Chapter Fifty-Five: Let Him Have a Taste of His Own Medicine

The rain showed no sign of stopping, pouring down relentlessly as if determined to swallow the thatched cottage whole. Water had pooled in the sunken parts of the yard; if one were to toss a fish into it, it might well stir up splashes.

"Those words aren’t exactly endearing. But it’s all right, I appreciate straightforwardness," the alluring man replied, glancing back with a smile that truly embodied a hundred charms.

Alas, Xuexue could not see what kind of expression accompanied that smile. Her hand rested on the table, fingertips tracing the rough surface with a ghost of a touch. Her demeanor was so unhurried, even the sound of the rain seemed to become a melody.

"Master Zuo Qiu, why not speak plainly? What is it you wish me to do, or what can I do for you?" She had some knowledge of the strange arts of Wu, but as a blind girl, what could she possibly offer him?

"Are you asking me a question, Little Xue?" Zuo Qiu Liye seemed intrigued, his long, fox-like eyes studying the girl seated before him.

"Why not come over here and sit, Master? Let’s have a proper conversation." She did not answer directly but gestured to the empty seat beside her. "Or is it that you’ve grown so accustomed to a life of luxury that you disdain even the seats of common folk?"

Her words might have sounded biting, yet in her mouth they were delivered with an air of calm, devoid of mockery or derision—serious and sincere, as if she were simply stating a fact.

"Since you’ve invited me, Little Xue, how could I refuse your kindness?" With that, he shrugged off his cloak, revealing a cascade of glossy black hair that tumbled past his legs.

His attendant quickly wiped down the seat and placed a soft cushion upon it.

He truly knew how to enjoy himself—was this what they called the "ailment of the privileged"?

All the while, the little fox that had been curled on Xuexue’s lap leapt nimbly onto the table, positioning itself between the two as if to protect her.

When their fox-like eyes met, his were wickedly enchanting, while the small fox’s gleamed with guarded alertness.

"It’s been a few days, and I see you have a new pet. Its fur looks warm; as it happens, I’m in need of something for my knees," Zuo Qiu Liye remarked.

At his words, the little fox let out a defiant yelp, unwilling to yield.

"It’s just a tiny fox, after all. Surely you lack nothing, Master Zuo Qiu. Besides, it does keep my knees warm," she replied evenly.

"Indeed, just a little fox. One hand would suffice to crush it," he said, pressing down on its head with a force that was neither light nor heavy, a clear show of dominance.

"Careful, Master. Even a dog will leap when cornered—how much more a fox?"

No sooner had she spoken than there was a sharp sound, and a fresh scratch appeared on the back of Zuo Qiu Liye’s hand.

"I did warn you, Master Zuo Qiu. Don’t lose your temper over a little fox," she said with a hidden smile, scooping the creature back onto her lap and stroking it gently. "Wildness is not easily tamed in small creatures."

"Heh." Zuo Qiu Liye gave a short laugh, looking at the scratch on his hand. "Little Xue, I thought sending someone to follow you would uncover your true identity. But it seems you are far more mysterious than I anticipated. My men nearly lost track of you. If it weren’t for that village woman who recognized your portrait, who knows when we’d have met again? So, who you are is no longer important—what matters is that you serve my purpose."

"I hope, for your sake, you haven’t chosen the wrong person," she retorted coolly.

She suspected their encounter at the inn had not been mere coincidence. With the skills of his retinue, how could they not have sensed her presence? From start to finish, Zuo Qiu Liye had been setting traps, waiting for her to fall in.

Gradually, the wind and rain at last showed signs of abating…

Inside the thatched cottage all was quiet; evidently, they were all waiting for the rain to stop.

A soft sound—Little Hu emerged, still bleary-eyed from sleep. Startled by the unfamiliar face of Zuo Qiu Liye, he relaxed only upon seeing Xuexue still present.

"Sister, how did I fall asleep?" He shuffled to her side, clearly pleased she hadn’t left, a shy smile blooming on his chubby, rosy cheeks.

"You were tired, so you slept," Xuexue said, reaching out to touch his face. Still half-awake, his cheeks were flushed, like fresh flowers after rain.

"My head feels dizzy," Little Hu said, shaking his small head, his vision still slightly unfocused.

"From now on, you’ll have to rely on yourself, Little Hu." Her voice was gentle and soothing, calming even the heart.

