After that day, Shi Wuduan no longer had the time to show Bai Li all the places on his little “Illustrated Guide to Guji Streetfood.” His work started to get busy.
The defenses around Guji City looked lax from the outside but were in truth very sound. Gu Huaiyang’s ambitions were digging their way out of the earth like a groundhog, slightly disturbing the topsoil as it poked its head out for a look, carefully revealing a tiny hint of its presence.
There hadn’t even been time for the lands that the King of Guji had seized from the city lord to be surveyed before they’d changed hands. And, to top it off, Gu Huaiyang invited all the wealthy landowners and merchants to a “merry” feast, held right in his own heavily defended military barracks.
Then, he dealt with a number of “traitors” right then and there, amongst them was Wang Ergou, who’d stabbed his previous employer to death — Gu Huaiyang believed that the middle of the road was the best place to be, that one should never go too far in any direction. But although it was said that without ruthlessness there can be no greatness and that a great man must be adaptable and shameless to some extent, Wang Ergou had really taken it too far with his vile actions.
Wang Ergou blathered and screamed that he was a “meritorious subject” as he was publicly sawed in half.
These people who slept in dens piled high with silver and gold each night, whether or not they were literate, lived by the words “a gentleman keeps their distance from the kitchen.” They’d never even seen the butchering of livestock, how could they stomach such a gory scene? Two fainted on the spot, three vomited, and one suffered a bout of some strange affliction, his hands and feet went cold, and his eyes stared blankly ahead.
At the feast, Shi Wuduan personally raised his cup in a toast as he offered reassurance, “There’s no need to be afraid, everyone. My eldest brother is here to exterminate the bandits on the king’s orders. Now that they are dead already, everyone will have the chance to live in peace — hm? But what’s the matter, Sir Jiang? Why does your hand tremble so? Someone come and fill Sir Jiang’s cup again.”
A burly man who’d just wiped the blood from his blade entered the tent, trailing in the scent of iron, and wordlessly picked up the cup of poor Sir Jiang, who rattled like a thin sapling in a storm, filling it to the brim with wine.
Sir Jiang miraculously stopped shaking — his eyes had already rolled into the back of his head.
Gu Huaiyang sighed bitterly, “If only I’d come sooner, I could’ve spared you all this fright. My sins are truly inexcusable; I’ll drink a cup of penalty wine.”
Shi Wuduan drank a cup as well then continued, “No need to look so serious everyone. This’s a good thing. From now on, my brothers will be setting roots in Guji City and counting on everyone’s support. The soldiers and citizens must be as one. As long as my eldest brother is here to defend the city, we’ll promise there won’t be any more traitors.”
Before he’d finished saying his piece, Lu Yunzhou fiercely slapped his sword, gleaming with cold light, onto the table. The sudden noise nearly gave the elderly gentlemen heart palpitations. Lu Yunzhou coldly declared, “Those who dare resist will be killed without mercy!”
The old men who sat around at the table like lumps of meat on the chopping board were silent as the grave. But Shi Wuduan began to chuckle as he gently said, “With third brother’s sword here, I don’t think there’ll be any dissidents so unwise as to disturb the peace.”
He heavily emphasized the words “dissidents” and “unwise.” The owner of Guji City’s largest tea establishment reacted the quickest. He very “wisely” expressed that he was merely a humble merchant and had nothing at all to do with anything so despicable as “dissidents.” And for the safety of the common people, he was willing to empty his coffers to support the Redscarf Army’s financial needs.
Aside from Sir Jiang, whose eyes were still rolled back, none of the others wanted to be labeled as “dissidents” and “split in half,” so they all began fervently expressing their confidence in Gu Huaiyang’s leadership — as for Sir Jiang, he hadn’t said a word. Surely it was because he was simply overwhelmed with gratitude, so they took it as tacit agreement.
That was how Gu Huaiyang threatened and terrorized his way into becoming “Master Gu,” so swiftly that he must’ve mastered the art of quick-change.
He promptly sent for stationery and put black ink on white paper. It was passed around the table, signed and stamped by each person. Afterwards, unafraid that these old men would renege on their pledge, Master Gu declared that the few old gentlemen who’d overly imbibed should order their families to send an escort to see them home. He then reminded them to bring their land titles and property deeds, and things of similar importance, so that they could be protected from thieves and bandits in General Gu’s safekeeping.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
One piece of collateral in exchange for one person’s life — using “daylight robbery” to describe his methods was an utter understatement.
Zbcfs, gjalbcr, agbbqr, ybgvfg obgalolmjalbcr, la jii tjv ab rajga yflcu jmmeweijafv yla ys yla.
