Chapter 2610 - 11-23

Chapter 11: The Fifth Grandmaster?

Translator: Nyoi_Bo_Studio Editor: Nyoi_Bo_Studio

Fei Jie slowly frowned. Because he believed that the blind man was possessed of great power, he never considered 'the potential problems with Fan Xian's zhenqi training. And yet today, while checking his pulse, he discovered something unusual.

Seeing his usually obscene teacher being all cautious, Fan Xian realized too that something was wrong. Grinning, he asked: "Is there a problem?"

"Look at you, grinning like that; aren't you afraid of becoming too obsessed?" Fei Jie stared at him, continuing, "The last time, I only knew the zhenqi you were training with was tremendous, but never did I imagine it to be like this."

Fan Xian scratched his head: "Tremendous? Tremendous how?"

Fei Jie answered seriously: "Quite tremendous."

Fan Xian looked back, also seriously: "Teacher, we're just talking nonsense here."

...

...

Fei Jie is an expert at poisoning, not a grandmaster of martial arts, so naturally he could not determine what sort of ability Fan Xian's nameless zhenqi was. He could, however, very much feel the dangerous power of the zhenqi emitting from the child's body. After some thought, he urged Fan Xian to go find Wu Zhu, but unexpectedly, Fan Xian sighed sadly and said that Uncle Wu Zhu only listened to what his mother said and gave the book to him; he himself had never trained and also refused to say too much on the matter.

Fei Jie raged: "Master Wu is being too unreasonable. You are the Young Master of his house; why did he, instead of instructing you himself, make you learn such a dangerous ability without any guidance?"

For the past year, he had taken this five-year-old as his greatest source of consolation during his later years in life. Even more than that, he hoped Fan Xian would carry his mantle in the future and glorify all he had learned. For those reasons, Fei Jie became angry at the blind Wu Zhu when he heard this.

"Is Uncle Wu Zhu really strong?" Fan Xian squinted as he asked his question, looking like a little fox.

"Of course." Fei Jie leisurely thought of the past. "It's just that not that many people in this world know of Master Wu's existence… Have you heard of the Four Great Grandmasters?"

Of course Fan Xian had heard of them. In today's world, worshipped by the common people like gods, they were the Four Great Grandmasters whose martial arts' prowess reigned supreme. Counting on one hand, there were two in the Kingdom of Qing, one in the Kingdom of North Qi, and another in Eastern Yi City.

In the current world, Qing had already held an overwhelming advantage, having being led by its emperor. But strangely, after the political bloodshed from the year before, the nation prospered while the emperor became rather quiet and no longer attempted to expand his territory. But that aside, it was only natural for the strongest nation to have two of the strongest people.

"Indeed, we currently have two of the Grandmasters residing here." Fei Jie laughed coolly: "Humans are foolish; they only recognize the strength in fighting. Never would they realize that if one's skill with poison were to reach otherworldly proficiency, he too could be a grandmaster…"

Fan Xian suddenly cleared his throat to stop his teacher's gloating.

"… If we exclude the most mysterious temple, Qing has two of the Four Great Grandmasters, one of them being the younger brother of the teacher of the current Jingdu Commander of Defense, Ye Liuyun."

Fan Xian opened his eyes wide, thinking that this was a pretty big reputation. But the defense force was in charge of safety for the entire region, the most important position. That commander's teacher's… younger brother, Ye Liuyun or whatever, must have been very strong.

"There's another strong one, and he supposedly lives in the royal palace, though no one has seen him."

"Hey, teacher, we were talking about Uncle Wu Zhu."

"What's the hurry?" Fei Jie gave Fan Xian another stare, "the one named Ye Liuyun lived through seventeen duels without losing a single one. But once, when your mother came to the city for the first time, she beat the current Commander of Defense to a pulp. That commander, named Ye Zhong, happens to be Ye Liuyun's nephew, and for that reason he wanted to stir up trouble for your mother."

Fan Xian was stunned. He had no idea that the mother he never saw was once such an arrogant character.

Fei Jie chuckled: "but something happened later; Ye Liuyun suddenly stopped troubling your mother, and Ye Zhong even went to Taiping Temple to pour tea for her and apologize."

"Huh?"

"No one knows what happened; it's an absolute mystery. But I'm guessing Ye Liuyun and Master Wu Zhu fought once behind the palace walls. Master Wu is your mother's servant, so it's not unusual for him to come out and deal with such things." Fei Jie raised the teacup that was by his hand and took a sip.

"Who won in the end?" Fan Xian's eyes were full of curiosity. While he knew that Wu Zhu was strong, he did not expect the blind man to have the experience of dueling one of the Four Great Grand Masters, Ye Liuyun.

"No one knows, but it was probably a draw." Fei Jie chuckled.

"Apparently, after he went back to his sword school, he trained his swordsmanship for half a year while blindfolded. After that, he gave up the sword and picked up a series of ancient sanshou, truly becoming a grandmaster. Thinking back, that battle must have brought him much enlightenment.."

Fan Xian propped up his little face, thinking, "Four Great Grandmasters? Does that mean Wu Zhu is the fifth?"

Fan Xian's eyes sparkled in awe, in awe of the fact that his own blind servant would be so ridiculously strong! When he ventures out into the world someday, who would he have to be afraid of?

Suddenly he had a question. "Teacher, didn't you say these things are secret? How do you know all this?"

Fei Jie said coolly, "I'm a high-ranking official in the Supervising Department. For us, there are no secrets in this world."

For some reason, Fan Xian had always been interested in the strong people of this world, as if some years later he would run into one of them, which is why he asked, "The other three, Teacher; have you seen them?"

"The other one in Qing only exists in legends; I suspect he is in the royal palace, but no one has actually seen him." Fei Jie said: "as for the Grandmaster of North Qi, that would be their Head Priest, that perverted bald man named Ku He."

"Bald?" Fan Xian assumed that a world without Buddhism wouldn't have monks..

"A monk; I heard Ku He was once a pilgrim, kneeling on the temple steps for three months, subsisting on the cold and dew. Somehow, he managed to move those in the temple, and thus received divine theology and became a grandmaster." Fei Jie spat out in disgust, appearing to be jealous of the pilgrim named Ku He: "you can tell that baldy is a liar from a glance."

"Temple?"

"Temple; the place is a temple."

"Teacher, you're talking nonsense again."

"… The temple is the most mysterious existence on the continent; supposedly it was the place where our ancestors worshipped. But unfortunately, other than the extremely fortunate bastards, no one could find exactly where it is, and so no one knows what it is like inside."

"Maybe… this temple doesn't exist at all?"

Fei Jie hit Fan Xian's small head hard: "I don't care if you mess around every day, but how dare you be so disrespectful towards such a holy place!"

Fan Xian held his head and looked at his teacher in shock, first from the fact that his teacher, who kills with poison without blinking, turned out to hold reverence towards a temple, and second, from the fact that he himself accepted what he heard so easily, superstitious things like Four Great Grandmasters and temples.

"Looks like I fit in this world after all."

Chapter 12: Overpowering Qi

Translator: Nyoi_Bo_Studio Editor: Nyoi_Bo_Studio

"Who has evidence to prove the existence of this temple?" Fan Xian still possessed the empirical views of a modern man.

Answered Fei Jie proudly, "Ku He, one of the Four Great Grandmasters, became one of the strongest on this continent after came to be in the temple's favor. Isn't that proof enough?"

"Or perhaps Ku He took too many stimulants and used the temple as an excuse." Fan Xian retorted.

"Blasphemy. While I envy the luck of the bald Ku He, for the past few decades, he held the utmost reverence for the gods, and I do admire that. How can he use temple as an excuse…and what is a 'stimulant'?"

"It's a medicine which boosts the body; something like an elixir… he must have had too much, otherwise how did he lose all his hair?"

Fan Xian was joking with his teacher.

Fei Jie ignored him: "The temple is like the Tianmai; they both are found in the books, and in the royal chambers of all kingdoms, with the most important part are the sacrificial temples. It's just that the temples themselves want no part in worldly matters, and never interferes. It is for that reason that all the ceremonies are made at the Heavenly Altar three miles away from the palace. Qing and Northern Qi both conduct large scale sacrifices at their altars, but they never use it to influence politics and other national business. Only some pilgrims believe the temple to be ruins of the realms, and take on journeys to train their hearts and bodies."

Fan Xian was smiling, but inside he thought, "What is this temple really like? If it's part of a belief system, then why doesn't this world have things like churches? If those fundamental organizations don't exist, then this belief system would have no authority; no authority equals no benefit, and without benefit… no reason for any organization to exist."

And so, he didn't believe what his teacher just told him about the temple being an existence which transcended this world.

But at the same time, he thought, "If a belief system really is based on such a mysterious place, it's not so bad, since it doesn't seem to interfere with people's lives."

...

...

"Alright, teacher, you've been off-topic for too long. You haven't told me what's going on with this zhenqi in my body yet."

Seeing a rare childish tantrum, Fei Jie checked Fan Xian's pulse carefully, then stated, "As I said earlier, the zhenqi inside you is very powerful. Even though you've been training for such a short amount of time, the amount of zhenqi in your pubic region and meridian have far surpassed what a body of your age is capable of containing."

"Is it that serious?" Fan Xian looked uneasy.

"I don't know."

"Then you're just trying to scare me."

"I'm not trying to scare you. It's just that you right now are like a leather bag used to hold alcohol. The bag can only hold so much, but the amount of alcohol inside keeps on increasing. If you continue, I'm worried that you will end up bursting."

Recently, while practicing, Fan Xian felt some burning pain around his waist, but other than that, there weren't any unusual symptoms, so he was reluctant to believe his teacher. He shook his head. "My teacher is scolding me for being a glutton, I believe."

"Try moving your zhenqi like you do every day in practice." Fei Jie frowned slightly.

Fan Xian did as told and closed his eyes, naturally entering the meditative state of his training. The warm cloud of qi around his abdomen began to slowly expand, gradually moving towards the limbs along the meridians of the human body.

Fei Jie too closed his eyes, setting his fingertips on the boy's wrist, judging carefully. After a while he frowned, saying, "Don't hold it back on purpose; you're only a five-year-old child, as powerful as your zhenqi may be, it can't harm me. I'm worried that your body is too frail and can't handle it."

