“Young master, your heart meridian has truly suffered a severe blow. Fortunately, someone promptly cleared your Governing Vessel for you. In the coming days, you must rest and recuperate quietly for a period—you cannot be careless…”
Elder Xiao slowly withdrew the silver needles from Ye Qi’s Xinshu acupoint and inserted them into the Dushu acupoint. “It’s a pity the Conception Vessel hasn’t been opened. Otherwise, this old man could try using the Governing and Conception Vessels as a foundation to clear the Yang Linking Vessel…”
Ye Qi sneezed. Even in March, Wuling Mountain still retained winter’s biting cold. Wind seeped through the door cracks thread by thread, intermittently brushing across his bare, naked torso. Despite a row of charcoal braziers arranged beside the bed, his back still broke out in goosebumps. “And here I thought I’d picked up another life this time. From what you’re saying, I still won’t live long?”
“Young master, this stagnation illness is ultimately a congenital chronic condition… Although in your youth you encountered a master willing to transmit their power to help clear your meridians, this internal force is truly domineering to the extreme. Over these eleven years, even if someone were willing to transfer their power, it cannot integrate with it…”
Xiao Yin removed the needles one by one and asked in a hoarse voice: “Who exactly was the person who channeled their power to heal you this time? If this person can clear your Governing Vessel, perhaps they might also be able to…”
“Don’t even think about it.” Ye Qi hurriedly pulled on his clothes, tying his sash while getting off the bed and pacing to the table. He lifted the teapot and took several gulps of hot water straight from the spout. “Just tell me straight—given my current condition, how much longer can I live?”
“Thinking optimistically, a year or two poses no problem. If during this period you can find the cultivation method for this internal force, naturally you can extend it several more years…” Xiao Yin also stood up. “Of course, in this vast world, there are medical saints who can bring back the dead. If young master has the fortune…”
“Alright, Elder, you’re the master of Lingbao Pavilion, Eastern Xia’s foremost medical saint. Repeating the same platitudes year after year only makes people feel more hopeless, you know…” Ye Qi rubbed his palms together, finally warming them up a bit. “A year or two is already a huge profit—I’m quite content. But what about you? Why do you keep squinting? Has the poison not been completely cleared?”
“After being blind for half a month, I’m still somewhat unaccustomed to light. It’ll improve in a few days… After all, I was poisoned. For someone my age, it doesn’t matter much, but I pity those young disciples. In the future, they might not see distant things as clearly as before…” Xiao Yin lowered his head and sighed. When he looked up, he discovered Ye Qi had somehow moved to a position three zhang away, raising his index and middle fingers toward him. “Elder, how many is this?”
Xiao Yin: “…”
Ye Qi spread his hands. “If you can’t see far clearly, so be it. The key is recognizing people right in front of you clearly. This time, Eastern Xia’s martial world jumped into the pit from beginning to end. It’s already merciful that everyone wasn’t wiped out in one fell swoop… After this incident, which of the Eight Great Sects would still dare look down on Lingbao Pavilion? Hmph, you shouldn’t even give them medicine—let them squint their way through the martial world.”
Xiao Yin shook his head with a laugh. “This time you rescued the masters of the Eight Great Sects from disaster and severed the source of Mingyue Zhou’s attack on the border. Now not only martial world people, but even common folk deeply respect the He Family Army. When you return to Jinling, His Majesty’s rewards will be inevitable…”
“Rewards?” Ye Qi pushed open the door. Wind rolled with falling plum blossoms, rustling and pattering against his clothing. “Before leaving this time, I even submitted a final testament to His Majesty. I wonder if he’ll be somewhat surprised to see me return completely intact?”
People say the Jiangnan region is a land of beauty, and Jinling is the imperial capital.
In an era of bloody winds and chaotic warfare, even the banks of the Qinhuai River were suffused with that quality of silk garments dancing and water sleeves flowing gracefully—let alone in the flourishing years of the new dynasty. Just passing through this ten-zhang-wide Jiankang Street, one’s eyes were nearly dazzled by the stacks upon stacks of strange and marvelous curiosities.
This referred to the kind of country bumpkin who’d never seen the world.
Changling naturally wasn’t much better off. In her youth, she hadn’t encountered good times. Everywhere she went was either desolate villages in poverty or dusk staining the sand with blood. She really hadn’t traveled much through the prosperous southern regions—though she had been to Chang’an. Of course, at that time she’d been entirely focused on attacking the imperial palace and never had the chance to wander the streets.
