Chapter 4 The Fierce Aunt
Teng——!
A curtain of sword light cascaded down in front of the bed.
The bed is in a cramped space with no room to move around.
Ouyang Rong suddenly opened his eyes, but instead of a blade, he was met with a roar: "You still dare to say the mansion is alright! You're in this state... you bald monk, prepare to die!"
He was taken aback and turned his head.
The dark blue "police officer's uniform" that was originally in front of the bed was now rushing towards the half-shiny "egg" sticking out from outside the door.
"How could the county magistrate be in trouble? I'm innocent! I'm innocent!" Xiufa quickly turned and ran away.
"The magistrate has lost control of his bladder in bed; it's clearly a stroke or catatonia, and you temple call this 'rest and recuperation'? You son of a bitch!"
"Ah...this...how could this be? It's a misunderstanding, it must be a misunderstanding...Officer, put down your knife, let me explain, let me explain..."
"Go on with the explanation. I've put up with you for too long. Today I'll take your dog's head."
"!!!"
Hearing the two people outside having a "race against time" in the corridor, Ouyang Rong paused, looked down at the water-stained bedding, and realized he hadn't had time to dry his hands before crawling back into bed...
But you two are really a pair of clowns.
Ouyang Rong remained silent.
Just as he was hesitating whether to go out and try to stop the medical dispute, a surprised voice suddenly came from outside, "Host, you're finally here! Please save me..."
Several people appeared at the entrance of Sanhui Temple. The two leading figures were an old monk with a white beard and a woman in a silk skirt.
The little monk with the long hair shrank behind the former like a monkey.
"Put down your knives! What are you doing in the yard? Where is my beloved?" It was the woman in the silk skirt who stepped forward first, frowning as she spoke.
The woman was quite tall, looked to be over thirty, had a mole on the corner of her mouth, and naturally exuded a dignified and stern air. However, she looked tired, as if she had just arrived from a long journey. Behind her were several maids and servants carrying bags and boxes, who also looked similarly exhausted.
Yan Wuxu didn't care about any of that. Still furious, he grabbed a sharp knife and rushed forward, yelling and shouting.
"Please step aside for now, let this old monk handle this." The white-bearded old monk stepped forward, calmly stopping the woman in the silk skirt and reassuring his disciple behind him.
The old monk, dressed in a black robe and with his white beard neatly groomed, gave the first impression of being wise, profound, and serene.
The abbot of Donglin Temple gently twirled his prayer beads, then addressed the charging constables with knives with a stern expression: "Namo Amitabha, young benefactor Yan, please calm down. Let's talk this out. Put down your weapons first..."
"Bullshit! He was awake just two days ago, and now he's been treated to the point of being bedridden and incontinent. None of you bald monks from Donglin Temple can escape this fate. I'll chop you all down!" The hot-blooded Yan Wuxu didn't say another word and swung his sword down on the head.
“If you do this, I can’t… Ah! This!” The abbot’s clasped hands, clasped together as he hung prayer beads, trembled.
The next second, a flash of light appeared, and only the broken string of prayer beads remained on the spot.
It turned out that the host and his beautiful apprentice had cleverly dodged to the side.
The sandalwood prayer beads flew through the air, then landed at their feet, and bounced up again... For a moment, they were like large and small pearls falling onto a jade plate.
Unexpectedly, this abbot, who looked to be in his seventies or eighties, was surprisingly agile, as nimble as a monkey, just like his disciple.
The old man and the young man stared wide-eyed at the broken string of the rosary beads, wiping away cold sweat.
"Benefactor, killing is forbidden in this sacred Buddhist site!"
"You two bald monks, give me your heads!"
Seeing that the reckless constable had missed his first attack and wanted to try again, the master and apprentice chased each other and ran away.
However, despite the gleaming blades under the blazing sun, one person on the field refused to retreat.
"Female Bodhisattva, run! Constable Yan is furious..." the old monk shouted urgently, gesturing with his hand.
The woman in the silk skirt flipped her hand, grabbed the bundle and stick from the shoulder of the timid maid behind her, glared at her, and pursed her lips as she charged forward.
The tip of the stick cut a long arc in the air.
One pat, one contraction, another poke, and another flick.
A sharp knife escaped from the throbbing tiger's mouth and flew into the sky.
"Don't show off your skills in front of me. Where is my beloved?" The woman in the silk skirt threw the stick behind her and demanded sharply.
Yan Wuxu was stunned. He looked up at the sword. Even the abbot and his disciples, who were running away with their heads in their hands, stopped in their tracks and looked at the seemingly weak and powerless woman.
Ding-dong Ping-dong
Swords clashed and fell to the ground. Silence descended upon the courtyard and the surrounding area.
"What 'sir'? Who are you looking for?" Yan Wuxu seemed to have been doused with cold water, trying to calm down.
The host straightened his posture and reluctantly began, "This is the county magistrate's aunt, Madam Zhen. She just arrived from the county magistrate's hometown, Nanlong..."
Yan Wuxu glared angrily at the abbot and Xiu Fa, and interrupted, "The magistrate was awake just two days ago, but today he has already suffered a stroke and is in a state of catatonia!"
