Hearing that shout, Feng Zhiwei looked up and smiled, thinking how bitter her fate was. Why couldn’t she find peaceful days anywhere?
That group of official families’ sons had originally been hiding far to one side. Now they couldn’t help but excitedly make noise, shouting loudly: “Great chaos at the academy, beating students—such a thing has never happened since Qingming’s founding! This must be reported to the court for severe punishment, severe punishment!”
“Punish your granny!” Chunyu Meng cursed loudly, leading his brothers to rush over and beat them violently.
“Disturbing the school, assaulting the academy proctor—good, good, very good!” Proctor Li was helped up from a table of broken porcelain bowls, his face iron-blue. He raised his hand and hurled the iron ball he was holding.
Yan Huaishi impassively picked up two banknotes from the ground—the ones he had just stuffed to the proctor’s attendant had fallen to the ground in the commotion. However, having picked them up, he didn’t plan to give them again—stuffing them back would be useless anyway.
Bribery was acceptable, but waste was not.
Lin Shao was helped up by a pile of people, hair disheveled, pointing at Gu Nanyi and cursing loudly: “Kill that boy! Castrate him! Boil him! Fry him! Burn him!”
Then pointing at Feng Zhiwei: “Kill them together…” Halfway through shouting, he suddenly closed his mouth, and with a swoosh pointed back at Gu Nanyi again: “Castrate him! Boil him! Fry him! Burn him!”
“Wait for death, boy!” The young man with the severed finger sneered viciously: “Director will show you what’s what!”
Gu Nanyi suddenly glided over. Though a pile of people surrounded them tightly, he somehow could float out like a silk ribbon. He seemed to sense the surging hostility here, the aura around him forest-cool, a mass of frost and snow that made everyone tremble. In that trembling moment, his fingers flashed with snowy light and shadows, covering the man behind Feng Zhiwei who was gripping her.
“Swish.”
An extremely light, extremely fine sound, like silk thread being snapped by a fingernail on an embroidery frame. Then from somewhere rushed a ray of light, expanding in such a minute yet magnificent way, like celestial thunder meeting startled lightning, dazzling in an instant.
Gu Nanyi’s fingers were soundlessly deflected away.
Feng Zhiwei’s heart jumped in alarm. This was the first time she had seen Gu Nanyi’s attack blocked. Then she heard someone say coolly: “Stop fighting.”
The tone was listless, the attitude casual.
Yet everyone became alert.
Turning around, at some point several people had appeared at the entrance, quietly observing the chaotic dining hall. The foremost person wore an apricot-colored robe with a moon-white silk sash. Though the weather wasn’t hot, he insisted on holding a folding fan. His eyes could express both anger and joy, his collarbones half-visible, his appearance full of charm, his expression slightly obscene.
On a certain year, certain month, certain day, the person who had climbed the wall to a prostitute house poetry gathering without bringing a single coin, composed poems for third-rate prostitutes, then was chased through the streets by the Seven Golden Flowers and fell at Feng Zhiwei’s feet… the beautiful uncle.
Little Xin, Xin Ziyan.
However, the Little Xin of now no longer had that day’s dishevelment. In light furs with a loose sash, looking quite presentable, he was gazing at the chaotic dining hall with an expression between laughter and not, glancing at Feng Zhiwei and saying lazily: “Fighting again?”
Feng Zhiwei felt this word “again” was quite suspicious.
A pile of people rushed over, competing to tell him how Feng Zhiwei and her attendant were domineering, arrogant, provocative, troublemaking, severing people’s limbs, showing no mercy… The words were bloody, the attitude excited. Those who heard were saddened, listeners moved to tears. Even Feng Zhiwei, the perpetrator, listening to it felt she truly was evil beyond words, utterly heinous.
Gu Nanyi never moved. He didn’t look at Xin Ziyan in the center of the crowd at all. From the moment his fingers were deflected, his attention had fallen on a person behind Xin Ziyan.
That person wore a black robe over dark red inner garments, his features stiff and wooden as if wearing a mask. He paid no attention to everything in the scene, and ignored Gu Nanyi’s gaze as well, as if the flying sword light that had deflected Gu Nanyi’s fingers just now had nothing to do with him at all.
