The drum sounds dong-dong, the bell sounds ding-ding.
Two figures in goose-yellow danced while beating drums and ringing bells, like two fluttering butterflies, indescribably graceful.
Mo Zi appreciated the two people’s exquisite dance moves when she suddenly became curious. “Yuan Cheng, these two people were originally trained for you, weren’t they?” Not only skilled in martial arts, but also in dance.
Yuan Cheng had called out her surname, removing a worry from her heart, because she had never known how to bring up her background with him. Now that he knew, it couldn’t be considered deliberate concealment. She didn’t tell him much about the past, only saying her father and brothers were no longer in this world, that she wanted to find her only younger sister and live a simple life, having absolutely no resonance with Great Qiu’s wish to bring her back to build ships. Just a few brief words, just as Yuan Cheng also hadn’t said much about his experiences in Nande—neither had any intention of digging deep into the other’s past. The two were clear about what they needed to do now, then formed an alliance to help each other out when needed.
“Mo Zi, if I had many death warriors, I wouldn’t have needed you to ferry me to escape.” Yuan Cheng shook his head. Those guards and household protectors he had raised back then—when trouble came, they all ran. He was ultimately young, and although he had already begun establishing shadow forces, they hadn’t yet taken shape at that time. “Though my Yuan clan suffered the disaster of extermination, aside from me, there was one distant Yuan-surnamed relative from a collateral branch and some loyal servants who escaped misfortune. After I arrived in the Great Zhou, they found me. Only then did I learn they had secretly collected the corpses from the mass grave mound, built West Mountain’s Quan Tomb, changed their names and surnames, and went into hiding here. These two were a meeting gift from some time ago. But I don’t like having women attend me personally, and felt they would be most suitable for you.”
Hiding here? A flash of inspiration struck Mo Zi’s mind. “Could it be that those people in the village below the mountain are—” Ah—and that old woman halfway up the mountain.
“I heard from Cheng’er that he invited Miss Mo here. I was firmly opposed at first. The little blood and foundation the Yuan clan has left is truly hard-won and must not be destroyed in the hands of fools.” A voice sounded outside the white screen.
The two women who had already become Mo Zi’s subordinates immediately stopped drumming and ringing, dropped to one knee, and lowered their heads.
Seeing this, Yuan Cheng said coldly: “It seems I still need to teach you who your master is now. Did your master tell you to stop dancing? Did she tell you to kneel? If you don’t listen, I can’t give you away. Get up and continue dancing and playing—unless your master speaks.”
The two women looked at Mo Zi, some panic and unease in their eyes, and hurriedly rose to dance again.
When Yuan Cheng spoke out to discipline them, Mo Zi said not a word. Indeed, if the distinction wasn’t clear, what she would receive wouldn’t be loyal death warriors but watchers like Ye’er. She had suffered that hardship before, so she didn’t soften her heart.
“Cheng’er is right. They’re accustomed to fearing me. I hope Miss Mo won’t mind.” The person emerged from behind the screen.
Mo Zi saw the newcomer clearly and blurted out: “Just as I thought, it’s you.”
Who else but the halfway-mountain old woman? Though now she didn’t lean on a walking stick but had a sword at her waist instead, wearing black tight-fitting clothes. In her forties, her face didn’t have so many wrinkles and her hair was still black, but those eyes were the old woman’s eyes—she had just transformed into an elegant middle-aged woman.
“Miss Mo saw through me at a glance. I can’t help but believe Cheng’er’s words. This woman is named Jiao Niang. I’m from the branch of Cheng’er’s grandfather’s concubine-born younger brother—in terms of seniority, I’m an aunt.” She smiled at Mo Zi.
“Aunt Jiao.” Mo Zi quickly stood and curtsied. The family was basically wiped out—dividing into legitimate and concubine-born lines would leave none remaining. “If I was rude when asking for directions earlier, please forgive me, Aunt Jiao.”
“It was that boy you brought who was rude—it has nothing to do with you. However, I didn’t really deceive you. I married, became a widow. As for children, though my biological ones died young, those I’ve raised are all like my own children. Also, you asked if I’d seen anyone go up the mountain today. I said no, because Cheng’er came last night.” She merely spoke cleverly.
Mo Zi naturally wouldn’t argue with someone’s elder and nodded in agreement.
“Aunt Jiao, did you see my other guest up ahead?” Yuan Cheng remained seated, slowly drinking wine, his eyes not leaving the dance at the center.
“I didn’t, but I’ve already sent people to inquire. As long as they’re within twenty li, there should be news soon. Just wait a bit.” Aunt Jiao didn’t sit either, just stood beside Yuan Cheng, also watching the dance.
Though Mo Zi thought legitimate and concubine-born shouldn’t be distinguished, this aunt’s attitude toward her nephew seemed rather respectful.
Just after saying “wait a bit,” not long after, Mo Zi heard Yi Dan call out “who goes there?”
Someone reported from outside: “Fifteen li east in the forest at the head of Hua Family Village, there are sounds of fighting. One party seems to be the young master’s guest. I’ve already sent people to guard outside, just waiting for a signal from here. As soon as it’s sent, we’ll move to rescue them.”
Mo Zi exclaimed in surprise.
“How many people did my guest bring?” Yuan Cheng looked at Mo Zi and nodded slightly, telling her not to worry.
“A pair of twin youths and an old carriage driver. But the other side has over ten people. The numbers differ greatly—I don’t think they can hold out much longer.” The messenger answered.
“Then there’s no hurry.” Yuan Cheng finally stood up. “Aunt Jiao, as you said, the foundation Yuan clan is rebuilding isn’t easy. Unless necessary, it cannot be exposed to people.”
