“The old master has left?” Feng Jiu’er frowned. “That’s not possible! He doesn’t even have the ability to leave on his own.”

“Who is it? Did someone take the old master away without Madam Yue’s permission?”

“Yes.” The servant nodded. “It was the Second Master.”

“The Master left early this morning. Madam went to the Yue Family Hall to handle affairs, and the Second Master brought over a dozen men and forced his way in to take the old master away.”

“When Madam got word, she rushed over alone. The steward had just left with a group of men when Miss Long arrived.”

“The Second Master — is that Young Master Xingchen’s second uncle?” Feng Jiu’er asked in a low voice.

“Yes.” The servant nodded in reply.

“Where does the Second Master live? Get the horses ready quickly and lead the way.” Feng Jiu’er was growing anxious.

The Second Master was the second uncle, and the second aunt was the one who had conspired with Yang Hong to harm Sister Hua.

The moment Master Yue left, they’d come to stir up trouble — clearly this had been planned in advance.

Sister Hua always thought of others before herself, never sparing a thought for her own safety, and now she’d gone off alone — Feng Jiu’er couldn’t help but worry.

“Yes.” The servant glanced up, nodded, and immediately turned to head back inside.

In no time, he was mounted and riding out.

The servant led the way on horseback, with Jian Yi driving the carriage behind.

Uneasy, Feng Jiu’er lifted the curtain and stood behind Jian Yi, watching the servant ahead.

“Is the Second Master’s home far? How many men did the steward bring?”

“Not far, about a quarter of an hour’s ride,” the servant said, hearing Feng Jiu’er’s voice and slowing his pace.

“Keep going, don’t stop!” Feng Jiu’er reminded him in a low voice.

“Yes.” The servant nodded. “Miss Long, the steward only took a little over ten men with him.”

“We’ve already sent someone to the Yue Family Hall. They’ll keep sending more people over.”

“Good.” Feng Jiu’er waved a hand. “Pick up the pace — we’ll talk when we get there!”

“Yes.” The servant pulled the reins and quickened the horse’s pace.

In less than a quarter of an hour, the horse and carriage drew near a residence.

In front of the residence, some twenty or thirty people were locked in combat.

Feng Jiu’er looked over from a distance and spotted the steward, but saw no sign of Tang Xiaohua.

The servant saw the fighting and, without a glance back at the others, immediately hurried forward.

As Qiao Mu lifted the curtain, Feng Jiu’er — standing behind Jian Yi — leapt up, stepped off the horse’s back, and in one bound landed atop the estate’s outer wall.

Seeing this, Jian Yi pulled the reins tight and brought the carriage to an abrupt stop.

Qiao Mu turned back, grabbed her own dragon-tongue silver spear, and with a leap followed after Feng Jiu’er.

In the span of a blink, three figures stood atop the wall.

Below, in the main courtyard in front of the central hall, a woman held a silver spear and fought desperately against dozens of men.

“Jiu’er.” Qiao Mu, spear in hand, came up beside Feng Jiu’er. “Is this Madam Yue?”

“Yes.” Feng Jiu’er nodded.

She gazed inward for a moment, then withdrew her eyes and looked at the scene below.

“Qiao Mu, these men — between you and Sister Hua working together, that shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

“No problem.” Qiao Mu replied firmly.

“Good. I’ll leave it to you here. Jian Yi and I will go take a look inside.” Feng Jiu’er nodded and leapt down from the wall.

Jian Yi followed close behind Feng Jiu’er, staying by her side every hour of every day, without fail.

By the time Qiao Mu looked down again, the two of them were already nowhere to be seen.

She glanced once more at the crowd locked in battle, then, without another thought, leapt into the fray, spear in hand.

The silver spear Tang Xiaohua wielded was similar to Qiao Mu’s — even close in thickness and length.

Qiao Mu’s spearhead was shaped like a dragon’s head; Tang Xiaohua’s was shaped like a tiger’s, fierce and menacing.

She was fighting off thirty or forty men alone, clearly struggling somewhat, but not a trace of fear could be found on her face.

Tang Xiaohua swept aside three or four men in front of her — but from the left, the right, even from behind, another dozen or so surged forward.

She spun around quickly, sweeping her silver spear at everyone closing in on her.

Suddenly, a man leapt up sword in hand, slashing down at Tang Xiaohua, who was still tangled with the others.

Tang Xiaohua sensed a comparatively fierce killing intent closing in and immediately turned — only to find another blade already dangerously close at her back.

It had been many years since she’d fought with real blades and spears in earnest, and she knew all too well that her skills had grown rusty.

Just as Tang Xiaohua resigned herself to a minor flesh wound today, a cold, sharp gust of wind rushed toward her at speed.

A shadow flashed past, and the man who had leapt to strike her with his sword took a heavy blow and was sent flying, landing who knows where.

Amid a burst of anguished cries, several men in the middle of the fighting circle collapsed, and suddenly a figure appeared within the ring.

Tang Xiaohua looked at the woman before her — the same height, the same build, only much younger, and likewise armed with a silver spear — and frowned slightly.

“You’re… Qiao Mu?”

Tang Xiaohua looked at this woman who bore a passing resemblance to herself in her younger days, with a similar air about her, and couldn’t help but recall the Qiao Mu she’d heard Xiao Yingtao mention.

“You know me?” Qiao Mu asked, her gaze settling on Tang Xiaohua’s silver spear.

“Jiu’er and Xiao Yingtao have mentioned you before. I didn’t expect you’d also favor this kind of heavy weapon.” Tang Xiaohua’s lips curved up slightly.

“It’s effective!” Qiao Mu nodded, turning to stand back-to-back with Tang Xiaohua in the middle of the fray.

“Qiao Mu, go check on the old master inside. I’m worried someone might try to harm him,” Tang Xiaohua said, tilting her head, her voice low.

“No need to worry — Jiu’er and Jian Yi have already gone in,” Qiao Mu said, eyeing the men closing in. “Is Madam alright? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Don’t worry! I’m fine.” Tang Xiaohua kept her eyes fixed on the men surrounding her.

“As long as you’re fine! These people dare bully Jiu’er’s friend — I won’t let a single one of them off!” Qiao Mu snorted coldly and slammed her silver spear hard against the ground.

With a resounding clang, deafening in the air, the men wielding blades and swords flinched back a step or two, startled.

“Brothers,” someone shouted, though it wasn’t clear who.

“This woman means to harm the old master — even Master Yue’s been played for a fool by her. We can’t let her off easily today.”

“Don’t let her leave!” A number of voices rose in agreement, and once again they surged forward at the two women.

Tang Xiaohua and Qiao Mu, back to back, faced down the men attacking them, their expressions equally resolute and composed.

Inside and outside the main hall, no small number of guards stood watch — yet Feng Jiu’er and Jian Yi slipped in with ease.

Inside the hall, at the head seat, sat an elderly man, with people seated on either side.

“Elder, tell us — hasn’t our eldest brother lost his senses?” said the man seated closest to the head seat on the right, looking at the old man.

“Big Brother’s been bewitched by that woman. If Physician Yang hadn’t told us, we’d still be kept in the dark.” The man on the left shook his head.

“Elder, you’re the only one who can set things right for our old master now.” A woman seated beside the man on the left sighed.

“Last night, Physician Yang was chased and nearly killed. If my people hadn’t happened to pass by, she wouldn’t be alive right now.”