"Oh." Fan Xian had indeed been controlling the strength of his zhenqi, so he slowly released it out through the pubic region. Thinking back on what Fei Jie said, Fan Xian couldn't help but agree; of course, the amount of zhenqi he has can't hurt that toxic old thing, and therefore, if he releases too little of it, his teacher wouldn't be able to make an accurate diagnosis.

While thinking that, he closed his eyes again, with this nameless art of zhenqi resounding through his mind: "Do not keep the force within you and bring destruction; let it flow from you like water from a spring ..."

As he chanted, the zhenqi inside began jumping as if being issued a command. It joyously came out of from his pubic region, traveled to his back along the meridian, and came rushing towards the wrist on a strange path.

A dull noise was heard from the book chamber!

Fei Jie violently opened his eyes as he felt his fingers being deflected off the child's wrist by a dense wave of zhenqi, and being unprepared, Fei Jie himself was flung against the wall, the impact of which created a dull thud. There was a burning sensation in his fingers, and his chest was in pain; Fei Jie spat out blood!

...

...

On the other side, Fan Xian felt stuffy and raised his head. Only then did he discover Fei Jie's miserable state. Shocked, he hurried and helped his teacher up.

Fie Jie waved his hand, signaling that he was fine, and got up on his own. Wiping away the blood from his lips, he stared at the little boy with a strange look that was hard to interpret.

Fie Jie mumbled to himself, "He's five years old, for f*ck's sake…! And yet his zhenqi is this overwhelming?! If you keep training, one day, the zhenqi inside you will explode and kill you."

Fan Xian was stunned to hear his teacher use such strong language. He didn't think the rebellious zhenqi in his wrist would make his teacher bleed. Despite being hurt, the first thing Fie Jie thought of wasn't his own well-being, but rather that of his student—realizing this, even though Fan Xian sometimes locked away his feelings while hiding in the body of a small child, he felt somewhat moved.

The wooden door opened, and a black shadow rushed in.

"A pair of idiots."

Even now, the blind Wu Zhu still talked with a cold tone. He led Fan Xian over and put his fingertips to the child's slender neck. After a pause, he said coldly, "You're not hurt, just shaken from seeing Fie Jie throwing up blood."

He then took another "look" at Fie Jie, and remained, "Fie Jie, you are teaching him to use poison, I trust you're qualified. But Young Miss once said that your martial abilities are one of the weakest of the Eight Masters in the capital. And since this is something I gave Young Master, it's better if you don't say anything unnecessary."

In Danzhou City, Fie Jie was a rather inconspicuous, somewhat trivial man. But here in the capital, he was a very impressive character. Now having being injured—though mostly through his own carelessness—he was unhappy after hearing Wu Zhu putting it like that. Adding to his own worry was Fan Xian learning such overly powerful ability at the age of five, his expression darkened.

Chapter 13: The Crude, Simple Explanation

Translator: Nyoi_Bo_Studio Editor: Nyoi_Bo_Studio

With a dark expression, Fei Jie spoke coldly. "I know I am not qualified to question the training method that you passed on to Fan Xian. However, I am very curious. Why did you not teach him personally? Knowing that he was only five, even if he was truly talented, for something so dangerous you should have been there for him as his mother's servant."

This was something understandably reasonable to say. After all, it was Wu Zhu who left the obscure zhenqi training method next to Fan Xian's swaddle; this meant he had an obligation to ensure that no problems arose during his training.

Fan Xian glanced awkwardly at Wu Zhu, his eyes pausing on the black cloth wrapped below his brow.

"I did not leave this for the young master. The Lady left it," Wu Zhu said deliberately.

Fie Jie had no intention of offending the blind man, but he was growing agitated. "Cunning. For someone with such profound training, even just a simple tip or two could have saved Fan Xian from training in such a perilous manner."

After a pause, Wu Zhu suddenly spoke. "I have never practiced zhenqi."

With this, he simply turned and left, leaving behind the dumbstruck master and apprentice pair.

...

...

"What did he just say?"

"He said he never practiced any… zhenqi. And his voice faltered when he said that."

Fei Jie watched Fan Xian's feigned sophistication and felt rage boil up inside him. Just where did a five year old boy learn to speak with such cynical wit?

"It's hard to imagine a man without any neigong coming to a draw in a sanshou fight with Liuyun, one of the Four Great Grandmasters."

"At that time, Ye Liuyun was still using his sword, as he had not yet completed his sanshou training."

"Master, can someone without neigong zhenqi become as powerful as Wu Zhu?" Fan Xian questioned sincerely.

Fei Jie's brows furrowed in thought as he spoke. "Only if he carried out every single movement with strict precision would he be able to fatally injure someone with his iron rod before they could react."

Fan Xian naturally remembered the night he had arrived in this world in the arms of the blind young man and how the iron rod he held dripped with a steady stream of fresh blood.

"However, this kind of speed and power are beyond what humans are capable of."

Fei Jie shook his head, then suddenly cleared his throat. He quickly sat next to the desk and peered at Fei Xian. "Little one, if you can't grasp this art, then it is best that you stop. I guarantee that with my method you will never have to worry about anyone bothering you."

"I will consider it," Fan Xian answered maturely.

After some thought, Fei Jie retrieved a sachet of medicine and placed it in Fan Xian's tiny hands. "Take this. It's a kind of expensive medicine. If your training ever goes awry, consume one pill with plenty of water."

Fan Xian nodded his head in response. "Thank you, master." He knew that the medicine was extremely valuable.

Fie Jie smiled faintly as he looked at this child who was like an adult, then spoke suddenly. "Isn't it strange that I'm treating you so nicely despite the fact that your father forced me to come all the way to Danzhou just to teach you?"

Fan Xian didn't say anything, but merely stared at him with an expression of thanks.

Fei Jie laughed and shook his head, patting Fan Xian's head. "Perhaps, at my age, having a student as clever as you is something worth being happy about."

"For now, don't think about the Count's estate in the capital," Fei Jie said seriously. "Even though you're still young, I hope you remember what I'm about to tell you."

Hearing the seriousness in his teacher's tone, Fan Xian sat up straight and listened carefully.

"Your family is far more complicated than you could ever imagine. This matter involves not only your own survival, but the lives of many others, so you must remain vigilant at all times. In the years that you grow to be an adult, you must learn how to protect yourself so that in the future you can protect others."

"In the future... protect whom?" Fan Xian was puzzled.

Fei Jie laughed as he pointed at his own nose. "Someone inseparable from you, like myself for instance."

Fan Xian nodded hazily. He thought that the situation was indeed complicated. Even having lived in two different worlds, he still could not understand what his teacher was getting at.

"Alright, go to your room now and get some rest. As for that corrupt Badao kung fu, it's probably best not to practice it anymore."

Fan Xian prudently returned to his room. When he opened the door, he saw Wu Zhu sitting silently in the corner. With the lights off, the room was just an inky patch of gloom, yet despite this, the piece of black cloth that covered Wu Zhu's eyes seemed even murkier and opaque than the night itself.

"Wu Zhu." Fan Xian bowed his head in respect.

A faint, monotone voice travelled from the corner where Wu Zhu sat. "The tome is divided into two parts. The first is called Badao, and the second one has no title. The tome was given to you by The Lady, so I left it beside you when you were young. I have never learned these spiritual methods, so I cannot teach you. I believe, however, that since it is called Badao, one can assume that the way it uses qi is more aggressive... If you encounter any issues during training, then it's your own problem."

With this, the piece of black cloth disappeared.

"What a crude, simple explanation, and what an odd, apathetic man." Fan Xian sighed and climbed into bed, then retrieved the nameless book from a secret compartment. He thought about his training process and realized that when zhenqi filled his dantian, it did not follow the flow of the meridians as it should have. Instead, parts of the zhenqi split into the xufu channel, which leads directly to the xushan, located above the back of the kidney.

The xushan passes through the spine. Fan Xian had learned both in his past life and in his lessons with Fei Jie the vital importance of the spine. As the spine is directly connected to the brain, a single careless move could leave one trapped in a vegetative state.

However, as Fan Xian meditated during his daily lunchtime naps, the Badao zhenqi in his body would travel through his xushan and become relaxed and calm. The agitation would subside and a feeling of serenity would wash over him, like eating ice cream on a hot summer day.

This was how he had trained since he was one year old. Could it be that he had been doing it wrong? Fan Xian did not think that, immersed in the martial arts world, he would end up taking the path of corruption. Yet, like a man desperate for relief, he found himself addicted to the pleasures of the Badao path. If he stopped training, the remnants of the Badao zhenqi within him would one day burst through his mortal body.

Blind Wu Zhu told him that the consequences of his training were all up to Fan Xian himself.

To train, or not to train? That was the question plaguing Fan Xian at that moment.

Chapter 14: The Sea Salt Merchant

Translator: Nyoi_Bo_Studio Editor: Nyoi_Bo_Studio

It was early in the morning, and the birds were chirping away. The maids had just finished cleaning the house and were starting to prepare breakfast. The return to the city of Count Sinan's daughter, Miss Fan Ruoruo, left only one and a half person to answer to, so there wasn't much to be done.

After having completed all her chores, Dong'er, an older maid, went to wake Fan Xian , but was instead shocked by his poor condition. She called the doctor right away, who informed the maid that it was nothing serious after having checked the young boy's pulse, reasoning that it was probably something the boy ate, afterwards leaving a prescription and parting with his pay.

After Fei Jie came to Count Sinan's house, Mr. Xixi, who was a fan of classical literature, left subtly, as if he was the morning wind. Fie Jie looked at the young boy, who had two dark circles under his eye, and chuckled.

"They say that the hearts of youths are like the sun, ignorant to human hardships. But what happened to you? How did you end up so sleep-deprived that you needed a doctor?"

Fan Xian had been thinking the whole night but still hadn't decided whether he should continue with his zhenqi training. His original intention was to treat this nameless spiritual art as entertainment in this boundless life. However, if it endangered his survival, it was best that he be cautious.

