Chapter 53

Fu Tingjun waited two days without any news, and her heart was filled with anxiety.

Every morning, Madam Lyu would come to keep her company with idle chatter, and in the afternoon, she would bring pastries that Master Lyu had purchased from Guangren Temple. She treated Fu Tingjun with such care that even a biological aunt could not have done more.

Fu Tingjun could not help but find this somewhat strange, and probed Madam Lyu: "I will be troubling you for a long time to come. Your being so courteous makes it seem rather distant between us."

"Not distant at all, not distant at all." Madam Lyu's face was as round as the full moon, and she smiled warmly at Fu Tingjun with great affection. "Ninth Master said you may stay as long as you like, and everything is yours to decide. If you like it here, in a couple of years, we can find you a good match—whether you take a husband into your home or marry out, it will be entirely up to you." She added, "Anyway, we old folks are already past our prime, and this small fortune of ours will be left to you regardless. You needn't worry about lacking a dowry."

Fu Tingjun was shaken to the core.

Zhao Ling—he had thought of everything for her!

She lay face down on the bed, tears streaming uncontrollably, soaking the green bamboo mat.

What did he take her for?

Living in his house, using his hard-earned money to marry someone? Or take in a husband? How could he even think of such a thing!

He was merely afraid that the Fu family would not accept her, and that she would have nowhere to go. There were plenty of nunneries and Taoist temples in Xi'an Prefecture—if worst came to worst, she could simply shave her hair and devote herself to the Buddha before the green lamp.

Then resentment welled up in her heart again.

He thought of everything for others so thoroughly—why did he never think of himself?

He was staying alone at the inn. She had no idea how he was faring now.

There had been no word at all from A Sen. Could it be that Yang Yucheng and Jin Yuanbao had already dispersed their companions and left the city as Zhao Ling had instructed?

Her thoughts raced in all directions, and she was utterly unsettled.

Then A Sen returned with Yang Yucheng.

Fu Tingjun was overjoyed.

This meant that Yang Yucheng was also a man of loyalty and righteousness!

She changed her clothes and went to the main hall.

Unlike the dashing young nobleman from that day, Yang Yucheng today wore short coarse garments, and his skin was a honeyed color from something smeared on it, like a porter doing hard labor at the docks.

His gaze at Fu Tingjun carried a faint hint of wariness.

Fu Tingjun could not help but frown inwardly.

At a time when they should be in the same boat, if Yang Yucheng did not trust her, how could the two of them work together?

A cold severity crept onto her face.

A Sen watched with growing anxiety, afraid that a single harsh word between them would send them scattering in different directions. He nervously tugged at Yang Yucheng's sleeve and whispered, "Brother Yucheng, Miss Fu is truly remarkable—she guessed everything about our affairs. She genuinely wants to help Ninth Master." Then he looked at Fu Tingjun with pleading eyes: "Miss Fu, Brother Yucheng says that once Ninth Master has decided something, no one can change it. He's afraid that if you act rashly, you might ruin Ninth Master's grand plan."

Those were probably not Yang Yucheng's exact words, were they?

He most likely thought of her as an ignorant woman raised deep in the inner chambers, knowing nothing at all—who, under the pretext of Zhao Ling's authority, had ordered A Sen to summon him, and then presumptuously offered her own ideas about rescuing people.

Yet even so, he had still come. This showed that he was not only loyal to Zhao Ling but also held him in great respect!

With this thought, Fu Tingjun's expression softened. She gestured for him to take a seat in the armchair below, and called for A Sen to pour tea.

A Sen, worried they might quarrel, hesitated for a moment before turning to leave.

Yang Yucheng, meanwhile, sat down in the armchair without the slightest ceremony and clasped his hands toward Fu Tingjun in a perfunctory salute. "Miss Fu, I hear from A Sen that you have a clever plan to rescue Ninth Master. I rushed over posthaste—might I ask you to enlighten me?" His words hid needles, and his courtesy was tinged with nonchalance.

