Ji Yuwei no longer asked her about returning home, leaning lazily against the armrest as he absentmindedly gazed at the beautiful slaves ahead.
Wu Ping’an, noticing his lack of interest, thought he might leave empty-handed today—until a figure hurried over from the side, seemingly encountering a familiar friend.
Ji Yuwei asked her to wait there for the time it takes an incense stick to burn, then left with the attendant, leaving Wu Ping’an alone to watch the slaves.
She called the steward to have them taken away.
Once the steward led them off, the vast grounds were left with only Wu Ping’an.
She had originally been waiting for Ji Yuwei to return, but he had been gone for a long time. She stood up, intending to open the window for some fresh air, only to be startled by the chaos outside.
Some noble was taming a mount, but due to improper handling, a massive black ape had broken free from its restraints and was rampaging through the crowded streets, grabbing people at random.
Monster beasts differed from ordinary animals; they were born with a predatory nature and fed on humans. Taming a monster beast required immense manpower and wealth, so typically only aristocratic clans and the powerful used them as mounts. Ordinary people still relied on docile livestock like oxen, horses, sheep, and donkeys.
Thus, when an untamed monster beast escaped, its first instinct was to seize and devour people.
Wu Ping’an watched as the black ape smashed houses, dragging out pitiful victims and stuffing them into its mouth, biting through their bodies alive, blood streaming from its jaws.
Just as the black ape was about to seize a child, Wu Ping’an couldn’t bear it any longer. She grabbed a teacup from the table and hurled it fiercely at the beast.
It was futile. The black ape didn’t release the child or even glance her way. Its thick hide treated the impact like a flea bite—it didn’t bother to scratch, simply devouring the person in one gulp.
The scene was horrifying. Wu Ping’an retched.
She couldn’t bear the sight of bloodshed, yet she was powerless to stop it.
As the black ape feasted freely, a young man in a cyan-blue robe came sprinting from the other end of the street.
Forming a seal with his fingers, he tapped several points on the black ape’s body. The terrifying beast collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. Then, drawing a sword, he severed its head, completely eliminating the menace.
Ming Ziyao stood before the black ape, frowning as he examined it.
This black ape had been on the verge of being tamed—it shouldn’t have suddenly gone berserk and fled to this filthy slum to eat people. He fed the black ape daily, raising two-legged sheep for it. If it had broken out to hunt humans just because he’d starved it for a few days, its temperament was far too poor.
Considering how this commotion would soon spread and likely earn him punishment from his elder brother, dark clouds of gloom gathered in his heart. Listlessly, he ordered the attendants who had followed him to drag the black ape away.
After dealing with the chaos, Ming Ziyao prepared to leave when a faint yet forceful female voice from behind halted his steps.
“Many people just died. Are you planning to walk away just like that?”
Ming Ziyao turned and saw a plainly dressed young woman leaning against the window of a nearby pavilion.
Her hair was simply styled, but she wore a lightweight silk robe with wide sleeves and layered folds, wooden clogs on her feet, and a jade pendant at her waist of such quality that even he rarely encountered its like.
Having lived a life of luxury, Ming Ziyao assessed her worth at a glance, assuming she was a young lady from some noble family out for leisure. Hesitantly, he softened his tone. “And you are, miss?”
Wu Ping’an, her face pale as snow, slowly uttered, “Ji.”
Among the aristocracy, there existed clear hierarchies. Ji Yuwei belonged to the highest echelon of the aristocratic clans. He did not need to handle administrative affairs; relying on his extraordinary talent in spellcraft, he held an official title in name only. He never visited government offices, nor did he attend court to pay homage to the monarch. He enjoyed the salary of a high-ranking official, wore tribute silks and satins, and received the bows of thousands.
When she invoked the surname “Ji,” the young man before her indeed changed his expression. Though he did not show her solemn respect, there was not a trace of negligence in his eyes.
