Chapter 74: Clearing Skies Chapter 53: How Did You Find Out?

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Protagonist:

Shaowei

Liu Qi

The Nan Commandery Governor, while having his concubines remove his rain-soaked outer robe, spoke with a tone of disdain: "This scoundrel has no father, no mother, no kin—no one knows which pile of corpses he crawled out of. He caught the good fortune of a settled world and kept his life, relying on a cruel heart and vicious methods, plus some luck, to become the leader of the Brocade Guard..."

"As for ability, he does have some. By rights, a man of worth shouldn't be judged by his origins; my own family, going back two generations, were also cake sellers!" The Governor sat on the edge of the bed: "But this man is shameless and utterly lacking in moral character. He takes public revenge for private grudges, his moods are unpredictable, and in private he has many dark and depraved habits."

The concubine brought a cup of hot tea. The Governor took it and held it in his hand, his voice dropping lower: "That's just for outsiders. It's said his original wife was tortured to death by him, and the subsequent concubine, pregnant for several months, hanged herself—presumably she couldn't endure the torment..."

The beautiful concubine who had just knelt beside the Governor turned pale at these words. She didn't even bother to massage his shoulders anymore, and asked nervously: "Then wouldn't his current wives and concubines also suffer his abuse?"

But the Governor coldly snorted: "What wives and concubines are there now!"

"Early on, he was secretly injured by a concubine while sleeping. The injuries were severe, and he nearly lost half his life. Since then, he seems to have been unable to... be with women. Otherwise, why would he avoid women entirely and still have no children or descendants to this day?"

Saying this, the Governor felt both vindicated and rueful: "I heard the concubine who hurt him wasn't an outsider, but the maidservant of the concubine who hanged herself. Apparently avenging her mistress—she had quite some spirit and guts."

"Pity she couldn't kill that villain..." The concubine gritted her teeth slightly, her brow furrowing again: "Then what happened to her?"

The Governor shook his head: "I don't know the specifics, but I have heard a follow-up rumor... It's said that the concubine dared to act because she had some backing—apparently she was pregnant at the time. Zhu Zhi was injured at the root, and out of consideration for the only flesh and blood in her womb, they temporarily didn't kill her, apparently planning to wait until she safely gave birth before acting... But when that concubine was about to give birth, she disappeared."

Hearing this, the concubine's spirits suddenly lifted, her eyes shining: "She escaped?"

The Governor shook his head again: "That's an unsolved matter. No one knows if she escaped or died, nor where the child in her womb is... But I only heard this from a letter from a colleague in the Capital. As for the truth, I'm afraid only Zhu Zhi himself knows."

The concubine couldn't help but feel regret and surprise. It turned out that the Head of Household and those serious officials in the Capital actually discussed such things in their private letters.

The Governor was completely unaware that his image among his colleagues had changed, still immersed in his narration. He stroked his beard with some satisfaction: "These rumors may be true or false, but it's true that this scoundrel's line is cut off—it's heavenly retribution."

The concubine didn't think it was heavenly will. It was clearly that nameless concubine using her life as a blade to carve out this vent of resentment.

If that concubine and that child were lucky enough to still be alive, they must absolutely not be found.

The Governor's concubine kept thinking of that nameless concubine in her heart, while the Governor had already reduced it all to a political summary: "Perhaps precisely because he has no children, no kin, and no one, His Majesty is willing to keep using him."

The Brocade Guard was founded by the Ren Emperor and does mostly bloody work. And Zhu Zhi has no kin to support him, no descendants to cultivate. Even holding the Emperor's token, he cannot weave a tight feather-net or a lasting foundation.

"Don't look at how imposing he is now." The Governor only now dared to spit: "The day His Majesty discards him and won't use him anymore, he'll die and not even know how."

The rain outside the window was clamorous, drowning out the curses inside the house.

Shaowei hurried back, running fast and slow, but still got half-rained on.

Though she stubbornly held up two half-withered lotus leaves she'd plucked along the way, it was all in vain. By the time she got home, she was still a fresh drowned chicken.

By innate talent, Zhan Zhan, who was originally more suited to becoming a drowned chicken, was dry and intact. Long before the rain was about to fall, it had plunged into Shaowei's collar. As Shaowei ran, it was like a cradle, the rain like a lullaby, and Zhan Zhan even slept comfortably and warmly. When Shaowei pulled it out, it opened its hazy eyes, its voice carrying a hint of reluctant praise: "So fast!"

Shaowei threw the bird onto the bed, kicked off her tiger shoes, took off her wet clothes, and rubbed her hair dry with a cotton towel. Suddenly thinking of something, with her hair standing on end and bare feet, she went to Jiang Fu's house.

Shaowei slipped in on tiptoe, stepping lightly and crouching, creeping to Jiang Fu's bedside. In the dim light she saw Jiang Fu sleeping peacefully, still breathing, and only then felt reassured enough to go back to sleep.

The sky on rainy days always brightens later, and it's easy to oversleep.

When Shaowei woke up, she didn't know what hour it was, only hearing the rain still going hualalala.