“Jinling city truly has quite a lot of fancy trinkets…” The carriage window was open. Changling propped her chin, leaning against it. Her gaze happened to fall on the embroidery pavilion ahead, where she saw a woman in red garments standing against the railing. Below, a large group of men surrounded the building, eagerly trying with heads raised, watching something intently. “What are they doing?”
Fu Yangui had been reading. Hearing this, he looked up and glanced over. “That’s the daughter of Escort Bureau Chief Fu of the Fuwei Escort Bureau. She’s tossing an embroidered ball to select a husband.”
“Oh, I know. That’s the kind where…”
Before she finished speaking, she saw the red-clothed woman lift up a copper basin and vigorously hurl out a glowing red… fireball—in an instant, the men below all leaped up, each bare-handedly trying to snatch it. The youth who jumped highest had just touched it when the fireball scorched him into howling. He endured it but couldn’t hold on, throwing it backward. A group of people then scrambled to seize it one after another.
The carriage passed by hurriedly. Below the embroidery pavilion, the foolish brutes screamed while desperately struggling. Changling raised her index finger. “What did you just say she was tossing?”
“An embroidered ball. Generally, it’s just a bladed or spiked knife-ball. Burning it to charcoal is indeed rare.” Fu Yangui turned a page of his book, unsurprised. “Escort Chief Fu’s threshold for selecting a husband is rather high. Two months ago he also tossed once. Unfortunately, the young master who caught it had both hands crippled.”
“…”
Seeing Changling’s speechless expression, Fu Yangui couldn’t help but smile. “What about you?”
“What?”
“Tossing an embroidered ball—what kind of ball would you choose?”
“I wouldn’t toss one.”
“Oh?”
Changling didn’t continue. She silently muttered to herself: If I accidentally killed everyone, that would be hard to resolve.
Fu Yangui didn’t wait for a follow-up and lowered his head to read again. “Are you wondering why those people are willing to catch that kind of ball?”
Changling: “Oh, I am a bit curious.”
“Fuwei Escort Bureau is an imperial escort agency. If one could become the son-in-law of the Fu family, naturally the prospects would be excellent…” Fu Yangui said plainly. “From Miss Fu’s perspective, if someone can ultimately catch the fireball bare-handed, doesn’t that prove their internal force and movement techniques are both superior?”
This reasoning didn’t seem entirely nonsensical.
It’s just that Changling’s impression of southerners still remained at elegant leisure, reciting poetry and books. The moment she entered the city, she witnessed such a scene—it truly overturned her previous understanding. Throughout the streets and alleys, one could see those who displayed courage and loved fighting everywhere. All types from the three teachings and nine streams mixed within this bustling chaos. In just eleven short years, the world had completely changed its appearance beyond recognition.
Perhaps only she still remained in the past.
As soon as this thought of being separated from the world arose, Changling immediately lost interest. Fu Yangui saw her lean back against the cushion and couldn’t help but pause. “What’s wrong?”
“Too noisy.” Changling didn’t feel like explaining.
“I thought young ladies like you all enjoyed visiting such lively marketplaces…”
The three words “young ladies” made Changling roll her eyes thoroughly. “It’s not that I don’t like it—it’s just not quite what I imagined.”
“Oh? What does the young lady imagine Jinling city to be like?”
“Mm, like what’s written in poetry…” When she was still a tough guy boss, she’d often fantasized about renting a flower boat on the Qinhuai River banks and having the most beautiful dancers perform for her. “Rolled pearl curtains, drunk lying in gentle embrace…”
Fu Yangui looked up at her, his expression somewhat confused, though it was only for an instant. Changling glanced over and said casually: “I noticed earlier—your carriage has been unobstructed almost the entire way. It seems everyone who sees it from afar consciously gives it wide berth… I keep forgetting to ask, what official position do you hold in the Eastern Xia court?”
The vermillion-lacquered main gate bore a black-background gold-inlaid nanmu wood plaque. Looking up at the inscription—Prime Minister’s Residence.
Changling stepped down from the carriage. She hadn’t yet processed those three large characters hanging overhead when she heard the guards stationed outside the gate uniformly bow to Fu Yangui in salute: “Welcome home, Master!”
Changling glanced sideways at Fu Yangui’s youthful appearance—this fellow was actually a prime minister?
Fu Yangui habitually shook out his robes. Just as he was about to step into the residence, seeing Changling hadn’t followed, he asked curiously: “Not coming in?”
