The flow of pedestrians gradually returned to normal, and Fu Xi Yan also calmed down from his earlier fright. The Wind Chime his uncle had given him was on his person, yet it had issued no warning. That meant the other party had only intended to probe him, not kill him. His own excessive reaction had instead exposed his panic and lack of confidence.
He could not be blamed entirely.
He had neglected martial arts for years. Although he had finally gained true qi, his repertoire of techniques was still stuck at what he had learned before the age of ten. Against someone at a lower realm, he could bluff his way through. Against someone stronger, he feared that even throwing down his weapons and surrendering would not be quick and efficient enough.
The two walked to the roadside and found a stone where they could rest.
Zhou Zhong Xin quietly asked whether they should seek refuge at the Luoyang Prefectural Yamen.
Ever since the emperor ordered the capital moved, the rank of Luoyang’s chief administrator had risen accordingly. The incumbent had closed his eyes as a fourth-rank prefect and opened them to find a blessing dropped from Heaven: he had become the third-rank Prefect of Luoyang.
Yet the very thing that brought success could also bring ruin. When one family had a daughter, a hundred families came courting; how much more fiercely would people compete over an official post with limitless prospects? The position had naturally attracted contenders from every side. Only because too many factions were fighting over it and had reached a temporary stalemate had the current Prefect of Luoyang gained a brief chance to breathe. Once the aristocratic families decided the victor, his term in office would come to an end.
Fu Xuan had deliberately told them this before they left Haojing.
He had also instructed that, in the most desperate circumstances, they could pay this precariously positioned Prefect of Luoyang a visit. Count Yongfeng’s Estate might not be able to preserve his current office, but with a little maneuvering, arranging his transfer to another respectable post would not be difficult.
Fu Xi Yan shook his head.
An expert more powerful than Chu Guang was not someone a local prefect could handle. Going there recklessly might only implicate everyone in the yamen.
“He already came once today,” Fu Xi Yan said. “He probably won’t return.”
Zhou Zhong Xin had great confidence in his judgment and did not insist.
“But just in case…” Fu Xi Yan caught hold of him and said solemnly, “I mean, if that person does come back, we run in separate directions.”
Zhou Zhong Xin’s expression changed, and he was about to object when Fu Xi Yan cut him off decisively. “If I run alone, I may still have a chance. If you stay beside me and he uses you to threaten me, then I’ll have no options left.”
Apart from valuing Zhou Zhong Xin’s life, Fu Xi Yan also possessed a trace of blind faith in his unusual constitution. Tang Gong’s attack had failed to harm him, proving that his defensive ability far exceeded what his cultivation realm suggested.
The reason remained unknown, but it was his hidden card and his talisman of protection. When his life was truly at stake, it might save him.
Zhou Zhong Xin said emotionally, “Young Master, you needn’t worry about me! Your safety comes first!”
Fu Xi Yan shook his head. “Don’t make me choose between my life and my conscience. That’s too cruel.” Not everyone’s humanity could withstand being put to the test, and people were better off not taking that risk.
Zhou Zhong Xin still wanted to argue, but Fu Xi Yan stopped him with a look and patted his shoulder. “This is only a contingency plan. It may never happen. Besides, Qixi passed ages ago. Why are you still acting out the Cowherd and Weaver Girl here?”
Had Zhou Geng Geng accompanied him today, he probably would not have obeyed no matter how much Fu Xi Yan argued. Zhou Zhong Xin, however, was loyal by both name and nature. After struggling with himself for a while, he finally agreed.
For the rest of the journey, Zhou Zhong Xin fully immersed himself in a scene titled Some Treacherous Commoner Means to Harm Us. He remained on high alert the entire way, only relaxing slightly once the Brocade Guard encampment came into view.
And it was precisely at the moment he relaxed—
A narrow sword shot straight toward the back of Fu Xi Yan’s head. At the same time, the Wind Chime inside his robes began vibrating frantically. This was the first time the spiritual weapon’s warning had come half a beat later than the attacker’s strike.
The newcomer was clearly more powerful than Tang Gong!
Fortunately, the road offered no cover, so the two sides had begun with some distance between them. Fu Xi Yan barely managed to twist aside and evade the blade.