Due to the lack of sleep, he became absent-minded. Having heard his teacher Fei Jie talk about the ignorance of human hardships, he recited intuitively, "I was young and ignorant of hardship and sorrows, and I loved climbing high. I climbed high, I feigned hardship and sorrow to help me create, yet now that I've tasted hardship and sorrow, I speak but hold back, I speak but hold back. O how exquisitely cool this autumn day is."

...

...

The study room quickly fell silent. Fan Xian, who had not made a single sound for half a day struggled to pry open his heavy eyelids and yawned, "Don't be angry, Teacher. I had a late night."

Fie Jie watched the boy as he stroked his beard subconsciously, and without realizing it, he stabbed his chin with a goose feather pen. Painfully awakened, he questioned sluggishly, "Earlier...that poem...who wrote it?"

"Poor old man Xin"

Without thinking, Fan Xian accidently revealed Xin Qizi's surname, only to realize his mistake.

Fan Xian stuttered as Fie Jie's eyes lit up.

"Old man Xin is a two-way merchant who collected sea salt last month."

"Hmm. Not bad for a merchant. I wonder what his full name is."

"Xin...Qizi." Fan Xian snuck a peak.

Fie Jie had already resumed being his normal self and began teaching. There was so much more to teach than just biological points, and so his load was a heavy one.

...

...

Fan Xian returned to his bedroom after lunch and was once again faced with the complicated question of whether he should continue with the dangerous zhenqi training. As he held the yellow book in his hand, he began to feel depressed.

More than anything else, he should probably be depressed about the poem he accidently recited in the study room.

The Ugly Page, written on a wall on the way to Boshan, was a poem written by Xin Qizi. After he was criticized, his poems expressed a mellow bitterness. Fan Xian was of course quite familiar with it and had recited it, unaware of the trouble that he would bring upon himself. He wondered if his teacher believed his feeble excuse, but judging from Fei Jie's reaction, Fan Xian wagered that he probably believed the original author really was a sea salt merchant.

Fan Xian was not obsessively concerned with morals, so to him, there was nothing hateful about plagiarizing poems. From his point of view, to keep the knowledge of these poems to himself rather than making good use of them was equivalent to violating a national treasure.

He had plenty of time in the years that he had lived in this world to come up with ways of making a living. It took no time for the work of plagiarism to secure its place in the top-three position on his list.

During his thoughts, Fan Xian often brainwashed himself. Rather than a poacher, he was a preserver, a mighty idealist, sharing and spreading the cultures of Earth.

However, he had not planned on plagiarizing like this, nor at this moment in time. He had planned to at least use the author's name as a pen name for their work.

Today, in the same situation as in the study room, if you planned to plagiarize as a five year old, then your choice of work should have been "Song for the goose by Luo Binwang". The lively imagery of this poem better conveys the model child prodigy image.

If you were caught humming words such as "I speak but hold back, O how exquisitely cool this autumn day is" at such a young age, you would not be thought of as a child prodigy, but rather, as a child freak, one who looked normal on the outside but deep down bore 365 painful scars, conveying the bitter passing of the four seasons.

On the one hand, Fan Xian was thinking about these trivial matters, he was able to rely on these years to stabilize an ever-intensifying biological clock.

When it came time for his daily nap, Fan Xian gradually fell asleep, and in his dreams, he was in the middle of meditating on the immense danger that Fei Jie considered to be the overwhelming power of zhenqi

It was on this day that Fan Xian decided he would accept his fate and continue his training with this overwhelming zhenqi, since all that was needed for the training was for him to sleep anyway, and he'd worry about any issues when they came up.

...

...

After Fan Xian's nap was over, Fei Jie continued with his unfinished letter.

The completely dried writing suggested that the letter was written the night before.

"...this child is prettier, braver, wiser, more determined and mature than anyone. If he were to hide himself among all the five year olds of Qi Kingdom, he would still be easily identified. From my observations this year, I have found that he is more than perfect to inherit the family fortune. The biggest concern is his background identity…"

The writing stopped. It was at that point in the previous night Fan Xian questioned him about zhenqi. Fei Jie sighed, and paused as he remembered the words Fan Xian had said earlier that day. He continued writing.

"... 'I speak but hold back, O how exquisitely cool this autumn day is.' How am I supposed to believe that those words came from a five year old boy, knowing that the art of prose has deteriorated these past few years? I find it hard to even believe a merchant may have written this. What's more, the young master panicked afterwards, and this is something that I have rarely seen happen in the year that I have been acquainted with him. The biggest question here is how Xin Qizi had the opportunity to meet with Fan Xian even though I am with him most of the day."

At the end of the letter he requested sincerely, "Please ask the people of Dongsan Road to find out exactly who the sea salt merchant Xin Qizi is, and also his reason for making contact with Fan Xian. The answer as to why the young master was so anxious over these words take priority. Please hurry."

Fei Jie ended the letter with a crooked signature and put down his pen.

A few days later, the overwatch Council of the capital city sent spies out in hunt for a sea salt merchant. Although they found numerous illegal private sea salt traders afflicted with government officials, they could not find a merchant with the surname of Xin. Rumors spread from the city that the director of the council, feared by all, was furious with the lack of results. He punished the spies by taking three months' worth of their pay. The spies searched everywhere under the sun, their faces thunderous and ready to kill.

...

...

May God have pity… on the unlucky man named Xin Qizi in this world.

Chapter 15: Farewell for Now, Fei Jie

Translator: Nyoi_Bo_Studio Editor: Nyoi_Bo_Studio

With the years passing, fall arrived once again and chrysanthemum flowers blanketed the mountains.

Fei Jie's teaching career in Danzhou Harbor was originally set to end in the summer, but he loved the air, the ocean wind, and the cuisine at Count Sinan's estate. In particular, he so much enjoyed teaching Fan Xian that he extended his stay for a few more months.

After those few months, Fei Jie, an expert in taking life by poison and also in prolonging it in the elderly, rubbed his fattening tummy. He had regrettably received a letter from the capital and reluctantly informed Count Sinan's mother of his leave.

Knowing that Fie Jie was sent by the capital, the Countess made no effort to persuade him to stay. She comforted him instead before gifting him a red envelope as an act of thanks.

Down by the road heading west of Danzhou Harbor, teacher and student said their goodbyes.

"Why don't you listen to my advice and discontinue your zhenqi training? It won't end well."

"I haven't encountered any major problems with it; at least, not yet."

"If there are no problems, then why did you go through barrels of alcohol in the kitchen?"

"It was an accident," Fan Xian answered distressfully. In recent months, the zhenqi in his body became increasingly aggressive and these incidents occurred often. Due to these incidents, Fan Xian had no choice but to sacrifice his bedtime ghost stories with the maids as he was afraid that in the heat of the moment his hand might run astray on one of the maid's bodies and he would make a deeply regrettable mistake.

"Learning the art of poison is learning the world's greatest killing method. What's the need to learn anything else?"

"Because poison can easily harm the innocent."

Fie Jie stared into the eyes of the little boy and asked, "Are you sure you're not turning six this year?"

Fan Xian looked at his teacher innocently. "It's not my fault I'm an early bloomer."

Fei Jie sighed and tutted. It really wasn't easy keeping his mind sane around the little rascal for so long.

It was time to leave. Fei Jie rubbed the back of the boy's head and looked back towards the city of Danzhou.

"In the future, if you ever come to the capital... to be a doctor, remember to look me up."

"Very well." Fan Xian bowed in respect. He truly appreciated the eccentric old man. Over the years, his old soul longed for someone to converse with. Blind man Wu Zhu was too cold for consideration, so the role was filled by his teacher, who had an impressive background. Throughout the time they knew each other, he could sense how they had grown close.

"Stop practicing zhenqi…"

"You can be quite garrulous sometimes, sir."

"Maybe it's because I'm too old." Fei Jie rubbed Fan Xian's soft black hair with one hand while messing his own white hair with the other."

"Anyway, that zhenqi is worthless. It's too powerful and uncontrollable." Fei Jie hadn't given up on changing Fei Xian's mind. "There's a formidable swordsman in the city of Dongyi who owes me a favor. I could introduce you to be his student

Fan Xian inhaled a cold breath. "Are you talking about the master swordsman of Dongyi city?"

"That's right," Fei Jie said enticingly. "One of the Four Great Grandmasters. His practice is much more powerful than yours."

Fan Xian was interested in something else. "How do you know him?"

"Well, when he was eight, his father called me in to treat the boy's sickness. Judging by the fact that he hugged trees all day, the little monster was obviously just dumb. I treated him halfheartedly and left with my money. I never would have known that a few years later I'd hear that he learned the Sigu sword style and became a Great Grandmaster.

Fan Xian looked at him with disdain. "You treated him halfheartedly? Let's not even mention the fact that you practically stole your pay; you nearly killed a world-class warrior. That is quite worthy of contempt."

Fei Jie feigned anger and walked towards the carriage in the distance. "I have taught you everything about biological poisons and all knowledge related to it. However, there is one key piece of information that I have yet to tell you."

Fan Xian ran after him, his tiny legs working as fast as the wind. "What is it?"

"Finding the right antidote is easy. Finding the right poison is easy. The hardest part is the administration of the poison."

Without turning his head, Fei Jie continued walking.

Fan Xian, however, stopped in his tracks and carefully turned those words over in his mind. In the past year that he had been with Fei Jie, he had learned that in the field of poisons, the hardest thing to do was to find a poison that was colorless, odorless and tasteless.

So the secret was in how the poison was administered.

He began to giggle shyly all of a sudden. It's not like he was preparing to be an assassin or planning on killing the emperor. Why was he stressing out over this matter? All he needed to do was be confident that he wouldn't fall victim to poisoning under the hands of the aunt in Count Sinan's estate.

He watched as the carriage disappeared into the distance with dust following in its trails. Left at the side of the road, Fan Xian performed a deep bow. He realized that the eccentric old man had not wanted to come to Danzhou at first, but after a year of running around together cutting up dead bodies and frog legs, they had grown used to each other. Neither of them would ever forget this relationship.

With the lonely departure, Fan Xian could not help but feel sad. "Fei Jie really is a great man. It's just a shame he looks...a bit miserable."

...

...