He was annoyed that Fu Tingjun had meddled. If not for her, Jin Yuanbao would not have been sent to Huayin to deliver the message. If Jin Yuanbao had not gone to Huayin, he would have had someone to consult with, and would have been more confident about rescuing Ninth Master.

This woman—she was useless at accomplishing things but more than capable of ruining them!

Fu Tingjun, by contrast, grew calmer.

They had only exchanged a brief glance before; this was their first real conversation. Since Yang Yucheng was one of Zhao Ling's right-hand men, he must have some ability. To expect him to suddenly trust a woman like her was far too presumptuous.

What mattered most now was to convince this Yang Yucheng to believe her.

Fu Tingjun smiled faintly, her expression growing even gentler. "Judging by your attire, Young Master Yang, it seems you intend to assist Ninth Master in secret?"

Yang Yucheng had expected her to ask about Zhao Ling's current situation, but instead she brought up something entirely unrelated. He was momentarily taken aback, then nodded. "Indeed!"

Fu Tingjun continued, "And where has Young Master Jin gone? Have you been in contact with him?"

A flash of anger crossed Yang Yucheng's face.

He had urged Jin Yuanbao to stay in Xi'an Prefecture with him, but Jin Yuanbao had insisted on going to Huayin, even saying, "This is Ninth Master's order. I have never disobeyed Ninth Master, and I will not do so this time either."

Thinking of this, his anger flared.

Jin Yuanbao had acted on orders—he could not blame Jin Yuanbao. And since it was Ninth Master's instruction, he could not blame Ninth Master either.

So naturally, that anger was directed at Fu Tingjun instead.

"Brother Yuanbao has gone to Huayin." He looked coldly at Fu Tingjun. "Does Miss Fu not know?" A trace of mockery slipped into his tone.

Fu Tingjun, however, seemed not to hear him. She nodded slightly, a thoughtful expression on her face. "At a time like this, Young Master Jin chooses not to stay and work with Young Master Yang to find a way to help Ninth Master escape, but instead goes to Huayin..."

Yang Yucheng's hands clenched into fists at her words.

But Fu Tingjun continued, "It seems Young Master Jin is a man of deep foresight and careful planning!"

Yang Yucheng was stunned once again.

Jin Yuanbao indeed had no shortage of ideas!

Fu Tingjun spoke slowly, "He must have realized long ago that Ninth Master could not escape, and since you had already made up your mind to share Ninth Master's fate, he had no choice but to go to Huayin. First, to fulfill Ninth Master's last wish; second—" Her voice grew softer, tinged with sorrow. "Second, since you were both going to your deaths, someone needed to be there to collect your remains..."

Her words struck like thunder, leaving Yang Yucheng's mind buzzing.

Yes—he and Yuanbao were as close as brothers. They had weathered countless storms of blood and steel together, and Yuanbao had never once flinched. He was no coward who feared death. How could he abandon Ninth Master at a time like this?

He recalled how, whenever matters arose among the brothers, it was always Yuanbao who came up with the plans.

Perhaps, as this Ninth Miss of the Fu family said, Jin Yuanbao had seen that Ninth Master could not possibly escape with his life, and that was why he had gone to Huayin?

Yang Yucheng looked at Fu Tingjun, his expression gradually turning solemn.

Fu Tingjun breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

She did not know what Jin Yuanbao's true intentions were, but she remembered how Zhao Ling had sent Jin Yuanbao to investigate Mo Yi's background, and how Jin Yuanbao had lived up to Zhao Ling's trust, uncovering every detail about that Gansu Regional Commander's subordinate guerrilla general. Clearly, the man was highly skilled at reconnaissance and analysis. That was why she had made this claim—hoping to catch Yang Yucheng off guard, draw his attention, seize the initiative, and lay the groundwork for what she was about to say next.

Judging by his reaction, she had guessed correctly.

