Jiang Ci inwardly exclaimed, “Oh no!” She didn’t know what she had said wrong to anger this unpredictable Wei Sanlang. Seeing his anger intensifying, she suppressed the pain in her throat and struggled to say, “I’ll mind my own business and won’t say anything more. Why are you getting so angry? If you strangle me to death over a single sentence, it would be such a waste—”
Wei Zhao’s expression fluctuated between dark and light. After a while, he let out a cold snort and withdrew his right hand.
Jiang Ci coughed as she sat up. Seeing Wei Zhao’s stern face glaring at her, her mind raced, and she softly said, “Sect Leader Xiao, since I can’t escape your grasp anyway, and I’m willing to use your help to deal with Pei Yan to quench the hatred in my heart, I guess we’ll have to spend quite a long time together. How about this: since you don’t have a maid by your side, I’ll attend to your daily needs. I won’t talk too much and will follow your instructions in everything. Once the matter with Pei Yan is settled, I’ll be of no consequence to the bigger picture, and then we can discuss parting ways. How does that sound?”
After listening to her, Wei Zhao said indifferently, “From what you’re saying, you want to sell yourself to me as a maid?”
Jiang Ci quickly waved her hands and said, “It’s not selling, just temporarily serving you. Don’t worry, I’ll do a great job. Even someone as picky as Pei Yan was satisfied with me. If we keep fighting all the time, it’s pointless and not conducive to our future cooperation, don’t you think?”
A smile gradually appeared on Wei Zhao’s face. “This proposal of yours is not bad. I’d like to see how good you are at serving people, to make even the usually particular Young Lord not picky.”
Jiang Ci clapped her hands together and smiled, “Then it’s settled.” She then extended her hand towards Wei Zhao and said, “Now, I trouble the Sect Leader to give me some money. I need to buy some things.”
“What things?”
“You’ll know when I bring them back. I guarantee you’ll be satisfied.”
Wei Zhao took out a stack of banknotes from his sleeve and tossed them to Jiang Ci. “When we enter Changle City, have Uncle Ping accompany you. Also, from now on, don’t call me Sect Leader. Call me Third Master.”
Jiang Ci happily picked up the banknotes and said, “Yes, Third Master.”
Changle City was located in the northwest of the Hua Dynasty, with the Tongfeng River to the north and the thousand-mile-long Yueluo Mountain Range to the west. It had always been a strategically important location fought over by military strategists. Inside and outside the city, tens of thousands of troops were stationed, led by General Wang Lang, the brother-in-law of the Crown Prince’s father-in-law, Grand Scholar Dong.
At noon, the carriage entered Changle City. Due to the ceasefire with the Huan Kingdom, the inspection at the city gate was not strict. The coachman, Uncle Ping, slipped some silver to the soldiers guarding the gate. The soldiers gave a cursory look and, seeing only a young girl with a flushed face coughing incessantly in the carriage, let them pass.
Uncle Ping drove the carriage to a secluded residence in the east of the city, entering directly through the back courtyard. Wei Zhao flashed out from a hidden compartment inside the carriage, still covering his face, and went straight into the main room. Jiang Ci, carrying several thousand taels worth of banknotes, wore a wide-brimmed hat with a blue veil and, “accompanied” by Uncle Ping, went to the silver exchange to convert some silver and purchase various items.
Upon returning to the residence, Wei Zhao was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t until Jiang Ci and Uncle Ping had finished dinner and night had fallen that he silently vaulted over the back wall.
Jiang Ci was holding a jade bowl, collecting snow from the pine branches in the courtyard when she saw Wei Zhao leap over the wall. Startled, she noticed his black clothes and masked face, with a sword on his back. In the candlelight, there seemed to be fresh blood on the blade. She quickly put down the jade bowl and went to greet him, “Has Third Master had dinner?”
Wei Zhao glanced at her, entered the room, and Uncle Ping followed, forcefully closing the door. Jiang Ci smiled and returned to continue collecting snow from the pine branches.
Wei Zhao removed his human skin mask, placed the long sword on the table, and loosened the collar of his night-raid clothes. He asked, “Has this girl been behaving?”
Uncle Ping replied, “Behaving in an unusually good manner.”
Wei Zhao coldly snorted, “Let’s see what tricks she’s up to!”
Uncle Ping glanced at the sword with traces of blood on the table and softly said, “Young Master, you always risk danger personally. If something were to happen—”
Wei Zhao interrupted him, “Are you doubting my martial skills?”
“I wouldn’t dare,” Uncle Ping quickly lowered his head and said, “Young Master’s martial arts surpass even the old Sect Leader’s. It’s just that Su Jun, Su Yan, Yingying, and Xiaoxiao have all come of age. They’ve been in hiding for so many years; it should be time for them to show their abilities. Young Master could just order them to handle matters instead of risking yourself.”
Wei Zhao, noticing some snacks on the table, ate while saying, “Wang Lang’s skills are not inferior to Su Jun’s. To wound him just right and frame someone else at the same time, I had to do it myself.”