There was a long period of time afterwards in which Fan Xian was unable to adapt to the departure of his teacher. A normal noble boy his age would probably have been playing with his friends. Although he was the only noble child in Danzhou, there were plenty of possible playmates close to his age. Fan Xian knew that at the end of his story, he would not be able to associate with his peers.

Since his mental age was older than other children, he often felt like he was babysitting. Not everyone wants to be the king of other children to satisfy what little ability they have. This was similar to how, back in Fan Xian's former reality, no stereotypical macho man would ever want to be a kindergarten teacher.

After Fei Jie left Danzhou, Fan Xian lost the only person he could converse with. He felt like his life was starting to get boring. He stood on the front steps of Count Sinan's villa and watched as crowds of people passed by and began to feel lonely. He had no idea what he could do trapped in the body of a child.

He remembered back to when he first arrived in this world, of how he had thought of wonderful things that he could do and he couldn't help but laugh. In his previous life, when he lay on his sick bed, his lack of ability was obvious from his appearance. He had thought that, at least compared to the people of this world, he would have some extra skills like making soap or molding ugly glass cups. That was only the beginning of the list of simple yet beneficial things he could do…

When Fan Xian realized that soap and glass already existed and were nothing special in this world, he didn't feel too beat up about it. However, when he realized that Fie Jie's carriage horses had saddles and steps to help get on the horse, he felt so overcome with failure that he began to sob lightly.

Chapter 16: A Letter from the Capital

Translator: Nyoi_Bo_Studio Editor: Nyoi_Bo_Studio

The skies above the city of Danzhou darkened suddenly. The thick heavy clouds that hung over the heads of the people looked like patches of wet, dirty wool, or maybe burned cotton candy.

The shore-dwelling inhabitants there were so accustomed to the weather that they knew it would still be a while before rainfall, so no one panicked. It was unlike previous years when the weather looked like it was about to take a turn for the worse and the handsome illegitimate son of Count Sinan's house could be found shouting from the neighboring rooftops at the entire city, "It's about to rain; bring in your laundry."

The only main street in Danzhou Harobor was filled with food and trinkets. Seeing a pretty boy in the crowd, one of the merchants tried to make conversation. "Master Fan, why don't you tell us to bring in the laundry anymore?"

Fan Xian smiled shyly and said nothing. He grasped his maid's hand with one hand and held some tofu with the other.

Nobody was surprised that he helped the servants. Everyone knew that the illegitimate son of Count Sinan's house was unlike any other noble child in that he loved helping those beneath his station.

In the six years since Fei Jie left Danzhou Harbor, Fan Xian had grown to be a fetching young boy who emitted a sense of reliability.

Back at the house, he handed the tofu to the servants before greeting the Countess and picking up a piece of paper next to her. Returning to his study, he placed a letter from his little sister next to the piece of paper on his desk and the expression on his face immediately lit up.

This year, the emperor of Qing Kingdom made some changes to his reign title and year to reflect the name of the country; a peculiar move that nobody anticipated. Although it might have seemed that the civil servants were fine with the change, they complained when nobody was around. During those days, it didn't matter if you were a scholar at the Ministry of Education or a congee-drinking novel writer, if you were with the new language party or the old one; you still had to pay the Eighth Bureau of the Overwatch Council to review a report. This topic was heavily covered by sour old scholars.

After the emperor's reign title was changed, next on the list was pushing new laws. These new laws were nothing new and only served to reorganize pre-existing ones. The only thing the public found refreshing was the introduction of newspapers at the start of the new year.

Newspapers? No one had any idea what they were until the first issue, after which a collective "Oh" marked the end of the public's interest.

The newspapers were produced by the imperial palace and every issue had to be approved by the emperor himself before publication. This prevented the possibility of any problematic articles that could incite backlash.

The following issues cost the expensive price of a silver coin and were bought by those attracted to their novelty. Some of the higher status people began to suspect it was a ploy set by the emperor and wondered if he was planning on building a new garden.

Included within the thin paper were pieces of useless information. These ranged from landmarks to historical figures, but the main feature of the paper was articles covering the private life of government officials, like how the general was beaten by his wife or why the Commander of Defense in the capital was missing a tooth.

There were even peripheral articles related to their neighbors, the Northern Qi Kingdom and the Dongyi City. However, the government officials only paid attention to their own close circle. In the beginning, they laughed at the articles, but soon became embarrassed when it was their turn to be featured in the newspaper. Knowing that the emperor was behind the newspaper, nobody dared to complain.

The newspapers were printed in scarce numbers and the entire city of Danzhou had only two copies, one of which could be found in Count Sinan's house, as they were subscribers.

The piece of paper Fan Xian had stolen from his grandmother's room was the much-discussed newspaper. After a quick scan of the paper, Fan Xian could not control his facial expressions; he wanted to stick his entire fist in his mouth... What kind of era was this? Tabloid newspapers? And ordered by the emperor, no less!

...

...

The new "mail order" law enacted by the royal family meant that the brother-sister pair could secretly send letters to each other with secrecy.

Fan Xian frowned as he looked at the newspaper. For a while now he had heard people discussing the new laws, which in his opinion were a product of nonsense by the emperor. However, everyone knew that the emperor was not one to rub the wrong way.

Fan Xian was not in the mood to change the world. He wasn't even interested in the first place, but when this world began to grow similar to his own, he was naturally interested to see how things worked behind the scenes.

After much meditating, Fan Xian still hadn't gotten to the bottom of the matter. Smiling wryly, he pushed the paper aside and self-deprecatingly thought to himself that perhaps another person with larger ambitions had also travelled to this world.

Anyhow, these matters were of little relevance to him. It was the letter next to the paper that carried greater importance.

In Fan Xian's memories, Fan Ruoruo was someone related to him by blood that had stayed in Danzhou for a while during their childhood. His poor little sister was lanky and dark compared to his graceful and pretty appearance.

They had not seen each other for many years. Fan Xian wondered what she looked like now. Had her sparse blonde hair darkened? Had she become prettier? Fan Xian was even struggling to remember if she was called Fan Ruo or Fan Ruoruo.

"I am such an incompetent brother." Fan Xian thought he didn't care for his sister enough. Even his soul had experienced two different lives, he was still related to her by blood through this body. Two years ago when Fan Ruo began school, she often sent letters to Danzhou. Fan Xian, on the other hand, hardly replied, as he was too busy going through Wu Zhu's relentless training, his daily Badao zhenqi practice, and also reviewing the poisons book Fei Jie had left.

For some unknown reason, Fan Ruoruo, who turned ten that year, was extremely reliant on her far-away brother and frequently sent him letters. Perhaps it was because the horror stories that they had shared in their childhood were deeply ingrained in her mind. At first, she mostly wrote about how she missed her grandmother dearly and her memories of Danzhou Harbor. For the past six months, though, she wrote mainly about her boring days at the estate in the capital and hardly talked about their home in Danzhou Harbor.

Fan Xian brushed the letter lightly with his fingertips, his pretty face tinged with concern.

On the paper was his sister's delicate handwriting. She had written about her life in the capital recently and how she had been accepted into a school for aristocrat ladies. It was as if this was the natural pathway in life for someone like her.

Chapter 17: I Offer This Kitchen Knife to You

Translator: Nyoi_Bo_Studio Editor: Nyoi_Bo_Studio

It was apparent from what was written in the letter that there was always something troublesome going on that didn't match Fan Ruoruo's age. Thinking back, after the head wife died, the woman who had given birth to a son started to become more and more arrogant in the capital. Because Uncle Sinan was always busy with official affairs, Fan Ruoruo was alone in the capital. Perhaps there were some minor problems in her daily life.

Picking up a brush and dipping the tip in ink, Fan Xian paused for a moment to think before writing his reply. In his letter, he was rather roundabout in telling her to spend as much time with Count Sinan as possible, and to behave herself in a lovable and mellow manner. She must not openly complain, but she should occasionally show her hidden bitterness.

Secondly, she must stand her ground in front of that woman and a certain proud younger brother. As people would often say, make yourself too kind and people will take advantage of you. If Fan Ruoruo didn't wish to be treated unfairly, at the very least she should show her willingness to defend herself.

Thirdly, she needed to be kind to the house servants, especially to Count Sinan's aide. She needed to observe the uncle with a pure, innocent gaze as the latter displayed his boring methods.

Finally, and as slightly as possible, she should offend the female master in the capital and bear the consequences for a bit. Then she should find a way to let the male master know about it—any man would have a strange desire to protect, especially his own daughter. Under such circumstances, Count Sinan would certainly remember the daughter left behind by his late head wife.

But there were still limits to such methods, and Fan Xian hinted s in the letter. Fan Xian didn't know if this trick he picked up in his previous life from romance novels would work, but he believed that if Ruoruo was bright enough, she would figure it out.

Afterwards, he impatiently waited for her to write back. He was afraid he might bring trouble to the eleven-year-old girl.

Two months later, Fan Ruoruo's letter came. From the content, Fan Xian could tell that his younger sister had been happy recently. He didn't know if it was due to his suggestions or if there was never an incident of mistreatment in the capital in the first place. In the letter, Fan Ruoruo asked why treat the servants kindly. Seeing this made Fan Xian realize that, in a hierarchical society such as this, not everyone was equal. In response to her question, he wrote back a few anecdotes to explain to her that kindness benefits both others and oneself.

Fan Xian had originally planned on copying down some stories from the "Decameron" and send them along with the letter. In his previous life, Fan Xian remembered the leading critics always praising Giovanni Boccaccio for glorifying romance and equality between men and women in his words. But after giving it some more thought, Fan Xian gave up on the idea, as he remembered there were a lot of adult content in the "Decameron".

This was a small episode of Fan Xian's free time that somehow provided him with some mental sustenance, and it got to the point where seeing how that girl was doing in the capital became one of the highlights of his life.

Although Fan Ruoruo was very young, she could sense her older brother in Danzhou was no ordinary child. Despite their age difference, the siblings' exchange of letters like these showed that Fan Ruoruo was slowly being influenced by Fan Xian. Her vocabulary was much more mature than that of other girls her age. She had also started to notice the minute changes occurring in the world.