The woman in the silk skirt froze, as if struck by lightning. The maids behind her also wailed in unison.
Xiufa hurriedly waved her hand: "It must be a misunderstanding. Incontinence in bed could be due to other reasons..."
"Still dare to argue!" Yan Wuxu lunged forward bare-handed, grabbing her by the back of her neck and preparing to deliver a blow with his fist, as big as a sandbag...
"I'm fine." Ouyang Rong, wearing only a thin shirt, walked out of the house.
The entire room fell silent.
The young magistrate, barely twenty, gazed at the myriad figures in the courtyard and said weakly, "I didn't... I didn't lose control of my bladder. It was just water from the basin that spilled... Officer Yan was too eager to get medical help and misunderstood."
This needs to be explained immediately, otherwise it will become a stain on his reputation for life. But actually, he's more annoyed by the inhuman design of the tabi socks and boots right now—how can they be so hard to put on? It took him ages to finally get the shoes on and go out…
With an unchanged expression, he instructed, "Officer Xiao Yan, release Xiu Fa and the abbot. Aunt..." He turned his head, and after some familiar memories surfaced, he immediately changed his words, "Aunt, how have you been? Your nephew is fine. I'm sorry to have troubled you again..."
Before Ouyang Rong could finish speaking, a beautiful figure rushed towards him like a gust of wind, almost knocking him back into the house. However, someone immediately helped him steady himself—he was already in the broad embrace of a woman in a flowing skirt—he only needed to enjoy the warm harbor provided by his family, but this aunt... was a bit fierce.
With her chin resting on her nephew's shoulder, her eyes slightly red, she murmured breathlessly, "It's good that you didn't have a stroke and wet the bed, it's good that you didn't have a stroke and wet the bed... You are the only male in our Ouyang family, the only one who can study. If anything were to happen to you, how could I face your parents and uncle in the afterlife... As long as my nephew is alright, as long as he doesn't wet the bed, I'm not afraid anymore, I'm not afraid anymore..."
The woman in the red skirt, who had been worried and frightened all the way, kept muttering to herself, still looking quite shaken.
"..." Ouyang Rong was speechless. Can we not mention this blunder about bedwetting?
However, it is understandable. In this era of slow travel, a stroke or vegetative state meant a crueler torture than death for a student from a poor family who was expected to rise up, and the same was true for their family.
He whispered in her ear, "Auntie, please stop talking. There are outsiders here."
Zhen loosened her embrace, glanced at him, and whispered:
"You're embarrassed about that? When you were little, you wet the bed, and I was the one who helped your mother change your sheets. I had just married into the family then... But then again, you've already reached the age of twenty in the blink of an eye, and you're already a county magistrate. You've even been to the capital and met the emperor, and seen great people and grand scenes that your aunt has never seen... It's time to find a suitable marriage match."
Ouyang Rong just smiled and pretended not to hear the following sentence.
On the other side, Yan Wuxu stared at the living magistrate for a while, then quietly let go of his hair, not forgetting to reach out and touch the little bald head, seemingly a little embarrassed, "Magistrate, I, I was just scared, it wasn't intentional, I... I apologize to the two masters! I spoke a little too loudly just now."
"Young Constable Yan, there's no need for..." The young magistrate seemed about to say a few words of reassurance, but the next second he suddenly looked around in confusion: "Who's striking the wooden fish?"
Lady Zhen asked curiously, "What's with the wooden fish? We're all alone here. Is my husband still feeling dizzy?"
The abbot pulled out a new string of prayer beads from somewhere, put his hands together, and said, "Benefactor Ouyang, why don't you come inside and rest for a while, and I'll take your pulse again?"
Ouyang Rong did not respond, silently looking ahead. Right in front of him stood the young novice monk, Xiu Fa, who was quietly trying to break free from Yan Wuxu's gentle, affectionate pat on the head.
Seeing that everyone was looking at her in the same direction as Ouyang Rong, Xiu Fa looked bewildered and lost.
However, only Ouyang Rong himself knew that what he was staring at was... the lingering shadow of a familiar tower before him.
"No wonder that wooden fish sounded so familiar!" Ouyang Rong thought belatedly.
"Tanlang...don't scare your aunt." Zhen Shi grasped Ouyang Rong's arm, her slightly sharp yet gentle phoenix eyes looking at him cautiously.
No one dared to breathe loudly, and the young magistrate, who exuded authority without anger, quickly regained his composure.
"I'm fine." He smiled.
From the moment we left until now, the twists and turns have been so dramatic that everyone has finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Madam Zhen instructed the servants to rest, and Ouyang Rong also gave Yan Wuxu a few words of advice. Everyone laughed and went inside to talk.
Ouyang Rong remained composed throughout.
It was really nothing serious, nothing to brag about. He just happened to see a familiar-looking pagoda, a familiar sight to many.
...
——
(P.S.: A friendly reminder that this is not a system novel. Also, the first dozen or so chapters are a slow burn and build-up. If you want to jump straight to the story of controlling the floods, you can skip to chapter nineteen.)
(End of this chapter)
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