He said to Mo Zi: “Call Zan Jin. Let’s go have a look. I hope your second brother can hold out. But if he can’t pass this test and loses his life, at least you can hold his memorial tablet and cry a few times—that way his life won’t have been in vain.”
Mo Zi followed him walking with her head down. Only after leaving the lovesickness forest did she suppress a question: “Why am I the one holding the tablet and crying, not you?” Before making her play the filial younger brother, look at her gender first.
“Do I look like someone who could cry for him?” Not stabbing that guy in the back was already his conscience showing.
Mo Zi was exasperated. “You don’t, but I do?”
“You do.” This was an indisputable fact.
Going down the mountain with Zan Jin carrying her, she only heard wind whooshing by her ears—much easier than coming up. At the mountain’s foot, Mo Zi’s carriage was still there. Yuan Cheng entered without invitation. The carriage wasn’t large. She and he sat face to face, knees almost touching. She urged him to get out, but he didn’t budge an inch. Looking out the carriage window, he had Yi Dan and Zan Jin drive, not waiting for the others.
These two had such excellent skills that they left Aunt Jiao and Mo Zi’s newly received two women far behind—their shadows couldn’t even be seen yet.
Yi Dan called out twice and the carriage galloped off.
“Mo Zi.” Yuan Cheng called her.
“What?” Mo Zi just felt it was cramped, not unaccustomed. Riding in a carriage with him already had some history—it could be traced back half a year.
“Aunt Jiao—when speaking with her, you need to be a bit guarded.” Yuan Cheng casually picked up a booklet, completely ignoring Mo Zi as the owner of this carriage, and contentedly flipped through it.
Mo Zi was very surprised. “Isn’t she your aunt?”
“Just because she says so means I must believe it?” Yuan Cheng started carelessly, then straightened his sitting posture and looked down carefully. “I was in Nande for over ten years and she never came to find me. Suddenly acknowledging kinship like this—isn’t that strange?”
“But didn’t she show you keepsakes, proof, things like that? I see Quan Tomb and the lovesickness forest took enormous effort—doesn’t seem like someone who would impersonate your Yuan family. Besides, impersonating criminal officials whose injustice hasn’t been cleared—aside from aiming for beheading, what else could they gain?” People could lie, but trees couldn’t. “Those lovesickness trees were truly planted nearly twenty years ago. Even if there’s a conspiracy, could it be laid out and waited for this long?”
“She has my father’s heirloom jade pendant and my mother’s most beloved bronze mirror.” He had some impression of these two items at age five, and the person who took him to escape also mentioned them.
“Then that’s it.” Mo Zi looked at Yuan Cheng, feeling somewhat sympathetic. Walking the path of revenge alone for too long, too hard—he didn’t dare easily trust even relatives.
“I don’t know. It’s just intuition.” Yuan Cheng raised his head and gazed at Mo Zi. “Anyway, listen to me. Also, those two death warriors—using them as scapegoats is fine, but speak fewer heartfelt and intimate words. Don’t wishfully think of them as sisters.”
“If you don’t trust Aunt Jiao, why did you accept the people she sent? And then give them to me? Are you looking for trouble for yourself or creating trouble for me?” A string of questions, popping up one after another—completely confused.
“This is called making full use of people’s abilities, strategic planning.” Yuan Cheng always had something to say, and guaranteed to say it perfectly. “Setting aside everything else, these two people are suitable to keep by your side. At critical moments, you’ll have two extra lives to save yourself. You must know, heavily using someone’s abilities doesn’t necessarily mean you need their loyalty. When more and more people follow you, those who are truly for you will always only be those few. You just need to have clear eyes and understanding to distinguish them.”
He was teaching her. Mo Zi lowered her eyes, digesting this lesson. But she didn’t know if she could do it. She was someone who developed feelings over time. Any person, any thing, any place—after being together long enough, as long as they weren’t too terrible or fundamentally beyond saving, she would develop feelings.
After silence, looking at Yuan Cheng again, she discovered he was reading her things. She hurried to grab them. “Yuan Cheng, you can’t look—trade secrets.” In her urgency, modern language slipped out.
But Yuan Cheng held on and wouldn’t return it. “Mo Zi, don’t make a fuss.”
Mo Zi simply couldn’t believe she heard such words. “Yuan Cheng, do you think I’m a three-year-old child?” Don’t make a fuss? Ha! “That’s my thing.” Both hands reached out.
“Let me look at it.” Yuan Cheng used his arm to block her, then with his other hand grasped hers. “Be good. I’ll return it to you after I finish reading.”
He held her hand and wouldn’t let her pull it away. After repeating this several times, the person opposite quieted down. He focused more intently on that booklet. Different from when he focused before, his palm was full, was warm, making him involuntarily pleased.
“We’ve arrived.” The carriage shook once and stopped moving.
Yuan Cheng had just finished reading. He closed the booklet, raised his eyes, and saw the last trace of peach-pink about to disappear from Mo Zi’s cheeks.
Raising his eyebrows, smiling warmly, he asked: “Mo Zi, are you blushing?”
But Mo Zi seemed to have already adjusted her mindset. Glibly, she smiled and said: “Yes. Just now I used force trying to snatch the booklet from you. Never mind blushing—I’m even sweating. That booklet is Ge Qiu’s customer reception records. What’s so interesting about it? Could it be you particularly like one of them and want to support her?”
Yuan Cheng naturally knew she was joking. Just as he was about to follow along and tease a couple sentences, he heard shouting from outside the carriage.
Mo Zi’s expression also became serious as she quickly jumped out of the carriage.