Zhou Zhong Xin attempted to fly over and assist him, but Fu Xi Yan used the remaining momentum from his turn to kick off the ground and race back toward the marketplace.
The move caught not only Zhou Zhong Xin by surprise, but even made the assassin pause for a fraction of a second.
The assassin clearly did not take the unexpected development seriously. With a sweep of his sword, true qi rained down densely upon Zhou Zhong Xin. Without looking back, he then followed Fu Xi Yan’s escape route and gave chase.
Zhou Zhong Xin was delayed for a moment. By the time he could pursue them, both figures had already disappeared beyond the horizon.
Only then did he remember what he had promised earlier. He turned and ran toward the Brocade Guard encampment.
Fu Xi Yan had not chosen to double back solely out of self-sacrifice or to draw the assassin away from Zhou Zhong Xin. More importantly, as far as he knew, the strongest expert in the Brocade Guard encampment was Chu Guang—and Chu Guang’s martial arts definitely could not save him.
As the assassin drew closer, Fu Xi Yan was forced to run in a zigzag, buying himself a little time. Even so, the distance between them continued to shrink.
Just as the assassin thrust his sword again, a figure suddenly appeared between them and, without saying a word, hurled out a handful of Thunderclap Bombs.
The explosives burst with a series of thunderous booms. Even civilians more than a hundred feet away jumped in fright, but the assassin’s sword did not pause. Relying on the true qi shielding his body, he charged directly through the thick smoke, and the blade did not lose even a fraction of its momentum.
Fu Xi Yan once again resorted to his turtle-shell defense, gathering all his true qi across his back. This time, however, he had little confidence. Tang Gong, after all, had not been holding a weapon.
Just as the sword tip was about to touch his back, there came a soft puff, and another figure placed himself between Fu Xi Yan and the blade. The red sword pierced straight through his body, producing a sizzling sound as though his flesh were being scorched.
The man crouched halfway to the ground. Although he was not actually leaning against Fu Xi Yan’s back, Fu Xi Yan felt as though an enormous weight were pressing upon him, leaving him almost unable to breathe.
“Go!”
The young man who had thrown the Thunderclap Bombs shoved him. “Get to Xiangyun Cloth Shop!”
Fu Xi Yan stumbled several steps forward, staggering and swaying, his heart filled with bitter discomfort. He had told Zhou Zhong Xin not to sacrifice himself, yet now two complete strangers had risked their lives to save him—and he could not even turn around.
Turning back would waste everything they had done for him.
At this point, he could completely rule out the possibility that the terrifying assassin had been sent by Pei Yuan Jin. Not only had that possibility been eliminated, but Pei Yuan Jin had now become his sole lifeline.
But…
But…
But where the hell was Xiangyun Cloth Shop?!
Fu Xi Yan ran with all his strength. He had no idea how long or how far he had gone. His vision was awash in blood-red, and then, amid that overwhelming crimson, an auspicious cloud bearing rain seemed to drift gently into view.
The shop attendant stared in astonishment as a disheveled fatty charged toward him with his hair flying loose. He was just about to raise a bolt of cloth as a shield when the man stopped on his own.
Fu Xi Yan had no idea how wretched he currently looked. Leaning against the doorpost, he said urgently, “I need to see your Young Palace Master!”
The attendant frowned. “Who are you?”
“I’m your Young Palace Master’s friend.”
The attendant clearly did not believe that his elegant, handsome Young Palace Master could have such a disreputable-looking friend. Still, the palace rules were strict, so he agreed to ask. “Wait here.”
“There’s no time!” The thought of the blood running along that sword made Fu Xi Yan increasingly frantic. “Take me to him! I—I—I’m your Young Palace Master’s wife!”
The force of that shout was honestly no weaker than the explosion of a Thunderclap Bomb.
The entire street was left dizzy from the blast.
Amid the silence, a second-floor window of the cloth shop suddenly creaked open halfway, revealing half of a handsome, cold face.
Looking up at him, Fu Xi Yan nearly burst into tears of relief. “Great One, save me!”
A curious voice behind him asked, “Who else needs saving?”
“Save…” The voice sounded extremely familiar. Fu Xi Yan froze and turned around. The young man who had only moments ago bid him what appeared to be a final farewell and ordered him to “go to Xiangyun Cloth Shop” was standing there whole and unharmed, looking at him curiously.