“How old are you?”
“Uh…” This question came abruptly. He froze. “Twenty-eight.”
Changling unconsciously added her own age to those sealed eleven years, thinking to herself: Someone surnamed Fu looks at most two or three years older than that fool Ye Qi, yet he’s actually the same age as me?
Indeed, Jinling’s feng shui nurtures people—nurtures women, and even nurtures men.
Changling had completely forgotten she also possessed a “youthful” face. Hands clasped behind her back with mature composure, she shook her head and strode into the residence on her own, leaving Fu Yangui standing there dumbfounded, not knowing what had happened.
To be fair, although the master of this Prime Minister’s Residence looked young, the pavilions, ponds, and courtyards of the estate were absolutely unambiguous—fine trees and rare flowers incomparable to gaudy competing colors. Upon entering the main courtyard, there were winding corridors. Following Fu Yangui through them, Changling saw several delicate young women playing and laughing by the pond edge ahead. She let out a soft sound of surprise. “Are those all your wives and concubines?”
Fu Yangui nearly tripped over a pebble on the ground. “…They’re just maids in the residence.”
“Oh, then where are your wives and concubines?”
Fu Yangui didn’t immediately answer. Changling asked with a smile: “You’re already so old—surely you haven’t married yet?”
The “very old” Fu Yangui coughed dryly. “I have a marriage contract with the young lady, so naturally I haven’t married yet. However…”
Before he finished speaking, someone suddenly burst out from behind the corner’s reed clump. Changling focused her gaze to see a graceful youth in purple garments walking over boldly while laughing: “Well now! Elder brother went out and actually brought back a sister-in-law!”
This teasing sounded extremely familiar. Last time it was vaguely that demon woman sister of Mingyue Zhou who’d said it, even the tone unchanged. Fu Yangui scolded in a low voice: “Yanyang, do not speak recklessly.”
He turned to Changling: “My younger brother is immature. I hope Miss Nan won’t take offense.”
Changling expressed understanding.
These days, which family doesn’t raise one or two unfortunate younger siblings?
Sure enough, as soon as this Fu Yanyang approached, he spoke unreliably: “Sister… Miss Nan, I heard you’re the sect leader of the Five Poisons Sect. Does the Five Poisons Sect have many miraculous strange arts that can change people’s appearances?”
Changling froze. “Hm?”
“Otherwise, how could there be someone as beautiful as you in this world?” Fu Yanyang pointed with his hand. “Wow, your nose—could it have been… with something…”
Before the word “pinched” could fall, Fu Yanyang’s nose bridge received a solid punch.
“Ow, brother, I’m your blood brother! Did you really need to hit me so hard…” Fu Yanyang covered his nose and retreated two steps in frustration, then grinned at Changling and bowed apologetically. “Miss Nan has had a hard journey—just joking around, don’t take it seriously.”
Whether it was joking or not, Changling didn’t know. If the person standing here was truly Nanxu herself, this little brat would probably not have long to live.
Changling looked at Fu Yangui. “Your brother is quite interesting.”
The Prime Minister’s Residence’s separate courtyard stood by the pond. It seemed there were no guests in the residence recently—the entire two-story five-guest building was Changling’s to choose from. The second-floor chamber was the brightest. As soon as she entered, she smelled a fresh sandalwood fragrance. Looking carefully, from the walls, long chairs, vanity table to the fur-covered floor, everything seemed to write the four words “I am very tasteful.”
Changling was too lazy to even remove her socks. She collapsed entirely onto the soft bed and said to the maid poking her head in from outside: “I want to sleep. No need to attend me.”
Having spoken, she closed both eyes and truly fell into deep sleep just like that.
This sleep lasted from late morning until dusk approached.
Lanterns throughout the residence all lit up. Lamplight shone through carved flower windows, scattering in fine fragments across the bedding. Changling sat up, yawned, and incidentally circulated her dantian true qi while stretching.
Well, the Shimo true qi was as always tightly sealed by the Mahun Powder. Aside from the one or two parts recovered earlier, not even the slightest bit of the rest had leaked out—
She’d definitely encountered her nemesis.
If only she hadn’t rushed to run away. Who knew if the Five Poisons Sect had any survivors left, or where she could get the Mahun Powder antidote now?
Changling sighed to herself. Just as she was about to put on her shoes, she reached down but found nothing. Looking down, her broken shoes had vanished without a trace, replaced by a pair of cloud brocade shoes.