Ming Ziyao bowed to her and said, “I did not know the young lady was here and have disturbed you. Later, I will have someone deliver sufficient silver as compensation to the affected commoners.”
Wu Ping’an leaned against the window, her gaze sweeping over the bloodstains on the ground. She could feel herself trembling.
In their eyes, human lives were not even worth money. It was only because she had asked that they reluctantly offered compensation.
Seeing her remain silent, Ming Ziyao found her inexplicable. His eyes once again glanced at the jade pendant at her waist before he prepared to leave, bowing to her once more.
“If the young lady has no other matters, I shall take my leave.”
Wu Ping’an could not stop him. As she watched his retreating figure about to leave with the monster beast, feeling powerless, a sharp voice called out from behind to halt him.
“Young Master Ming, please stay.”
Ming Ziyao, who had been about to leave, stopped and turned toward the source of the voice.
Not far away, inside a sheep-drawn carriage, sat a fair and beautiful youth. From a distance, he resembled a jade statue—a vision of elegance, like the autumn breeze meeting the dew, or the spring breeze gently caressing the willow’s grace.
This was Ji Yuwei. The one who had called out to stop him was the servant holding the sheep’s reins.
Seeing Ji Yuwei, Ming Ziyao grew wary. “Fifth Young Master, what a coincidence. Why are you here as well?”
The youth did not look at him. Instead, he had the sheep-drawn carriage stop beneath Wu Ping’an’s window. Leaning halfway out, he extended a hand toward Wu Ping’an. “Ping’an, the stairs down are damaged. Jump from the window. I will catch you.”
Ji Yuwei must have learned of the major incident here and rushed over.
Wu Ping’an surveyed the chaos on the ground, gathered her wide hem, climbed onto the windowsill, and leaped down.
Fortunately, it was only the second floor. Ji Yuwei easily caught her descending body. However, as her wide silk sleeve fluttered in the wind and covered the small crown on his head, he caught a faint, alluring fragrance seeping from Wu Ping’an’s sleeve. It was not the floral scent he used to mask the bitterness of medicine but an innate, delicate fragrance emanating from her skin.
Lured by the scent, he tilted his chin forward but was met with resistance against his forehead.
“Ji Yuwei?” Wu Ping’an awkwardly held back his head, which was trying to burrow into her sleeve, while tightly gripping the wide cuff with her other hand.
The youth leisurely removed the silk sleeve from his head, revealing long, damp lashes as delicate as a crescent moon. A faint blush tinged his cheekbones as he smiled and asked her, “Ping’an, what scent did you use on your wrist?”
Wu Ping’an raised her wrist to smell it, detecting only the lingering scent of tea that had accidentally spilled on her sleeve when she had handled the cup earlier. “I didn’t apply anything. It might be from when I accidentally spilled tea while discarding the cup.”
“Really?” He still held her in his arms, lowering his head to sniff near her neck.
Wu Ping’an was nearly startled by him. Just as she was about to push Ji Yuwei away, he suddenly flushed red, panting slightly, and turned his gaze toward Ming Ziyao, who was still being detained not far away.
As fellow young masters of aristocratic clans, Ming Ziyao had met this Ji Yuwei, hailed as “one who could revive spring,” a few times before. Each encounter was different, and he knew well that Ji Yuwei was no benevolent figure. While remaining vigilant, he instructed his servant to hurry and find his elder brother.
Ji Yuwei watched as the attendants by his side departed without anyone stopping them, his gentle eyes holding a smile. His captivating gaze, like icy crystals, was both warm and cool as he first spoke with courtesy: “Long time no see, Ming Ziyao. I just heard that the monster beasts were in a frenzy and seem to have devoured the attendants I had carefully selected.”
The slave market was full of ‘two-legged sheep’ for sale—those were legal food specifically used to feed monster beasts and supply people with peculiar dietary preferences. If the monster beasts ate them, paying a bit more money was already considered profitable here. But judging by Ji Yuwei’s demeanor, it seemed he wasn’t just after compensation.
