Chapter 83: Shock

"Kindly inform the steward that I and Deputy General Song wish to pay respects to Madam Er and Miss Tianfeng."

Song Changqing and Wei Wu were turned away; the guards outside refused them entry, and even after announcing their identities, they were only sent for Guan Zhong.

Guan Zhong’s plump face wore a sneer: "At Feixian Ferry, you showed no such eagerness—when asked to serve the Lord, you delayed and dodged, even harboring ill intentions."

Wei Wu offered a submissive smile and pleaded softly: "We haven’t just met you since the battle at Feixian Ferry."

Even if the steward is displeased and wishes to scold us, haven’t we endured your commands and insults these past days? Must you do so today?

It’s already late—don’t disturb Madam and Miss Tianfeng’s rest."

Guan Zhong snorted, and indeed stopped mocking them.

"At least coming here to pay respects shows your conscience hasn’t been entirely corrupted."

Guan Zhong led the two into the inn’s main hall but did not take them to the rear to find Madam Wen.

"Madam Er is currently instructing Miss Yu in swordplay. You may wait here for word. If Madam is willing to grant you an audience, I’ll come fetch you."

Song Changqing asked: "Is Miss Tianfeng also in the back courtyard?"

Guan Zhong shook his head. "Miss Tianfeng is exhausted from travel and too weary to bother coming out."

Song Changqing rose and said: "Then let us pay our respects to Miss Tianfeng first."

Guan Zhong frowned. "What nonsense are you spouting? You’re an adult man—how is it proper to visit an unmarried young lady?"

Song Changqing replied: "Didn’t you yourself go to pay respects to Miss Tianfeng after arriving?"

A simple greeting at the door is enough—no one expects Miss Tianfeng to personally receive you."

Guan Zhong had indeed gone to pay respects to Miss Tianfeng immediately upon arrival—but hadn’t seen her.

"Follow me."

To Guan Zhong’s surprise, Miss Tianfeng opened the courtyard gate and called Song Changqing inside.

"Hey, Wei Wu, you stay behind; the miss only called Song Changqing."

Wei Wu tried to follow, but Guan Zhong blocked him.

Moreover, Guan Zhong himself remained outside and did not enter.

Miss Tianfeng had specifically requested only Song Changqing—she didn’t even wish to see him.

"Have you met Lord Lieyang?" Tianfeng gazed eagerly at Changqing, her cheeks slightly flushed. "What does he look like? Is he handsome? Is he really only twenty-one?"

Song Changqing glanced at her and said: "General Guan has met Lord Lieyang far more often."

Tianfeng’s face hardened. "You brute, you ignorant old soldier—my father nearly died at his hands. Do you really expect me to ask him? Do you want him to kill me too?"

Song Changqing’s heart stirred, but his expression remained blank. "You could quietly ask your sister—she’s met Lord Lieyang too."

"Which one is my sister?"

Tianfeng asked, puzzled, then suddenly understood. Her previously sweet, blushing face twisted into pure malice and hatred.

She snatched up a teacup and hurled it at Changqing’s face.

"Crash!"

Song Changqing could have dodged—but he didn’t. The cup shattered against his temple, tea leaves splattering across his face.

"I’ll beat this filthy black pig! That sand-dwelling whore doesn’t deserve to be my sister! I’ll beat you, you vile bastard!" Still unsatisfied, she grabbed the teapot.

Song Changqing dodged and said earnestly: "Miss Tianfeng, you may strike me—but don’t anger Madam. She adores Miss Yu and is teaching her swordplay right now!"

Tianfeng placed one hand on her hip and pointed a finger at Changqing’s nose. "You ignorant, gluttonous pig—you know nothing! My mother doesn’t like her at all—that little sand-dwelling dog isn’t even fit to—”

She still retained a sliver of reason and swallowed the rest of her words at the last moment.

"Get out! Get out!" she hissed, her eyes—identical to Madam Wen’s—narrowing fiercely.

Song Changqing bowed silently and turned to leave.

Guan Zhong and Wei Wu had heard the commotion inside and were now craning their necks toward the door.

"What happened? Did you make the miss angry?"

