Chapter 20: Twenty: It

Twenty: It’s Only Natural for a Gentleman to Know Archery

The marketplace.

Food falling from the sky caused a temporary traffic jam on the street.

In the sky, a giant falcon shot down like an arrow released from a bow, precisely diving into the feeding window, landing steadily on a man’s arm.

This raptor had a snowy white base, with black-brown speckles like ink dots streaking from its neck to its wingtips, its plumage dazzling, its beak sharp as a halberd, strikingly beautiful.

It tilted its head, its cold, sharp golden eyes reflecting the luxurious private chamber on the third floor of Yuanming Tower.

A disheveled man with excited eyes, as if just awakened, stood by the chamber window, his purple sleeping robe unfastened, his chest exposed.

He and the falcon on his arm scanned the room like wolves.

Besides the eight towering Kunlun slaves standing at the door, a row of trembling maids knelt on the floor inside.

“Alright, continue serving the dishes. Don’t delay my good deed.”

The maids shuffled out nervously to serve the food.

After speaking, the man in the sleeping robe grabbed a steaming dish and hurled it out the window, then teased the falcon again, casually turning to one of his falcon attendants: “Jueyun is hungry. Bring meat.”

The falcon keeper silently opened the brocade box he was carrying and took out the falcon’s food.

Just then, among the maids entering to serve food with heads bowed, a tall Hu woman with deep-set eyes and a high nose stepped forward with a tray of meat, stopping beside the table. The falcon perched on the man’s arm, scenting the meat, suddenly spread its wings as if to pounce.

“Ah!”

The tall Hu woman dropped the tray in fright; greasy shards of porcelain scattered across the floor, a few landing near the feet of the purple-robed man by the window.

The room fell suddenly silent.

The purple-robed man, who had been enthusiastically tossing food out the window, grew calm and slowly turned to look at the tall Hu woman, frantically kowtowing among the broken porcelain.

Jueyun leapt down from his arm; the starving beast was pecking at the meat on the ground.

The purple-robed man’s expression showed no anger; he raised a hand to signal, and the falcon keeper stepped forward, slipping a small black sack over Jueyun’s head to temporarily restrain it.

“Sigh.”

The purple-robed man sighed, looking at the Hu woman on the floor.

He squatted and hooked her chin with his finger.

He tilted his head, puzzled:

“Why did you knock over my food? Are you throwing a tantrum?”

“I… I dare not, Master, please spare my life, Master, please spare my life!”

“Really not a tantrum?”

“No, it was just my hand slipped—how would I dare throw a tantrum at you, Master, please spare my life.”

“Phew, good, not a tantrum. I hate it when people throw tantrums at me. My second brother loves doing it—cold silence, daily glares—I can’t stand it. My eldest brother is better; he never throws tantrums at me. He’s always calm and detached. Even when I do something wrong, he only teaches me—he never scolds me.”

“So, miss, since you didn’t throw a tantrum, let’s all get along nicely. No tantrums, alright?”

The Hu woman, voice trembling with tears: “Dare not… I dare not…”

“Shh, shh, don’t cry. There, there, stop crying. If you cry, you won’t look pretty. Though I think all you Hu people are ugly, isn’t it a virtue of our Celestial Empire to cherish beauty and pity the delicate?”

“Here, let this young master wipe your tears. Don’t cry.”

“Thank you, Master, thank you, Master!” The Hu woman kowtowed gratefully, tears streaming like pear blossoms in the rain.

“No need to thank me. But if you insist on thanking me, then feed my falcon. That meat of yours smells good—Jueyun is already drooling.”

“Yes, yes! I’ll feed the falcon for Master!” The Hu woman, as if granted pardon, immediately bent to pick up the meat from the floor.

The purple-robed man softly clicked his tongue and patted her head to stop her. “Wait—not that meat from the floor. Use mine.”

He reached out; the falcon keeper coldly handed him a box of mixed meat paste.

“This fresh wild game paste—Jueyun loves it. Its beak can pierce iron plates. Be careful. Help me feed it, won’t you?”

The tall Hu woman quickly reached to take it; the purple-robed man placed the dish in her hand, but gripped her wrist, holding her still.

Confused, she stared as he scooped a handful of the meat paste and began smearing it from her forehead down to her neck, especially focusing on her deep-set Hu eyes, coating them thickly with bloody paste.

The Hu woman froze, her exotic face now slick with sticky meat paste. After finishing, the purple-robed man casually picked up the dish, sprinkled the remaining paste over her dark hair, then tossed the dish aside.

He took a silk handkerchief offered by a Kunlun slave, wiped his hands slowly, and spoke a sentence that plunged the Hu woman into icy dread.