Kites in spring, fish in summer, bluebirds in autumn, geese in winter. Between the exchange of letters, seasons passed.

————————————————————————

When he wrote to Fan Ruoruo, Fan Xian always shook his head and smiled uneasily. His arms during these years had never been healthy, either swollen or in stabbing pain. Sometimes he could not raise his right hand and had to resort to writing with his left. Fan Ruoruo was astonished by how her older brother's handwriting seemed to change with every letter.

Everything began on that night six years ago.

After Old Fei left, little Fan Xian was feeling lonely and sneaked outside through a doghole. He arrived at the strange grocery store that was often closed. Familiar with the route, Fan Xian came to the back door, took out the key from the dense vegetation under the stone steps, and entered.

It had been pitch-black inside the store, but with Fan Xian's arrival, a small oil lamp was lit. Little Fan Xian sniffed the air and easily found the yellow wine Wu Zhu had prepared for him. Smiling sweetly, he took up the bowl and drank.

Wu Zhu did not drink. Fan Xian had never even seen him eat, and this was something he had gotten used to early on. Understandably, such a scene was rather absurd, a six-year-old boy indulging himself in alcohol like some free wanderer. Anyone who saw this would surely do a double take.

Wu Zhu always let Fan Xian drink with no intention of stopping him. He even prepared some appetizers for the young master.

While yellow wine was not very strong, drinking too much would still make one a bit tipsy. Intoxicated, the cute Fan Xian squinted, watching the forever expressionless blind man, who didn't seem to age: Uncle, how come after all these years your appearance hadn't changed? It's like you don't get old."

Fan Xian then continued to answer himself: It looks like after becoming strong enough, you can obtain eternal youth… but Uncle, didn't you say you never trained using neigong?"

"Uncle, how many people in this world are truly strong? How are the levels established?"

"Nine levels in total? Nine again? Why?" the drunk little thing didn't realize he was conflicting himself.

"What level are you?"

"Don't have one?"

"Then, what level is that idiot who does the Sigu sword style in Dongyi?"

"Don't have one either?"

"What about the uncle of what's-his-face?"

"Still no level?"

All those were spoken by Fan Xian himself. Finally, he chuckled: "could it be that I too will train to no level?"

The blind Wu Zhu was chopping radish into thin strands. His hand was slow yet steady. The knife was quick on the way down, but as soon as the blade came in contact with the chopping board it was immediately withdrawn. The level of accuracy was scary. The result was strands of radish of equal thickness, as if they had been shaped by industrial tools. They lay flat on the chopping board, looking very exquisite.

Wu Zhu raised his head and blanked out slightly. He walked up to Fan Xian and put the kitchen knife in the boy's hands.

Chapter 18: Blood and Tears

Translator: Nyoi_Bo_Studio Editor: Nyoi_Bo_Studio

That night, Fan Xian stared blankly at the radishes on the chopping board, gripping the vegetable knife. After having spent time digging up and dismembering corpses, he was to embark on his second course of study - extremely useful, but extremely tragic.

Sometimes he found his life truly meaningful. Out of the blue, two bizarre teachers had come into his life who didn't seem to mind his thoroughly precocious nature. The skills that Fei Jie and Wu Zhu had taught him - methods for poison and murder - were rather abnormal.

...

...

Late in the night, a slight tapping could be heard from the back of the store.

"Business is slow today," said Wu Zhu, leaning forward and speaking coldly.

Fan Xian wiped the sweat from his brow. Looking at the mountainous pile of radishes that he had cut up, he smiled, moving his right wrist. He had discovered that, after years of chopping radishes, he had developed a quickness on par with Wu Zhu, and when it came to the fineness of the shredded radish, he was starting to catch up.

But his right wrist still swelled and ached. The sound of chopping still echoed through the store, and he knew that the difference between Wu Zhu's control of the knife and his own was enormous.

Although he didn't understand what chopping radishes was supposed to do for his practice of martial arts, he was still aware that Wu Zhu was capable of going toe-to-toe with the Four Grandmasters. So he began to immerse himself in the act of radish chopping, beating out a rhythm on the chopping board.

Of course, this was not the only training he undertook with Wu Zhu. He spent many hours training in conventional techniques such as the horse stance and mountain climbing. Wu Zhu's demands on him were great. He spent so long in the horse stance that he found it near-impossible to squat upon a chamber-pot. He chopped vegetables until his wrists ached, and he ran so far that he found it difficult to get up in the morning.

But the hardest part was that every three days, Wu Zhu would take him to a remote place outside Danzhou to 'train' - although it was more accurate to say he simply beat the young boy senseless with all of his unparalleled strength.

...

...

His was a bittersweet childhood, filled with blood and tears. This was how Her Ladyship had trained her servants back in the day, explained Wu Zhu.

Fan Xian felt somewhat apprehensive about his training. It had to be hard, strict, and practical, and involve a great amount of physical practice. In Fan Xian's previous life, this had been the principle that had gained China a great many gold medals.

But Fan Xian did not complain. Instead, he simply smiled at the tasks that were assigned to him. On the surface, it seemed like he was only following orders. But his adult's intellect told him that this truly was all for his own good.

The powerful zhenqi within him had grown all the more violent over the years. He could hold it within the dantian and xueshan points in his pubic region and his spine, but in the rest of his still-developing body, he couldn't prevent it from overflowing and cutting off various meridians. He often found it appearing to overflow outward, and when that happened, the nearby furniture in the house usually ended up being damaged as a result.

If this carried on, one day, the speed of his zhenqi flow would surpass the growth of his meridians, and he would explode and die.

He still didn't know if Wu Zhu even knew of any methods to control such a powerful zhenqi flow. All he could do was train his body, and so his physical capabilities improved greatly. As he chopped radishes, he trained his powers of concentration, and as the years passed he could feel his control over his zhenqi becoming more stable.

When it came to death, no one in the world had had the experiences that Fan Xian had; no one feared death or cherished life quite as much he did. So he suffered all of Wu Zhu's training in silence, knowing that it would help him to overcome the side effects of the power that raged within him.

Thinking about it later on, he understood the deeper meaning behind Wu Zhu's actions. If zhenqi were fire, and the body were a stove, then training one's muscles was equivalent to forging a stronger stove, while training the mind and spirit was like making a larger hole in the stove in order to control the fire more effectively.

As he suffered Wu Zhu's blows in training, he reminded himself: a strong sword cannot be forged without striking the steel.

But it still hurt like hell.

——————————————————————————

Morning came. Fan Xian awoke and rubbed the dust from his eyes. He rose from his bed and slipped under the servant girl's blanket. Sniffing her bodily aroma under the covers, he was satisfied.

The servant girl, Sisi, was combing her hair when he noticed that he was already awake. Smiling, she walked to the edge of the bed and pulled the covers off the boy, who had wrapped himself up like a cocoon. She stopped combing, gathered up her hair, and went to prepare hot water for a bath.

Fan Xian climbed off the bed and sat on the cotton pillow he had given Sisi. He lifted up his pants and peered in, and recited the words from a drinking game he used to play in his previous life, making rock-paper-scissor gestures. "Who's horny? I'm horny! Who's horny? You're horny!"

He raised his eyebrows and lifted his pants again, looking down. "I'm horny," he said to himself. "You still don't know how."

He'd spent many years in this world, and had gotten used to being waited on hand and foot. He yawned and waited for the servant girl to return. After waiting for what seemed like ages, he fell back to sleep, and found himself being awoken by a hot towel being rubbed in his face.

The distant sound of angry shouting came from the courtyard. Fan Xian dressed himself and, led by his curiosity, he made his way out the door. He soon came across a rather awful scene.

In the garden, Zhou the Housekeeper was severely scolding the servant girl Sisi. It seemed that he was angry because she was rushing to prepare the hot water and had not combed her hair or dressed properly. The other servant girls surrounded them, clearly frightened.

Zhou the Housekeeper had come from the capital a few years ago. Fan Xian knew that he had been sent by the Count's mistress to spy on the household, but he had seemed like an earnest enough man throughout that one year, and Fan Xian had never caught Zhou doing anything suspicious as he watched him in secret, so he let him do as he pleased.

But this scolding of the servant girls displeased Fan Xian. He was a very protective person. Squinting his eyes, he went forth and interceded, but for whatever reason, Zhou was not in a mood to be trifled with. Sisi was to be punished.

Fan Xian knitted his brow and looked up at the housekeeper with his adorable face. "They're my servants," he said, smiling, "and I'll deal with them myself." They were ordinary words, even a little weak.

But the servant girls knew what they meant, and it filled them with fear. They did not know whether the danger of a clash between the two branches of Count Sinan's estate - one in the capital, one in Danzhou - could be kept back much longer.

Chapter 19: A Matter of Dignity

Translator: Nyoi_Bo_Studio Editor: Nyoi_Bo_Studio

Housekeeper Zhou was somewhat arrogant today for some reason. He forced a fake smile: "Young… Master, regarding the things in the house, the Countess said I'm still in charge."

Housekeeper Zhou stretched out the title of "young master" intentionally as he said it; his disrespect was obvious.

Smiling, Fan Xian noted the hint of contempt in the housekeeper's eyes. While he never felt bad for being an illegitimate child, being looked down upon and treated like a bastard were still uncomfortable experiences.

Seeing things going downhill, a certain smart girl went away to find the Countess as the other maidservants only observed nervously. Although on the surface the two houses were connected, everyone knew that Young Master Fan Xian's background wasn't all that glorious. Besides, all of the estate's supplies for living in Danzhou Harbor came from the capital, from the hands of the second wife.

Because he had a close connection with the second wife, the housekeeper dared to show the young master such disrespect. After all, in everyone's eyes, the one to inherit the grand property of the Sinan branch house would only be that little young master in the capital, not the twelve-year-old youth standing here smiling lovingly.

The servants, as much as they loved and respected Fan Xian, dared not offend the second wife at such a crucial moment. They stood to the other side of Fan Xian.

Only Fan Xian's personal maidservant tightly held his hand. Fan Xian understood very well what the servants were thinking. Anyone who wanted a better life didn't exactly have it easy, and therefore would not feel sadness or disappointment. They only tilted their heads, looking at this unhappy Housekeeper Zhou with curiosity, thinking, "He had always been calm, so what finally made him snap?"

