“Third Young Master, may I ask you something?” Jiang Ci asked, her curiosity evident.
Wei Zhao remained silent.
Undeterred, Jiang Ci pressed on, “How did you know I would flee north, and not in any other direction?”
Wei Zhao still didn’t answer. His long robes fluttered as he moved through the snow like a flowing cloud. The cold wind whipped up his loose hair, several strands brushing past Jiang Ci. She took out her hairpin and gently secured his long hair.
As she leaned to the side, she lost her balance and fell backward. Wei Zhao’s hand supported her waist, applying slight pressure. Jiang Ci’s body flipped, and she found herself lying on his back once more. Wei Zhao carried her forward, his voice extremely soft yet clear in Jiang Ci’s ears, “I have a nose like a cheetah’s, capable of detecting scents within a ten-mile radius. Do you believe me?”
Jiang Ci chuckled, her curiosity growing. She couldn’t help but guess, “Did you stay awake the whole time, following me every time I went to the latrine?”
“Or was it Steward Ping following me?”
“Or did you spot me hiding in the forest?”
“Or perhaps Steward Ping found out when I secretly bought laxatives in Changle City?”
Wei Zhao couldn’t help but smile, “If I told you that you could never escape my sight in this lifetime, that no matter where you go, I could always find you, would you believe me?”
Jiang Ci laughed out loud, but inwardly she was puzzled, not understanding how this “faceless cat” had caught her. Now that her escape attempt had failed, she needed to figure out why, to prepare for her next attempt. She just hoped to lull him into a false sense of security once more, seeking another chance to flee.
As she pondered, Wei Zhao suddenly asked, “What about you?”
“What?” Jiang Ci was confused.
“Earlier, you pretended to be submissive, offering to serve me, and enduring everything silently. Was it to lower my guard so you could find a chance to escape? You even used my money to buy laxatives and a dagger. I didn’t expect such acting skills from a little girl like you.”
Jiang Ci glared at the back of Wei Zhao’s head, then took out the banknotes from her bosom and reached to open his robe.
Wei Zhao’s expression changed abruptly, and he grabbed her hand forcefully. Jiang Ci winced in pain and hurriedly explained, “I’m returning the money to you. Don’t misunderstand, I’m not trying to harm you. I don’t have that ability.”
Wei Zhao’s eyes flickered, and he released his right hand, saying coolly, “What this Third Young Master has given away, he doesn’t take back.”
Jiang Ci smiled, “If that’s the case, then I won’t be polite.” She tucked the banknotes back into her bosom.
Wei Zhao shook his head, “Not only are you good at acting, but you’re also quite thick-skinned.”
“I tried to return it to you, but you didn’t want it. Now that I’ve kept it, you say I’m thick-skinned. You people never speak the truth. How exhausting it must be to live like that!”
Wei Zhao fell silent and quickened his pace. Jiang Ci laughed, “Third Young Master, shall I sing a song for you?”
Wei Zhao didn’t respond. Jiang Ci began to sing a melodious tune called “Dui Lang Diao.” Wei Zhao felt somewhat irritated and raised his fingers to strike, but just as his fingertips were about to touch Jiang Ci’s mute acupoint, he stopped abruptly and withdrew his hand.
Jiang Ci saw this clearly and knew that her words had finally gotten to him. For now, she was safe. Her song took on a more joyful tone, clear and sweet like rolling pearls. Wei Zhao walked on silently, suddenly realizing that the melody wasn’t as grating as he had first thought, and unconsciously quickened his pace.
As night fell, the three arrived at Yuping Ridge. The cold wind was even fiercer, making it difficult for Jiang Ci to keep her eyes open.
Steward Ping looked at the sky and said, “Young Master, it seems we won’t make it back to Xingyue Valley today. We’ll have to find a place to rest for the night in these wild mountains.”
Wei Zhao set Jiang Ci down and looked around. With a few leaps, he climbed a nearby large tree and jumped back down. “Steward Ping, there’s a house over there. Go check it out.”
Steward Ping nodded and left. Jiang Ci found it a bit strange, but seeing Wei Zhao standing silently in the snow with his hands behind his back, she didn’t think much of it.
Soon, Steward Ping returned and nodded. Wei Zhao once again carried Jiang Ci on his back and followed a small path uphill, arriving at a wooden cabin.
Jiang Ci had spent the previous night fleeing in fear and hardship, and then been carried by this unpredictable “faceless cat” through wind and snow all day. Now, seeing the warm orange candlelight from inside the cabin and smelling the faint aroma of food, she suddenly thought of the small courtyard in Deng Family Village. If she hadn’t left home to wander the jianghu, wouldn’t she be living a simple and happy life with her senior sister right now?
Wei Zhao took a few steps forward, then turned back to see Jiang Ci staring blankly at the wooden cabin. His face flashed with impatience, and he grabbed her collar. Jiang Ci snapped out of it and said calmly, “Third Young Master, I’m a person. I can walk by myself. You don’t need to carry me around like a puppy or kitten.”
Wei Zhao let go, sneered, and turned to enter the cabin.