Only then did Fu Xi Yan’s heart begin pounding wildly with delayed fear. “You’re all right?”
The young man grinned, revealing a row of white teeth. “If I can’t beat him, can’t I run? It’s not like I don’t have legs!”
Fu Xi Yan, who had nearly failed to outrun the assassin: “…”
He looked behind the young man. “Where is your companion?”
“Recovering from his injuries. If he’s hurt, shouldn’t he rest? It’s not like he’s stupid.”
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
For some reason, he suddenly felt as though he had neither legs nor a brain.
The young man asked, “There’s no one else you need saved, right? Since nothing else is wrong, I’ll head off too.”
“I haven’t yet asked your honorable name.” This was the man who had saved his life. Great gratitude might need no words, but the gift absolutely had to be substantial. After the wild swing between grief and joy, Fu Xi Yan quickly adjusted his emotions, tore off the jade fish pendant that had made the pawnshop keeper salivate, and stuffed it into the young man’s hand. “Keep this for now. Once I shake some money out of that easy mark, I’ll take the two of you shopping properly.”
The young man had served in the Lightning Division for so long, yet this was the first gratuity he had ever received. He stood there at a loss, only for a cold warning to sound from above their heads.
“Xiao Sang.”
The young man called Xiao Sang ducked his head and darted inside, vanishing immediately.
Having grown accustomed to the Lightning Division appearing and disappearing like ghosts, Fu Xi Yan could not help feeling envious. The stealth abilities of Prince of Lanling and Jing Ke truly were useful when brought into the real world.
Elio’s Notes: Prince of Lanling and Jing Ke are assassin-type characters in Honor of Kings associated with stealth and surprise attacks.
The benefactor who had carried out the rescue was gone, but the benefactor who had issued the order was still upstairs. Fu Xi Yan wondered whether he should shout his thanks, only to look up and discover that the window had already closed.
Assuming he was unwelcome, Fu Xi Yan sighed and decided to return with a gift another day. Just then, another attendant rushed downstairs and bowed respectfully. “The Young Palace Master invites you upstairs.”
The cloth shop had a square layout surrounding an open courtyard, which had been turned into a garden. Viewed from the second floor, it possessed a certain charm.
Following the stairs upward, Fu Xi Yan had assumed he would see Pei Yuan Jin immediately. He had already found the tune to A Grateful Heart inside his head. Instead, the attendant led him into a room containing a bathtub, with a clean set of robes placed beside it.
…
Even when the Third Prince summoned him, Fu Xi Yan had never received the privilege of bathing and changing first. Unexpectedly, he was enjoying it here.
After closing the door, Fu Xi Yan deliberately examined himself in the mirror. He truly was not fit to be seen, so he resigned himself to scrubbing clean.
Everything was satisfactory except for the clothes, which were black from top to bottom and completely unlike his usual style. An absurd thought even occurred to him: could Pei Yuan Jin have heard him announce that he was the man’s wife and decided they should wear matching outfits?
The moment the thought formed, every hair on his body stood upright. Fu Xi Yan shook his head and drove the terrifying fantasy away.
When he opened the door, the attendant was still waiting outside and, with great attention to the customer experience, asked whether everything was to his satisfaction.
Since the attendant asked sincerely, Fu Xi Yan sincerely raised the issue of the color.
The attendant looked confused. “Do you not usually wear black?”
Fu Xi Yan genuinely did not. His skin was fair, and brighter colors made him look healthier.
The attendant clearly had strong convictions concerning fashion and desperately wished to correct Fu Xi Yan’s taste. “Black makes you look slimmer.”
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
Thank you, but please don’t conduct another customer survey. You’re likely to receive a poor rating.
The attendant led him to eat.
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
Thank you again, but why did this process feel so much like entering a detention center? They bathed him, changed his clothes, and fed him. If someone next arranged a study session and made him sing A Grateful Heart, the experience would be complete.
After hurriedly shoveling down a few mouthfuls, he was escorted to the next location.
Fu Xi Yan wondered whether imperial consorts felt the same way when summoned to meet the emperor: Her attendants help her rise, delicate and weak; only after countless calls does she finally appear. His own “weakness” was primarily psychological. How long was this maddeningly fussy procedure going to continue? Zhong Xin and Geng Geng were still waiting for him to return and confirm that he was safe!
