Chapter 68: Sixty-Nine, Nine Five: The Flying Dragon in the Heavens

Sixty-Nine, Nine Five: The Flying Dragon in the Heavens

“Miss, let me take just one look, just one glance.”

“Look at what? Go prepare some wound ointment, hot water, and towels.”

“What does Miss need those for? Never mind, never mind—I won’t press you… You look first, Miss.”

“No, it’s for when Sister Xie comes back.”

“Ah! What happened to Sister Xie!”

“The handsome county magistrate you like is whipping someone right now.”

“The chubby-faced little maid seemed to freeze for a moment, then jumped up:”

“Wow! So thrilling, Miss, let me take a peek, just one look!”

“?”

The slender woman with plum-blossom makeup did not huddle against the wall like the chubby maid who had just been chased off.

As if afflicted by a aversion to dirt, her left hand rested behind her waist, her right index finger pressed lightly between her chest and the red wall, propping up her tilted frame; she stretched her neck over the wall, her head not turning, and said:

“Nothing worth seeing.”

“Then why did you steal my spot? I arranged the bench and the stones, and the sunflower seeds—wahhh!”

“I’m not eating your sunflower seeds.”

The plum-blossom makeup woman pursed her lips:

“I’m just bored, but admit it—you clumsy maid picked a decent spot for snacking and watching. The view’s wide open… you’ve got a bit of a scout’s talent, shame you waste it on this.”

Cai Shou, crouched on the ground, lifted her small face in Weiqu :

“Miss, weren’t we going to Donglin Temple today?”

“After we finish watching.”

Su Guoer’s voice grew fainter, as if her mind had drifted elsewhere.

Beneath a plum branch extending over the wall, her eyes, fixed on the entrance of the Longcheng County Office, clearly reflected the figure of the young county magistrate speaking loudly.

At one moment, outside the red wall, the young magistrate tossed out his new plan, stunned the crowd, then departed with effortless grace.

Inside the red wall, the plum-blossom makeup woman rose on her toes, narrowed her eyes, and nodded; her index finger, pressed between her chest and the wall, pushed forward slightly, using the leverage to spin around.

With her back to the wall, she lightly gripped her skirt and leapt off the stone-stacked bench; mid-air, her pale peach-colored ruqun fluttered like wings.

“Miss, be careful!” Cai Shou stood and reached out to catch her.

The woman, as if trained in dance, touched ground with her embroidered slippers, bent her long legs slightly to absorb the impact, and moved with clean precision; she turned her head, brushed aside the hand of her personal maid reaching to help, and smiled as she murmured:

“This is called Nine Five: The Flying Dragon in the Heavens.”

“Still flying? Miss hasn’t flown in ages…”

Su Guoer, hands clasped behind her back, walked away without explanation.

Cai Shou sighed helplessly and hurried after her.

Though her mistress now seemed refined, that was only because she had grown up; as a child, she had been willful, mischievous, spoiled, and domineering—climbing trees, scaling walls, leaping through the air like a boy. Poor Cai Shou had spent those days chasing after her.

But later, as if she had grown tired of it, and as age came, she grew quiet and composed, began opening books, furrowing her brow in deep concentration, reading and sketching; afterward, the small bookcase in her boudoir piled higher and higher, and the courtyard where Cai Shou dried the books grew larger and larger.

The once spoiled, domineering demeanor gradually transformed into something colder, more aloof and icy—whether this was a true change, or merely another form of deepening, no one could say.

Yet the chubby-faced maid still preferred the old version, because back then, the Miss, though cruel and domineering, was also spontaneous and innocent—Cai Shou could still follow her thoughts.

Now, the Miss spoke more tersely, grew more solitary and haughty; Cai Shou often couldn’t keep up with her pace, and she felt even Master and Lady Su struggled to do so.

But who could blame her? Since childhood, she had been the center of endless affection within the Su household.

Master, Lady, and Dalang all revolved around her.