Song Changqing shook his head. "She asked about Lord Lieyang’s appearance—whether he was handsome, that sort of thing. I didn’t know how to answer."

That simple sentence caused Wei Wu and Guan Zhong to clamp their mouths shut; their suspicions largely dissolved.

Back in the main hall, Guan Zhong and Wei Wu gradually noticed Song Changqing’s hesitation and inner turmoil.

Song Changqing wore his helmet as usual, the faceplate pulled down to conceal his expression.

Though his face was hidden, he sat restlessly, as if suffering from hemorrhoids.

He kept rising, pacing alone with his head bowed, as if wrestling with some internal dilemma.

"What’s wrong?" When Guan Zhong stepped away, Wei Wu whispered.

"Nothing."

"Sigh... honestly, I’m worried too—but at Feixian Ferry, we did everything we could. We’ve no regrets.

Madam should understand, and General Guan will... forgive us," Wei Wu sighed.

He assumed Song Changqing was anxious about meeting Madam Wen and later facing Guan Huichen in Luodu.

"No regrets...?" Song Changqing murmured.

He gradually calmed, returned to his seat, and sat motionless as if carved from stone.

Outside, the sky darkened, and a maid brought candles.

Soon, Guan Zhong rushed over, waving his hands. "Get out! Get far away!"

"What?" Wei Wu was baffled.

"Madam’s exact words: ‘Tell them to leave—get far away,’" Guan Zhong said.

"Ah... Madam won’t even see us..." Wei Wu’s face darkened with worry, his eyes anxiously fixed on Song Changqing.

Song Changqing’s voice was steady: "Is Madam still with Miss Yu?"

Guan Zhong shook his head. "Don’t even think about it—Madam is finally free and waiting for dinner. But she still refuses to see you."

Wei Wu’s worry deepened.

"I’ll go see Miss Yu," Song Changqing rose.

"Why see Miss Yu? Haven’t you seen her enough these past days? Go home—don’t stir up trouble," Guan Zhong snapped.

Wei Wu’s eyes lit up. "Ah! Song’s got the right idea! Madam adores Miss Yu—if Miss Yu speaks well of us... she was there at Feixian Ferry, she knows our efforts and merits!"

"Ah... I see," Guan Zhong nodded slowly, then shook his head again. "Even if Madam favors Miss Yu, asking her to defy her wishes now would seem like taking advantage of favoritism—unwise, very unwise."

When no vital interest is at stake, Old Zhong truly is a loyal servant who thinks only of his master’s welfare.

Wei Wu immediately said: "Miss Yu is clever—she’ll know the right moment."

Guan Zhong hesitated.

Miss Yu was indeed clever and wouldn’t act rashly.

Song Changqing said: "Both are young ladies. We’ve already paid respects to Miss Tianfeng—before leaving, it’s only proper to visit Miss Yu as well."

This convinced Guan Zhong.

Miss Yu’s status was certainly lower than Miss Tianfeng’s, but on minor matters, there was no need to draw such sharp distinctions.

Moments later.

The western courtyard where Little Yu resided.

When Song Changqing and Wei Wu arrived, Little Yu was just beginning her dinner, her mind still using the Purple Mansion to refine the Wind-Yin Treasures.

The first version of "Wen Danxia Annihilation Method: Ambush and Covert Assassination" had already been fully deduced.

It was the simplest, most efficient method to kill Madam Wen.

Before consuming the Bone-Transformation Pill and evolving her Purple Mansion’s powers, she could only passively accept the simplest, most efficient method deduced by the Purple Mansion; after taking the pill, she could now partially guide its deductions.

Simplicity and efficiency were good—but they didn’t fully exploit the Purple Mansion’s full potential.

For example, Huichen possessed the Thousand-Mile Eye; stealthy assassination was less efficient than sudden ambush, so the Purple Mansion’s deduction favored sudden attack.

Little Yu wanted to break the Thousand-Mile Eye ability.

So she switched to a stealthy assassination method targeting the Thousand-Mile Eye.

The second version—"Method to Kill the Immortal-Eyed Tiger"—was still incomplete.