Running into Ji Yuwei was his misfortune. Anyone who knew Ji Yuwei was aware that he was vengeful, beautiful yet venomous. If one didn’t produce a result that satisfied him, they might find themselves dead for no reason another day.
Ming Ziyao decisively drew his dagger, grabbed the servants beside him, and slit several throats in succession. He asked, “Fifth Young Master, these were my most beloved attendants. I offer them to you as an apology. May I leave now?”
Ji Yuwei frowned slightly as he glanced at the bodies on the ground—not because of the dead, but because their deaths were too ugly, making him utterly disgusted.
The unsatisfied Fifth Young Master of the Ji Clan was secretly contemplating how to kill Ming Ziyao when a very weak voice suddenly came from his embrace.
“Is human life so cheap and insignificant in your eyes, like ants?”
Wu Ping’an’s mind went blank for a long time after those people had their throats decisively slit. When she regained her senses, she felt a chill all over and couldn’t help but lift her reddened eyes to look.
She didn’t rebuke Ming Ziyao; she only wanted to ask him if human life was truly so cheap in their eyes.
Ming Ziyao didn’t understand her question and answered honestly: “Of course, it’s valuable. A person is born with only one life. I recite Buddhist scriptures every morning and am quite skilled in performing rites for the dead. When I return home, I will perform rites for them. You need not worry, young lady.”
Wu Ping’an had nothing to say. Watching the bloodstains being cleaned from the street, the scorching sunlight falling on the gradually clean ground—everything seemed to have been reborn. Yet she felt this was truly a terrible era.
As she fell silent again, Ming Ziyao couldn’t help but study her.
The woman carried a sorrow, compassion, and helpless anger he had never seen before. He couldn’t comprehend it, nor did he understand.
Human life was naturally valuable, but lowly people, only slightly above two-legged sheep, were like dirt on the ground or water in a river—when they dried up, they dried up. If it weren’t for seeing that she was a young lady of the Ji Clan, he wouldn’t have been so polite, especially given the mutual animosity between his elder brother and Ji Yuwei.
Ming Ziyao turned to Ji Yuwei, who also remained silent. “Fifth Young Master, is this acceptable now?”
As fellow nobles from prominent families, he thought Ji Yuwei, no matter how disdainful he was of others, should still give face. Moreover, this wasn’t a major issue. Yet he saw the youth in the sheep-drawn carriage, with his striking features and indifferent eyes, resembling a jade-faced Guanyin, utter two light and warm words:
“Tattoo the face.”
Tattooing the face, also known as ink punishment, was a corporal punishment involving tattooing characters on the face or limbs and filling them with ink. It was listed as one of the Five Punishments during the Western Zhou Dynasty and had been used ever since. Upon hearing this, Ming Ziyao turned to leave but was stopped.
Ming Ziyao was shocked and struggled. “Ji Wu Zhi! How dare you have someone punish me by tattooing my face!”
Ji Yuwei didn’t look at him. Tattooing the face was nothing—far lighter than Ming Ziyao’s life.
He set down Wu Ping’an, who was trembling all over. Originally intending to comfort her with a few words, he saw the light, like flowing gold, fall on her lightly trembling eyelashes—fluttering and shining. His heart stirred, and he reached out to catch the light on her lashes.
Wu Ping’an had her eyelashes tugged, and in the blink of an eye, she saw the youth leaning in for a closer look. Unable to resist, she blinked and asked, “Will it be alright?”
Ji Yuwei glanced past her indifferently, his gaze falling once more on the scene not far away.
Ming Ziyao, as a member of the Ming Clan, was pinned to the ground in full view of the public, unable to fend off the many attackers with his two hands. Seeing those men draw their knives, ready to stab and truly tattoo his face, he could no longer hold back from cursing Ji Yuwei.
He cursed him by his full name, yet dared not wish him an early death.