Chapter 63: Drawing a Line on the Ground for Prisoners
Prince Changshan returned to Leiting Manor, in fact, to bid farewell. He stayed only a day or two before leaving on horseback with his entourage. The young prince's expression betrayed a complete loss of interest in the grudges of the martial arts world and the Zhao Prince's rebellion. Before departing, he taunted Feng Yanyuan with a single sarcasm: "If I don't leave now, I'm afraid this fellow will sever all ties with me. We've known each other for nearly a decade, and I had no idea he valued women over friendship."
The sound of horse hooves gradually faded away.
Feng Yanyuan turned around and saw Yun Yuan still staring at the group's backs in a trance. He stretched out his hand to block her eyes and frowned, "What are you still looking at? Are you still thinking about learning archery from the prince?"
Yun Yuan came back to her senses after hearing this, and smiled, "Who wants to learn that heavy and hard bow? But your crossbow, which was supposed to fire twenty shots in a row, got stuck after only three. Are you kidding me?"
Feng Yanyuan chuckled, "It was done in a hurry. Let's fix it today. Let's go. Fix it right away."
Feng Yanyuan turned around and went back to the manor. His white robe was lifted up by the morning breeze, and his sleeves fluttered like crane wings.
Yun Yuan then stepped into the manor gate. When she raised her hand to close the vermilion lacquered door, her fingertips paused slightly. She couldn't help but look outside again - the valley was shrouded in misty fog, and the sea of clouds was surging. It was clearly very different from when she first saw it.
She recalled the Feng family's deception in Moon Valley. Could it be... that he had set up a Wind God Formation here?
For the next few days, Lei Ting Manor seemed like a paradise. Only Yuan Fengwei quietly came and went, bringing back the storms of the martial arts world thousands of miles away.
Soon, when Yun Yuan was giving medicine to Yue Nancang, she heard about the changes in Yuzhou.
As expected, Gu Yue arranged everything perfectly.
The letter of challenge from Bagong Mountain had become a gilded invitation bearing the governor's personal seal. Disciples from various sects, bearing the invitation, came seeking their leader, converging in the square in front of the governor's residence into a sea of swords and sabers. Furthermore, those brave men who still had blood in their veins, along with those wanderers who had heard the news, came for loyalty, rewards, or fame. From the crowd, they shouted, "When will the fight begin?" "The government is making fun of us!"
The Yuzhou government was in turmoil, the streets abuzz with activity. Merchants rushed to join in the excitement and make a quick buck. Storytellers in teahouses reworked their stories overnight, bringing the "Governor's Challenge" story to life. Distilleries took advantage of the situation by raising the price of their Xinghuachun wine, but it still sold out. Even the fortune-telling stalls were lined with long lines, filled with warriors seeking advice on the fortunes of a duel.
In Luoyang, the aristocratic families, long at odds with the Prince of Zhao, seized the opportunity to stir up trouble. They couldn't touch the Prince of Zhao, let alone a lackey governor? Memorials flew across the imperial court like snowflakes, some ostensibly seeking justice for the "righteous men of the Jianghu" and the "people of the world," others seeking to clear the name of the Yuzhou Governor.
Yuzhou Governor Liu Huai was like being roasted on a charcoal fire.
If we were to use the same tactics as the enemy and set up a ring, those old men, still strong enough, wouldn't they obey? And the Prince of Zhao has been avoiding him as much as possible lately, sending three letters but all of them have fallen on deaf ears. If this matter implicates the prince, not only will his crown be in jeopardy, but even his head will be in danger.
Fortunately, he always knew how to handle the situation. So, just as the Imperial Censorate's envoys, accompanied by their Tiger Guards, approached the Crossbow Fort, a dramatic scene unfolded: several sect leaders suddenly appeared at the Governor's residence, each leading their disciples and departing. Within three days, an imperial edict arrived: the Governor of Yuzhou was fined a year's salary for "neglecting his duties and allowing his private seal to be forged." This light punishment seemed to put a respectable stamp on the farce.