Jiang Ci followed him in. Wei Zhao had already seated himself at the table in the main room. Steward Ping offered him bamboo chopsticks. Without looking up, Wei Zhao said coldly, “If you’re a person, then sit down and eat with us.”
Jiang Ci sat down and asked, “Where are the owners of this cabin?” She picked up the chopsticks and took a bite of shredded radish, noticing that the food wasn’t hot, but rather cool. Her heart suddenly raced, and she stood up abruptly.
Wei Zhao glanced at her sideways. Jiang Ci felt both angry and sad, and said softly, “What did you do to them?”
Wei Zhao ate leisurely and replied, “What do you think I did to them?”
Jiang Ci felt her hands trembling. Her fear of this man made her want to sit back down at the table, ignoring the possibility that Steward Ping might have killed the family to silence them, pretending as if nothing had happened and eating this “delicious” meal. But she couldn’t bring herself to turn a blind eye. She just stood there by the table, staring at Wei Zhao.
Wei Zhao looked up at her, a contemptuous smile curling his lips. “You’re like a clay Buddha crossing a river – barely able to save yourself, yet you’re trying to stand up for others. Don’t you know your limitations?”
Jiang Ci took two steps back and said softly, “Please continue your meal, Third Young Master. I’m not hungry, so I won’t join you.” She turned and left the main room, standing under the big tree in front of the door, letting the wild snowflakes hit her face, trying to freeze the hatred in her heart for those who kill innocent people indiscriminately.
The surrounding mountains and valleys were engulfed in the thick night, and Jiang Ci looked down at the snow, feeling deeply upset.
The sound of snow being lightly crushed came from behind her. Jiang Ci turned around. Steward Ping’s voice rang out, “Little girl, come here.”
Jiang Ci hesitated but eventually followed Steward Ping into a woodshed on the west side of the cabin. Steward Ping raised the candle he was holding, and Jiang Ci could clearly see a farming couple and two young children lying side by side among the firewood, breathing lightly, obviously having had their sleep acupoints pressed.
Jiang Ci was delighted. Steward Ping said, “They are people of the Yueluo Clan. Although the Young Master doesn’t want anyone to know of his whereabouts, he wouldn’t allow me to kill his clansmen indiscriminately.”
Jiang Ci lowered her head. Steward Ping’s tone became increasingly stern, “Little girl, listen well. You’ve already caused us to deviate from our original plan of returning to Xingyue Valley. If you cause any more trouble by running your mouth, don’t blame me for being unkind! The Young Master may tolerate you, but I won’t!”
Jiang Ci gave a soft “Mm” and left the woodshed. She walked to the main room, sat down silently beside Wei Zhao, hurriedly finished her dinner, then cleaned up the bowls and chopsticks, boiled some hot water, and brought it out.
Wei Zhao and Steward Ping were sitting by the fire basin in the main room. Steward Ping added a handful of firewood to the basin. Wei Zhao, with his fine eyebrows and cloud-like black hair, had his eyes half-closed as he reclined in a bamboo chair. The firelight danced, making his face appear as beautiful as a peach blossom.
Jiang Ci soaked a piece of linen cloth she had found in the kitchen in hot water, wrung it out carefully, and offered it to Wei Zhao. “Third Young Master.”
Wei Zhao opened his eyes after a while, looked at the cloth, then closed his eyes again. “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t serve me anymore? What’s this? Have you gotten so used to being a servant that you don’t know how to be a person anymore?”
Jiang Ci was taken aback, and after a moment, she said, “I was wrong to misjudge Third Young Master earlier. Please don’t take it to heart. Now I’m willingly serving Third Young Master, consider it an apology. It’s not about being a servant or not!”
Wei Zhao remained silent for a moment, then raised his chin slightly. Jiang Ci didn’t move, and Wei Zhao impatiently said, “Why are you so stupid!”
Jiang Ci realized what he meant. She re-soaked the cloth in hot water, wrung it out, and crouched beside Wei Zhao’s chair, gently wiping his face. The linen was a bit rough, and Wei Zhao frowned slightly. He was about to push Jiang Ci away when she noticed a scar on the right side of his neck, seemingly from a bite. She pressed the cloth against it and said softly, “Third Young Master, this—”
Wei Zhao’s expression changed dramatically. His hand moved like lightning, violently grabbing Jiang Ci’s right hand and throwing her towards the fire basin. Jiang Ci was caught off guard, and her right hand landed in the fire basin. She cried out in pain, cradling her right arm, tears streaming down her face.
Wei Zhao crouched beside her, his voice as cold as ice, “From now on, stay away from me. If you anger me again, watch out for your little life!”
Jiang Ci fought back the intense pain and tears, suddenly raising her head to glare at him. “I didn’t know that the famous Wei Zhao, the great Wei Daren, was an untrustworthy, fickle, and despicable person!”
The black eyes before him were full of hatred and contempt. Wei Zhao felt a moment of confusion. Many years ago, when he first entered Prince Qingde’s mansion, suffering humiliation and bullying, did he have the same look in his eyes?