Gfjilcu klat atf qfbqif rfca ogbw Ccdlcu ofii ktbiis ecvfg Vtl Qevejc’r qegnlfk. Ktbrf wlrfgjyif rbeir tjv yffc qbilafis kfimbwfv lcab atf mlas eqbc atflg jgglnji ja atf ujafr. Ktfs’v yf agfjafv ab klcf jcv vjcmf fnfgs vjs, qilfv klat ubbv obbv jcv vglcx, jcv ijnlrtfv klat joofmalbc ys atf kfii-agjlcfv yfjealfr ogbw Kfcvfg Ujgjvlrf. Ktfs kfgf qgjmalmjiis ilnlcu bc mibev clcf.
There was no one keeping them under house arrest and no one torturing them either. The troops who’d come here ready to fight suddenly found that they’d really come to have a taste of heaven. Several days later, Guji City began to enter winter in earnest. Light snow dusted the city, and the streets became far sparser, those who opened their doors would be assailed by gusts of cold wind rolling down the mountain. No one could be bothered to move when they could be inside instead, listening to little ditties, sitting around a cozy fireplace, warming wine atop the flames.
It was often said that it was easier to escape a spear in the day than an arrow in the night… and it was easier to flee an arrow in the night than the soft blade of deadly flowers.
Every moment that Shi Wuduan spent outside, building social bridges, was a moment that Bai Li spent shut in his room. At first, Li Si-niang, concerned that Shi Wuduan was neglecting his guest, would invite him out to spend time with their compatriots, but Bai Li refused every time. As soon as Shi Wuduan left his sight, he hardened into a chunk of icy rock.
Even though she’d been stonewalled, Li Si-niang didn’t take it to heart. She thought that it was only natural for someone like Bai Li to hold himself aloof from mundane trammels and have odd eccentricities.
Bai Li spent day after day holed up inside. He’d poured a cup of water on the surface of a bronze mirror, where it formed a thin membrane over its surface. The shallow pool of water rippled and revealed an image of Shi Wuduan.
Bai Li sat there like he was nailed to the spot. He could stare at the mirror unmovingly for hours on end, watching Shi Wuduan weave his way amongst various groups of people. He watched every expression that flitted through his eye, every smile that tugged at the corner of his lips, every tiny minutiae like he was making up for all those years of lost time.
It was always late by the time Shi Wuduan returned. It was snowing again on that wintry night; the falling snow and the occasional crack of shattering branches could be heard from inside. The northern winds sent shutters banging against the walls and snuck its icy tendrils, through the cracks of doors and windows, into warm, inviting homes.
Shi Wuduan left Tender Paradise and on the road, learned that the people sent by the King of Anqing were not all useless after all. Some of them had seen the writing on the wall and braved the snow to report back to the King of Anqing.
Gu Huaiyang, worried they’d become suspicious, made sure to send a few people to waylay them on the road. After they’d been toyed with for a while, they were allowed to escape. It wouldn’t take long before Cui Hu’s paranoia would drive him to make a personal visit.
Shi Wuduan turned the matter over in his mind as he made his way home. He was rather cold by the time he returned and, upon nightfall, his old illness flared up. He tossed and turned, his sleep disturbed by fits of coughing. He was hazy and half-conscious when the door was gently opened. The enterer bore a small candle aloft, its flame mysteriously still despite the roaring winds outside.
Bai Li closed the door with his foot, looked at Shi Wuduan, who had been reduced by a cold breeze to a huddled ball of blankets, and said, “I heard you coughing.”
He gently let his candle float to the floor. Shi Wuduan sat up in shock as the candle slowly grew till it was a square foot in size, snuggled right against his bed. He stretched out his hand, feeling the warmth it radiated. He then attempted to poke the eerily still flame but his finger went right through it. It wasn’t hot, on the contrary, it felt like he’d submerged his hand in warm water.
“What is this?”
“Just a little trick,” Bai Li replied. He touched Shi Wuduan’s forehead and asked, “Did you catch a cold?”
“No. It’s just a condition left behind from drinking Fenglu Dew when I was younger, it’s nothing,” Shi Wuduan answered casually. “Back then, I didn’t really go out during the winter. Now that I’m drifting about the big wide world though, I’ve got no choice but to step out the door.”
You could also stop drifting about the world, Bai Li thought. He moved a chair over and sat by Shi Wuduan’s bed. He waved a hand over the flame, dimming its light. It was no longer so blinding, yet it remained just as warm. Bai Li said, “Go back to sleep. As long as I’m here, it won’t go out.”
Shi Wuduan perplexedly stared at him for a moment before asking, “What’re you sitting here for?”
