After repeated attempts to persuade him, Feng Lin had made up his mind to stay put and refused to leave. The officials had no choice but to remain and keep him company.
“You shouldn’t be staying here just for my sake,” Feng Lin remarked indifferently.
Realizing his point, the officials hurried off to investigate the fire’s aftermath and console the affected civilians.
The fire had claimed ten lives and injured thirty-three—ten from burns and smoke inhalation, and twenty-three from trampling and chaos in the panic. Several oxen, horses, and mules had gone missing in the disorder, while the cleanup of burned property was still underway.
The dead were being prepared for transport, while the injured were treated by physicians accompanying the officials. Some unharmed residents were eager to leave, while others, hearing rumors of government compensation, lingered in wait. Outside the post station, the clamor of voices churned in disarray, much of the grief from the disaster already dissipated.
Such is the nature of people—fragile, yet tenaciously enduring.
After changing his clothes, freshening up briefly, and covering his singed hair with a hat, Feng Lin had his arm rebandaged by the physician. When he stepped out again, his entire demeanor seemed transformed.
Perhaps it was the mark of a man who had brushed with death—compared to the bookish air he carried when arriving at the inn the previous night, there was now a sharp edge to him.
His gaze fell upon the gate, where he immediately spotted the horses and carriage ready for departure. Startled, he hurried forward.
“Benefactor! Benefactor, please wait!” he called out, raising a hand.
Steward Cao loosened the reins and paused mid-mount to look back.
“Are you leaving already?” Feng Lin asked, his eyes lingering on the carriage.
The carriage curtain had not yet been drawn, revealing the young lady sitting upright inside.
When he saw her last night in the darkness, her features had been unclear. Now, in daylight, she appeared even younger than he had thought—barely fourteen or fifteen years old. Tall for her age, she seemed all the more slender, her complexion somewhat pale, yet her large eyes remained bright and alert.
It seemed the previous night’s disaster had not greatly affected her.
Then again, with such quick-witted, meticulous, and highly skilled attendants guarding her, there truly was nothing to worry about.
“Ah, Sir, the soldiers have already been handed over to the authorities for custody, and the events of last night have been recorded with their statements. We’ve all signed the testimony as well,” Steward Cao replied. “Does Sir have any further instructions?”
“How dare I presume to give instructions?” Feng Lin shook his head with a sigh, then straightened and bowed deeply toward the carriage. “I once again offer my deepest gratitude for the mistress’s life-saving grace.”
“You exaggerate once more,” Cheng Jiao-niang responded, returning the courtesy from within the carriage. “Fire and water are merciless—we were merely acting in self-preservation.”
Logically, her words made sense. Yet, no matter how he thought about it, something still felt… off.
Ever since he had stepped out of the carriage, things had taken an unusual turn. But what exactly was amiss? He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. If he had to define it, perhaps it was just extraordinarily good luck…
The minor official had deliberately provoked and framed him, but then—whether out of a sense of justice or because their own servants were implicated—someone had stepped forward, causing that schemer to hoist himself by his own petard.
Then, during the fire, it was their large number of strong and capable men who played the decisive role in extinguishing the flames and aiding the victims. Most crucially, they had even captured the masterminds alive. Though the two key culprits had been shot dead on the spot, their bodies alone were evidence enough—dead or alive made little difference.
Had these men not been captured, even if Feng Lin had survived, this man-made disaster would have ultimately been brushed aside with no resolution. Without proof, he would have suffered the arson in vain, emboldening his enemies to plot even greater harm against him.
But now, everything was different. With these prisoners in hand, he needed no lengthy explanations—just presenting the corpses before the public would be more than sufficient!
Though he had never feared death, if one must die, it should be for a worthy cause. To perish in such a manner otherwise… would have been a truly meaningless death.
Feng Lin said nothing more but bowed deeply once again, his posture solemn and respectful.
“You need not be modest—you have earned my deepest gratitude for saving my life,” he said.
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled faintly.
“If we must speak in such terms, then it was not I who saved you, Sir. The one you should thank is not me,” she replied.
Could all of this truly have been orchestrated by someone behind the scenes?