It was said her childhood name, Guoer, came from when the family fell into decline and moved to Jiangzhou; the bumpy road caused Lady Wei to go into premature labor. As soon as the baby was born, Master immediately took off his robe and wrapped her in it.

Perhaps because she was a daughter, or perhaps because they felt guilty for her birth amid their family’s ruin, Master and Lady had always granted her every wish.

“Miss, what does this ‘cutting the bends and straightening the course’ mean? How can it cure the flood in Butterfly Creek?”

Though Cai Shou hadn’t climbed the wall, she had listened intently and caught fragments of the conversation.

“I’m not sure. I’ve never heard of this kind of water management before.”

“There are things Miss doesn’t know?”

“Learning has no limit; expertise demands specialization. This young man possesses exceptional talent for water control and practical ability. Aside from Master Di, none of the previous county magistrates of Longcheng could match him. To be stuck as a mere county magistrate is a waste of his talent.”

Cai Shou thought for a moment, muttering: “So… is he still just a pretty face? Hmm, at least he’s not a hypocrite anymore…”

The beautiful woman ahead suddenly stopped, turned, and pinched the plump, round cheek of the dazed maid who had bumped her forehead into her back.

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Cai Shou begged, surrendering.

“Does it feel good to see your sweetheart shine?” Su Guoer glanced sideways at her.

“Wh-what sweetheart? Miss, don’t say nonsense.”

“If he’s not your sweetheart, why do you keep talking about him? Even Sister Xie doesn’t mention him as often as you do.”

“Wah! It’s not just me—every maid in the household whispers that the new county magistrate is handsome. I’m just repeating what they say.”

The chubby-faced maid quickly waved her hands in protest.

Su Guoer said nothing, lowered her eyelids, pinched the soft cheek again, then turned and walked back inside.

“Go prepare the wound ointment, hot water, and towels. Also, take out the Lushan tea from the west hall cabinet. In the next two days, you’ll likely meet your ‘sweetheart.’”

Cai Shou froze.

Su Guoer returned to her room, flipped through Tao Qian’s poetry collection, frequently closing the book, as if her mind was elsewhere.

Cai Shou’s remark had indeed been correct.

How could she have imagined that a brilliant Metropolitan Graduate, third-place palace examination honoree, a man of exceptional talent and capability, could have chosen to abandon the prestigious, refined halls of the Secretariat’s Lin Tai in Luoyang—where “the gentleman stores his tools”—and instead pursue the dangerous path of a speech-official, risking his life for fame through blunt remonstrance?

Was he playing with his future?

Or was it deliberate?

Regardless, this sensation of her previously unshakable evaluations being constantly overturned—

Left her, who had always prevailed, with a faint sense of defeat.

“Could he still change again?”

Inside the pavilion, the young, proud, aloof plum-blossom makeup woman closed the book, bit her lip, and for a moment felt a small irritation toward that man.

After the “Pearl Redemption” case, which had drawn the entire city’s attention, ended.

Outside and inside the Longcheng County Office on Lueming Street, the bustle continued unabated.

News of the young magistrate’s plan to straighten the Butterfly Creek—unchanged for a hundred years—spread through the ancient county, carried by the dispersing crowds who had watched the trial.

In alleys, markets, teahouses, and taverns, all were abuzz; the magistrate’s courtroom rulings and his new water project had become the hottest topic of conversation among Longcheng’s people.

By the magistrate’s order, the county office moved the water-control sand model, which displayed the envisioned improvements, to Lueming Street, placing it openly on the street for all curious citizens to observe at any time.

Some were excited, some hopeful, others worried and skeptical.

All feedback, all emotions, all reactions—whether optimistic or pessimistic—rose in layers to a desk in the county office, where a long, strong, well-boned hand pressed them down firmly.

Document after document concerning the new project flowed steadily from that hand, pushed forward without wavering…

No matter what.

In this ordinary season, just after Dragon Boat Festival and before Minor Heat, people gradually realized: beneath the drizzling plum rains, the ancient county of Jiangzhou in southern Jiangnan was quietly changing.