"When I used to watch operas in the past," Fu Tingjun shifted the topic, her face showing admiration, "the people I admired most were those censors who could not be bent by force nor swayed by wealth. I always felt that they 'returned their noble spirit to the void, their loyal hearts shining through the ages'—leaving their names in history, honored in ancestral shrines, the most glorious fate a person could have." Her gaze dimmed. "But one day, my father said that officials who die for the sake of remonstration are nothing but petty men who, seeking a reputation for purity, sacrifice the ruler's righteousness to their own selfish ends."

Yang Yucheng was taken aback.

He had no idea what Fu Tingjun meant by this.

"I was young then, just reading the Records of the Grand Historian, and I thought my father was exaggerating. I argued with him." Her expression grew grave as she spoke slowly. "I can no longer remember exactly what was said, but the question my father asked that left me speechless is burned into my heart to this day." She turned her gaze to Yang Yucheng. "My father asked me—when ministers leave their names in history and are honored in ancestral shrines, what then of the ruler?"

Fu Tingjun's eyes burned like flames as she stared directly into Yang Yucheng's eyes, as if asking him: if it were you, how would you answer?

That fire seemed to leap from her eyes into his throat. Yang Yucheng felt his mouth go dry, and for a long moment, he could not speak.

"I would like to ask Young Master Yang—if Ninth Master escapes with your help, then what?"

Fu Tingjun's voice rang out with the force of a great bronze bell, resounding in his ears.

If Ninth Master escaped, then what?

The other party was a feudal prince whose background they had yet to uncover. The affair had already implicated the Marquis of Yingchuan, the Guangdong Regional Commander, the Mo clan of Luyi... Behind all of these stood true aristocratic houses. Compared to them, those so-called giants of the jianghu were like a firefly beside the bright moon—any one of them, if pulled out, could crush them into dust with a turn of the hand.

Ninth Master was wounded. Even if he could escape Mo Yi's pursuit, what then? Would it draw out the Marquis of Yingchuan, or even that unknown prince?

She was talking about him, wasn't she?

Implying that he was like those censors—sacrificing Zhao Ling's life to fulfill his own sense of loyalty and righteousness.

A woman with such insight.

No wonder Ninth Master regarded her so highly, making sure she was safely settled even in times of crisis.

Yang Yucheng straightened his posture, his expression turning solemn. There was no trace of disrespect left in his demeanor.

"Miss Fu, everything you've said, I understand." He set aside his earlier dismissiveness, speaking with humility and sincerity. "But when Ninth Master makes a decision, he never changes it. I have received great kindness from Ninth Master. Even knowing it is like a moth flying into the flame, I cannot do otherwise. If Miss Fu has any plan that can deliver Ninth Master from danger, I will follow your orders without question and place myself entirely at your disposal." His final words were resolute, his expression firm—no longer the elegant young nobleman, nor the silent, enduring porter, but a man of heroic valor and unyielding spirit.

Fu Tingjun sighed inwardly.

With brothers like this by his side, Zhao Ling could die without regret.

She asked Yang Yucheng, "How many men do you have with you?"

"Only two people," Yang Yucheng said hesitantly. "One is called Sanfu, and the other is Shizhu. Both have served Ninth Master for many years and have received martial arts guidance from him. Even three or five strong men can't get close to them. They know about Ninth Master's situation and insist on staying." He added, "That Mo Yi is no ordinary man; having too many people would only get in the way. However, if Miss Fu needs extra hands, most of the idle gangs in Shaanxi are currently stationed in Xi'an Prefecture. I can hire some with money. After all, it's a matter of commoners against officials—they're fine for running errands, but there are certain things we absolutely cannot let them know about."

Fu Tingjun smiled. "So it seems you, Sanfu, and Shizhu have all embraced the resolve to face death?"

"Of course," Yang Yucheng said, his expression spirited and his courage soaring without a trace of fear. "Even if we can't rescue Ninth Master, we'll make sure Mo Yi suffers a great loss. We're not soft persimmons that he can squeeze however he pleases."

"Very well!" Fu Tingjun was stirred by his fervor and sprang to her feet. "Since we fear not death, what else is there to dread? I have a task I'd like you to carry out, Young Master Yang!"