She got dressed and went out of the house, only to see Jiang Fu standing in front of the hall, looking up at the rainy sky.

Jiang Fu's figure and bones were well-proportioned and smooth, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted. At this moment, his black hair was simply gathered behind his head, tied with a green ribbon, hanging loose and flowing. He wore a wide green robe, standing before the autumn wind and rain. Just looking at this back view, he was already very beautiful and charming.

She stood there gazing at the clouds surging on the horizon, not knowing how long she had stood. At this moment, a domineering hand suddenly grabbed her right arm from behind and forcibly pulled her back into the hall.

Jiang Fu twisted his sore shoulder and arm, clicked his tongue, and complained: "How can someone oversleep themselves and then get grumpy about getting up?"

Shaowei had already sat cross-legged at the small table, poured a bowl of tea that still had residual warmth, and also complained: "It's you whose clothes are thin, blown by the wind and soaked by the rain. Clearly not sick but looking for sickness. Don't pass your sickness to me later."

Jiang Fu raised his eyebrows in realization: "Is it because the Double Ninth is approaching, the Yin Gate is wide open, and I, as your teacher, might fall ill and invite yin evil into my body, so that some wandering ghost or fierce demon takes advantage to steal my life?"

Shaowei just gulped her tea and ignored him. Then she went to wash up with water, and with a wet face, ran to the stove house to find leftover rice.

Looking at that busy, bustling, lively little ghost, Jiang Fu always had a smile on his face.

After Shaowei filled her belly and came out of the stove house, she saw Jiang Fu standing again outside the hall in the rain curtain.

Sensing the little ghost's gaze, Jiang Fu turned his head, pinched the cloak tied on his shoulder with one hand, and made a "here" gesture. His eyes seemed to say: Since I've put on clothes, you can't pull and scold me anymore.

Shaowei reluctantly raised her chin in satisfaction and walked over.

Jiang Fu looked back at the horizon and asked casually, as if muttering: "How many days until the Double Ninth? Is it almost here?"

Shaowei didn't know what she was looking at. While staring at the dark clouds in the sky along with her, she answered: "Four days from now."

Jiang Fu continued muttering: "Still that long?"

Shaowei turned her head to look at her: "Do you have something urgent?"

Jiang Fu also turned her head, looked at her, but smiled mysteriously: "This can't be told to you."

Shaowei rolled her eyes. She said with her mouth, "I might not even want to hear it," but in her heart she couldn't help but speculate wildly. And the wildest thought was—she couldn't be at the end of her lifespan, trying to die before the Double Ninth, could she?

Though such matters were serious and heavy, they shouldn't be used to mysteriously whet one's appetite... But Jiang Fu had always been a carefree person, and had more than once claimed to like the path of washing one's neck and awaiting execution. What couldn't a person like that do?

Shaowei kept this thought in her heart. Looking at this gloomy rainy day, she felt it was doubly unlucky.

But that night Jiang Fu coughed incessantly, making Shaowei toss and turn unable to sleep. Even the next morning, she couldn't calm her mind during static sitting.

Jiang Fu insisted it was just a minor ailment, but Shaowei had a firm attitude. She made sure Jiang Fu drank the medicine she prepared and decocted, short of force-feeding her.

Jiang Fu drank a bowl of bitter soup morning and evening each day. Until the day before the Double Ninth, the night coughing finally disappeared.

On the day of the Double Ninth, Shaowei woke up in the early morning. She pushed open the window and saw that the sky had finally cleared. The ominous and uneasy feeling of dark clouds hanging overhead had mostly dissipated.

Shaowei secretly sighed in relief. It turned out to be another case of needless suspicion and a false alarm.

Feeling much lighter in mood, Shaowei washed up, swept the floor, and sat in static sitting, restoring order once again.

After static sitting was finished, Mo Li's voice calling for dinner came from the courtyard. Shaowei responded. Passing by Jiang Fu's house, she pushed the door open a little, but saw Jiang Fu still asleep, not yet up to comb her hair.

Always having these false alarms come and go, Shaowei was unwilling to easily startle herself and appear unsettled. She only thought Jiang Fu was sleepy from taking medicine recently. So she just held onto the door and shouted: "The meal is cooked. It's time to get up!"

But the figure lying on the bed had no reaction at all.

Shaowei immediately pushed open the door and entered, calling out two more times, but Jiang Fu remained with his eyes tightly closed, motionless.

A cool breeze blew in from outside the room, and Shaowei suddenly felt a chill, even sensing a long-lost fear; she tried to reach out to probe Jiang Fu's breath, but felt not the slightest fluctuation of Qi.

Shaowei's face had paled by three parts; her fingers moved hastily downward to touch and press Jiang Fu's neck pulse, but just as her hand entered that still-warm neck, Jiang Fu's neck shrank, tickled into opening his eyes and laughing, unable to keep up the pretense any longer.

Shaowei widened her eyes: "You—!"

Her emotions rose and fell so greatly she could not finish her words, only pouncing onto the bed, using both hands to tickle Jiang Fu's neck and armpit flesh; Jiang Fu struggled, laughing until tears came out: "Alright, alright, it's just that you slept a little longer, look at how frightened you are, like a grasshopper."