Elio’s Notes: Fu Xi Yan adapts famous lines from Bai Ju Yi’s Song of Everlasting Sorrow, originally describing the celebrated beauty Yang Yu Huan.
Fortunately, Pei Yuan Jin was sitting inside the next room.
Fu Xi Yan had already rehearsed his words of gratitude several times in his head. When he finally poured them out, they emerged in one uninterrupted flow, with the satisfying sincerity of emotions naturally spilling forth once they had grown deep enough.
Pei Yuan Jin, however, remained completely absorbed in the account book in his hands. He appeared entirely uninterested in Fu Xi Yan’s passionate speech and did not spare him so much as a glance.
Fu Xi Yan was not dissatisfied in the slightest.
The man had saved his life. Who cared whether the enthusiasm was mutual?
Fu Xi Yan cleared his throat. “If Young Palace Master Pei has nothing else for me, I’ll take my leave.”
Pei Yuan Jin suddenly looked up. “How good are you at arithmetic?”
He was asking a science student about arithmetic? Fu Xi Yan laughed inwardly, then answered with perfect composure, “I know absolutely nothing.”
He had not failed to notice that, besides the ledger Pei Yuan Jin was holding, thick stacks of account books also surrounded his feet, covered the tea table, and filled the space beneath the desk. Fu Xi Yan certainly wanted to repay the favor, but this repayment might consume half his life. His elderly father was still waiting at home for him to return and perform his filial duties.
Pei Yuan Jin tossed aside the account book, stood, and removed a thick stack of volumes from the bookshelf before handing them to him.
A terrible premonition rose in Fu Xi Yan’s heart. He accepted them and looked down—
The Nine Chapters on the Mathematical Art, The Sea Island Mathematical Manual, The Computational Canon of the Five Classics, Zhui Shu…
Elio’s Notes: Zhui Shu was a renowned mathematical work by Zu Chong Zhi and Zu Geng Zhi. The original text has been lost, and its English title varies, so the title is retained in romanization here.
Was he expected to learn and immediately put the knowledge to use?
What could one say? The Young Palace Master truly left nothing uncalculated.
Fu Xi Yan made one last attempt to struggle free. “I’m currently staying in the Brocade Guard encampment, where there are rules concerning entry and departure. Besides, news of this attack must already have reached them. I ought to return and let everyone know I’m safe.”
Pei Yuan Jin did not try to persuade him. He simply asked with remarkable calm, “What if the killer is waiting outside for you?”
Fu Xi Yan had considered the possibility, but remaining here was not necessarily safe either. He had not forgotten the purpose of the Harmonized Yang Pills. “Zhong Xin must have gone back for reinforcements. Commander Chu may already be on his way to meet me.”
“He cannot save you.”
After leaving Willowwood Manor, reports concerning Fu Xi Yan had continued arriving on Pei Yuan Jin’s desk. As a result, he now understood both the Fu and Chu families thoroughly.
Northern Zhou was unlike Southern Yu.
Southern Yu revered the mighty Spirit Sect as its state religion and had never lacked experts under its command.
The Northern Zhou court, by contrast, was desperately short of such people. Vajra experts like Fu Xuan and Chu Guang would be unremarkable if placed in the wider jianghu. Naturally, they were no match for the assassin who had appeared today.
Seeing Fu Xi Yan hesitate, Pei Yuan Jin made the decision for him. “Have Xiao Sang deliver a letter telling them you are safe.”
Pei Yuan Jin had not only saved his life but was willing to continue protecting him. Fu Xi Yan could not bring himself to refuse such goodwill. He picked up a brush and shakily wrote a letter reporting his safety.
Pei Yuan Jin frowned at the crooked characters. Fu Xi Yan also felt that the effect was lacking. “It would be even better with a little blood.”
In the letter, he claimed that someone had attempted to assassinate him and that he had taken refuge inside Xiangyun Cloth Shop at the critical moment. Unfortunately, he had sustained grave injuries and was now hovering between life and death, kept alive only by ginseng.
