Seeing her dumbfounded expression and frantically rolling eyes, Yang Jingyuan’s anger had mostly subsided, though he still mocked her empty threats: “Have you ever seen a bandit chief trying to rob someone with a tiny knife?”
Ji Yingying’s eyes stopped darting around. She threw away the branch and took the staff he offered.
Does she want to fight? Yang Jingyuan was somewhat puzzled. Ji Yingying didn’t seem that foolish. Still, he had given her the staff. If she wanted to fight, they might as well play. He stood with his arms crossed, not moving an inch. “Come on then!”
“No!” Ji Yingying firmly rejected his challenge. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to—it was obvious she couldn’t win. She had taken the staff not to fight Yang Jingyuan, but to feel more secure. It certainly felt safer than holding a thin dead branch.
“Then what do you want?”
“It’s not what I want, but what do you want?”
Ji Yingying thought to herself: You’re the one who brought me here, and you’re blocking my way—how can I leave? No, wait, we’re still far from the main road; I’ll have to trouble you to take me back. No, no, you don’t need to escort me—just lend me your horse to ride back.
What do I want? Yang Jingyuan was stumped by the question. He had kidnapped Ji Yingying in a fit of anger, but he hadn’t thought about what to do with her.
At that moment, Yang Jingyuan suddenly remembered he had kissed her.
Oh no.
Yang Jingyuan had completely calmed down now. He wondered if he would end up in a situation like Sang Shilang.
Sang Shilang was one of Yang Jingyuan’s few friends in Yizhou City. Not only was he idle, but he was also lecherous. Their only common ground was their love for martial arts and admiration for wandering knights.
One day, Yang Jingyuan was drinking with the Sang family’s thirteenth and fourteenth sons. Sang Shilang took a fancy to the wine-serving maiden. In his drunken state, he struck the classic pose of a young master harassing a respectable girl: tucking his folding fan into his collar and reaching to lift her chin. The maiden naturally shied away demurely. Sang Shilang tried to grab her, but instead of catching her, he pulled down her outer garment, exposing one snow-white shoulder.
The dress was made of kudzu fabric and quite sturdy, so it didn’t tear. But the maiden had a fierce temper and, with a cry, tried to dash herself against a pillar. Fortunately, Sang Shisan had been leaning against that pillar watching the scene unfold, and she crashed into him instead. Sang Shilang had only meant to tease her a bit, but seeing the maiden ready to stake her life on it, he felt unlucky and left with his companions to drink elsewhere.
Before Sang Shilang could return home, the maiden’s mother had dragged her to the Sang residence demanding justice. If they didn’t provide satisfaction, she would report it to the authorities.
Sang Shilang’s father was the Administrative Assistant at Yizhou Prefecture. The new Governor had just taken office and was looking for an opportunity to establish his authority. The Sang family had no choice but to provide satisfaction by taking the maiden into their household.
When Sang Shilang stumbled home drunk, he was first sobered with cold water, then chased around the room by his father’s rattan cane before learning he had acquired a new concubine. He was delighted and, returning to his new concubine, struck his young master’s pose again: reaching to lift her chin.
Before he could say something like “Now you’re here to serve your master willingly,” the maiden gave a soft moan and fell straight into his arms.
Sang Shilang stood there stupidly for a long while, staring at his outstretched hand, wondering why he couldn’t even lift her chin now that she was his concubine. Before he could figure it out, the maiden had already begun undressing him.
Later, he told Yang Jingyuan, “…I always feel like I was the one taken advantage of.”
Men had this contemptible way of thinking. When someone threw themselves at you, you felt like a fool who had been taken advantage of. Yang Jingyuan strongly agreed. What could have been settled with some silver now meant supporting her for life. No matter how he looked at it, it seemed like a bad deal.
