Chapter 357: Eighty-Seven: Xiùniáng? Xiùniáng

Eighty-Seven: Xiùniáng? Xiùniáng

Saw off the capricious county magistrate and Master Venerable Shan Dao.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong returned to Yinbing Zhai.

He searched left and right—the study and bedroom were empty.

The Bai Mao girl's figure was not in the courtyard.

Remembering something, Magistrate Ouyang Rong turned and left Yinbing Zhai, heading toward the kitchen.

Because he had hosted Master Venerable Shan Dao and the county magistrate for dinner, he returned home earlier than usual tonight.

He glanced at the sandglass—it was only the second watch of the hour, eight-thirty at night.

On the long corridor, Magistrate Ouyang Rong once again pondered Li Li Zhengyan and the others leaving Longcheng to drift on the Lady Yunmeng Marsh.

Because of his earlier stay in Prince Xunyang City, he now paid special attention to Li Li Zhengyan's past movements.

The logic was simple: if Li Li Zhengyan, Wei Wei Shaoqi, and the others had already agreed to raise rebellion from the moment they set out south from Yangzhou,

then every stop along their southern journey should have been carefully arranged.

Their trip to drift on the Lady Yunmeng Marsh was certainly not innocent.

"The Record of the Peach Blossom Spring… the Peach Blossom Spring map… could they be searching for a Peach Blossom Spring, one hidden within the Lady Yunmeng Marsh?"

Magistrate Ouyang Rong murmured to himself.

The wind chimes along the corridor jolted him back to awareness.

He arrived at the kitchen.

Inside, a group of maids and cooks were present, among them Ye Ye Weilai's slender frame.

The women were laughing and teasing Ye Ye Weilai, who wore an apron, her waist-length silver hair tied up with a green hairpin, styled like a married woman's coiffure.

Ye Ye Weilai smiled faintly as she washed dishes; the women, curious and gossipy, asked her about her master's daily habits—whether his peculiar tastes were real—and Ye Ye Weilai lowered her head, playing coy… the women chattered incessantly.

The sound of Magistrate Ouyang Rong entering the kitchen drew their attention; the maids and cooks blushed and quickly withdrew.

"Tán láng."

Ye Ye Weilai turned, wiped her hands on her apron, and happily approached him.

"No need, carry on."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong nodded, walked over, and glanced at Ye Ye Weilai standing before the sink:

"Why so late?"

"Chenjun Xie Liu Jie just came by and had a bit to eat."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong froze. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Ye Ye Weilai rolled her blue eyes, whispering:

"Chenjun Xie Liu Jie saw you were receiving guests and told me not to disturb you. She was busy too, so she sent a letter, asking me to pass it on."

"The Lady saw Chenjun Xie Liu Jie was hungry too, so she invited her to eat. I made some extra dishes; Chenjun Xie Liu Jie shared a bowl of rice with the Lady and then left."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong looked at her: "The Wang Fu has indeed been busy lately—good that it is."

Ye Ye Weilai said seriously: "Chenjun Xie Liu Jie also asked me whether you've been going to bed on time."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong gave a wry smile.

Seeing a strand of silver hair slip down over Ye Ye Weilai's forehead, swaying and tickling her nose, making her tilt her head slightly, Magistrate Ouyang Rong reached out and tucked it behind her ear.

His fingers brushed her warm earlobe.

Ye Ye Weilai's hands, streaked with water and grease, remained buried in the dishwater.

"The letter's in my bosom—I can't reach it," she whispered, barely audible.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong nodded, reached into his robe, pulled out the envelope, glanced at it—it was from his teacher Chenjun Xie Xun—

he put it away, yet did not leave.

Silence settled.

He rolled up his sleeves, stepped forward, and helped her wash the dishes.

His technique was surprisingly skilled.

Ye Ye Weilai couldn't help glancing at Magistrate Ouyang Rong:

"Tán láng knows how to do this? Isn't this what the books call 'Yangchun Water'? Scholars never touch it."

"The books also say benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and faithfulness—do all scholars take them seriously?"

Ye Ye Weilai fell silent.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong suddenly asked: "And you, Ye Weilai—how did you become so skilled?"