Precisely the kind she most feared—embroidered all over with flowers, thick soles, those high-heeled shoes.
Changling’s eye corner twitched involuntarily.
At this moment, the maid waiting outside the door presumably heard movement. She knocked twice and entered, smiling: “Miss is awake? Before leaving, the master instructed Cuizhu to attend the young lady in changing clothes.”
The maid held neatly folded garments in her hands. Just as she was about to approach, Changling stretched out her arm, signaling her to stop. “Where are my shoes?”
“The shoes are right by the bed… Oh, does the young lady mean the pair you wore when you arrived? Cuizhu saw the sole had a hole broken through and thought they couldn’t be worn anymore, so I threw them away.”
“…” Changling pressed her forehead. Seeing her expression change, Cuizhu asked weakly: “Were those shoes important?”
Seeing the young girl’s eyes full of trepidation, Changling didn’t know how to express her anger for a moment. “…Not important.”
Cuizhu breathed a sigh of relief. “Miss, Madam Qiong of the South Courtyard heard you came to the residence and specially arranged a small banquet tonight, sending someone to invite you. Would you like to go? If not, I’ll have the kitchen prepare your meal directly.”
“Madam Qiong?” Changling keenly raised her brow. “What does she do?”
Madam Qiong was the Prime Minister’s concubine. Although she was a concubine, she was the only lady Fu Yangui had taken, so presumably her status and favor were no different from a principal wife.
No wonder he’d been hesitant during the day—probably afraid Nanxu would mind and didn’t know how to broach the subject.
Changling folded her sleeves and strolled along the corridor. The corner of her mouth couldn’t help but rise. “I said someone so old couldn’t possibly not be married…”
The little maid following behind heard her muttering and asked in confusion: “What old?”
“Nothing.”
Changling passed through a winding path. Head-on, she saw a garden with a stone gate trailing vines and tendrils. Circling inside the wall, an opening was cut in the wall where clear spring water flowed from the outer lake along bamboo, irrigating several pear trees within the courtyard.
Tables and chairs were arranged beneath the trees with several dishes of preserved fruits and dried goods on the table. Seeing someone arrive, the South Courtyard’s maids hurried forward with small steps to greet her, serving tea while saying the madam would arrive shortly.
Changling hadn’t come to meet this Madam Qiong out of curiosity.
Although assuming a false identity meant constantly being prepared for exposure, the closer she got to Jinling, the more suspicious she became of Fu Yangui.
For instance, he’d clearly arranged with Nanxu to pick her up the next morning—why then did he appear at the foot of Canlang Mountain that very night? The village had been burned; he couldn’t possibly be unaware. Yet why, after she woke, did he not mention this matter at all, only briefly describing her identity as “Five Poisons Sect Leader” and their engagement, then pretending as if nothing had happened and bringing her back to Jinling?
Thinking it over, the greatest possibility… the mastermind who ordered the village massacre was most likely Fu Yangui himself.
If that were the case, his motives and subsequent actions were too abnormal.
He hadn’t disposed of “Nanxu” after Changling fainted, which showed he had no intention of absolutely putting her to death. But if he truly had fallen in love at first sight with his little delicate wife, how could he bear to bombard the stronghold with explosives?
Upon entering Jinling, instead of urgently sending her back to the Jing family, he directly brought her to his own residence to settle…
Beneath this series of incomprehensible actions, Changling detected a somewhat sinister flavor.
She wasn’t a careless person.
Precisely because she couldn’t figure it out, whether she could leave or should stay instead required careful consideration.
Unable to see through either way, she might as well first observe his concubine. If she turned out to be a woman mad with jealousy, she might even discover something useful.
Changling was just pondering how to extract information when she suddenly heard someone behind her say: “Miss Nan has waited long. It’s my fault—for this basket of soup dumplings, I’ve delayed the time.”
The voice was still two zhang away when the food’s fragrance already drifted near.
Turning her head, she saw a woman in smoke-colored garments trailing on the ground. Just from that graceful swaying figure, one could imagine several parts alluring charm.
Changling had just stood up when, seeing that familiar face clearly, her whole body shook. She unconsciously moved her lips: “Bi Qiong…”
Lu Family’s Bi Qiong—in the era when heroes competed for the Central Plains, she had been the foremost beauty of Jiangdong.
At that time, everyone in the martial world knew she was the woman of the Yue Family’s Second Young Master, Yue Changling.