Housekeeper Zhou was Count Sinan's second housekeeper in Jingdu. Because he made some small mistakes in the capital, he was chased far away to the remote Danzhou Harbor. However, Housekeeper Zhou did not believe he had actually departed from the lavishness of the capital, and did not grief over it.

Count Sinan's head wife had been dead for many years, and his second wife gave birth to a son seven years ago. Because the second wife's family had some reputation, naturally, she wanted to take advantage of the situation and aim for a proper place. It was during a time like this Housekeeper Zhou arrived in Danzhou. Undoubtedly, he had come with ill intentions.

In order to fulfill his duty, he meticulously managed the Count's estate and was exceptionally respectful towards the Countess. He was also kind towards the servants and rarely meddled with the private affairs of others. But every time he saw that little mongrel, the one who led to his disguised exile, he couldn't help but show his true feelings.

No one knew why, but he was a bit afraid of the young boy, despite the latter being only in his early teens.

Because no matter where he went, he could almost always see that boy's faintly- smiling face and his pair of clear eyes. As neat and pretty as that face was, anyone would feel disturbed if it followed them around constantly from the moment they woke up.

When Housekeeper Zhou kindly greeted the servants, little Fan Xian's pretty face was hidden among the flowers, staring at the housekeeper blankly; when Housekeeper Zhou scowled over the statements of account, little Fan Xian propped his face up on the windowsill of the accountant chamber, staring at the housekeeper innocently; and when Housekeeper Zhou made his report to the Countess with upmost respect, little Fan Xian rested his face next to the Countess, staring at him with infinite curiosity.

After several months like this, Housekeeper Zhou was almost driven insane. He could see that innocent beautiful face at all times, it was like the face of a ghost floating in white mist. A face that beautiful could only belong to a ghost, a face which stared at him so intensely.

With his psyche almost at its breaking point, he even began to become paranoid. Could that boy know he was sent here to deal with him? But then Housekeeper Zhou thought, "That little mongrel is too young; how could he know the dangers of the adult world? But… why is he always looking at me? Why? Just like now. If I were him, I'd feel humiliation, how could he still smile like that?"

Housekeeper Zhou smiled coldly, thinking: "Thing will be over soon; there is no need for me to get upset over this brat."

...

...

Fan Xian didn't realize his unscrupulous observation of Housekeeper Zhou would be so taxing on the housekeeper's psyche. But even if he had known, he wouldn't feel sorry about it. He was only curious as to what methods this aunt in the capital would deploy to deal with him.

But after seeing Housekeeper Zhou scolding his maidservant to save face, Fan Xian's expression turned gloomy. After hearing how the housekeeper pronounced "Young Master", Fan Xian's smile slowly faded.

"I heard Young Master chased a maidservant out of the house a few years ago; such unruly behavior certainly won't do." Housekeeper Zhou continued to talk with disdain, ignoring the youth's gradually worsening expression. "You are still young; it would be best from now on if you didn't worry about the things in the house."

Fan Xian laughed: "Are you warning me to stay put?"

Housekeeper Zhou claimed he wouldn't dream of it, but his tone was overflowing with arrogance: "Who would dare? It's just that before coming here, the second wife ordered me to look after you, since you are still of tender age."

"So then you aren't afraid of me using my authority as your master to slap that big mouth of yours?" Fan Xian asked, curious.

Housekeeper Zhou chuckled, stroking the sparsely grown beard on his chin. He said: "Young Master… even though you lost your mother as an infant and lacked discipline growing up, everyone knows that you still had the upbringing of a learned scholar. You wouldn't treat your servants so harshly."

The housekeeper looked at the beautiful youth before him and laughed to himself on the inside. "A mere child he is; to think he would try to use his authority to threaten me."

"Oh." Fan Xian came back to his senses, as if just realizing his identity as an illegitimate child. He turned and left.

The maidservants, while secretly wanting justice for the young master, took a breath of relief since no conflicts had occurred. Sisi held Fan Xian's hand as her eyes began to tear up. She felt sorry for the young master, but was afraid he would become upset. Only after side eyeing Fan Xian and discovering tranquility in his eyes did she finally come to peace.

Taking Sisi's hand, Fan Xian led her inside and set up two stools by the door. He made Sisi sit on one of them before making his way into the garden with another stool.

The maidservants had not yet dispersed; Housekeeper Zhou was still savoring his earlier display of courage.

Fan Xian set the stool directly in front of Housekeeper Zhou. Those nearby were puzzled. Housekeeper Zhou was no exception, and was about to raise a question. But little Fan Xian had already stepped onto the stool.

At only twelve years of age, Fan Xian was not very tall. On top of a stool, he was only the same height as Housekeeper Zhou.

The people were confused, not knowing what Fan Xian was about to do. At that moment, Fan Xian puffed two breaths into his right palm and raised it high.

"What are you doing?" The sentence hung in Housekeeper Zhou's mouth and came out with a shower of spit.

Fan Xian brutally swung his little hand forward!

With a loud and crisp "smack", Housekeeper Zhou tumbled over to the ground. A red handprint appeared on his face, and there was some blood on the corner of his mouth. He was physically stunned by the hit. There was no way he would have expected such strength to come from a child, not to mention… this child… actually dared to hit him in the first place!

Little Fan Xian hopped down from the stool, flexed his wrist, and took a handkerchief from a maidservant standing close by. He wiped hand as he looked at the housekeeper—who was groaning while holding his face—and said in a light voice: "Even a learned scholar would resort to violence. Even though I don't abuse my servants, I am more than happy to show you the style of a son from a wealthy family."

Chapter 20: Standing at the Top

Translator: Nyoi_Bo_Studio Editor: Nyoi_Bo_Studio

Zhou the housekeeper laid on the ground miserably, the mark on his face red as a peach blossom. He spat out a few broken teeth and was half-dizzy in shock. He directed a weak gaze full of fear and horror towards Fan Xian.

"I seriously don't understand what you guys think," Fan Xian said in a quiet voice. "Did you really believe I wouldn't hit you? You seem to have forgotten your place. Perhaps a more cultured master wouldn't do anything to his servants, but that is not me, unfortunately. Don't tell me you're going to hit back? So, that's that. All you can do is to deal with it and endure, laugh, or go cry about it to the Countess or back in the capital… But… from now on, don't go into the back garden. I dislike seeing you."

After saying this, he dusted his pants off and turned to Sisi who was sitting dumbfounded on the stool. He told her quietly that he wanted to go out and left the Count's estate.

Behind him, looks of fear inevitably surfaced on the faces of the servants. None of them would have thought this cute, gentle boy had such a violent side to him. The contrast between the two sides shook everyone to the core and made it all the more terrifying.

At this time, the Countess had arrived in the back garden too. She looked at the groaning housekeeper on the ground and thought of that child; she couldn't help but express a glint of meaningful happiness.

Chasing the head servant out of the house last year, and slapping Zhou the housekeeper silly today, the twelve-year-old Fan Xian finally established his authority in the Count's estate.

...

...

Along the shore five kilometers from Danzhou Harbor was a dangerous region covered by reefs. The sea winds churned up the blue water, smashing it against the rocks into huge sprays of white foam.

On the east side, there was an extremely narrow passage hidden among the hazardous rocks. Fan Xian came along that path. He turned his body with his back to the sea. Listening to the deafening sound of waves at his back, he looked up.

In front of him was a series of steep cliffs. This mountain was formed naturally next to the sea. Behind the mountain were ancient forests and swamps spanning hundreds of li, making scaling the cliffs the only way to reach the apex.

Taking a look at the cliffs, Fan Xian frowned slightly. In his mind, he traced the path he always took while climbing. However, the sea winds had been strong recently, and the rocks which stuck out from the cliff were loose. If he were to climb to the top today, he must be more careful than usual.

The sea crashed into the reefs behind him, but the rocks proved cold and insurmountable, with only some seawater reaching the shallows, making this area of the shore wetter than others. Fan Xian's shoes got wet from standing there and his feet felt quite uncomfortable.

Taking off his shoes, Fan Xian put them in a clean cavity just below the cliffs. Taking some coarse sand and rubbing his palms together, he began to adjust his inner zhenqi. Having readied himself, he planted his right hand securely onto an inconspicuous outcropping and deftly lifted his entire body into the air. He began to climb up as if he weighted next to nothing.

He ascended rapidly. With his entire body flattened against the cliff surface, he looked like some strange animal which was adept at climbing. Each time he reached out his hand, planted down with his foot, or lifted himself upwards, it all seemed effortless; there were no signs of difficulty.

After only a short while, he was close to the top. The sea wind whirled behind him, blowing away his body heat and sweat, making him feel refreshed.

"I bet even Guo Jing couldn't climb this fast. But the blind man at the top of this mountain will be much fiercer than Ma Yu…"

Fan Xian thought back on what happened in the garden as he continued to climb. Something didn't feel right to him. That precious housekeeper of the second wife stayed put for over a year, why did he happen to mess up today?

The sea winds carried moisture, making the exposed rocks somewhat slippery. Seeing that he was almost to the top, Fan Xian relaxed his focus. Thinking about what happened earlier only distracted him further. His right hand slipped and he almost fell.

As dangerous as that seemed, Fan Xian did not panic and directed his zhenqi into his right hand. With three fingers, he latched tightly onto the only piece of projecting rock that could support him. Shaking slightly, his fingers looked as if they were deeply embedded into the rock, unmovable.

A wooden stick reached down from above, gesturing him to grab it.

Fan Xian seemingly wanted to avoid this stick very much. He didn't even look at it and started to swing his body. With the tip of his feet, he kicked against the cliff's surface, providing him with the momentum to propel his entire body to the top. The maneuver was as risky as it looked.

"You weren't focusing enough. That could cost you your life."

At the mountain top, on the edge of the cliffs, Wu Zhu stood facing the sea breeze. His clothes were made from coarse fabric and a strip of black cloth covered his eyes.

Fan Xian ignored him and sat down in a lotus position. After a short period of adjustment, he stood back up and told Wu Zhu about what happened today at the house. He also expressed his suspicions, hoping Wu Zhu could provide a definitive answer.

