Chapter Twenty-Nine: Yongle and Good Fortune

Yongle Town lies deep within the heartland of Taizhou in the State of Zhao. Its eastern, southern, and western flanks are hemmed in by a wild array of steep mountains and jagged peaks, rarely traversed by man. Only to the north runs an official road, connecting the various provinces and counties of Zhao. The lands around Yongle are rich in ores and medicinal herbs, drawing merchants from far and wide, and the official road is thus bustling with activity.

On this particular evening, a carriage appeared upon the road. Driving it was a man clad in green, about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old. His features were handsome, but his beard was unkempt and his gaze desolate, giving him the air of a down-and-out scholar.

Within the carriage, behind a bamboo curtain, sat a shadowy figure whose graceful silhouette suggested she was a woman.

At the rear, upon a wooden rack, lounged a youth dressed in gray, perhaps sixteen or seventeen. He leaned against the carriage, a sword held in his arms, a willow leaf between his lips, his feet dangling and swaying with the carriage’s jolts, utterly unaware. A closer inspection would reveal his eyes shut and his breathing even—he was asleep atop the moving carriage.

Suddenly, something was tossed from the window inside, landing squarely on the youth’s forehead. He startled awake and caught it—a mandarin orange.

From within came a playful, scolding voice: "Sleep, sleep, sleep! That’s all you do! You haven’t uttered a single word along the way. What use are you to me if you’re just a sword boy?"

The man driving laughed, "Young Brother Liang is truly the strangest person I’ve ever met. No matter the road, main or side, he can sleep right there on the wooden beam of the carriage. I am most impressed!"

These three upon the carriage were, of course, Chen Zhuo’an, Tang Diexian, and Liang Yan. Liang Yan peeled the orange and tossed a segment into his mouth, speaking as he ate, "Travel is dull. There’s nothing to do but sleep. I need to be well-rested to help Brother Chen, after all."

"Pah! With your meager skills, you need only hand me the sword when the time comes. Watch as I wipe out those bandits to the last!"

"Certainly! Miss Tang’s martial prowess is renowned across the land. I’ll do my part as your attendant."

"Hmph, at least you know your place..."

Tang Diexian was about to say more when Chen Zhuo’an called out from the front, "We’re here! There, ahead, is Yongle Town."

Liang Yan turned to look. At the end of the road stood a stone stele with the words "Yongle Town" carved upon it. Beyond the stele lay their destination.

"This Yongle Town is quite large. They call it a town, but it’s almost like a small city, isn’t it?" Tang Diexian asked.

Chen Zhuo’an nodded, "Indeed. Its unique location and abundance of minerals and herbs mean it sends tributes to the court every year. Naturally, it’s much larger than most towns."

As the carriage rolled slowly into town, Liang Yan observed that Yongle was indeed more prosperous than the Huaiyuan Town where he had once lived. Though dusk was falling, the streets were still crowded and lively. Suddenly, his heart skipped—a glance off to the side of the street.

There stood a middle-aged man wearing a square cap, holding a straw rack studded with candied hawthorns, offering them to passersby with a friendly smile.

"Qi Refining, fifth stage!" Liang Yan marveled inwardly. "How peculiar—cultivators are usually aloof, reluctant to mingle with ordinary folk. Why is someone of such cultivation selling candied hawthorns on the street? His aura is faint—he must possess some secret technique or artifact to conceal his strength. If not for my own 'Rogue Arts,' I’d never have noticed."

He watched the man for a while. Though the hawthorn seller seemed busy touting his wares, his eyes frequently scanned the street, as if searching for something. Liang Yan felt a chill and quickly withdrew his gaze, wary of exposing himself.

"It seems the goings-on in Yongle Town are far from simple..."

The carriage rumbled on, stopping before an inn. Liang Yan hopped out and looked up to see the sign reading "Laifu Inn."

Chen Zhuo’an also disembarked, saying to Liang Yan, "We’ve arrived. The Laifu Inn is run by my wife and me."

Liang Yan smiled, "So 'Laifu of Yongle' refers to this establishment!"