Feng Lin’s head snapped up in disbelief. Overcome with emotion, he took an urgent step forward.
“Who?” he asked, his voice trembling.
“Yourself,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, smiling again before letting the carriage curtain fall.
Myself?
Feng Lin stood frozen, bewildered. What could she possibly mean?
Steward Cao cracked his whip, urging the horses forward as he took the lead.
“Move out!” he called in a drawn-out voice.
The procession advanced—they truly were leaving now.
“My lady, may I ask for your esteemed name?” Feng Lin called out hastily, taking a few quick steps forward.
The carriage and horses continued on without pause, none of the attendants turning back. Soon, they had vanished into the distance.
Only when the road curved did Steward Cao glance back, catching a glimpse of Feng Lin still standing near the post station.
“I’ve heard of this Feng Lin before—he’s a judge in the Bureau of Revenue under the Three Judicial Offices. To enter the Three Judicial Offices and rise to a judgeship in one of its offices, a man must have some skill. Sharp-minded, too. Though he suffers from the usual affliction of those under the Three Judicial Offices: a certain… rigidity of thought.” He turned back, speaking with relaxed amusement before chuckling. “The fellow’s luck was truly exceptional this time, running into our lady. Otherwise, the masters back in the capital might’ve had to prepare another funeral gift…”
Laughter rippled through the group.
“Our master wouldn’t even have occasion to send condolences to a judge like him,” the others joked.
And why would he? Civil and military officials moved in separate spheres, their ranks and status worlds apart—no ordinary interactions between them.
Steward Cao stroked his beard and grinned.
“Ah, Steward Cao,” one of the nearest attendants couldn’t help but lean in closer, lowering his voice. “Why did you tell Master Feng that you were the one who shot those men dead?”
He cast a furtive glance toward the carriage behind them.
“Taking credit for the young mistress’s achievement…”
Steward Cao burst into laughter, his expression tinged with smug satisfaction.
“What do you all understand? You don’t know the young mistress like I do—I’m thoroughly familiar with her ways…” he said, stroking his short beard. “In her eyes, this matter isn’t even worth mentioning, let alone claiming credit for…”
Admiring gazes turned toward him from all around.
“Indeed, indeed! It was you, Steward Cao, who originally fetched the young mistress from Jiang-zhou—no one knows her better than you…”
“And now it’s you escorting her back—truly, no one could be more fitting.”
“Exactly! No wonder our master chose you first when picking someone…”
The group chuckled among themselves, voices hushed in amusement.
Steward Cao maintained a smile on his face, but inwardly, he was roaring with frustration.
What do any of you know?! Do you know what I became “familiar” with when fetching her from Jiang–zhou? Suffering!
“Fitting” that I was chosen? What do any of you understand?! Do you know I went home and cried in my room after being selected?!
I said I shot those men because I understand her? Did you not see how, the moment those people rushed over, the young mistress shoved the bow straight into my hands?!
The meaning was obvious—she didn’t want it known! If you can’t even grasp that, no wonder I’m the steward and you’re just attendants!
“Why doesn’t the young mistress want anyone to know it was her doing? Ah, come to think of it—aside from reviving the dead, she actually has such remarkable archery skills!” An attendant mused, stroking his chin before nodding approvingly. “Truly worthy of the Zhou family’s bloodline…”
Truly worthy of the Zhou family’s bloodline…
Steward Cao overheard this, and an odd feeling crept into his heart. He couldn’t help but glance back at the carriage.
Since when had that little mistress—once a shameful secret the Zhou family refused to even acknowledge—become someone they could take pride in?
Amid the banter, a man’s shrill scream suddenly rose from the rear of the procession before being abruptly cut short.
The attendants turned toward the sound and saw it came from the Wang family’s carriage at the very back.
“What’s wrong with the young mistress Wang this time?” someone snickered in a hushed tone.
This provoked muffled laughter from the group.
Steward Cao chuckled as well, but soon schooled his expression into sternness.
“Enough nonsense,” he chided half-seriously. After all, Young Master Wang was still a young master—and potentially the mistress’s future husband. No matter how much they privately scorned him, appearances had to be maintained.
This was for the mistress’s dignity.
