Volume One, Chapter 15: Master, Your Servant Has Your Back

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Liu Wuyi dodged left and right with the guards’ movements, occasionally blood splashing before her eyes but she dared not utter a sound, fearing it would distract the men protecting her. Liu Wenyuan, disguised and having exhausted all the stones in his hand, still could not make up for the overwhelming difference in numbers with such clever tricks. He drew his long sword at his waist, about to step out of the alley, when suddenly he noticed someone approaching from afar and quickly vanished back into the shadows.

Only two guards remained by Liu Wuyi’s side, and the onlookers, unwilling to provoke trouble, scattered completely. A loud shout rang out: “Imperial Guards here! Who dares cause a disturbance on the street?”

A broad-shouldered man with a dark face, dressed in deep blue robes and a long sword at his waist, hurried over from the alley’s mouth. Behind him followed seven or eight Imperial Guards in matching uniforms. Liu Wuyi turned her head, her eyes lighting up as she recognized the burly leader as the very man who had struck her shoulder with a sword scabbard that day.

“Brother of the Imperial Guards, do you still remember what happened half a month ago...” He Yong fixed his gaze and realized this was the woman brought back by the Magistrate. Seeing her in peril, he drew his sword and charged forward, his men following suit. Within moments, three or four attackers fell, and they broke through the circle to shield their master and her servants.

The heir of the Pingyang Marquis was furious to see his most trusted servant knocked to the ground, uncertain of his fate. “Who are you? How dare you ruin my affairs?”

The remaining servants, intimidated, retreated slightly. They had often bullied women relying on their numbers and the Marquis’s backing, but facing the Imperial Guards was a different matter altogether.

He Yong cupped his hands respectfully: “I am He Yong, Captain of the Imperial Guards.”

“So this is your patron. A mere fifth-rank Captain dares to show off in front of the Pingyang Marquis’s heir?” Xue Shuyao sneered disdainfully.

The Pingyang Marquis’s heir said coldly, “Even if your commander were here, he wouldn’t dare snatch people from me. Be wise and leave quickly, or I’ll make sure you lose your official hat.”

He Yong’s face darkened. “This woman belongs to the Magistrate...”

“Mag-Mag-Magistrate, my foot!” The heir grabbed the box from a maid impatiently, pulling out a contract of servitude. “Look carefully, she’s a government-bought courtesan from the Music Bureau. A written contract—your Magistrate can say nothing.”

A light laugh came from a distance, brief and like the shifting wind.

“Is that so?” The question was clear to all ears.

The Pingyang Marquis’s heir glanced around but saw no one. “Quite lively. I’ve snatched people before, but never had so many rush to defend.”

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“What business have you here, shouting in front of me!” The newcomer’s tone was cold and emotionless: “Noisy.”

A tile shot from above, striking the Pingyang Marquis’s heir hard on the mouth. The tile shattered on the ground, and the heir cried out in pain, blood trickling between his fingers as he pulled his hand away, revealing fragments of broken teeth.

Liu Wuyi had no time to pay attention and instead scanned her surroundings for the familiar figure. Her gaze finally fixed on the rooftop across the street, and a relieved smile slowly bloomed on her face.

The forced calm on Liu Wuyi’s delicate and beautiful face vanished, replaced by a tender, innocent smile, like that of a carefree young girl.

Xue Shuyao followed Liu Wuyi’s gaze and was instantly terrified by the purple-gold python robe. The pitiful cries of the Pingyang Marquis’s heir beside her faded into background noise.

City regulations limited shops used by merchants to a maximum of three floors. Opposite the Zhenlong Pavilion stood the Xiangqing Tower, one of the three great taverns of the East Market, alongside the Tongfu Tower. At this moment, its doors and windows were tightly shut, with no one in sight.

Dantai Kanan stood with his hands behind his back on the eave of the second floor, his robe caught by the wind, swirling left and right. He stood upright amid the breeze, immovable. Liu Wuyi’s heart settled as she watched him.

After locking eyes with Liu Wuyi for a moment, Dantai Kanan’s expression darkened mysteriously. Without a sound, he descended gracefully before her.

Liu Wuyi bowed slightly and called softly, “My lord.”

He Yong led his men in saluting Dantai Kanan: “Your subordinate greets the Magistrate.”

In an instant, many knelt down, leaving only Dantai Kanan and Liu Wuyi standing.

The Pingyang Marquis’s heir collapsed outright, burying his face into the ground in full submission.

This was it—truly the deadly star. The once illustrious Ningguo Duke’s family had countless disciples and old friends across the court and capital. If he desired a complete purge, it would be done without hesitation. He was the only legitimate son of his father, but there were many concubine sons. If he died, probably only his mother would grieve.

At the street’s end, a squad of Imperial Guards rode swiftly, escorting three horse-drawn carriages bearing the blazing family crest. The streets were deserted, allowing the convoy to move quickly, kicking up clouds of dust.

Liu Wenyuan quietly retreated from the alley and returned to the Zhenlong Pavilion.

The convoy halted. Chunhua jumped down from behind Dantai Kanan and hurried to Liu Wuyi’s side, scrutinizing her carefully. Seeing the bloodstains on her, tears welled up.

“Mistress, I’ve come too late.”

“I’m not hurt. This isn’t my blood. Don’t worry.” Liu Wuyi brushed aside Chunhua’s disheveled hair and encouraged her, “Chunhua, you’ve come just in time. If the Magistrate hadn’t arrived, that scoundrel wouldn’t have given up.”

“Stop crying. We’ll return to the mansion soon.”

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The smooth-talking shopkeeper He had already called for servants to prepare a seat and served tea to Dantai Kanan.

“Godmother, please sit,” Dantai San smiled warmly at Liu Wuyi.

Liu Wuyi instinctively glanced at Dantai Kanan, who simply lowered his head to sip tea. She complied, knowing that in front of others, if Dantai Kanan wished to honor her, she would not be ungrateful.

“Chuntao and the guards were seriously injured...” Liu Wuyi said.

Dantai San replied respectfully, “Godmother, rest assured. Orders have been given to take them to the clinic immediately.”

Dantai Kanan set down his porcelain cup, its crisp clink against the tray held by Shopkeeper He silencing the room instantly. Everyone straightened involuntarily, careful not to make a sound.

“I’ve heard someone tried to steal my wife.”

Eyes instinctively turned to the Pingyang Marquis’s heir and Xue Shuyao, who knelt obediently in the center.

Neither had prepared a response. The circle of vile slaves kneeling beside them were so terrified they had lost control, the stench spreading.

Liu Wuyi frowned, raising her sleeve to cover her nose and mouth, nausea rising. Dantai Kanan pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and handed it to her.

Dantai San’s eyes sharpened. “Drag them away.”

Without specifying, the Imperial Guards swiftly pulled off the headscarves of all but the ringleaders, stuffing them into their mouths, and dragged them off.

He Yong quickly snatched the box containing the contract from the maid’s hand before she too was taken away.

In this scene, the Pingyang Marquis’s heir and Xue Shuyao trembled like shaken chaff, their minds scrambled and unable to speak.

Liu Wuyi sipped her tea but could not quell the nausea, spitting up two mouthfuls of sour water. Chunhua on her right held a small golden basin to catch the refuse, while a hand on her left offered a silk handkerchief and tea to rinse her mouth, the care delicate and thoughtful.

Dantai San glanced at his godfather, who was busy but could not ignore the question: “Magistrate is asking. Don’t you two hear him?”