"Laifu Inn—a fine name!" Tang Diexian jumped down as well, her large eyes surveying the surroundings.

Chen Zhuo’an, smiling, led them into the inn’s courtyard. They had barely entered before a voice rang out from the main hall: "Yue Da, are you brainless? The guest said no tea in the morning, and yet you went and knocked on their door, disturbing their peace. Do you want me to make sure you regret it?"

---

The speaker was a woman, her voice crisp and clear. Though scolding, it sounded more like the chatter of a lively songbird than anything unpleasant.

Chen Zhuo’an frowned slightly and strode into the hall, Liang Yan and Tang Diexian close behind. Behind the counter stood a woman in red, petite but shapely, with willow brows, phoenix eyes, and lips as thin as cicada wings, painted a bright vermilion. Her delicate features, which should have belonged to a gentle beauty, were set off by a strikingly prominent nose, giving her an air of boldness.

Liang Yan was momentarily startled—the woman in red bore a resemblance to Lin Xiaomei, whom he had met before, though Lin was even more spirited, while this woman had a fiercer, livelier look.

Hearing footsteps, the woman in red turned and met Chen Zhuo’an’s gaze. She froze, her eyes locked onto him, and after a moment, she ran to him with tears glimmering, softly calling, "Zhuo’an..." and threw herself into his arms.

Chen Zhuo’an patted her back gently, "Min Rou, you’ve worked hard." Then he said, "Allow me to introduce my distant cousin, Tang Diexian." Turning to Tang Diexian, he added, "This is my wife, Min Rou."

Tang Diexian smiled and nodded, "You two are truly a perfect match—a union made in heaven!"

Min Rou blushed and replied happily, "Sister, you’re so charming. You look like a goddess from a painting, ten times prettier than me! You’ll have suitors lining up in droves."

Tang Diexian, still a young girl, flushed at the compliment, and stole a glance at Liang Yan, who seemed deep in thought as he studied Min Rou.

Seeing this, she bristled, glaring and stomping hard on Liang Yan’s foot.

Liang Yan winced, "Ow!" and snapped, "Why stomp me for no reason?"

"You’re my sword boy. I can stomp you as I please, can’t I?"

Liang Yan scowled inwardly, cursing, "Madwoman!"

Chen Zhuo’an chuckled, "You must both be weary from traveling. My wife will arrange rooms for you to rest tonight."

But Min Rou’s face stiffened in embarrassment, "That’s unfortunate. Most rooms are occupied, and the remaining few are already reserved. Only one room is left on the west side of the second floor..."

"No problem!" Tang Diexian cut in sharply, pointing at Liang Yan, "Just put him in the stable. He’s just a servant—anywhere will do."

Chen Zhuo’an and Min Rou were both taken aback, though Chen Zhuo’an, experienced as he was, sensed that the relationship between this master and servant was not so simple. Though he didn't know why Tang Diexian spoke so harshly, he could hardly consign Liang Yan to the stable.

Thus he laughed, "No need for that. Though the rooms are full, there’s a woodshed in the inner courtyard we use for storing firewood. If you don’t mind, Brother Liang, I’ll set up a bed there for you."

Liang Yan smiled wryly, "A bed is all I need. I’m not picky. Sorry to trouble you, Brother Chen."

"No trouble at all. If anything, it’s our lack of hospitality. Please forgive us!" Chen Zhuo’an exchanged a glance with Min Rou, who smiled and took Tang Diexian upstairs to find a room.

Once they left, Chen Zhuo’an said, "Follow me, Brother Liang."

Liang Yan nodded and followed him into a room in the inner courtyard, where stacks of dry firewood were piled. Chen Zhuo’an asked him to wait and went out to fetch bedding, which he arranged for Liang Yan, apologizing, "I’m afraid you'll have to put up with this tonight."

Liang Yan waved it off, "No matter—the place is dry and sheltered, and it’s the only room in the inn of its kind. I’ll enjoy the solitude."