Madam Wen didn’t have the Thousand-Mile Eye, but she possessed the "Wind-Yin Flash Sword Technique," which functioned like teleportation.

She reacted instantly, leaping ten steps away the moment startled—making sudden ambush far harder than stealthy assassination.

Thus, the Purple Mansion’s first version of "Killing Wen Danxia" targeted the Wind-Yin Treasures cultivator’s spiritual perception weakness.

Little Yu wanted to directly counter the Wind-Yin Treasures, so she switched to a "Direct Assault Method"—the most difficult, still under slow deduction.

Even while eating, she devoted most of her mental energy to the Purple Mansion’s deductions, appearing distracted and absent-minded.

"You haven’t eaten yet, have you? What do you want?"

Seeing visitors, Little Yu set down her chopsticks and left the side dining hall.

"Miss Yu, we’d like you to help—"

Before Wei Wu could finish, Song Changqing suddenly stared past her and roared: "Who’s hiding back there? Come out!"

"There’s no one hiding—"

As Little Yu turned, Song Changqing was already beside her.

She thought he was targeting someone behind her—but instead, his entire qi erupted, his palm veered off-target, and struck her nape.

Little Yu felt as if she’d been hit by a speeding truck—her head went numb, and she collapsed unconscious.

Song Changqing’s palm became a claw, wrapped in the ferocious essence of the Tiger Soul, like a razor-sharp tiger’s talon.

"Squelch! Squelch! Squelch~~~"

The claw struck Little Yu’s spine, producing faint cracks of breaking bone, then blood seeped from the wounds, staining her pale yellow outer robe with crimson blossoms.

First the spine, then the shoulder blades and both arms.

Finally, he exhaled sharply, his tiger claws reverting to hands, and pressed one palm against Xiao Yu’s lower back, his true qi surging as he stood still.

Black-red torrents of ferocious tiger primordial energy spread from his arm, engulfing Xiao Yu’s entire body.

Sweat broke on his forehead; he clenched his teeth and held on with all his strength.

Xiao Yu’s body was encircled by the massive tiger soul primordial energy; blood streamed increasingly from her spine, arms, and both shoulders.

“Song Changqing, what are you doing?”

Only now did the dazed and bewildered Wei Wu snap out of it, trying to rush forward and push Song Changqing away—but the next instant, a powerful force laced with immense killing intent struck his head from the side.

“Boom—Crash!” Wei Wu was flung sideways, smashing through the wooden door and landing in the courtyard, spitting out a mouthful of blood, silent and motionless—alive or dead, no one could tell.

“Song Changqing, how dare you!”

But the killing intent was not aimed at Wei Wu—greater force and all the killing intent converged upon Song Changqing.

“Boom!”

Song Changqing took a brutal blow to his back; even as he was still airborne, blood gushed wildly from his mouth.

“Guan Shentong, stop!”

A cold, low command halted Guan Shentong’s next killing move.

“Master, he shattered Sha Manyu’s sword bone—he deserves to die!”

Guan Shentong, face flushed with rage, turned and shouted toward the shadow behind him.

“Guan Shentong, we are merely servants. Servants must know their place—do not make decisions for our master on your own.” The shadow’s tone tried to remain calm, yet could not hide its suppressed fury and regret.

Guan Shentong drew a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, then stepped before Song Changqing, seized his throat, and lifted him up. “Why?”

Song Changqing’s helmet had been knocked off; his ugly piggy eyes and rotting melon face were now exposed.

Yet his face broke into a brilliant smile. “I don’t speak to servants. Guan Chenghuang, I knew you’d come. If you have questions, ask them yourself.”

“What’s there to ask? You hate me, you hate Huchen, you hate every Guan family member—making us suffer is all you want.” A faint sigh echoed beside Xiao Yu—Guan Chenghuang’s voice.

“Master, your servant is guilty!” The shadow revealed its true form—a green-faced, fanged ghost—kneeling and bowing before Guan Chenghuang.

“Ancestor, we were careless. We never expected Song Changqing would be so... Ancestor, can Sha Manyu still be saved?”

Guan Shentong also knelt, not lowering his head—his face and eyes filled with anticipation and dread.