“I see,” Uncle Ping said. “The city will likely be in chaos soon. Will Young Master depart immediately or stay for a few more days?”
Wei Zhao pondered, “We’ll have to wait for news from Mount Boyun and Pei Yan’s location before I can return to Mount Yueluo. Since we have a secret chamber here, we might as well stay for a few more days.”
A cheerful song drifted in. Uncle Ping frowned slightly, and after a moment, said, “Young Master, forgive me for speaking out of turn, but why bring this girl along? She’s just a burden. Why not have Yingying and the others take her to Mount Yueluo?”
Wei Zhao stood up, walked to the window, and peered through the lattice at Jiang Ci, who was happily humming a tune in the courtyard. A faint smile played on his lips. “Uncle Ping, my master once taught me that to defeat an enemy, you must find their weakness.”
Uncle Ping said, “That’s true, but in my opinion, Pei Yan is cold and heartless. Even if he has developed feelings for this girl, he won’t be easily manipulated because of it.”
Wei Zhao chuckled, “Whether he cooperates with us depends on his ambition. This girl can only restrain him temporarily. What interests me more is what made him fall for her—an orphaned mountain girl with an unknown background. Perhaps this is Pei Yan’s weakness.”
He turned around and continued, “Uncle Ping, to fulfill my master’s dying wish and save our people, we must cooperate with Pei Yan for now. But in the future, as circumstances change, Pei Yan might become our greatest enemy. This man is as deep as the sea, cold and ruthless. He schemes for power, advancing step by step, yet acts cautiously, leaving no trace of misconduct. If we let his ambitions succeed, our people will have nowhere to live in peace. If I can find his weakness now and plan, we can avoid great trouble in the future.”
“Young Master is right. It was foolish of me,” Uncle Ping replied.
“You may go now. Send that girl in,” Wei Zhao instructed.
“Yes, sir.”
Jiang Ci entered carrying the jade bowl, covered the copper kettle with snow, and placed it on the charcoal stove to boil. She then brewed a cup of Dragon Ball tea and served it to Wei Zhao.
Wei Zhao sipped the tea slowly, leaning back on the brocade couch with his feet propped up on a footstool. Jiang Ci smiled as she approached, removed his boots, and replaced them with cloth shoes. Suddenly, Wei Zhao stretched out his leg and said coldly, “Wash my feet.”
Jiang Ci softly replied, “Yes,” turned to pour hot water from the copper kettle, squatted down, and washed Wei Zhao’s feet, carefully drying them. Wei Zhao watched her with interest and suddenly asked, “Is this how you usually serve Pei Yan?”
Jiang Ci didn’t answer.
Wei Zhao leaned down, and studied her for a moment, then suddenly his expression changed slightly. He reached out to press Jiang Ci’s acupoint, picked her up, and leaped onto the bed. Before Jiang Ci could react, she heard a soft “click,” and the bed board flipped, causing her to fall with Wei Zhao into a hidden compartment beneath the bed.
The compartment was pitch black. Jiang Ci faintly heard the shouts of officials and Uncle Ping’s respectful replies from above. Soon, footsteps approached, and several people entered the room.
“Gentlemen officers, only this humble one resides in this house. This is my main room,” Uncle Ping said.
“You live here alone, with no one else?” an officer asked.
“Yes, I have a family, but they went to Youzhou a few days ago to visit my sick brother-in-law. So it’s just me living here now.”
The officers searched the room, cursing and grumbling.
“Damn it all, these Huan Kingdom assassins don’t let us have a peaceful day. Having to go out and catch people in this heavy snow.”
“Stop complaining. General Wang was seriously injured this time. We don’t know if the Huan people will take advantage of the heavy snow to attack. We’d better focus on saving our own lives.”
Uncle Ping, seemingly very nervous, asked, “Officers, has General Wang been injured?”
It sounded like someone struck Uncle Ping with a horsewhip. “How dare you ask such a question?!”
After some commotion, the voices of the officers gradually faded away. Jiang Ci raised her head from Wei Zhao’s embrace. It must have been his doing, right? The blood on the sword was likely that of General Wang Lang. He had impersonated a Huan Kingdom assassin and wounded Wang Lang, surely with some grand scheme behind it. Jiang Ci suddenly felt a wave of fear, her whole body turning cold.
After waiting a while longer, a light knocking sound came from above the hidden compartment. Wei Zhao pressed a mechanism and jumped out of the compartment with Jiang Ci in his arms. Uncle Ping said, “They shouldn’t come back to search tonight.”
Wei Zhao nodded and tossed Jiang Ci onto the bed. He turned and said, “Go leave a secret mark telling Yingying and Xiaoxiao not to wait for me. They should return directly to Mount Yueluo and proceed according to the original plan.”