Feng Jiu was beaming with joy when he reported this.
"Prince Zhao's schemes were so complicated that the King of Huainan was able to prevent the conflict, but at the very end, he was tricked by a master. The duck that was about to be caught flew away. I'm afraid he will be so angry that he will throw the cup!" He laughed heartily and suddenly asked, "Sir, who do you think is behind this?"
Feng Yanyuan and Yue Lao exchanged a smile, then shook their heads in silence, concluding that the King of Zhao had lost support due to his unrighteousness. Feng Jiu, however, had already made up his mind—in fact, most people in the martial arts world probably shared the same sentiment. Who else could have the power to turn the tide except the now-popular King of Huainan?
Aside from the occasional whispers of the world, Lei Ting Manor was practically isolated from the world, a sanctuary forgotten by time. Even the birds that flew over the walls seemed like carefully selected guests, their wings brushing the eaves without a trace of noise, their cries restrained to a precise degree, as if afraid to disturb the tranquility.
Sometimes Feng Yanyuan played chess with Yue Nancang, the black and white pieces dropping with clanging sounds; sometimes he refined Yun Yuan's crossbow mechanism, teaching her how to harness the wind, observe the terrain, and take targets while moving. In just a few days, Yun Yuan was able to soar on leaves and fire arrows through the air, with a demeanor reminiscent of a fleeting glimpse.
Unfortunately, this specially crafted crossbow needle couldn't be wasted, so after each practice session, she would search the courtyard collecting needles and awls. One day, she leaped up, unleashing an arrow that pierced the ancient tree's upper branches, embedding the needle so deeply in the trunk that not even the end could be seen. Yun Yuan clung to the tree like a woodpecker, gouging with her short blade for a long time before finally exposing the needle tip. Then, using both her hands and feet, she hung onto the branch and exerted her strength—the needle was extracted, but the recoil sent her careening, sending her crashing backwards.
As soon as he sat up, he found Feng Yanyuan standing under the tree. A look of surprise flashed across his face, and he couldn't suppress the smile at the corners of his lips. His eyes were filled with a mischievous smile, and he looked like he was watching the fun.
"I've been practicing crossbows for a few days, but how come my Qinggong skills have been ruined?"
When had this person arrived here? Was he waiting to see her embarrass herself? She had just stood up when a sharp pain suddenly stabbed in her ankle, and her body lurched back to the ground. Just as she was about to fall into the mud again, Feng Yanyuan reached out with his long arms, firmly grasping her slender waist and pulling her into his arms.
Yun Yuan frowned and pushed him away with her elbow. She squatted down to check her ankle, but the man suddenly picked her up without saying anything and sneered, "You can even straighten your own bones? How could you do that?"
He placed her on a stone pier, clasped her slender ankle with one hand, and swiftly removed her embroidered shoes. Yun Yuan hurriedly tried to stop him, but he grabbed her wrist and fended her off, shaking the embroidered shoes in his hand. "Do you still want me to clean the soles of your shoes?"
His palms were warm and strong. One hand held her ankle firmly, the other lifted the arch of her foot. His fingertips caressed the sensitive sole, causing her toes to curl slightly. He twisted his wrist slightly, rocking it back and forth with a touch of tentative force. He tightened his knuckles and applied force suddenly. There was a subtle click, like a misaligned gear finally snapping into place. The momentary soreness barely dissipated before it transformed into a wave of relaxing warmth, flowing from her ankle all the way up to her knee.
"Okay." He released his hand, gently scraped the inside of her ankle with his fingertips, and said with a smile, "Try it, does it still hurt?"
When Yun Yuan stood up, she looked up and saw Feng Yanyuan's face that couldn't help laughing. She couldn't help but frown - this man looked like he was deliberately teasing her.
Besides practicing archery, she also never slacked off in her medicine making. While the poison of impermanence still had no antidote, she had managed to replicate her father's Jade Blood Resurrection Pill from memory. When Yun Yuan presented the shimmering blue pill to Elder Yue, the old man's dry, branch-like fingers trembled uncontrollably, and he repeatedly exclaimed, "Good, good..."