“Why are you still standing there? Run downstairs fast. My falcon hasn’t eaten in days—it loves eating human flesh, especially your face. Don’t wipe it off. Run now. If you can jump into the Butterfly Creek at the dock before it pounces, I’ll spare your eyes. Ugh, these cat-like green eyes are truly ugly.”

The room fell silent for a moment.

Then, as the falcon keeper, still holding the struggling bird, turned to stare at her coldly.

The Hu woman screamed, “Ah!” and bolted for the door, fleeing down the stairs.

Four Kunlun slaves chased after her, to prevent her from hiding inside the building instead of fleeing into the street.

The woman’s echoing screams seemed to flip a switch on the purple-robed man; one moment he had looked compassionate, the next he leapt up, roaring with laughter, his face flushed red, ecstatic as he ran to the window, looking down at the Hu woman desperately shoving through refugees as she fled, shouting:

“Run, run, faster! You love dancing the Hu Xuan, don’t you? Let’s see how strong your legs really are!”

…

“Little sister… Xie Ling, what are you doing?”

“Clearly, shopping.”

“I know that—but why are you buying swords and bows?”

“I am a gentleman.”

“Uh, so am I.”

“No, I’m truly a gentleman.”

“You figured out I’m fake?”

“No. But we’re still different.”

“And then?”

“The sword is the gentleman’s weapon—it must be worn. ‘Archery’ is one of the Six Arts prescribed by the Sage—it must be worn too.”

“But ‘horsemanship’ is one too—should I get you a horse?”

“Not impossible, but everywhere outside is waterlogged—hard to ride.”

“Fine. Reasonable, well-argued, and you’ve got money—do as you please. I’ll go buy some tangerines. Don’t move from here.”

“Alright.”

In the bustling West Market, Ouyang Rong and Yan Wuxu found Xie Lingjiang selecting bows and swords at a weapons shop, somewhat astonished.

This Xie lady, daughter of the Xie family, preferred gentlemanly weapons over feminine adornments.

Ouyang Rong chuckled silently and left her be. The group bought a few more items, then gathered and crossed the West Market, returning to the county office.

But as they entered a busy street, they were blocked by a “traffic jam.” Looking closer, a crowd of refugees was jostling to snatch food beside a luxurious tavern; on the third floor, a laughing young master was wildly tossing food, shouting and hurling dishes.

Ouyang Rong and Xie Lingjiang both frowned. Yan Wuxu glanced and said grimly, “That’s probably Liu Zilin, third son of the Liu family—he calls himself the Third Crown Prince, a tyrant of Longcheng…”

Ouyang Rong didn’t need Yan Liulang’s introduction to recognize this as a major player.

“Magistrate, we…”

“Go to the office and summon help.”

But as they paused, a filthy, weeping Hu woman suddenly pushed out from the crowd below Yuanming Tower, desperate to break through and flee.

But the street was packed—no gap for her to slip through—and behind her, several burly Kunlun slaves laughed as they chased and surrounded her.

At the third-floor window, the purple-robed man—apparently called “Liu Zilin”—flushed crimson, licked his lips, nodded as if counting down, then suddenly roared:

“Release the falcon!”

A fierce cry of a raptor pierced the long street!

A powerful giant falcon shot from the feeding window like an arrow loosed and unable to turn back.

The crowd scattered like a tide, but the desperate Hu woman had no time to run—she fell, scrambled backward, but Jueyun was already diving toward her.

Just as Liu Zilin above eagerly awaited the bloody spectacle to unfold—

Swoosh!

Thud!

And a final cry of a dying raptor.

The entire scene fell silent.

The weeping Hu woman froze, touched her face.

Nothing had happened.

Where was the falcon?

The onlookers and the mad Liu Zilin above all turned, stunned.

A white bird was pinned to a plaque bearing the characters “Yuanming.”

Blood splattered across the pristine paper.

At the street’s end, Ouyang Rong quietly turned to look at the Xie lady beside him, still holding her bow in the classic posture of shooting a hawk. Her slender brows rested beside the string, her stance perfect. Her broad chest, already open and free, now widened further from drawing the bow—fierce and elegant, like a Chinese bellflower.

All eyes turned toward her.

The next instant, Liu Zilin on the third floor, furious, charged down the stairs with his servants:

“Who dares shoot my bird!”

Xie Lingjiang, expression unchanged, turned to the other gentleman and said: “Why are you staring at me, Lianghan? I’m a gentleman. Shooting a vicious bird—isn’t that normal?”

“… ” Ouyang Rong.

You think it’s a sparrow? That’s a falcon flying at eighty miles per hour!