"You think a single slap will keep the housekeeper in check?" Wu Zhu asked coldly.

"I do, as long as grandma is on my side," Fan Xian said as he lowered his head. While he didn't imbue that slap with zhenqi, the great power stored within his fragile young body over the years was still frightening. More importantly, he displayed his gloomy temperament at the most crucial moment. This was dreadful indeed.

"Then that's enough." Wu Zhu didn't appear to want to probe deeper into the matter.

"This is only my suspicion, but why did the housekeeper decide to stir things up today? He has spent over a year in Danzhou Harbor with his tail between his legs. Under normal circumstances, there really isn't any reason for him to show his ugly colors now, unless… he feels that he's had enough and something will happen in Danzhou soon. Maybe, in his eyes, I'm no longer a threat to my half-brother in the capital, and so he no longer sees a need to please me."

Fan Xian smiled bitterly, a look which did not match his youthful face.

It was indeed strange, now that he mentioned it. If Fei Jie was somewhat uncertain and fearful regarding Fan Xian's early maturity, Wu Zhu, on the other hand, was unconcerned about this. It looked as though Wu Zhu would not react to anything when it came to Fan Xian, even if Fan Xian were to turn into a tree demon.

Fan Xian thought that perhaps it was because Wu Zhu was blind and unable to see the expressions that Fan Xian unknowingly made; expressions which shouldn't appear on the face of a child.

"That's trivial," Wu Zhu said suddenly. He obviously felt Fan Xian was overanalyzing the subject.

"I predict someone will come to kill me. Is that trivial?" Fan Xian laughed.

Wu Zhu coldly replied: "Fei Jie and I have taught you so much. If you can't handle something as trivial as that, then it becomes non-trivial."

Fan Xian thought about it for a moment, and accepted the fact. He understood that Master Wu Zhu would not take care of things for him this time.

"Let's begin."

"Okay."

...

...

After a long while, in a remote area above the cliffs, Fan Xian removed his tunic. "Again…" he moaned dejectedly to the side.

As soon as his voice floated away from the cliffs, a wooden stick came down from above, mercilessly striking his back with a muffled crack.

Chapter 21: Pain

Translator: Nyoi_Bo_Studio Editor: Nyoi_Bo_Studio

Currently, the overwhelming zhenqi inside Fan Xian had reacted automatically, forming a dense layer which blanketed his back. However, the wooden stick was even faster and "stabbed" him before the zhenqi could react.

The term "stab" meant that the stick was thrust in a straight line by its owner, with all the power focused into the tip.

Fan Xian let out a cry. Although the youth's body was protected by zhenqi, the blow he just received sent pain down to the bone, causing his body to curl up. One moment he was writhing on the ground in pain, the next he pushed off against the ground with his hands and started to roll while assuming the same curled up position. Fan Xian ferociously kicked behind him.

Seeing a beautiful young boy performing such an insidious kick was enough to shock anybody, though what answered his kick was a simple slapping sound.

...

...

Fan Xian half-knelt on the ground, continuously massaging his ankle. He inhaled the cold air as his face twisted from the pain.

He knew begging for mercy would be useless, as proven early on these past few years. All he could do was eye the blind man standing three meters away and calculating his next move. As agreed, if he could land a single blow on the blind man, even a corner of his clothing, it would be considered a victory for Fan Xian, with the reward being a month-long break.

Having suffered several years of being beaten, Fan Xian had yet to accomplish that, due in part to Wu Zhu being alarmingly swift and not giving away his position. Even more terrifyingly, Wu Zhu made no extra movements that would give away what he planned to do next, making him unpredictable to Fan Xian. As an example, with Wu Zhu, indicators such as line of sight cannot be taken advantage of.

Secondly, that inconspicuous wooden stick—every time Fan Xian tried to get near Wu Zhu using zhenqi or underhanded tricks, that stick would move like the claw of a demon from hell, mercilessly slamming into Fan Xian's wrists, ankles, or even his fingers.

They weren't broken, but they hurt. The pain was unbearable.

What absolutely baffled Fan Xian was that, no matter how hard he tried to muffle the sound of his movements, Wu Zhu, through his blindfold, could still locate and hit him every time without fail despite the roaring of the waves crashing into the rocks below.

"Ay-ya-ya-ya…" taking another hit to the wrist, Fan Xian cried out, his voice dragging like he was singing Beijing opera. He distanced himself away from that merciless blind man.

...

...

A small, nameless yellow flower bloomed meekly on the cliffs.

Fan Xian lay on the edge of the cliff, his strength gone. The sea below had already calmed down, glistening gold from sunshine. The reefs that were constantly bashed by the waves finally gained a moment of peace and began to slowly dry. Some crustaceans climbed over them, looking like tiny black dots when viewed from above.

Touching the painful spots on his body, Fan Xian navigated his qi to inspect his interior condition. He discovered that his rampaging zhenqi had been partially absorbed into the xueshan behind his waist, while the rest of it was used up trying to defend against those relentless stick strikes. The zhenqi inside him right now was calm … just like the sea before him.

Fan Xian knew resting now would do his training no good, and so, in spite of the soreness and pain, he got up with great difficulty and assumed a lotus position as he began to carry out the maneuvers from the Scrolls of Power. He shot a glance at Wu Zhu, who was standing at the cliff's edge.

The black strip of cloth which covered Wu Zhu's eyes flapped in the sea wind.

"That's really cool, not just acting cool." Fan Xian made a silent judgement about the blind man. He said in a quiet voice: "Careful, Uncle, or you'll fall."

Naturally, a powerful character such as Wu Zhu would not die from simply falling off a cliff. Fan Xian was only making meaningless chatter.

"Don't get distracted."

Wu Zhu only spoke one emotionless sentence and stopped responding to Fan Xian.

Fan Xian signed and started to calm himself, entering a state of meditation. After who knows how long, he came back to himself among the sea winds, and discovered the sun had already changed its position. And Wu Zhu, not too far away from him, still kept the same posture, looking like a sturdy flagpole which could never be broken.

Fan Xian stood up, noticing his body had completely recovered, his zhenqi full to the brim. The pressure on his meridian also died down significantly. While his muscles, ankles, and wrists still ached, those would be taken care of once he returns to the branch house and rub on the medicine he prepared himself.

Walking through the wind, which carried the faint smell of the sea, Fan Xian walked over and stood next to Wu Zhu, and would have been shoulder-to-shoulder if he weren't so much shorter than the blind man. Fan Xian picked up a rock and chucked it towards the sea with all his might. Currently, zhenqi was flooding throughout his body, making his strength much greater than that of regular people. The rock flew far, and when it finally hit the water, the splash could barely be seen by the naked eye.

Somewhat full of himself, Fan Xian thought not even those master martial artists could match his arm strength. Seeing the powerful waves and the birds flying freely overhead, his spirits got a boost from what was around him. He spread his arms wide and roared at the sea.

"Capital, I will arrive one day!"

Wu Zhu still stood there in silence, as if not hearing Fan Xian.

...

...

"What are you going to do?"

Fan Xian blanked out a bit before realizing Wu Zhu, who was always reserved with his words as if they were gold, finally spoke. He answered, smiling: "I'm going to see exactly what the world is like, of course."

"The outside world is dangerous." Wu Zhu said in his usual cold tone. He did not turn around.

Fan Xian shrugged his frail shoulders, looking somewhat mischievous: "with Uncle Wu Zhu protecting me, what would I be afraid of?"

"After the Lady was born, I forgot some things." There was a pause in Wu Zhu's otherwise unchanging tone. "There are many people in this world who could harm me, and naturally they could harm you too."

"Uncle is so modest." Fan Xian laughed sweetly, thinking, "In this still unfamiliar world, I have only you as my bodyguard. If ever you decide to walk away, what would I do?"

"If I was with you in the capital, I would bring you trouble."

Fan Xian raised his head, looking at Wu Zhu's almost eternally expressionless face, and thought for a moment. He then answered, with some embarrassment: "I would protect you."

Wu Zhu finally turned around after hearing this, and intensely "looked" Fan Xian in the eye, and said: "The Lady...she said the same thing."

Fan Xian smiled, knowing part of his shamelessness came from his mother after all.

Chapter 22: "The Poets"

Translator: Nyoi_Bo_Studio Editor: Nyoi_Bo_Studio

"Why do you wish to see this world?" Wu Zhu seemed to be pondering something, "the place you are standing right now, isn't it part of this world?"

Fan Xian didn't know how to answer that question, for he came from another world, and therefore would naturally be curious about many things in this world. Furthermore, he needed to find the answer to a question which had been bothering him for the longest time: How did he end up in this world?

Fei Jie once mentioned the temple six years ago, when he still taught at Danzhou. At the time, Fan Xian thought, "Other than though divine intervention, what else could turn a person dying from illness into the youth he was today?" He had been intrigued by this temple ever since and wanted to see what was inside.

The capital, too, was a place he really wanted to visit. Fan Ruoruo didn't know if she could live a happy life under her stepmother's protection, and left Fei Jie for a few years. Just for a bit, Fan Xian wanted to visit that perverted but cute old man.

Most importantly, because he had been bedridden for so long in his previous life, his current life so far in Danzhou as a child had presented Fan Xian with a jarring contrast. The contrast manifested in Fan Xian's heart like a ball of fire, burning his psyche, stimulating his hopes, making him want to do something, gain something.

Peace and ambition, privilege and happiness, romance and beautiful women… these nouns didn't exactly match each other, they were incompatible. And yet they flashed across Fan Xian's mind. After thinking for a while, he answered carefully: "Since you only live once, the only way to make the most out of this unrepeatable game is to go around seeing different sights and meeting different people."

That was what Fan Xian really thought. During his previous life, he gave a lot of thought on his deathbed on how he would live in his next life, should there ever be one.

Wu Zhu said: "What do you plan to do?"

"First, I must make sure I survive." Fan Xian kneeled to pick up another rock. When he threw it this time, there was no **, and the rock shattered on the reefs below, "which is why I must obtain the means to protect myself."

"And then?"

"I've set three goals for myself."

Wu Zhu quietly listened.

