“Cough cough cough—”

Thick smoke rolled through the room.

Qi Yutai covered his mouth and nose, frantically looking around.

When the fire first started, he hadn’t noticed, only focused on fighting with the person before him. By the time he realized, the flames had already grown large.

Cherry-colored cloth curtains and gauze drapes hung everywhere in Fengle Tower’s guest rooms—”tasseled canopies where fragrant smoke rises, deep candle shadows behind cloud-wood screens.” But now the gauze curtains were licked by flames with thunderous roars, only making one’s heart more desperate.

The person he’d been fighting with had disappeared at some point, leaving him alone here. The window wouldn’t open, and the fire blazed fiercely at the door—he couldn’t get out or escape.

The heat and excitement from taking the cold food powder had completely vanished from his body, replaced by deep fear.

Would he be burned to death here today?

No, he didn’t want to die!

Qi Yutai turned to look at the doorway. Before the tightly closed door, a beam had crashed down, creating a wall of fire. Those few short steps were like an insurmountable chasm, separating him from his escape route.

He turned back in panic, trying to find another way out of this narrow room, but everywhere his gaze fell brought only deeper despair.

The jade zither, broken wine jars, woven carpets… these things caught fire sparks and became fuel for the flames. Even the hanging painting on the wall couldn’t escape.

The painting that had replaced his beloved weeping beauty picture—that uncomfortable Jingzhe spring thunder painting—was half-burned by fire, its silk pages curling like theater curtains slowly rising, revealing another scene beneath.

Under the spring thunder painting, another painting was hidden!

This was…

Qi Yutai suddenly froze.

It was an extremely beautiful painting of orioles.

Deep mountain green woods, rolling dense forests, ten li of fragrant tea gardens, with a copper birdcage hanging before the houses.

In the birdcage, an oriole sang with a hundred melodious voices, lively and clever. Before the cage stood a white-haired old man dressed as a farmer, one finger bent, playing with the oriole in the cage.

The wall painting was originally enormous, almost occupying an entire wall, giving one an immersive feeling. However, whether the previous weeping beauty painting or the burned Jingzhe spring thunder painting, none were as eerie as the one before his eyes.

The old man and oriole were painted extraordinarily large, especially the old man, almost indistinguishable from a real person. The man and bird were expressionless, their pitch-black eyes staring straight at the viewer. Around them scattered countless orioles with spread wings—at first glance, they seemed to fill the sky, their sharp beaks pecking toward people’s eyes—

Qi Yutai’s mind exploded.

Suddenly everything around became completely silent.

A gentle voice reached his ears, plaintive, as if coming from far away.

“Young Master Qi…”

“Do you still remember Old Yang’s family from the tea gardens of Mangming Village, who raised orioles?”

Qi Yutai’s eyes widened, instinctively stepping back two paces, his lips moving in what seemed like weak moaning.

“Old Yang…”

…

That year was his father’s birthday, right when he hadn’t been working at the Ministry of Personnel for long. At that time, he didn’t know it was just a nominal position without real power, thinking his father finally saw his efforts, and their previously strained father-son relationship seemed to have a chance for reconciliation.

He wanted to make peace with his father, so he decided to give him the best birthday gift.

Everyone in the capital knew the Grand Tutor loved birds, keeping white cranes and peacocks in his mansion, but what Qi Qing loved most were orioles.

Qi Yutai wanted to give his father the finest oriole in the world.

Bird fighting was popular in the capital. The best orioles not only needed bright feathers and clear voices, but also had to be fierce, combative, and well-built.

Qi Yutai toured the bird fighting gardens but felt they all lacked spirit—he couldn’t find a bird he liked.

Then someone told him that in the tea gardens of Mangming Village, there was a farmer surnamed Yang who had an oriole he’d raised for many years—clever and spirited. Perhaps he could buy it to try.

Qi Yutai ordered it bought immediately.

But the oriole’s owner wouldn’t sell.

The buyers made several trips but returned empty-handed each time. Normally, Qi Yutai would have used forceful methods long ago—威逼利诱 against such lowly people was always easy.

But those days, having just gone to the Ministry of Personnel, he felt his future was bright, which put him in a good mood. Thinking his father’s birthday was approaching, he should accumulate merit for his father, so he decided to go to Mangming Village personally to show sincerity.

So Qi Yutai brought several guards and went to the tea gardens outside the city.

In the tea gardens in March, grass grew and orioles flew, with clear streams and green waters. Arriving at that house in the village, Qi Yutai immediately saw the oriole.

It was a very beautiful oriole, hidden in a copper birdcage hanging under the eaves, singing joyfully with a clear voice distinctly different from other orioles.