Jiang Ci’s burned palm was in excruciating pain, and she couldn’t help but wave it a few times, sucking in cold air. Wei Zhao stared at her for a moment, then stood up and said, “Steward Ping, put some medicine on her wound. We can’t let it get worse and delay our journey!”
As the night deepened, the mountain wind made the wooden windows rattle lightly. Jiang Ci sat dazedly on the kang bed, listening to the faint, plaintive sound of a bamboo flute coming from outside.
The wind grew stronger, sounding like the whispers of ghosts and demons, the cold penetrating to the bone, as if being cut by swords. Wei Zhao stood in the snow, the sound of his bamboo flute rising and falling, changing from a whimper to a deep anger, soaring into the sky.
Steward Ping stood to one side, listening quietly, his eyes gradually filling with sadness. As the last note of the flute fell, he let out a soft sigh.
Wei Zhao’s slender fingers held the bamboo flute, slowly rotating it as he squinted into the deep night, not saying a word.
After a long while, Steward Ping said softly, “Young Master, the old Sect Leader didn’t suffer when he passed away. You shouldn’t be too sad.”
Wei Zhao shook his head, “No, Steward Ping, I’m not sad. Master sought virtue and attained it, dying for a worthy cause. With me inheriting his great cause, he left without regrets.”
“Yes, today is the death anniversary of the old Sect Leader. If his spirit is in heaven, seeing Young Master on the verge of success, with the great cause about to be accomplished, he must be very pleased. Before he left, he also told me that he shouldn’t have pushed Young Master into this fire pit, and asked Young Master not to hate—”
Wei Zhao interrupted him, “I don’t hate Master. Steward Ping, this path was destined for me from birth. I have no way to escape it. I only hate myself for enduring until now, to find this sliver of opportunity to save our Yueluo people.”
A hint of joy appeared on Steward Ping’s face, “I only pray that the Star and Moon God will bless us, that our great plan succeeds, and that the Yueluo people no longer have to live days of bowing and scraping, enduring humiliation.”
Wei Zhao raised his head to gaze at the sky. Snowflakes hung on his eyebrows as he gradually smiled, “Bo Yun Mountain, Pei Shaojun, you’d better not disappoint me.”
He turned around and saw that the candle was still lit in the room where Jiang Ci was sleeping. He frowned slightly, “Is that girl’s burn not too serious?”
“It’s quite severe, but I’ve applied medicine. It shouldn’t be a major problem, but she’ll have to endure the pain of the flesh wound.”
Wei Zhao said nothing more. Steward Ping hesitated repeatedly, but finally said, “Young Master, forgive me for speaking out of turn, but you’re being too lenient with this girl. Why not just tie her up, or knock her unconscious and put her in a sack for me to carry? Why do you personally—”
Wei Zhao’s gaze fixed on the candlelight shadow behind the window, and he said softly, “Steward Ping, for all these years, you’ve guarded ‘Yujia Mountain Villa’ for me, trained Su Jun and the others for me, and liaised with people in the sect. I’m very grateful to you. But do you know what kind of life I lived when I first entered Prince Qingde’s mansion?”
Steward Ping felt a pain in his heart and lowered his head.
Wei Zhao’s voice grew softer, almost inaudible, “This girl may be annoying, but when I see her like this, I always remember… remember myself when I first entered Prince Qingde’s mansion—”
Steward Ping’s eyes grew moist, and he turned his head away.
Wei Zhao’s words caught in his throat: Steward Ping, do you know, back then, I was like this girl, only wishing that others would stop treating me like a servant. Like this girl, I struggled, I was angry, I cried, but I still became the Wei Sanlang of today—
He suddenly turned around, “Let’s rest early. We must return to Xingyue Valley tomorrow.”
As he walked towards the house, just as he reached the main door, Jiang Ci rushed out.
Wei Zhao stepped aside slightly, and Jiang Ci ran straight past him into the woodshed to the west. Soon, she came out carrying a young child. Her right hand was burned, so she could only use her left hand to carry the child. The child was nearly ten years old and quite tall, making it difficult for Jiang Ci to carry. She walked towards her room.
Wei Zhao frowned slightly, “What are you doing?”
Jiang Ci replied as she walked, “Damn it, I just realized, leaving them in the woodshed on such a snowy day, they might freeze to death.” She entered the room, placed the child on the kang bed, covered them with a blanket, then turned back to the woodshed to bring in the slightly younger child.
Wei Zhao leaned against the doorframe, his gaze cold as he watched Jiang Ci arrange the children in neat rows. Noting her hesitation, he shook his head. “Let’s see where you’re going to sleep.”
Jiang Ci sat on the edge of the kang, gently rubbing the stiffened hands of one of the children without looking up. “I’ll stay here for the night. You should get some rest, Third Master.”
Wei Zhao turned and walked into the room on the east side, where Ping Shu was preparing his bedding. Wei Zhao removed his outer robe but paused with his hand at his neck, thinking for a moment. “Ping Shu, are there any extra quilts?”
Ping Shu opened the wooden cupboard and checked. “Yes, there are still some.”
“Send another quilt to that girl. If there are any left, take one to the woodshed.”