Fu Xi Yan explained, “I’m mainly afraid Chu Guang will order me to crawl back even if crawling is all I can do.” His impression of the Chu uncle and nephew remained firmly rooted in the period when they had worked him like a slave, so he inevitably assumed the worst.
Pei Yuan Jin did not understand the way people in the imperial court communicated, nor did he wish to. With a wave, he summoned Xiao Sang and ordered him to deliver the letter.
Since Fu Xi Yan had been kept there, he naturally had to shoulder the work that came with staying.
Pei Yuan Jin ordered candles lit throughout the room until the interior was even brighter than the sunset glowing outside.
Resigned to his fate, Fu Xi Yan picked up The Nine Chapters on the Mathematical Art and opened it. After reading no more than the preface, he relived the terror of sitting in a classroom among seven- and eight-year-old children while being dominated by the teacher. After finishing all seven, eight, or nine of these books, he might still fail to learn ancient arithmetic, but he would certainly forget modern mathematics.
Pressing both hands against the book, Fu Xi Yan squeezed an expression of incredulous ecstasy onto his round face. “I only opened one page. Guess what happened? Sudden enlightenment poured straight through me. I understand everything now!”
Pei Yuan Jin: “…”
Pei Yuan Jin handed him an account book. Fu Xi Yan examined it and found that it recorded the cloth shop’s daily transactions. Entering referred to income, while submitted referred to expenses. The calculations themselves were not difficult, but reading traditional numerals arranged in vertical columns was mentally exhausting.
The sheer volume of work left Fu Xi Yan afraid to conceal his ability. He picked up paper and brush and converted the figures into Arabic numerals, calculating the smaller amounts mentally and writing out the larger ones.
Pei Yuan Jin had originally intended to hand him an abacus. Seeing Fu Xi Yan calculate without even raising his head, he decided not to disturb him.
He sat beside the window and gazed at the sinking sun, his entire body radiating the ease of someone who had transcended the troubles of the mortal world.
A few mosquitoes were still flying at this time of year. For some inexplicable reason, although a perfectly living person sat beside the window, they abandoned the nearer target and buzzed all the way over to Fu Xi Yan.
Fu Xi Yan scratched one spot and swatted at another, thoroughly tormented by them. Suddenly, the fresh scent of mint reached his nose. He looked up and discovered a dark-green bead resting atop the endless stacks of account books. It resembled neither jade nor stone.
After smelling it for a while, he detected a faint sweetness of osmanthus mingled with the mint.
Delighted, he picked up the bead. This truly was a pillow arriving just as he began to feel sleepy. He already planned to open a shop selling soap but had worried that the product range would be too limited. Adding perfumes and scented beads would broaden it considerably.
He was just about to ask a question when the person beside the window vanished in the blink of an eye.
Not long after Pei Yuan Jin left, Zhong Xin and Geng Geng arrived with Chu Shao Yang to visit the patient.
Fu Xi Yan had climbed into bed ahead of time and wrapped himself in a thick quilt. He received them with his “breath hanging by a thread.”
Chu Shao Yang could not even be bothered to expose such clumsy acting. He asked directly, “You wish to stay here?”
Fu Xi Yan rolled his eyes upward, looking as though his final breath could fail at any moment. “I have no choice. I can’t move.”
After learning that Fu Xi Yan was at Xiangyun Cloth Shop, Chu Shao Yang had briefly wondered about his connection to the Immortal Treasury Palace. However, ever since Chu Guang explicitly told him there was no need to kill Fu Xi Yan, Chu Shao Yang had stopped paying as much attention to him and soon dismissed the matter.
“How many days do you intend to stay?”
Fu Xi Yan quickly held up one hand.
“Five days?”
Fu Xi Yan turned the hand over and displayed it again.
Chu Shao Yang was speechless. “Ten days, then. Since you cannot get out of bed, leave the two of them here to care for you. If anything else happens, they can send someone to find me at the encampment. I’ll visit the Luoyang Prefectural Yamen shortly. An incident this serious occurred inside the city, so the local authorities must be informed.”
His shift from arrogance to courtesy was so drastic that Fu Xi Yan could not help wondering whether some benevolent soul had possessed him. More likely, Zhang Da Shan’s downfall had shown Chu Shao Yang that Fu Xi Yan was not a lump of dough he could knead however he pleased, so he had become more cautious.