In an instant, Qi Yutai fell in love with this oriole.

A sixty-year-old man wearing a hemp headband came out of the house. Seeing several people standing before his house, he was also startled. Qi Yutai only said he was a traveler passing through, wanting to ask for some tea to drink.

His group was dressed like wealthy young masters, and the old man didn’t suspect anything, warmly inviting him into the house and calling his family to brew some hot tea.

Qi Yutai had his guards stay in the courtyard while he went inside. Soon, an old woman came from the back courtyard and poured several cups of tea for them.

Mangming Village was full of tea gardens, and the tea was from newly picked leaves, but ultimately cheap, served in earthen bowls, appearing rough and bland.

Qi Yutai didn’t drink that tea, only looked around.

Besides the sixty-year-old Old Yang, his family included his equally aged wife, his son who was born with mental problems and could only do simple work, still needing care for his daily needs, and a daughter who had died of illness two years ago.

Everyone in this house was sick, weak, old, or disabled. The only able-bodied person—Old Yang’s son-in-law—had gone to work in the tea gardens. Old Yang’s son sat in a corner chair, smiling foolishly at them.

He explained his purpose to Old Yang.

Qi Yutai was confident.

This old couple had lost one daughter, and their other son was a fool. Both were already aged and couldn’t accompany their son much longer—they definitely needed money.

That’s what he thought, but unexpectedly, after hearing him out, the dark-skinned old man shook his head and refused with a smile.

Qi Yutai couldn’t understand.

He asked: “Don’t you want money for security? He—” He pointed at the man sitting obediently in the chair, watching them like a three-year-old child, “He can’t do anything—he’ll need it in the future!”

A fool—without leaving him more money, how could he survive? Just by digging in the dirt?

The old man said: “Ah Dai—” He called his son this name, but without any mockery or sarcasm, looking at his son with gentle, loving eyes, “Ah Dai isn’t stupid, Ah Dai is just a bit slow.”

“His mother and I have taught him for decades, and now Ah Dai can do simple tea picking and sifting. When he’s serious about it, his mother and I can’t compare to him.”

“I’ve arranged with the neighboring tea garden owner that when his mother and I are gone, Ah Dai will stay at the tea garden to help with work. He doesn’t need much money—just food, drink, and medicine when he’s sick.”

“Ah Dai is self-sufficient, so he doesn’t need money.”

Qi Yutai found it incredible.

His father, the current Grand Tutor, had never truly praised him from childhood, let alone looked at him with such affirming eyes.

Why could a fool deserve this?

Why was this old man so certain in believing that foolish child sitting in the chair?

He was clearly a fool!

The warm atmosphere in the room suddenly made him irritated. Qi Yutai suppressed his impatience, trying hard to maintain a gentle tone: “More money isn’t a bad thing.”

The old man smiled: “Young master, having money is good, but with Ah Dai’s condition, too much wealth would be too heavy a burden. My wife and I are old and useless—if we really had such a large sum, not being able to guard it would be the smaller problem, but attracting disaster would be the bigger one!”

Unexpectedly, a farmer from this remote place also understood the principle that an innocent man becomes guilty when he possesses a jade.

Qi Yutai was about to speak again when he heard the old man say: “Besides, the oriole was my daughter Ah Yao’s favorite bird when she was alive. I can’t sell it.”

Qi Yutai paused.

The old man looked at him, those eyes filled with the hardships and toil so different from his own father’s, sparkling with wisdom.

“In my wife’s and my hearts, it is Ah Yao. This is this old man’s final remembrance—forgive me for not being able to agree to your request.”

He laughed heartily, beckoning Qi Yutai to drink his tea.

“Ah Dai” didn’t know what was happening, sitting properly in his chair, head lowered as he played with a budding tree branch in his hands. The old woman lowered her head and said a few words to him. The man listened with confusion, then nodded seriously.

No matter how you looked at him, he was a fool.

Qi Yutai felt contemptuous. That moment of complexity quickly passed, and he became cold again.

He hadn’t come here today to watch this family perform this ridiculous, disgusting play of paternal kindness and filial piety—he came to buy an oriole.

Since they wouldn’t accept the carrot, they’d get the stick. His patience ended here.

Qi Yutai stood up.

Outside the door, several guards also stood up, firmly guarding the courtyard gate.

The old man’s previously cheerful smile gradually became grave as he watched Qi Yutai walking toward the door: “What does the young master intend to do?”

Qi Yutai stood by the window, mockingly looking at this family.

“I originally wanted to buy your oriole for five hundred gold,” he said. “But I’ve changed my mind now—I don’t want to give even one copper coin.”