Xin Ziyan kept listening with a smile, his gaze falling on Lin Shao and Lin Ji who were heavily surrounded and protected. His eyes flashed.
When everyone finished their accusations, thinking these crimes were enough to throw Feng Zhiwei into death prison eighteen times, they all contentedly stopped speaking and waited for this boy’s misfortune in the next moment.
In the silence, Xin Ziyan raised his folding fan and, across the crowd, pointed remotely at Feng Zhiwei.
Feng Zhiwei sighed, thinking how good it would be if his tigress wife were here, or even if the Seven Golden Flowers were present.
Everyone’s gazes burned intensely, looking at Feng Zhiwei as if she were already dead.
Yan Huaishi rapidly counted banknotes in his sleeve, contemplating how to use the least money to obtain the greatest benefit.
Lin Shao pouted, his face showing hesitant colors.
Chunyu Meng murderously rolled up his sleeves, making eye signals to his group of Military Academy brothers.
Xin Ziyan’s folding fan, however, suddenly slid past Feng Zhiwei and swiftly like flowing water pointed successively at others!
“You! You! You! You! You!” Without stopping, he pointed in one breath, one by one indicating Young Master Yao with his stomped finger, Lin Shao, Lin Ji, Chunyu Meng, Yan Huaishi. “Dignified academy students, actually in this noble academy ground, before everyone’s eyes, openly causing trouble, brawling like peddlers and carriers! Where did the sage books you usually read go? Hmm?”
That nasal “hmm” hummed so heavily and quickly it directly stunned everyone. Those pointed at and those watching all stared at him blankly, not understanding what medicine the Director was selling.
Clearly it was Feng Zhiwei’s side that struck fiercely—how did he lump all the others together in one go?
Fine, Young Master Yao provoked first so including him was acceptable, Chunyu Meng joining a group fight could also be included, but what did it have to do with the Lin brothers and Yan Huaishi?
“You!” The Director’s roar looked less like a roar and more like a cat in heat. “All of you will be confined for seven days! Contemplate your mistakes in the quiet room! Whoever steps out one pace, I’ll break their legs and expel them from the academy!”
Young Master Yao rolled his eyes and directly fainted from anger.
“You!” Lin Shao stiffened his neck and said angrily: “You dare reverse black and white! I’m going to tell—I want to—I—”
He never managed to finish his sentence. Xin Ziyan’s eyes slanted. His pitiful watery peach blossom eyes truly had no威慑力 (威慑力 should be: “威力” or “intimidation”), but his tone didn’t drop one bit: “Tell whom? I’m telling you, whoever enters my academy, no matter who, will be dealt with by me!”
Before his words fell, he waved his hand and a team of men immediately came to escort them. Lin Shao choked, raising his hand about to signal his guards to act. His elder brother Lin Ji suddenly pressed his hand down heavily, signaling the guards to stand down. Then he bowed to Xin Ziyan, saying in a low voice: “Yes, we students encountered matters but didn’t know to soothe and mediate, instead causing trouble from within. This truly was wrong. We respectfully accept the Director’s punishment.”
Xin Ziyan made an “mm” sound and turned his head to glance at Lin Ji.
Chunyu Meng was rather unconcerned, laughing heartily and squeezing toward Feng Zhiwei’s side, saying: “Let go, let go, we’ll accept the Director’s judgment!”
The group with various expressions was escorted to the quiet rooms in the rear courtyard. Strangely, the chief culprit Gu Nanyi was ignored by everyone, as if this person didn’t exist and they had all forgotten him.
However, Gu Nanyi himself wouldn’t forget—seeing Feng Zhiwei being led away, he immediately floated out to follow. Feng Zhiwei looked at the brothel-visiting uncle with admiration—one glance was enough to know Gu Nanyi could only be outsmarted, not overpowered by force. A divine person indeed!
At the rear of the academy was a courtyard specifically used to confine students who had committed errors. Small rooms one zhang square were partitioned into seven or eight sections. Inside was only a bed and a small table, with windows opened small and positioned high up.
Feng Zhiwei counted and thought: just right, one room per person.