"First, I am going to father many, many children. Second, I am going to write many, many books. And third, I am going to live a very, very nice life."

Fan Xian was extremely calm as he said such absurd things' there wasn't the slightest sign of embarrassment. Deep down, he reasoned that, since this world was not Earth, then as the sole example of a human from Earth, it was his biological duty to pass down the humans' legacy by fathering many children in this world.

At the same time, he believed he also represented the civilizations of Earth. Humanity's accomplishments in art through the millennia could not be found in this world. If he couldn't write (or should it be copy?) many, many books and let literary legacies such as Cao Xueqin's works and "Kill Bill" shine in this ignorant world, he would feel sorry for the sages of this parallel universe living in solitude…and of course, he would feel most sorry for himself.

Naturally, he also saw himself as the only Earthling who could observe this world, and therefore he had to make sure he could live a comfortable life. Only by doing so could he live to a ripe old age and observe for as many years as possible.

It wouldn't be until many years later that Fan Xian finally admitted those were all excuses to rationalize and glorify his hidden desires, his perversion, shamelessness, and greed.

On the cliffs by the sea, Wu Zhu seemed to require some time to fully understand what Fan Xian's three goals really. Calmly, he analyzed: "then you need to marry many wives, find many 'saoke', and hire many servants."

"Saoke?" Fan Xian knew the term but was still unsure what it meant here.

"Scholars in poverty who write manuscripts for other people. They have no rights to authorship."

Fan Xian grinned, he had original planned on making big-names like Old Cao and Old Sha be his ghostwriters and had no need for saoke. As he thought that, Wu Zhu continued his overly simplistic analysis.

"If you are to marry many wives, hire many servants and saoke, then you need to earn a lot of money. If you want to earn a lot of money, then you need a lot of authority. The more authority you need, the closer you must be to this nation's center of power."

Wu Zhu neatly turned around to leave: "As soon as you turn sixteen, we're going back to the capital."

Behind Wu Zhu, Fan Xian stayed where he stood, staring blankly. He had merely expressed some of his not-so-unreasonable ideas, but somehow this slightly mentally-challenged strong one deducted them to be related to a matter of national power, not to mention he just cleanly made decision to go back to the capital—Fan Xian still remembered, on the day he was born, Wu Zhu carried him on his back and escaped from the capital.

Fan Xian didn't know if he should laugh or cry at his current situation, so he slapped himself hard to get out of his trance. He caught up to Wu Zhu, and said: "uncle, I told you what's on my heart, shouldn't you reward me with something?"

"What do you want to know?"

"My mother, why were people after us in the capital?"

"Regarding the Lady, I will tell you everything once you turn sixteen, as that's the Lady's final wish. As for the people after us, you don't need to know, since they all died ten years ago."

When they got back to Danzhou Harbor, it was already noon. Fan Xian parted from Wu Zhu a distance away, and Fan Xian made his way into the city by himself. The people of the city had already gotten used to seeing this young master wander outside on his own. Although there were no wild beasts or dangerous places around, people still felt the Count's estate was too careless regarding the safety of this illegitimate son.

After all, in their eyes, Fan Xian was merely a twelve-year-old boy.

For the Danzhou inhabitants, who lived carefree without needing to pay taxes to the imperial court, they had plenty of spare time to come up with some odd theories. For example, they wondered if the people of the branch house wanted the illegitimate son to get eaten by wild beasts or fall down a cliff.

With that idea in mind, seeing this cute boy live in this supposedly dangerous mansion made their hearts race.

Fan Xian didn't know what they were thinking and kept smiling slightly. Lowering his head just a little, he returned to the Count's estate.

The servants were waiting for him, knowing that he would return to eat. The Countess sat on the old, wooden armchair, her eyes half-closed as if she were sleepy.

Chapter 23: Maokouzi

Translator: Nyoi_Bo_Studio Editor: Nyoi_Bo_Studio

"Young master is back!" a male servant shouted.

All the servants immediately busied themselves with preparing lunch. Fan Xian and the Countess sat opposite each other at a large table in the hall. The table was scattered with a mess of various dishes.

Something was off about this scene. Rather than retreat to the back courtyard to eat, the idle servants simply stared at Fan Xian's chopsticks. Several of the younger servant girls were quietly salivating. They seemed hungry.

This was an unwritten rule in the Count's mansion. Fan Xian stringently demanded it – and the Countess acquiesced – so everybody had gotten used to it long ago. As long as young master Fan was having a meal in the mansion, others could only be permitted to eat after he had personally tasted and approved of each dish.

The servants didn't understand why the young master, who had always been gentle and tender, insisted on such an unreasonable rule. One time, however, Dong'er, the servant who was closest to Fan Xian, tasted the saltiness of his food before Fan Xian did. She was subsequently driven from the mansion by a ferocious Fan Xian. After that, everybody knew that the young master did, after all, have a shameless aristocratic side to him.

When Dong'er cried and left, the Countess just stared at her coolly without a word.

The entire mansion was silent, except for the sounds of Fan Xian chewing and sipping soup. All of the servants quietly stood beside him with their arms at their sides obediently. Like all noble households, whatever food the master didn't eat was always sent to the servants' quarters as a reward, so Fan Xian ate less of each dish. He just picked away at the food with his chopsticks.

He ate slowly and carefully, with thin lips pressing and relaxing like two beams of light opening and closing.

The Countess was gently caressing a statue and mouthing a silent prayer.

After a long time, Fan Xian had tasted each dish. He laughed sweetly with bright, beaming eyes. He pointed at a plate of stir-fried bamboo shoots and told one of the servants, "This one's good."

The servant girls breathed a sigh of relief and began to fill their bowls with rice. The idle servants could finally go to the back courtyard, but another servant went to the kitchen and brought the remaining stir-fried bamboo shoots out to the hall, placing them in front of Fan Xian.

"Help yourself, ma'am."

Fan Xian stood up, saluted the Countess, and received the bowl of food with both hands before politely placing it in front of the Countess. He repeatedly added the stir-fried bamboo shoots into his bowl, munching on them with a pleasant expression. On his handsome face, that kind of smile seemed exceptionally grotesque, as though he'd finally found something he'd been after for a long time.

For some reason, the servant girls standing to the side, upon seeing the smile on the 12-year-old boy's face, couldn't help but shiver as they recalled the powerful smack that Zhou the housekeeper took that morning.

...

...

"I'll go to my room to finish my meal."

Fan Xian told the servants this before taking a plate of stir-fried bamboo shoots and a bowl of white race and going to his room in the side courtyard. It was very impolite of him to leave before his elder had finished her meal, but the Countess didn't say anything.

In his bedroom, he ate some emetic powder and then started poking his fingers down his throat. After digging around for a while, he finally vomited out the remnants of the meal. He then immediately took several pills he had prepared himself out of the drawer and washed them down with fresh water. He directed his zhenqi throughout his entire body and discovered there didn't seem to be any problems. This finally put him at ease.

He looked at the plate of stir-fried bamboo shoots. Smiling bitterly, he dumped them out into the chamber pot behind his bed – they had been poisoned with maokouzi, a method often used by the secret agents in the Council of Auditors.

Maokouzi is a beautiful, tangerine-like fruit which grows in the southern islands. Its flowers emit a strange, pungent odor and its fruit contains poison.

When the fruit's juice is mixed with food, the dish is unlikely to change color and it will still smell normal. On the contrary, it will actually make the dish more fragrant. It was frequently used by the spies of the Council of Auditors in carrying out assassinations. After entering the body, the poison takes effect that night, when the victim convulses before dying. This is very similar to death by infection, thus making it difficult to divine the true cause of death.

As the only student of Fei Jie, the inventor of this poison in the Council of Auditors, Fan Xian immediately identified its slightly bitter taste when he tried the stir-fried bamboo shoots. The murderer was actually quite clever, for they knew to mix the maokouzi fruit juice with bamboo shoots, which were themselves bitter.

The reason Fan Xian didn't immediately leave the Countess just now to purge the poison was to keep her from being frightened. Now, he suddenly felt scared when he considered that if it had been some kind of fast-acting poison, instead of maokouzi, he'd already be dead.

Fan Xian took his teacher's advice in always being attentive to his diet. He worried that his aunt in the capital might strike a vicious blow. That's why he had to cause such an odd scene while eating just now. To keep the servants safe from any poison, he requested that he taste each dish before anybody else could begin eating. He was like the eunuch in the imperial palace responsible for testing each dish before the emperor could eat it.

Though Fan Xian believed his own life was more important than anybody else's, he wasn't willing to have innocent people die for him.

———————————————————————

Seeing that the young master had come to the kitchen, the servants quickly stood up and offered him a stool. "Younger Master, are you still hungry? Do you want to eat something?" one of them asked with a smile.

Fan Xian smiled and said, "Those stir-fried bamboo shoots were delicious."

The chef standing next to him laughed, "I'm glad you enjoyed them."

"Yes, they were quite fresh. When were they bought?" Fan Xian nodded enthusiastically and asked carefully.

"We bought them this morning, so of course they were fresh."

"Oh, right. Did any outsiders enter the kitchen today?"

"Mr. Ha, who normally delivers food, was ill. His nephew came instead."

"Alright then. I should get going." Fan Xian took a piece of smoked meat from the plate the chef offered. He ate it and, smiling bashfully, said, "Don't tell the Countess that I came down here to pilfer food."

When Fan Xian left, the servants began talking about him. They all commended the character of the Count's illegitimate son, saying he was free of any aristocratic vices. It was just that… his rules for eating were a little too much.

In an alleyway in Danzhou Harbor, Fan Xian was scaling the back wall of some building with his hook-like fingers. When he exerted his strength, he was like a climbing civet cat. He was at the food delivery man Mr. Ha's house.

For many years, there were a total of only a dozen or so servants at the Count's mansion, all of which were natives of Danzhou Harbor, with the exception of several maids who had been replaced. So Fan Xian didn't suspect any of them. Though Fan Xian had met Mr. Ha before, he thought it was strange that he should fall ill at such an opportune moment.

Mr. Ha's room was pitch black, but for Fan Xian, it was as bright as daytime. He quietly slipped into the room and smelled a trace of blood in the air.