“I truly regret making this trip today. Lowly people like you aren’t worth my consideration.”

He turned around, signaling his guards to take the oriole hanging under the house eaves.

The bird seemed to sense the sudden change in situation, jumping up and down in its cage, crying out anxiously and loudly.

The copper birdcage felt ice-cold to the touch. When the guard handed it to him, the cold made him shiver.

The old man finally realized the other party intended to rob them. His face changed, and he suddenly rushed forward to snatch it back. However, being aged and having expended more energy than others caring for his useless foolish son for years, how could he match Qi Yutai? Qi Yutai pushed him far away with one shove, but the old man wouldn’t give up, stumbling forward again.

That aged hand grabbed Qi Yutai’s arm, the rough calluses uncomfortable against his skin. The previously kind face now showed only shock and anger, made even more detestable by his advanced age.

Qi Yutai grabbed the other’s hand in return and pushed viciously—

A loud “thud” sounded.

The old man was pushed backward and fell without a sound. The tea cups on the table shattered all over the floor as he lay straight and still, making no more sound.

From behind his head, a patch of bright red blood gradually spread, slowly extending across the ground.

Qi Yutai hadn’t expected the other party to be so weak and was stunned for a moment.

It was the old woman in the room who reacted, screaming: “Murder! Help! Murder—”

The sharp screaming was jarring and annoying. Qi Yutai, extremely irritated, carried the birdcage toward the door but was grabbed by the hem of his robe from behind.

The old woman cried and shouted: “Don’t leave, you murderer! Help—someone come—”

Qi Yutai was briefly flustered.

Mangming Village was small, with households far apart, and Old Yang’s family was poor, living on the most barren land with no neighbors around. He hadn’t cared originally, but this woman’s piercing cries, combined with the old man’s dead staring eyes in the room, made him feel cold. Qi Yutai kicked the woman away and gave his guards a look.

The guards stepped forward, drawing their blades. Silver light flashed, and the screaming in the room immediately stopped.

Only thicker bloody smell slowly approached.

Qi Yutai lifted his robe hem and stepped over the woman’s corpse, but the fool who had been sitting quietly in the corner, seriously playing with his tree branch, seemed to finally understand what had happened and suddenly ran out of the room.

“Papa, Mama, Mama!”

The foolish son cried out anxiously, throwing the soft tree branch in his hand at him with force, angrily saying: “Bad, bad man!”

Qi Yutai’s expression changed.

Though “Ah Dai’s” mind was like a child’s, he was physically tall and strong. Old Yang and his wife had cared for him well—his clothes were clean and his complexion ruddy. Those clear, innocent eyes stared at him angrily, anxiously and furiously waving the tree branch in his hand.

The tree branch was soft and caused no pain when it hit someone.

Like a joke.

Qi Yutai snorted with laughter and walked out of the house indifferently.

Guards swarmed behind him, followed by a muffled sound, and all around returned to silence.

The oriole sang mournfully in its cage—whether joyful song or sorrowful cry, it was all the same clear voice. In the narrow thatched cottage, three people lay scattered together, drowned in a river of blood.

He stood at the door, looking at the oriole flapping its wings in the cage, suddenly feeling somewhat bored.

Before he could decide how to handle this, someone else came through the fence—a tall man carrying a bamboo basket. Seeing the group of people, he was startled, but before he could speak, he saw the winding river of blood at the door.

“Papa, Mama, Ah Dai—”

He cried out mournfully.

Qi Yutai picked at his ear.

He knew who this person was.

Old Yang’s daughter Yang Yao had passed away, but her husband hadn’t left the Yang family, still living with them, even changing his name to ‘Yang Dalang.’

Men living with their fathers-in-law were rare enough, let alone widowed men—unless there was profit to be gained. However, Old Yang’s family was laughably poor, with nothing apparently worth coveting, which only showed this person was even more incompetent and impoverished than the Yang family.

The man’s wailing sounded false and ridiculous.

Qi Yutai had his guards surround Yang Dalang and offered to give him money.

The stubborn old Yang had refused his goodwill—this man who wasn’t even related to the Yang family should be much smarter. He even doubled the silver.

Getting rid of this burden while taking generous silver to live freely—that silver was enough for Yang Dalang to buy an entire tea garden, no, enough to buy a new house in the capital and marry a young new wife. Qi Yutai couldn’t think of any reason for him to refuse.

This way, with Yang Dalang as a witness to help, the Yang family matter could be settled simply without alarming his father. He didn’t want his father to think he was a troublesome person.

“How about it?” He stacked the bank notes pile by pile on the wooden table in front of the house.

Under the table, bright red blood gradually flowed over.