"I'm a woman, so naturally I know these things. But back in Longcheng, I couldn't cook at all. To be honest with you, Tán láng, I learned from the cooks to please the Lady—and to make you notice me."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong nodded:

"So you learned a lot from the cooks."

Ye Ye Weilai's body stiffened slightly.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong's expression remained calm; he kept washing, even reached over and took the damp cloth from Ye Ye Weilai's still hand, scrubbing the oil off the bowl.

After a moment, Ye Ye Weilai turned her head, her face complex: "Tán láng never asked—I thought you'd forgotten."

"Today, hearing talk of the Lady Yunmeng Marsh again, I remembered Rong Zhen's words."

He paused, then asked: "Did Rong Zhen not speak falsely?"

Ye Ye Weilai hesitated, then nodded, then shook her head:

"I know some sword forms, but I don't know their names. The one who taught me never told me. I don't know the name of the Maiden's Splitting Gaze technique."

"The one who taught you… was the cook, wasn't she?"

"Mm." Ye Ye Weilai whispered: "I once asked her for pastry recipes."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong asked: "Was she the mute cook who worked in Meilu Yuan back in Longcheng?"

Ye Ye Weilai nodded: "You know her?"

Magistrate Ouyang Rong smiled slightly—he couldn't not know her. When he awoke in Donglin Temple and descended the mountain, he had suspected something and investigated.

He discovered that the delicate mute girl named "Xiùniáng" in the underground chamber was none other than his own cook—she made spicy dishes, and likely, during his critical illness, disguised herself as Zhao Xiao Xiao Niangzi to care for him, possibly even endured his drunken assaults in his sleep.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong had quietly uncovered this long ago—but…

"I knew her—but I didn't know she taught swordplay, especially Lady Yunmeng Sword Marsh techniques."

"Now I see—I still know too little."

Ye Ye Weilai bowed her head in shame.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong asked: "Does she have a missing little finger?"

"Mm."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong asked again: "Is she truly a Yue woman? A female cultivator of the Lady Yunmeng Sword Marsh?"

"She should be…"

"When the Digong Dam flooded and I was injured and unconscious, when the dam was on the verge of collapse—was the woman who passed by and drew her sword… her?"

"Yes… yes."

"So she's also a powerful Qi Refiner? I understand now—back in Meilu Yuan, there was a time I slept deeply. When I woke in the morning, the chili flavor on my face… was left by her. She came at night, touched me?"

"Mm."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong's thoughts surged like a spring; every lingering doubt from the past snapped into place. He clenched the bowl's rim tightly—CRACK—it shattered. Ye Ye Weilai immediately grabbed his hand, alarmed, checking for injury.

"Accident. Sorry."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong pulled his hand away, ignoring the wound, his eyes fixed on Ye Ye Weilai:

"Little Sister mentioned once that late at night, there was movement in my room. She came to check and found me snoring soundly—but you were awake. She heard you murmur in your sleep… later she misinterpreted my tastes… Was she in the room that night?"

"Yes… yes."

"I understand now. It was all the same person."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong fell silent.

"I'm sorry, Tán láng."

Ye Ye Weilai lowered her head: "She forbade me to speak—and begged me not to."

"Why didn't she want you to?" Magistrate Ouyang Rong's voice rose, then he lowered it, took a deep breath, and turned back to scrubbing the dishes with focus:

"She's a Yue woman—what connection does she have with me? Why does she keep appearing near me? Is it some debt of life? But why can't she say it?"

Ye Ye Weilai whispered: "Her name is Xiùniáng."

"I know her as Xiùniáng," Magistrate Ouyang Rong frowned.

Ye Ye Weilai froze.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong was about to speak when suddenly a flash of insight struck him—he realized something:

"You… write it down."

Ye Ye Weilai dipped her finger in water and wrote the character " Tou " on the kitchen counter.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong stared at the character, murmuring:

"This 'Xiù'… Xiùniáng… so it's this Xiùniáng… I remember now… but why did the flower register at Tianji Orphanage use a different 'Xiù'? Intentional or accidental?"

Ye Ye Weilai asked curiously: "What 'Xiù'?"