She had memorized her father's prescriptions since childhood, and Hanmei Powder was formulated accordingly. However, her prescriptions focused on neutralizing all poisons, while her father's Resurrection Pills focused more on warming the blood and qi, limiting their effectiveness to those poisons that blocked the breath and caused blood to clot. Thinking of this, Yun Yuan couldn't help but feel sad—her father was a true pharmacist, his prescriptions healed a myriad of ailments. Yet, over the years, she had devoted all her energy to detoxification.
Countless sleepless nights had passed, as she yearned to concoct a poison potent enough to rival the forces of fate, to inflict upon Feng Xiaoming a taste of its heart-wrenching pain. But every time her fingertips touched the medicine grinder, her father's teachings, like shackles, bound her: "The Mo Heart Technique represents the compassion of a physician, not a poison." These words had long been ingrained in her blood, a shackle she could never break free of. Looking at the pill in her palm, Yun Yuan felt a sudden sense of irony. The human body, with its myriad limbs and meridians, could be fatal in a matter of moments, yet the detoxification required a lifetime of study. This flesh and blood body, after all, was too fragile.
Sometimes, Yun Yuan would gaze at Feng Yanyuan's moon-like silhouette as he drew his bow, lost in thought, and for a moment, he would yearn for this peaceful tranquility. In the lingering sound of the trembling bowstring, even time seemed to stretch out.
But this is not the peace she deserves.
Every few days, she'd use the excuse of being short of herbs and write a list to the Far Wind Guards for them. When the boxes returned, she'd always examine them over and over again, meticulously touching even the corners and joints. One day, her fingertips suddenly stopped at the bottom of one of the boxes—Xuanhetang usually carved patterns corresponding to herbs on the bottoms of its boxes, but the pattern on the "Artemisia sparrow" in front of her was slightly different from what she remembered.
She turned the medicine box over and looked at the bird pattern on the bottom. She took out the personal sachet from her bosom and spread out the bird feather pattern on the sachet. When the two feather patterns overlapped, every feather fit perfectly. This box was indeed the letter delivered by You Xiao!
She put away the sachet and carefully stroked the dark pattern on the box. It was originally a gray-headed bunting with its wings spread, but now under her fingertips, although the outline of the flying bird was still there, the bird's eyes were empty.
Yun Yuan frowned slightly.
It's Wuyi.
It seems that You Xiao has already reunited with her, and Wu Yiruo's message to her means that she already knows Feng Xiaoming's whereabouts.
Yun Yuan's chest tightened slightly.
A sudden draft blew through the window, ruffling her drooping hair.
Although Lei Ting Manor was covered in a veil and she couldn't leave, there were still ways to leave.
Smoke curled from the medicine cauldron, and the bitter aroma of medicine filled the air. In a trance, the events since joining the Feng family flashed by like a revolving lantern—calculated moves, unexpected luck, and... those unexpected fluctuations. She blinked, her vision blurring.
She understood why Feng Yanyuan had confined himself and her to this tiny space, a prison of his own. But she dared not dwell on it. Some thoughts, if delved into, would only confuse her mind and render her decisions difficult. Just like now, she had to shatter this illusory peace with her own hands, without room for greed.
In fact, from the day Feng Yanxuan stepped into Shouchun, the countdown to her departure had already begun.
The medicine was boiling hot, so she picked up the bowl and drank it all in one gulp.
What happened later was just as she expected.
She stumbled to Feng Yanyuan's room and collapsed to the ground just as she knocked on the door. The moment the door opened, she felt her body go light as he frantically lifted her up. His usually calm voice lost its composure. Without even the slightest effort to call for a carriage, he simply carried her onto his horse and galloped towards Xuanhe Hall.
As the night wind howled, she leaned in his arms, listening to his rapid heartbeat, and suddenly felt that the medicine seemed too bitter.
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