Yang Dalang stared fixedly at those bank notes.

Qi Yutai felt contemptuous—these lowly common people had probably never seen so much wealth in their lives.

After a moment, the man reached out and silently took the bank notes.

Qi Yutai smiled.

He knew it.

This was simply an irresistible temptation.

Looking at this clever person before him, he felt extremely satisfied. His previous concerns about the couple and foolish son in the house were immediately swept away, as if he’d won a battle or proven himself.

Qi Yutai calculated that after the Yang family matter passed, in a while he’d find someone to deal with Yang Dalang too. Desperate poor villains inevitably grew greedy and evil, threatening and extorting… they were capable of anything.

But being a wealthy ghost before death made this lifetime worthwhile.

Thinking this, he stood up to leave. Just as he turned around, he suddenly heard the guard closest to him shout “Young master, be careful—”

“Psh—”

He was pushed hard by the guard.

Qi Yutai was stunned, slowly lowering his head.

A woodcutter’s knife pierced from behind him, the blade tip buried deep to half its length. Bright red blood dripped down drop by drop, mixing with the Yang family’s blood.

Yang Dalang’s face became unclear under the guards’ blades, only his roaring fury could be heard: “Bastard, I’ll kill you—”

Protected by his guards, he quickly retreated from the house. His waist hurt strangely—it turned out that blood flowing from others felt completely different from blood flowing from oneself.

Qi Yutai covered his wound, moaning: “Burn it! Burn this whole place!”

He didn’t want to see anyone from the Yang family again—these lowly poor ghosts!

Flames quickly blazed up.

Yang Dalang’s wooden stick had long been chopped to pieces, and his body had become segments like that stick, no longer recognizable as a complete form.

But from that sea of fire, an aged face suddenly emerged.

Old Yang had somehow awakened.

When he fell, his head had hit a stone and seemed dead, but now he’d come to, covered in blood from head to face, tremblingly crawling out of the firelight, stretching one hand toward him with effort, trying to grab his robe hem.

A guard kicked him back.

Qi Yutai’s soul flew away in terror.

Fierce fire burned the sky, flying ash blocked vision.

The Yang family fire burned with unusual ferocity, burning everything inside almost to ash.

At that time, Mangming Village people were all working in the tea gardens, with no one near this area of houses. Though they later sensed something was wrong, no one dared speak up with questions.

The Grand Tutor’s mansion sent people to handle it.

Qi Qing eventually learned of this matter.

Only because Qi Yutai had been wounded by Yang Dalang’s blade then—though the guard had pushed him away at the crucial moment, saving his life, the injury was still quite serious.

But physical wounds could still be treated—what was more frightening was that after returning to the Grand Tutor’s mansion, he began having frequent nightmares.

In his dreams, Old Yang’s aged face always looked at him kindly, inviting him to drink tea. When he lifted the teacup, he found the rough red clay tea bowl filled with sticky, thick fresh blood.

The old man’s bloody face stared straight at his eyes in the sea of fire, calling him: “Ah Dai—”

Qi Yutai would wake with a start, already covered in cold sweat.

From then on, he began to be wrong.

Sometimes during the day he would also see Old Yang’s shadow, and Ah Dai too. Gradually he began showing signs of confusion and abnormality, crying and cursing. Medical Academy Director Cui Min said this was caused by emotional imbalance—encountering danger had damaged his will, causing fright that led to loss of heart fire.

His father ordered Cui Min to treat him.

Qi Yutai couldn’t remember that period clearly. Cui Min came daily for diagnosis, returning only late at night. His sister wept constantly, his father’s expression was gloomy.

Fortunately, after several months of treatment, he gradually recovered, no longer having dreams or seeing Old Yang’s shadow during the day.

Even the deep knife scar on his waist, after using over ten jars of “Jade Muscle Cream,” left only a very faint trace.

Everything seemed to pass, except he developed one problem.

Whenever he saw orioles or heard their calls, he would feel easily angered and irritated, unable to sit still.

His father simply drove away all birds from the mansion—not a single bird could be found anywhere in the Grand Tutor’s residence.

As for that oriole…

The oriole from Old Yang’s family that he’d taken that day remained locked in its cage. After he returned to the mansion, with his serious injury, heart palpitations, and recovery… everyone in the mansion forgot about that oriole. When they remembered over a month later, they found it in the flower room.

With no one feeding it, the oriole had long since starved to death, its feathers dull and disheveled, stiff and shriveled into a ball.

The servants threw it away, and he could no longer bear to see orioles.

Clear chirping reached his ears, one note after another, each note joyful.

Qi Yutai’s pupils contracted.