Magistrate Ouyang Rong, eyes fixed ahead, reached out and wrote the character himself.

Ye Ye Weilai frowned: "That… is almost the same."

"No—it's very different…" Magistrate Ouyang Rong raised his hand, pointed to himself, and mocked: "I think too much—I get stuck in corners, walk into dead ends. Now I know who she is…"

Ye Ye Weilai nodded silently: "She mentioned once she was once a child bride, then cast out from the household…"

Magistrate Ouyang Rong suddenly laughed, put down his bowl, wiped his hands, and turned to walk out the door.

Ye Ye Weilai called out to him anxiously, clearing up the maid's behalf:

"My dear, about the childhood bride arrangement—she said it was a misunderstanding, because…"

Magistrate Ouyang Rong waved his hand: "I know. If it weren't a misunderstanding, why would she have returned to care for me, even possibly saved my life…"

Magistrate Ouyang Rong gave a self-deprecating smile, took a few steps, then suddenly stopped:

"Is she an excellent physician?"

Ye Ye Weilai shook her head: "I don't know."

Magistrate Ouyang Rong nodded and left.

Back at Yinbing Zhai, he wiped his face and calmed down.

What he could now confirm was that this maid, Sister Xiuniang, was the childhood bride chosen for him by his mother, Zhao Shi, back in her natal family.

Later, she was sold to a wandering Daoist, and for reasons unknown, became a female cultivator of Lady Yunmeng Sword Marsh, possibly even a member of the Female Lord's Hall, with close ties to the Great Female Lord.

Now she has returned to find him, seemingly offering unrequited devotion, indifferent to the harm caused by that initial misunderstanding.

But honestly, from Magistrate Ouyang Rong's perspective in this life, it was clearly he and his aunt and Zhao's mother who owed her.

He felt a headache coming—this kind of selfless giving, though touching, was also a burden, easily imposed upon others.

Yet the mute maid Sister Xiuniang likely understood this very well, which was why she asked Ye Ye Weilai not to tell Magistrate Ouyang Rong.

Right now, it was Magistrate Ouyang Rong himself being foolish, insisting on uncovering every strange detail.

Sometimes in life, it's better to be a little clueless; too much clarity makes it impossible to keep deceiving yourself.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong rubbed his face.

His only remaining puzzle was this: each time he awoke in the underground crypt, he had seen Sister Xiuniang.

He once thought it coincidence; now, it looked like deliberate manipulation.

So who truly saved him—the Master Venerable Shan Dao, the passing physician, or Sister Xiuniang—or someone she called upon?

Magistrate Ouyang Rong now held deep suspicion toward Master Venerable Shan Dao.

Because on the matter of unreliability, Master Venerable Shan Dao was remarkably dependable.

Yet given Sister Xiuniang's habit of doing good deeds without seeking credit, if she had indeed saved him, Master Venerable Shan Dao and Xiu Fa probably didn't even know of her existence, and assumed it was the Dōnglín Temple's medical skill.

No wonder he woke up each time in the dead of night…

The true truth behind it all left Magistrate Ouyang Rong with a throbbing head.

This mattered deeply—it determined just how much he owed the young girl.

If she had merely slipped in quietly at night, cooked for him, and drawn her sword pretending to pass by at Di Gong Zha, then the debt was still manageable—at least not one requiring Magistrate Ouyang Rong to risk his life to repay it; merely offering sincere gratitude when they met again would suffice.

Treat her kindly.

Though they could never be husband and wife, they could still care for each other like family.

But if she had saved his life twice, or given even more, Magistrate Ouyang Rong felt the debt was immense—Sister Xiuniang's actions had gone beyond repayment; they were love, and some debts of love cannot be repaid even with one's life…

He suddenly bore the weight of a possible great debt.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong's gaze grew complex.

He tossed and turned all night.

The next day.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong, with dark circles under his eyes, went to his post.

Yan Yan Liulang and Chen Yan Canjun couldn't help but glance at him twice, their expressions strange, warning:

"My Lord, exercise restraint…"

Magistrate Ouyang Rong ignored them, face stern.

All day, his expression remained distracted; it took two days before he improved somewhat.