Bai Li softly replied, “Your coughing here was making me anxious. I’ll watch over you as you sleep.”
Shi Wuduan said, “If I wake up in the middle of the night and see a door god planted right next to me, the fright will shave several years off my life.”
Bai Li remained silent.
Shi Wuduan sighed, lamenting that the bigger this fellow got, the harder he was to deal with. He scooted inward and lifted the sheets, saying, “Come on.”
Bai Li looked at him, unmoving.
Shi Wuduan reiterated, “Hurry up, it’s getting colder already.”
Only then did Bai Li move, so slowly his joints seemed rusted over, to join Shi Wuduan on the bed. He lied there like a stiff corpse. After a moment, he noticed Shi Wuduan’s coughing peter out and his restlessness die down as he gradually slipped into sleep. He couldn’t resist asking, “I… said all that to you, and you still let me sleep here, you’re not afraid of me?”
Shi Wuduan burrowed into the pillows and mumbled, “If I feared even you, wouldn’t I be a rabbit?”
Bai Li slowly looked his way, his eyes shining brilliantly in the dark, and asked, “Then, are you angry with me?”
Shi Wuduan’s head cleared up somewhat, thanks to Bai Li’s constant disruption. He opened his eyes, scanning him, and answered, “It’s passed already.”
Bai Li fell into a daze. He remembered that year that while Shi Wuduan had carried him as he trudged out the cave with all his strength, he’d asked, “Aren’t you upset that I tricked you?” and he’d been just as blase then as he was now, thoughtlessly tossing out the words, “There’s no time right now. Once we’ve escaped and found my shifu, I’ll get upset then.”
Bai Li slowly turned his body to the side and laid a hand on Shi Wuduan’s waist, slowly drawing him near, but his hand was slapped away, “Stop moving.”
Thus Bai Li shuffled himself closer until he could feel the other’s breath brushing past his neck; a sensation that was more than physically ticklish. His heart had lightened, trembling with each beat.
“Wuduan….” he said, almost at a loss for words. The seconds dragged before he finally said, “Today, one of the girls in Tender Paradise had her hand severed and hung from a door frame. You covered up the incident and only had it quietly investigated, is that right?”
Shi Wuduan’s eyes snapped open.
Bai Li said tonelessly, “That woman was the same one who’d grabbed your sleeve that day when we went to Tender Paradise together.”
“How did you know?”
“I saw it,” Bai Li said. “You’re not afraid it was me? I hate it when other people look at you, so much I almost wish I could gouge their eyes out. I hate it when other people touch you, because I’m the only one allowed to hug you… I wanted to cut her hands and eyes off. Do you really not suspect me?”
Shi Wuduan startled, asked, “What do you mean? Are you telling me that you’re the one who did it?”
“It wasn’t me.” Bai Li replied after a long moment.
“Then what are you blathering on about?” Shi Wuduan asked, baffled.
“You really don’t suspect me?” Bai Li’s tone had a touch of urgency as he asked, “Back then, for every strange thing that happened in Cangyun Valley, Bai Ziyi would always…”
Shi Wuduan interrupted him incredulously, “Do I look like your stepmother to you?”
Bai Li choked.
Shi Wuduan thought for a moment and figured it made sense if all the demons sticking to Bai Li were affecting his mind. That, plus all the time that Bai Li spent inside like he was brooding an egg, probably meant that he had nothing better to do than let his thoughts wander onto wild paths. So he said softly, “Little Li-zi, don’t work yourself up over nothing.”
After a pause, he added, “I know that right now a lot of your words and actions don’t stem from your own intent… and those demons, regardless of how you got them, I can only imagine how painful it must be to be suppressing them all the time. I’ll help you come up with a solution, don’t worry.”
Bai Li didn’t say any more. He slowly moved just a bit closer and rested his chin on top of Shi Wuduan’s head.
Shortly later, Shi Wuduan’s breathing evened out. He’d fallen asleep. Bai Li carefully wrapped his arms around him and thought, how are you so sure I’m not acting on my own intention?
How are you so sure I didn’t cut that woman’s hand off?
You’re clearly suspicious already, how do you manage to think the best of me?
How are you so sure I’m not….
Little Li-zi that because his love is greater than his doubt!~
Thanks for the chapter<3
That’s a thought ! 👏
I agree +1
💙💙💙
Don’t doubt little Li-Zi 🥺
Thank u Translatorr sama!!
Kudos to this translation, love the story.
Bai Li, you’d better not have cut that poor girl’s hand off! She’s just a sex worker, and probably enslaved as well, she’s just doing what she’s being ordered to do.