Where was that sound coming from?

How could there be orioles here!

Cold rose from his feet as he trembled looking ahead.

That huge, beautiful oriole painting was right before him, the old man and bird equally lifelike. The strange fragrance of fresh tea leaves drilled into his nostrils, making him feel as if he were in the tea gardens of Mangming Village outside the city, unable to distinguish reality from dreams.

The old man looked woodenly at him outside the painting, blood gradually flowing from his eyes and nose—blood tears winding like those under the thatched cottage floor originally, yet more vivid than then.

Qi Yutai screamed miserably and squatted down holding his head.

He moaned and pleaded: “…It wasn’t me… don’t look for me…”

His muddled brain suddenly became extremely painful, as if someone was angrily stirring inside his skull with a thick silver needle. He trembled all over from pain, the surrounding firelight becoming unclear. He didn’t know who he was or where he was now, only hugging his shoulders and sobbing, speaking incoherently: “I am, I am the Grand Tutor’s mansion young master, I’ll give you money…”

“Don’t look, don’t look for me…”

…

The fire downstairs gradually diminished.

Patrol guards wearing fire vests came out of the building, putting away their bamboo ladders. Remaining water bags were stacked to one side.

Shen Fengying wiped the flying ash from his face, feeling relieved.

The fire wasn’t small, and wooden pavilions were flammable and difficult to extinguish, but fortunately there were two military patrol houses near Yanzhi Alley with sufficient water bags and manpower. Everyone in the entire building had been rescued—if they’d been half an hour later, saving people from the upper pavilion wouldn’t have been so easy.

He rubbed his arm and looked toward the firelight at the top of the pavilion.

The fire had started from the topmost floor, so the top pavilion’s fire was also hardest to extinguish. Moreover, wooden beams were easily collapsed by fire, so he didn’t let the patrol guards go up again. Having burned so long, extinguishing the fire had little meaning now—since everyone was safe, there was no need to let the patrol guards take unnecessary risks.

All the rescued people were crowded under awnings not far from the wooden building, wrapped in blankets with lingering shock. Shen Fengying had just put away his water pump when he heard someone in the crowd shout “This person is the Grand Tutor’s mansion young master!”

The Grand Tutor’s mansion young master?

Shen Fengying’s ears perked up, and the water pump slipped from his hands.

He didn’t bother with the pump, turning to ask: “Where? Where is the Grand Tutor’s mansion young master?”

“Here!” Someone in the noisy crowd waved at him, “He said so himself!”

Shen Fengying’s spirits lifted, his nighttime duty fatigue immediately swept away.

There was only one Grand Tutor in the current court, so the Grand Tutor’s mansion young master would be Young Master Qi, right?

Why would Young Master Qi come to Fengle Tower? With his family’s wealth, shouldn’t he go to Qinghe Street in the south?

But such a high official—no one would dare impersonate him.

He’d never even seen the Grand Tutor!

Shen Fengying thought happily—if this really was the Grand Tutor’s mansion young master, having saved his life today would count as a favor. Even if not three promotions, surely one promotion wouldn’t be too much?

He trotted to the awning, cleared his throat softly, and put on a serious but friendly smile, asking: “Where is Young Master Qi?”

Someone pointed for him.

Shen Fengying pushed through the crowd and looked down.

In the center of the crowd, a young master was squatting, his clothes disheveled from the fire, holding his head and muttering something unintelligible.

He seemed frightened.

Heaven have mercy—with such a big fire, these pampered young masters would be severely shocked.

Shen Fengying carefully approached him, speaking gently: “It’s alright, Young Master Qi, the fire is out… Young Master Qi?”

The person on the ground trembled, slowly loosening his arms from around his head, bit by bit raising his face.

Shen Fengying was stunned.

The man looked at him timidly, his face blackened by smoke, lips constantly moving. Shen Fengying leaned closer and heard him saying: “I am the Grand Tutor’s mansion young master… I am Young Master Qi… I’ll give you money… lots of money…”

Before Shen Fengying could speak, the person before him suddenly jumped up in alarm, grabbing Shen Fengying’s robe corner and speaking madly: “Orioles, have you seen orioles? So many, many orioles!”

He laughed crazily: “The orioles are bleeding! They’re coming to kill people!”

All around was dead silence. Not far away, the pavilion fire hadn’t died out. In Yanzhi Alley’s narrow lane, crowds of people densely packed together all looked toward this scene.

Like watching an entertaining circus.

Shen Fengying instinctively stepped back, his gentle expression and smile immediately vanishing.

What was happening?

Was this person really the Grand Tutor’s mansion young master?

Why did he look like…

A madman?