Shaowei stopped her hand; Jiang Fu sat up, arranging his disheveled hair and clothes, only to see that the little imp's eyes actually held a glimmer of tears.

Seeing her expression, Shaowei, ashamed and angry, stormed forward to question: "Slept until now, are you a pig!"

This seemed to be the harshest thing she could think of at the moment.

Jiang Fu narrowed his eyes in a smile, extending one hand to pinch the girl's rosy red nose tip: "Yes, I am a pig; being a pig is good, being a pig is wonderful, eat your fill and sleep, oink oink."

As she spoke to the end, she opened her mouth and wrinkled her nose, truly oinking like a pig twice; Shaowei, caught off guard, broke into laughter, and because it came too suddenly she tried hard to suppress it, but her effort backfired and she let out a muffled oink, resembling a pig's oink by fifty percent.

Shaowei's face turned red; she hastily interrupted Jiang Fu's teasing and commanded: "You also know a pig must eat its fill before sleeping; hurry up and get up to eat breakfast!"

Saying this, she dragged Jiang Fu off the bed.

"No hurry, no hurry, comb hair first." Jiang Fu said while pushing open the window and shouting to Mo Li, telling him not to wait and to eat first on his own.

Jiang Fu pressed both hands on Shaowei's shoulders, pressing her to sit on the bamboo couch by the window for dressing, facing that small dressing table.

Shaowei came to her senses, raising her hand to press on top of her head, frowning as she turned back, her large eyes filled with inquiry.

Jiang Fu had already sat down behind her, laughing as she shook the peach wood comb in her hand: "Have your master comb your hair once; you did promise this."

Shaowei looked at Jiang Fu for a while, not knowing what she was thinking, then turned her head back; before even starting, she urged: "Then comb quickly, I'm starving!"

"Combing a woman's hair is delicate work; have more patience!" Jiang Fu's tone held undisguised glee at getting her way; she held the comb in one hand and supported a heavy lock of black hair with the other, and just after the first stroke, she immediately let out a satisfied chuckle.

Shaowei tilted her head slightly, looking from the bronze mirror, only to see Jiang Fu looking as if her whole face was about to laugh itself apart.

Just a head and a few strands of hair; what is there to comb?

Shaowei snorted disdainfully in her heart, intending to roll her eyes, but the corner of her mouth couldn't help but turn up slightly; the eye-roll, halfway through, betrayed her and turned into smiling eyes.

Jiang Fu's hair-combing skill was very proficient; Shaowei saw from the mirror her pair of hands turning over and over, as calm and smooth as a Daoist making hand signs, and the effect produced was as magical as casting a spell; very soon she made Shaowei's head look completely different.

Jiang Fu combed Shaowei's hair into a triangular bun.

First take a lock of hair from the top of the head, twist it into a bun, the pattern like auspicious clouds, the outline like an ingot; then tie the hair on both sides into two hanging buns, symmetrically hanging by both ears. The remaining hair at the back of the head hangs loose down the back; a strip of red satin was taken and tied in the middle, the ribbon and hair ends falling together to the waist.

The girl in the mirror seemed somewhat amazed, set off by this ingot hanging-ear bun becoming even more lively and spirited, as if she had just leaped from the osmanthus tree under the Moon Palace into the mortal world, a hanging-ear jade rabbit.

Jiang Fu held Shaowei's shoulders, turning her to face herself, exclaiming with amazement and complaint: "... So pretty! Your master said long ago she would comb your hair, but you refused, causing people to miss so many years of good times, simply a grave sin!"

Saying this, Jiang Fu couldn't help but reach out and pinch that plump, soft cheek to vent her dissatisfaction, then joyfully said: "Little imp, wait; there's one more thing!"

Although Jiang Fu was usually not very steady, she mostly gave an impression of being unrestrained and carefree; being this joyful and lively was still rare. Shaowei saw it in her eyes and forgot to blame Jiang Fu for taking an inch after being given a foot; therefore, when Jiang Fu took out a set of new clothes and new shoes for her to change into, although she seemed impatient, she also cooperated in changing.

The new clothes were a curved-hem robe, vermilion and white interwoven.

The new shoes were round-toed shoes, embroidered with embroidery thread.

Shaowei raised one foot and curled it up, looking at those colorful cloud new shoes, suddenly thinking of Jiang Fu's appearance on her birthday.

While Shaowei was lost in thought, Jiang Fu led her to sit on the edge of the bamboo couch.

Jiang Fu took the gold-painted brush, dipped a little vermilion, bent over before Shaowei, and seriously dabbed a dot of red between the girl's eyebrows and forehead, saying softly in her mouth: "Hope my disciple is clever and quick-witted, satisfied and happy, brave and gallant, splitting mountains and breaking seas."

The morning breeze outside the window swayed the morning light; light and shadow floated between heaven and earth; the gold-painted brush moved away from before her eyes; Shaowei, who had been quiet for a long time, raised her black eyes and finally asked out loud: "How did you know?"