That day, while inspecting the city, standing atop the ramparts, the river wind brushing his face, he gazed at the steadily strengthening, impregnable defenses of Prince Xunyang City, pursed his lips, and stared at the once-bustling Prince Xunyang Ferry and the countless civilians moving within Xingzi Fang.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong suddenly recalled how Li Li Zhengyan's army had offered surrender terms along the way, doing all it could to spare the common folk.

Honestly, this tactic—buying the bones of a horse at a thousand taels—was brilliant: showing zero harm to surrendered cities, truly a psychological strike.

This man understood clearly—he sought to destroy the heart of the Great Zhou, not the lives of its people.

Even if it were an act, it deserved praise.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong had recently felt a touch of disappointment at Wang Jun's talk of "uniting" merely to seize the throne.

But he also held little hope or eagerness for the current Great Zhou court.

To him, both sides were the same; his only standard was how to resolve matters with minimal violence, without disturbing the people.

Magistrate Ouyang Rong would faithfully fulfill his duties as Jiangzhou's Chief Secretary—but he was no loyal subject of the Great Zhou.

A question he asked himself: was Magistrate Ouyang Magistrate Ouyang Lianghan loyal to the monarch, or loyal to the people and the state?

Li Li Zhengyan and the Great Zhou court were locked in civil war, fighting for legitimacy.

Not resisting foreign invaders.

So in a crisis, should Magistrate Ouyang Rong use the entire city's population as a bargaining chip to win the hollow title of a righteous man holding out alone? Even to the point of exhausting supplies, resorting to cannibalism, provoking the Restoration Army into a blood frenzy, and allowing them to slaughter for ten days after breaking the city?

Magistrate Ouyang Rong had a scale in his heart.

In the afternoon, Magistrate Ouyang Rong went to the Jiangzhou Hall, as usual, to meet Wang Wang Lengran and inquire about military affairs.

The Jiangzhou Zhechong Fu had barely a thousand soldiers.

A Zhechong Fu normally had fifteen hundred active soldiers; previously, a thousand were sent to reinforce Hongzhou, suffered a crushing defeat, and only three or four hundred returned—some surrendered, others fled—and have since regrouped.

Thus, the Jiangzhou Zhechong Fu could only muster nine hundred soldiers.

In recent days, with reinforcements arriving from Yangzhou and elsewhere, over two thousand new militia troops have joined.

Now, the encampment outside Prince Xunyang City holds roughly three thousand soldiers—about the strength of two Zhechong Fu units.

Though far short of Cai Qin's claimed two hundred thousand victorious troops, only experts knew this was inflated.

"Victorious troops" meant soldiers capable of basic combat.

But Zhechong Fu soldiers were professional military households, born of respectable families—not conscripts hastily raised.

Thus, Cai Qin's main force consisted of only slightly more than four thousand Zhechong Fu troops, likely under five thousand; the two hundred thousand figure included all manner of irregulars and conscripts.

In a major battle, controlling terrain, it would be three thousand against five thousand—disadvantage on our side. But for defense, waiting for reinforcements from the imperial court, three thousand was sufficient.

Moreover, with the Prince of Prince Xunyang present as Pacification Envoy, stationed in Prince Xunyang City, morale among soldiers and civilians remained decent; no one despaired of reinforcements—the court couldn't possibly abandon the Prince of Prince Xunyang.

This was the prevailing view among most in Jiangzhou; military morale was stabilizing.

That morning, Jiangzhou Hall received news: Cai Qin's army had been halted within Jiangzhou territory; the Jishui County constable Zhao Zhao Rushi had executed the county magistrate and assistant magistrate who sought to surrender, and organized civilian militias to defend the county, fiercely resisting the rebel forces.

When news of Cai Qin's obstruction reached Jiangzhou, Jishui County was already encircled, and messengers had come urgently requesting aid.

The Jiangzhou Hall was stunned; Wang Wang Lengran's face lit up with joy, Magistrate Ouyang Rong frowned slightly, and officials gathered quickly in the hall for discussion…

Earlier, there was still Chapter "Eighty-Six"—don't forget it! It was posted on time today, moved over…