She was pushed into a small room. Before the door closed, she heard a sentence: “Contemplate your mistakes well! Seven days!”
Seven days.
Feng Zhiwei turned around. In the midst of the busyness, she saw Xin Ziyan standing remotely with hands clasped behind his back. His entire face was smiling, only his eyes were not.
Fine, seven days… Feng Zhiwei smiled. After completing seven days of confinement, perhaps everything would have passed.
The small room was very quiet. She sat cross-legged with closed eyes, contemplating. This was a good opportunity to properly comprehend some of the martial arts recorded in that manual. She always felt that one energy cultivation method in the manual made her feel very comfortable each time she tried to practice it.
Even if she couldn’t master martial arts, smoothing out that strange hot current in her body would be good. This splendid land, this brocade world—how could she bid farewell to it at twenty years old?
There was suddenly movement overhead. She looked up and saw Gu Nanyi sitting high up on the small window, left hand holding a pillow—his dedicated one—right hand holding a quilt—Feng Zhiwei’s.
The sky was darkening, moonlight gradually rising. In the moonlight, the person more tranquil and clear than moonlight itself was hazy and misty behind his veil at that high position, looking truly beautiful. Unfortunately, the pillow in his arms was too景杀风 (景杀风 should be: “scenery-killing” or “mood-destroying”).
Seeing Feng Zhiwei looking at him, Gu Nanyi descended smoothly and very habitually lay on that small bed.
Feng Zhiwei sighed and gently tried to persuade: “Young Master, how about sleeping in the room next to mine? That’s also very close.”
Gu Nanyi’s response was to throw that quilt of Feng Zhiwei’s onto the table.
Fine… Young Master wanted her to sleep on the table.
Feng Zhiwei sighed resentfully at the moon several times, then resentfully went to climb onto the table. Halfway up, she heard that person say dryly: “That was very tasty. Bring some more.”
Feng Zhiwei turned around—”Huh?”
Then she saw Young Master Gu seem to be reminiscing, his fingers lightly caressing his own lips.
The small room had no lamplight, only a line of moonlight spreading like a scroll. In the silvery-white frost, that person’s veil was half-raised. On his jade-like skin, his lip color was like spring color—thin, transparent, soft, brilliantly glowing. As his jade-carved clean, slender fingertips lightly touched, setting off that light red color, it was like a deep red snow lotus blooming on a hundred-thousand-zhang snow plain, instantly stunning all dreams atop young maiden’s towers.
One night in a small tower listening to spring rain; tomorrow morning, apricot blossoms would bloom in dimples.
Feng Zhiwei’s heartbeat instantly skipped several beats.
The most extreme temptation in this world is unintentional temptation—because of ignorant unawareness, it becomes naturally enchanting.
Gu Nanyi, however, was purely unaware that his beauty had momentarily captivated. He was only single-mindedly suddenly remembering that unintentional taste from before, missing that fierce and激越 (激越 should be: “intense” or “passionate”) flavor that never belonged to his frozen life.
“There’s no wine right now…” Feng Zhiwei took a long time to find her voice back, uncontrollably remembering how he had “drunk” wine that night. Her face once again disobediently reddened.
However, after reddening, she became somewhat angry—why didn’t he blush? Could it be that Young Master Gu truly thought that wine was drunk from a piece of wood!
“Want to drink.” Someone never cared what she expressed, only cared what he himself wanted to express.
“There isn’t any!” Feng Zhiwei’s attitude was rough.
“There is!”
The voice from the corner under the wall made Feng Zhiwei jump in fright. Looking carefully, she discovered there was actually a hole under the bed. The voice was Chunyu Meng’s, sounding triumphant: “There’s every kind of wine! Want premium Daughter’s Red or Desert’s Single Cup Drunk?”
Feng Zhiwei was silent—it appeared Student Chunyu was often confined, to the point he had even dug through the confinement rooms and stored quite a bit of good wine.
A jug of wine was pushed through. Feng Zhiwei was about to receive it when a hand reached over and took it without courtesy.
Then Feng Zhiwei watched dumbstruck as Young Master Gu lifted his veil, poured out a few drops of wine, applied them to the corner of his lips, then gently licked…
“…”