Chen Zhuo’an laughed heartily, "You’re a true man of spirit, Brother Liang. I like you. I live on the third floor—if you need anything, come find me."

After a few more courtesies, Chen Zhuo’an left.

Liang Yan was alone in the woodshed, darkness all around, though outside the window the moon hung high and the stars glittered—a rare and beautiful night.

---

Moonlight spilled through the window, bathing him in its pale glow. Liang Yan’s mind drifted, and he seemed to return six years ago, lying by the window in his old house in Huaiyuan Town, the moonlight lazy upon his bed. In the room next door, his father, Liang Xuan, slept, his snores rising and falling—so familiar, yet somehow distant.

Six years of cultivation, he had tasted every hardship, but to him it felt as fleeting as a white colt crossing a gap—barely worth mentioning. Instead, the happy days in Huaiyuan Town were vivid in his mind, as if only yesterday.

He did not know how long he lingered thus, lost in memory, almost intoxicated. Suddenly, a warning prickle ran through him. He turned and saw, beneath the woodshed’s door, a shadow stretched long by the moonlight.

The figure stood outside for a while, unmoving. As Liang Yan puzzled over this, the door creaked inward. He sprang up, hand reaching for the pouch at his waist.

A waft of fragrance drifted in as the door opened. Before him stood a slender girl, clad in white, her long dress cinched with a sky-blue sash. She stood poised and elegant, her skin like jade, her eyes shining like stars, a vision from a painting.

Liang Yan saw who it was and blurted, "Senior Sister Tang—why..."

Tang Diexian shot him a glare, "Outside, you must call me Miss Tang, blockhead. You’ve forgotten again?"

Liang Yan recovered and smiled ruefully, "Didn’t Miss Tang say I should sleep in the stable? What orders do you have for me in the middle of the night?"

He waited, but there was no response. Curious, he looked up. Tang Diexian bit her lip, her head bowed. After a long pause, she murmured, "Did I speak too harshly earlier? Are you angry with me?"

Liang Yan quickly replied, "I’m not angry. I quite like it here. I just don’t understand why you suddenly lost your temper."

Tang Diexian retorted, "If you hadn’t kept staring at Sister Min Rou, I wouldn’t have had to stomp you!"

Liang Yan smacked his forehead, "So you noticed?"

Tang Diexian was confused, "Noticed what?"

Liang Yan replied, "Those two aren’t normal. Chen Zhuo’an acts awkwardly around Min Rou, nothing like a husband. Min Rou seems much more like a wife, but her delight upon seeing Chen Zhuo’an was over the top—not like a couple briefly parted, but as if she’d found a lover lost for years."

Tang Diexian frowned, "Is that so?"

Liang Yan nodded, "Yes! Wait, didn’t you stomp me because you saw me staring at them and worried they’d suspect something?"

"I..." Tang Diexian was tongue-tied, then grumbled, "I’m nothing like you, you little trickster, full of schemes!" Though she said this, her heart lightened: "So this little rascal wasn’t captivated by Sister Min Rou’s beauty—I’ve wronged him."

Looking around the woodshed, Tang Diexian saw its dilapidated state and the occasional squeak of mice, and felt a twinge of guilt. After a long pause, she whispered, "Since you look so pitiful, I’ll allow you... allow you to move to my room tonight... but you must sleep on the floor..."

Her voice grew softer and softer, barely audible at the end.

Liang Yan’s heart raced. He looked at her—her eyes glanced elsewhere, her porcelain cheeks flushed pink to her ears, her hands clasped behind her back, standing in the moonlight like a lotus just emerged, impossibly beautiful.

Liang Yan felt dry-mouthed, hot blood rushing to his head, his mind blank. He wanted to speak, but could not find the words...

Just then, his ears caught a sound—someone vaulting over the roof in the southeast corner. Liang Yan snapped alert, thinking, "Right—Yongle Town is rife with hidden dangers. If I let my guard down like just now, our lives might be forfeit."

With that, he shook his head and regained his composure, saying quietly, "The night is long, and I fear there may be other matters requiring our attention."