Pei Yuan Jin was racing through the countryside.
His speed was so great that the wind dissipated before it could even gather in his wake.
Ahead of him was a hemp-gray figure moving at the same pace. The man had originally worn a rounded futou cap, but it had long since been blown away to parts unknown.
Elio’s Notes: A futou was a traditional form of Chinese headwear worn by men and officials, with its shape varying across different periods.
One pursued while the other fled. In the blink of an eye, they left Luoyang and continued south.
The ordinary people along the road noticed nothing. Only martial artists at the early Bone Forging Stage or above could vaguely sense two experts brushing past them, and each broke into a cold sweat. With movement techniques like those, if either man had harbored malicious intentions, none of them would have survived.
That was not entirely true.
By this point, Pei Yuan Jin and the hemp-gray figure had already run for a considerable distance. Every function of their bodies had entered a subtle state of balance. Had they been standing still and suddenly launched an attack, they would not have achieved the same effect.
They ran from dusk into darkness. The hemp-gray figure attempted to use the terrain to shake off his pursuer, yet whenever he entered mountains or forests, the distance between them narrowed instead. More terrifyingly, he could clearly feel his stamina approaching its limit, while Pei Yuan Jin still appeared to possess strength in reserve.
“Young Palace Master Pei!”
The moment he spoke, Pei Yuan Jin seized the opening and suddenly accelerated. The distance between them instantly shrank to less than twenty feet.
The hemp-gray figure gritted his teeth, abruptly turned, gathered all his true qi into his palm, and slowly pushed it forward.
That palm seemed to contain the vast momentum of mountains, rivers, and ten thousand miles of land.
It was not fast, but its reach was immense.
Pei Yuan Jin’s body abruptly contracted. His tall, imposing frame seemed to shrink into a silhouette no larger than a bronze mirror as he drove through the enormous pressure of the palm strike with unstoppable force.
The hemp-gray figure was shocked. It was too late to change his technique, so he could only extend his palm and meet Pei Yuan Jin head-on.
Suddenly, fiery-red sword light flashed.
A narrow crimson blade swept through the sky like a scarlet rainbow, curved around the outstretched palm, and struck the man’s throat.
Clang.
A thin layer of transparent scales covered his neck.
Golden-Silk Fish-Scale Armor!
Pei Yuan Jin said in a low voice, “Lord Qilin.”
Lord Qilin was about to answer when a flame suddenly ignited at the sword’s tip. Magma seemed to erupt from beneath the nine layers of the earth, burning through the scales and opening a hole in his throat.
Lord Qilin’s eyes widened. He had clearly never imagined that Pei Yuan Jin would kill him so simply and decisively without asking even one question. Nor had he expected that a lifetime spent rampaging unchecked would end unexpectedly on this night.
Pei Yuan Jin indifferently flourished his sword. The blade transformed back into a hairpin, which he inserted into his topknot before walking away with his hands clasped behind his back.
By the time Pei Yuan Jin returned, dawn had already broken. Vendors called out along the streets, and nothing suggested that a life-and-death battle had taken place there the previous day.
The cloth shop had not yet opened, but the second-floor window remained slightly ajar.
Pei Yuan Jin leaped into the room. The person sitting at the desk and examining the accounts had already changed to Yu Su Huan.
Smiling, she flipped through the ledger. “The Young Palace Master truly has an eye for talent. I do not know how Fu Xi Yan managed it, but he organized the accounts with remarkable speed and complete accuracy.”
Utterly exhausted, Pei Yuan Jin sat with his eyes closed and did not explain that he had only been searching for an excuse to keep Fu Xi Yan there.
Seeing this, Yu Su Huan tactfully rose and crept toward the door.
Just as she reached it, Pei Yuan Jin suddenly spoke. “The attacker was Lord Qilin of the City of Ten Thousand Beasts. He imitated the Red Dragon King when he attacked the fatty. I killed him.”
Everyone knew that the Red Dragon King was Pei Yuan Jin’s signature weapon.
Thinking of the upheaval throughout the martial world caused by the theft of the Harmonized Yang Pills, Yu Su Huan sighed inwardly. Then she turned and said with a soft laugh, “That is good.”
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