"Mm…" Little Hu nodded, half-understanding. Whatever his sister said must be right; he would listen.

The rain gradually ceased, and with its end came parting. It was an odd feeling—though she had known this child for less than a day, she felt an unexpected reluctance to leave.

Perhaps human emotions are always thus subtle and delicate.

"Are you leaving?" Little Hu asked in surprise, his round face anxious.

"Yes." She nodded. Zuo Qiu Liye had already stepped outside, donning his cloak and hat to conceal himself.

He stood as his attendant arranged his attire, clearly waiting for her to join him.

Little Hu’s eyes reddened as he watched them go, yet he did not cry aloud like a child, though a child he was.

Outside, the wind was brisk, carrying the freshness of rain. The village roads were muddy and treacherous, and soon the travelers' shoes were caked in thick mud.

Xuexue’s clothing was thin, and after a while in the wind, she began to feel chilled—though the cold made her all the more alert.

Zuo Qiu Liye noticed her shivering but made no gesture of concern, only watching her with amusement.

Suddenly, a scream rang out ahead. A woman stumbled toward them, shouting, "Someone… someone’s dead ahead…" Seeing the group of outsiders, she stammered before hurrying off to alert the villagers.

They moved forward and found a young woman lying by a pile of straw, her eyes wide with terror, her face frozen in a mask of horror. There was a deep gash on her forehead, but the rain had washed away the blood. Her plain face was deathly pale beneath the sky.

"Is that the greedy woman from before?"

"Why do you ask?"

"As they say, wealth should not be flaunted. She violated a cardinal rule. She was bound to draw trouble once she got her silver."

"Does Little Xue know that talent, too, should not be paraded, lest it attract envy?"

"If common sense counts as talent, then I am abundantly learned," she countered softly.

"What a sharp tongue," he replied, his voice soft and seductive, his expression unchanged—yet Xuexue sensed a hint of anger.

Very well, if he disliked her words, she would hold her tongue.

After a long walk, they finally reached a carriage waiting outside the village—muddy roads prevented it from coming any closer.

As Xuexue prepared to board, Zuo Qiu Liye said, "Take off your shoes. They’re filthy." He had already kicked off his own muddied boots, leaving them carelessly on the ground.

Xuexue complied without hesitation; her shoes were simple cloth, and she slipped them off before climbing aboard.

In this era, a woman’s feet were considered precious—a glimpse, even in socks, could ruin her reputation.

Perhaps noticing her bare feet and fearing she’d grow cold, the little fox curled up on top of them, its red eyes blinking as it stared out the window, dazed as if sensing something.

Back in the village, news of the death spread like wildfire, and people gathered around the scene.

Outside the village, several fine horses stood. Atop one, a man played idly with a black folding fan as his kneeling attendants reported in hushed tones.

"Master, it’s confirmed—Zuo Qiu Liye, without doubt."

"Well, well, stealing people right under this king’s nose. How amusing," he said, smiling not in anger but in intrigue, his handsome face gentle and harmless. Yet his deep eyes were shrouded in darkness, impossible to read—was he looking at his fan, or through it toward some distant thing?

"What are your orders, Master?" Qinghe asked.

"Do you think I should show them what I’m made of? Otherwise, I might seem too forgiving." He sounded playful, but the curve of his lips bespoke anything but jest.

"Whatever Master wishes," Qinghe replied.

The ruler of Wu was indeed arrogant, though he did not know the lady’s true identity. But to snatch someone from the very heart of Ji—how discourteous!

"Very well, send a message by pigeon to Miao Jian. He’s to take good care of Little Xi’er. If she misbehaves, bring her here to join us." He looked up at the vast, clear sky, his face suffused with a gentle smile, as open and unguarded as the sun.

"Understood."

Yueji Teahouse.

The grand estate gleamed with lantern light. Amid the brightness, a young girl sat upright in a chair, holding a book.

"Uncle Miao Jian, let me ask you something. Why do you never smile? My mother always said, ‘A smile keeps you young for ten years,’ so I smile all the time." As she spoke, she poked at her own smiling mouth with a finger.

"You’re right, Little Miss. But people are different—some just don’t like to smile."

"Oh, so you don’t like to smile. But why do you still look so young and handsome?" Little Xi’er pressed on.