Chapter 92

When Lord Jiang, the official in charge of patrol and defense in Zhangye City, arrived breathless and wiping sweat from his brow, Physician Zhu of Huichun Hall was crouched on the ground taking Feng Dahu's pulse. Seeing Lord Jiang, Physician Zhu rose with relief and hurried over to greet him, abandoning Feng Dahu.

"Lord Jiang, you've finally come!" Physician Zhu clasped his hands in salute. "I only treat ailments like children's convulsions. Injuries like Master Feng's are beyond my expertise—I truly am powerless. Please find a better physician for Master Feng."

Physician Zhu ran an apothecary in Zhangye City, and Lord Jiang oversaw the city's patrol and defense—the two were acquainted. But when Lord Jiang thought of how Feng Dahu was the brother-in-law of the Vice Commander, and that Zhao Ling was connected to the Marquis of Yingchuan, his heart felt as bitter as if he'd swallowed a gallbladder. He had no mood for pleasantries with Physician Zhu and strode straight into the inner chamber.

Feng Dahu lay in a pool of blood. Flesh was missing from his left cheek, buttocks, thigh, and calf—even four fingers of his left hand were gone. The sight was horrifying.

Lord Jiang quickly stepped back out and asked Physician Zhu, "How serious are Feng Dahu's injuries?"

Physician Zhu was already regretting his decision.

When the yamen runner had come to fetch him, he'd been half-asleep. He'd assumed it was the usual brawling injury case—something he could treat or decline with a few words. He never expected the man lying there to be Feng Dahu.

Feng Dahu was clearly at death's door. But if he died, given the ferocity of his sister—who was the concubine of Vice Commander Lord Liu—Physician Zhu would hardly escape blame for failing to save him!

Hearing Lord Jiang's question, Physician Zhu strolled leisurely toward the door and announced loudly, "Master Feng's injuries are all external. What he needs most now is a physician skilled in trauma to apply hemostatic powder. I usually treat children's ailments and don't carry such medicine—there's no time to prepare it now. Lord Jiang, you'd best find a proper physician for Master Feng! If we delay any longer, his condition will only worsen."

His voice carried all the way outside, and the onlookers murmured among themselves again.

Lord Jiang cursed Physician Zhu for his cunning.

Did he really think Feng Dahu's condition could be cured with a bit of hemostatic powder?

This Physician Zhu was clearly afraid that if Feng Dahu died, the Feng family would hold him accountable—so he was spouting nonsense. When the Feng family came asking, he'd simply insist that the yamen's delay had cost Feng Dahu his chance at treatment, shifting all the blame onto the yamen runners.

But Lord Jiang couldn't refute his reasoning.

From the time the report was filed to now, nearly two hours had passed, and they still hadn't taken Feng Dahu to seek medical treatment. If the Feng family pressed the matter, the yamen would indeed have no defense.

With this thought, he shot a fierce glare at the lead runner, but out of the corner of his eye, he noticed two fierce wolfhounds lying in the courtyard.

Perhaps they were full, for the two dogs were resting with their eyes closed.

These were the beasts that had mauled Feng Dahu, weren't they?

If not for these two animals, why would they be in such a predicament? Why would he be standing at the scene, unsure how to handle the situation?

"Dashan," he called to the lead runner, "beat those two beasts to death with clubs."

At least it would give the Feng family some measure of satisfaction.

Dashan hesitated for a moment, then said quietly, "Should we inform the victim's family first?"

Lord Jiang grew even more irritated at this. But then he thought of the Marquis of Yingchuan... and his anger deflated.

"Forget it. Tie up those two dogs properly—don't let them run off, and don't let them die either." He said sullenly.

Dashan acknowledged the order, then asked, "And what about Master Feng's injuries..."

Leaving him untreated would only cause more trouble.

"Carry him to Jici Hall," Lord Jiang said impatiently. "Do I need to teach you everything?"

Jici Hall was the largest apothecary in Zhangye City, property of the Marquis of Xiping's family.

Dashan understood and immediately shouted orders for his men to move the man.

Some runners took down a door to use as a stretcher, others lifted the wounded man—the courtyard erupted in chaos.

Lord Jiang lowered his voice and instructed Dashan: "Tell the brothers—if they want to live, push the time of the report back by one hour."

"Understood, sir." Dashan nodded knowingly, though he felt little confidence.

Lord Jiang gave a slight nod, then called out, "Which one of you is Zheng San?"

Zheng San stepped forward hastily and bowed: "That would be me!"

"Something like this has happened, so you'll need to come to the yamen with us as well." Lord Jiang's tone was genial. "Tell us what happened, affix your seal, and you can go home."

Zheng San's heart trembled.

The yamen gates open southward—without money or influence, don't bother entering.

But at this point, he had no choice but to comply.

He steeled himself and answered, "Yes, sir."

Two yamen runners carried Feng Dahu out on a door panel taken from Fu Tingjun's kitchen, with Lord Jiang, Zheng San, and the two large wolfhounds following behind.

The sky was gradually growing light.

The crowd of onlookers parted to make way, everyone standing on tiptoe to get a look, exclamations rising and falling in succession.

"How terrifying—did you see that? Half his face was bitten off."

"Is Feng Dahu alive or dead?"

"Physician Zhu is there—we can ask Physician Zhu later."

Two sedan chairs approached from the opposite direction. One of them was a green woolen Fujian official's sedan, with a serving woman accompanying it on each side.

Someone in the crowd, which had already begun to disperse, recognized one of the serving women.