At this thought, he smirked again and jerked his chin toward the rear.
“…As for why we shouldn’t let others know it was the mistress’s doing?” he said. “Young Master Wang saw it and nearly died of fright. He just managed to regain consciousness, and he’s still dazed.”
Recalling the earlier incident, the attendants burst into laughter once more.
“That’s just because he’s spineless,” they remarked.
“His cowardice is one thing,” Steward Cao said, then sighed meaningfully. “But the mistress, after all… is still a young lady.”
He left the rest unsaid, but everyone understood.
A young lady who killed—now that was something that would inevitably unsettle people.
“I don’t care, I don’t care! I won’t travel with her anymore—I never want to see her again!”
Wang Shi’qi-lang clutched his blanket and shrieked.
He had been repeating these words nonstop since regaining consciousness. The old servant had tried every method to calm him, but he was no nursemaid skilled in coaxing children. Watching the young master on the verge of throwing a tantrum, the old servant felt a splitting headache coming on.
“Young Master,” he said through gritted teeth, “if you keep behaving like this and word gets back to Lady Cheng, she will be furious.”
Lady Cheng!
Furious!
Wang Shi’qi-lang’s mind instantly conjured up the image of a man collapsing backward, an arrow piercing his throat—and then, as that man fell, another arrow came flying straight toward him…
“Ah, Mother—!” With a wail, he yanked the blanket over his head and curled into a trembling ball in the corner of the carriage.
Silence finally settled inside the carriage. The old servant exhaled in relief—but then sighed again, his brow furrowing.
What were they to do about this…?
A husband terrified of his wife—how could this marriage ever come to pass?
As the sun set and rose again, an autumn wind in late October swept through the courtyard, leaving a fresh layer of fallen leaves in its wake. The bare branches swayed, stripped of their foliage.
A pair of wooden clogs deliberately crunched through the dried leaves, producing a rhythmic sound.
“Miss, don’t make a mess.”
A maid in the courtyard smiled as she chided gently.
Chen Dan-niang hitched up her skirts and clattered noisily toward the door of the house.
Inside, Old Master Chen was sipping tea and conversing with Chen Shao, a wood backgammon board laid out between them.
“…To think the matter has escalated so far? The Taicang Circuit Fiscal Commissioner’s Office has grown utterly brazen…” Old Master Chen remarked.
Chen Shao nodded. Though it had been hours since court adjourned, traces of anger still lingered on his face.
“All because the Gao family backs them—their reach now extends even to the Fiscal Commissioner’s Office! Such shameless greed!” he said. “Feng Lin indeed brought a coffin and camped at the post station, refusing to leave. Reports say his left arm may never fully recover.”
Old Master Chen sighed.
“That fool Feng truly has the worst luck,” he said.
“Though one might argue he’s fortunate—not only did he survive, but he also secured evidence,” Chen Shao countered. “Otherwise, that would’ve been true misfortune.”
Old Master Chen nodded and exhaled slowly.
“And it was only because passersby intervened out of righteous indignation that things turned out this way?” he asked again.
Chen Shao confirmed with a nod.
“The post station was crowded that day due to the impending rain. Call it the Taicang Circuit conspirators’ own ill luck—every hand in that station turned against them, united in force,” he explained.
Old Master Chen gave a noncommittal oh and fell silent.
“…His Majesty was furious and has already ordered the Censorate to arrest those involved. Imperial troops stationed in Taiqing Road have also been mobilized to assist… Let’s see how the Gao family wriggles out of this one… Though I suspect they won’t dare show their faces… But if they do…” Chen Shao continued.
Old Master Chen, however, seemed distracted, idly toying with a game piece on the board.
It was said that passersby helped extinguish the fire and even shot two fleeing clerks from the Taicang Circuit Fiscal Commissioner’s Office… Those scoundrels certainly wouldn’t have fled openly—they must have slipped away stealthily. Yet amid such chaos, to strike with lethal precision… What remarkable skill…
Passersby…
Passersby…
Suddenly, Old Master Chen straightened up abruptly, startling Chen Shao mid-sentence.
“How long has Lady Cheng been gone?” he demanded.