After Uncle Ping left, Wei Zhao stood silently for a moment, then cupped his chin and paced the room several times before turning back to lie on the bed. Jiang Ci’s acupoint was still sealed, and she was thrown to the corner of the bed. She heard him seemingly fall asleep and inwardly cried out in distress. Fortunately, after half an hour, there was a soft “tap tap” on the window.
Wei Zhao opened his eyes. Uncle Ping said from outside, “Young Master, we have news from Nan’an Prefecture.”
Wei Zhao threw off the covers and got out of bed. He glanced at Jiang Ci, leaned close to her ear, and whispered, “Do you want to know news about Pei Yan?”
Jiang Ci’s breath caught, and she turned her head away.
Wei Zhao smiled happily as he put on his outer robe, casually lowered the gauze curtain, walked to the front hall, sat down, and said, “Come in.”
Uncle Ping entered and said softly, “I’ve left the secret mark. Yingying and the others should see it and return directly to Mount Yueluo. We’ve also received a secret message from Tong Yu.”
“What does it say?”
“Pei Yan is still at Changfeng Manor. The Changfeng Guard secretly investigated several nearby prefectures without making a fuss. On the fifth day, our people received a reply.”
Wei Zhao lowered his head and took a sip of tea. “And?”
“The message contained only one line of poetry: ‘Ice and water do not harm each other, spring chases the fragrance along flowing streams.'”
Wei Zhao’s brows and eyes relaxed, a smile gradually spreading across his face like a spring breeze or a blooming water lily. Uncle Ping watched, somewhat dazed, suddenly reminded of another face from over twenty years ago, and slowly lowered his head.
“Ice and water do not harm each other, spring chases the fragrance along flowing streams!” Wei Zhao recited softly, a faint smile on his face but his eyes cold. “Young Lord, oh Young Lord, one day we must become enemies. When that time comes, you will be ice, and I will be fire. Ice and fire cannot coexist—what shall we do then?”
Jiang Ci sat inside the curtain, and even though her acupoint was sealed, she felt her whole body trembling. The mist that had shrouded her heart for days seemed about to be dispelled, with the truth right before her eyes. She slowly closed her eyes.
Wei Zhao lifted the gauze curtain and gazed at Jiang Ci, who was leaning in the corner of the bed with her eyes closed. A look of disgust flashed across his face as he unsealed her acupoint and threw her onto the footstool by the bed. “Don’t sleep too deeply. I need someone to serve tea and water for me tonight!”
Jiang Ci sat silently on the footstool for a long time. Hearing that Wei Zhao seemed to have fallen asleep, she got up and blew out the candle. She stepped as lightly as a cat, sat back on the footstool, and slowly buried her head between her knees. A voice in her heart whispered: Xiao Ci, endure a little longer. You’ll have a chance eventually. You’ll be able to escape back to the Deng family village!
Snow continued to fall in sheets, covering the vast land in a single color. Even the blue-green glazed tiles of Changfeng Manor were buried under thick snow.
In the east wing of “Biwu Grass Hall,” Pei Yan looked at the poem on the rice paper—”Spring blossoms open, chasing distant streams; The south wind knows its intent, reaching the mountain pass”—a smile gradually appearing on his face as he put down his brush. The maid Zhenzhu handed him a hot towel. Pei Yan wiped his hands and turned to An Chen, saying, “Feeling bored being cooped up in the manor all day?”
An Chen smiled and said, “If the Prime Minister’s hands are itching for action, the beasts on the back mountain are just idling away.”
Pei Yan smiled with great satisfaction. “I know you’re itching to move. Let’s go and stretch our muscles a bit. We can’t stay idle like this. In two months, we won’t have such peaceful days anymore.”
An Chen followed Pei Yan out of the east wing and saw him pause, looking towards the west wing rooms. He softly called, “Prime Minister.”
Pei Yan let out a soft “Oh” and turned his head. The maid Yingtao approached from the corridor. Pei Yan frowned slightly and said, “Wait a moment.”
Yingtao stopped, and Pei Yan said, “Put it on me.”
Yingtao looked at the fox fur cloak in her hands and said, “Prime Minister, this fox fur cloak has two large burn holes—”
Pei Yan’s piercing gaze swept over her, and she quickly swallowed her words, helping Pei Yan put on and fasten the cloak before bowing her head and retreating.
Pei Yan lowered his head to look at the hem of the fox fur cloak. That night, the large charred holes burned by the charcoal fire were like a pair of bright black eyes, leaving him with only terror and hatred in the end. He smiled and walked out of “Biwu Grass Hall” with his hands behind his back.
As the sky darkened, the group returned to the manor. Pei Yan brushed the snowflakes off his fox fur cloak. The steward, Cen Wu, approached and bowed, saying, “Prime Minister, a letter has arrived from Madam.”
Pei Yan took the note and, observing Cen Wu leading the servants to collect the game from An Cheng and the others, casually withdrew the letter and said, “Inform the kitchen that I would like to have ‘Beggar’s Chicken’ for dinner tonight.”