Looking at Ji Yingying’s vigilant expression as she held the staff, his mind immediately flashed to the image of her standing with Zhao Erlang on the fifteenth of the eighth month. Yang Jingyuan realized he was overthinking things. Forget about her eagerly seeking justice and wanting to become a concubine in the Yang household—even if he sincerely proposed marriage, Ji Yingying would chase him away with a broom.
She had been the one to provoke him first. He remembered at the bamboo temple’s rear mountain when she had mistakenly rushed into his arms, he had raised both hands, not even thinking to take advantage.
On the fifteenth of the eighth month, he had only wiped his mouth unintentionally. His original intention had been to help her avoid Zhou Qilang and the others.
Of course, today was deliberate. But hadn’t he acted in anger? It wasn’t like he had intentionally meant to take liberties with her.
How had he become the villain now? And she the brave maiden fighting against evil?
Yang Jingyuan said irritably, “You dyed my horse like that—what do you suggest we do about it?”
Thankfully, he had left an opening. Ji Yingying tested the waters: “If I clean it, we’ll call it even? Neither of us mentions today’s events?”
She wasn’t that foolish—protecting her reputation was crucial. She still wanted to marry Zhao Xiuyuan and live happily ever after.
“Fine.”
Yang Jingyuan agreed just as decisively. He would be staying at Sandaoyan for one day each month. He didn’t want to turn this into a feud between the Zhao and Yang families or let the Yang family discover he was secretly learning business skills.
“Ptui!”
They both spat into their palms and clapped them together.
This kind of handshake oath was considered more binding than a written contract among merchants. So, Ji Yingying threw away the staff and swaggered past Yang Jingyuan, mounting the horse.
“This horse is too conspicuous. I need to go to the market to buy materials for the cleaning solution, and it’s not convenient to ride together. You wait here. I don’t have any money,” Ji Yingying stretched out her hand toward Yang Jingyuan.
Yang Jingyuan found her words reasonable and readily took out his purse, producing a five-tael silver ingot: “Is this enough?”
“I know the material shops well. If it’s not enough, I can get credit. Consider it part of my compensation to you.” Ji Yingying lied shamelessly while doing him a “favor,” tucked away the silver, and with a shake of the reins, turned the horse back toward where they had come from.
After riding about twenty zhang away, she looked back. Yang Jingyuan had picked up the staff and was practicing with it, his movements fierce and flowing without pause. Ji Yingying watched in amazement, muttering to herself, “His martial arts are so good—fortunately, I didn’t try to fight him. Tsk tsk, I’m so clever! Not only did I escape, but I even earned some silver to spend.”
“Don’t worry, white horse. Let me tell you something. This red flower dye is the easiest to deal with. After I bathe you, I’ll burn some rice straw, mix the ash with water, and pour it over you—you’ll be white as snow again. I’ll catch the red dye in a jar to use another time. Only a wastrel like your master would hand over five taels of silver and ask if it’s enough.”
Ji Yingying touched the silver ingot in her sleeve, her eyebrows dancing with delight as she cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted at Yang Jingyuan: “Yang Caterpillar, if you don’t want to walk back, just wait here until dark! I’ll tell the old steward to come get you before nightfall! I’m going to eat something delicious—if you’re hungry, you can fill up on river water!”
Fooled again! Yang Jingyuan started in alarm and shouted back: “You’re breaking our agreement!”
Ji Yingying giggled. “Who says I’m breaking our agreement? I’ll clean your horse, and I won’t mention today’s events. But I never said I’d come back for you! Hyah!”
She slapped the horse and disappeared in a flash.
The wind lifted her long hair, her pink and white dress floating gently. Her clear laughter rang out like a bird in the forest.
Yang Jingyuan raised his fingers to his lips but didn’t whistle to call the horseback. His fingers touched his lips, and Ji Yingying’s delicate face appeared before him again.
“Smack!” Yang Jingyuan slapped himself, then with a twist of his wrist, he used the staff to vault himself up and brought it crashing down hard against the ground.