"It's the wife of Assistant Commander Wang, who guards Zhuanglang Garrison."

"And the other is Zheng Sanniang, who serves Miss Fu."

The crowd gathered around again.

Lord Jiang inwardly groaned.

The sedan chairs had already come to a stop, blocking Lord Jiang's path.

The serving woman accompanying the sedan lifted the curtain. Madam Wang stepped out first, her expression stern and solemn, followed by Fu Tingjun, who had a handkerchief draped over her head.

"Miss!" Zheng San said excitedly, stepping forward.

He first bowed to Fu Tingjun, then to Madam Wang: "Thank goodness you weren't at home—otherwise... even if I died a hundred times, a thousand times, it wouldn't be enough!" He lowered his head in shame.

"What does this have to do with you?" Fu Tingjun had not yet spoken when Madam Wang said indignantly, "Those thieves went to steal from your house—how could that possibly be your fault?" As she spoke, she fixed Lord Jiang with a stern glare. "Lord Jiang, someone told me that the Zhao residence was burglarized. What exactly is going on here?"

Dawn had just broken, and the general's mansion was still under curfew—who had gone to inform Madam Wang?

Lord Jiang sighed inwardly and recounted the sequence of events. Naturally, he would not—and could not—say anything about whether Feng Dahu had gone there for illicit purposes, as there was no solid evidence for such claims.

Madam Wang wore a look of surprise: "You're saying the one who broke into the Zhao residence was Feng Dahu? That—that's impossible! He's the brother of Deputy General Liu's concubine! Wouldn't that be knowingly breaking the law?"

Lord Jiang gave a bitter smile.

Everyone knew Feng Dahu terrorized Zhangye—wasn't Madam Wang asking a question she already knew the answer to?

Anyway, when gods fight, the little ghosts suffer.

He just wanted to get Feng Dahu to the Hall of Compassion as quickly as possible, so that when the Feng family came asking questions, he'd have something to deflect the blame.

"Madam Wang, Feng Dahu was bitten by the Zhao family's wolfhounds and needs to be taken to the Hall of Compassion for treatment as soon as possible..."

Lord Jiang stood with his hands at his sides, but inwardly he was screaming: Madam Wang, please stop us! That way, Feng Dahu's matter won't have anything to do with us!

"So that's how it is!" Madam Wang said with sympathy. "Then you'd better hurry to the Hall of Compassion! Have Zheng San accompany us back to see if anything has been stolen from the house."

Lord Jiang stared at Madam Wang in astonishment.

Madam Wang stood there without moving.

As if telling him: if you don't release Zheng San to me, I won't make way.

The consequence of not making way was that Feng Dahu would die, and then the blame for Feng Dahu's death would fall on Lord Jiang.

Lord Jiang cursed inwardly, but dared not show the slightest disrespect on his face. He handed Zheng San over to Madam Wang, then carried Feng Dahu away, leading the two wolfhounds, and left the back street.

Zheng San breathed a sigh of relief.

Madam Wang's personal attendant urged the crowd: "Disperse now, everyone disperse!"

Some people drifted away, while others came forward to greet Fu Tingjun and Madam Wang: "Oh my, thank goodness you weren't home—if you had been, you'd have been scared half to death."

It was Madam Qi, who loved to talk.

Fu Tingjun thought of the glimpse she'd caught of Feng Dahu lying on the door panel and nodded with lingering fear: "Indeed! Thank heavens for the Bodhisattva's protection."

Madam Qi offered Fu Tingjun some advice: "A house that's been broken into by robbers carries a murderous aura. You'd best invite a Daoist priest to perform a ritual. I know Daoist Shanning from Seven Stars Temple—how about I accompany you there tomorrow to ask him to drive out the evil spirits and take a look at the feng shui? You've had no peace these past days—maybe you've offended something!"

The thought that Feng Dahu had crept into her residence left Fu Tingjun feeling unsettled. Combined with the fact that she had inadvertently provoked this Feng Dahu and stirred up all sorts of trouble for no reason, she was rather tempted. Just as she was about to say something, Zheng San suddenly cried out: "Miss, Madam, look..."

In the light of dawn, many neighbors on the back street saw two furtive men climbing over the wall and slipping out of Mo Yi's residence.

"Really, really..." Madam Wang's face flushed crimson. "Shameless! Utterly shameless!"

Fu Tingjun was dumbfounded, staring blankly as the two figures disappeared into the alley next door.

"Heavens! I never imagined Concubine Lu would do such a thing!" Madam Qi's shrill voice carried a hint of excitement.

There were even those who hadn't yet dispersed, saying, "I caught a glimpse of that man—he looked like Deng Xiaoxian from Drum Tower Street. That Deng Xiaoxian who makes his living off women."

"Surely not!" someone retorted. "Didn't Deng Xiaoxian latch onto that singing girl White Lotus? How could he be mixed up with Concubine Lu now?"

"That's where you're wrong," someone chuckled. "Can that White Lotus compare to Concubine Lu? Setting everything else aside, Concubine Lu at least has silver in her hands! Isn't Deng Xiaoxian's whole game with those women just for money?"

"Enough!" Madam Wang barked. "A pack of nonsense. Aren't you afraid your tongues will rot?"

Some admired Madam Wang's bluntness and forthrightness, while others resented her self-righteous airs.

"Madam Wang, you can't say that. Two men climbed over the wall and out of Concubine Lu's residence—that's a fact, isn't it? We haven't uttered a single word of fabrication! Surely you don't think that in broad daylight, a respectable man would abandon the front gate and choose to scale a wall instead?"