Great Sheng Dynasty, Jingde 26th Year, Twelfth Lunar Month
The morning light of the Hour of Chen pierced the thin mist in the mountain valley and fell upon the wooden rooftops dusted with a light layer of snow, reflecting shards of silvery light. Inside the council hall, pine branches burned in a bronze brazier, the warm smoke carrying a faint pine fragrance that dispelled the chill of the twelfth month.
On the bluestone floor of the hall, Wen Yinyue sat cross-legged. She wore a fitted black brocade outfit that outlined her upright figure, with dark-gold “Xiao” patterns embroidered along the collar and cuffs. The mutton-fat jade pendant at her waist—taken years ago from the man in the black brocade robe—swayed gently with her breathing, glowing with a soft, warm sheen.
Her eyes were lightly closed, her hands forming the third-level seals of the Nine Heavens Mystic Spirit Art. Inner energy surged and flowed through her meridians—no longer weak as it had been when she first transmigrated five years ago. Now it was like a rushing stream, circulating again and again along the Ren and Du meridians. Each cycle carried a warm force that washed against the faintly black layer of Thousand Mechanisms Pull poison surrounding her dantian.
“Buzz—”
When the inner energy reached her dantian, a faint tremor suddenly sounded.
Wen Yinyue snapped her eyes open. A soft glow appeared at her fingertips, and she could clearly feel it—the toxin that had wrapped around her dantian like a thin shell was cracking and dissolving under the impact of her inner energy. It finally broke apart completely, turning into wisps of black turbid vapor that were expelled through her pores.
She raised her hand to wipe the sweat from her brow and felt a chill at her fingertips—black beads of sweat that had condensed as the toxin was expelled, carrying the distinctive fishy stench of Thousand Mechanisms Pull.
“At last… it’s completely cleared.”
She murmured softly, her voice filled with the release of five years of repression. From the desperate struggle for survival after transmigrating, to recuperating in the valley, to founding Xiaoyao Pavilion, and now breaking through the third level of the Nine Heavens Mystic Spirit Art and completely freeing herself from the toxin—every step over these five years had been arduous, yet resolute.
“Mother!”
A crisp shout came from outside. Five-year-old Wen Junye and Wen Lingxi lifted the curtain and ran in.
Junye wore a sapphire-blue cotton-and-linen jacket. At his waist hung a palm-sized wooden mechanism box—containing a miniature trap he had just made. His hair was tied into a small topknot with a dark blue cloth band, and his little face held a calmness beyond his years.
Lingxi wore a pink padded dress, with a small herb pouch embroidered with medicinal plants hanging at her waist—inside were dried mint and licorice she had prepared herself. Pink pom-poms were tied to her twin braids, swaying gently as she ran.
“Mother, did you finish your breakthrough?” Lingxi threw herself beside Wen Yinyue, her small hand touching her wrist. “Aunt Zhang Ping said that once Mother breaks through, your stomach won’t hurt anymore!”
Junye also came closer and handed over a warm handkerchief. “Mother, wipe your sweat. Uncle Lin Feng said that after a breakthrough, you need to keep warm and not catch a chill.”
Wen Yinyue took the handkerchief and smiled as she stroked the children’s heads. “Junye and Lingxi are so good. Yes—Mother won’t be in pain anymore. From now on, I can protect you better, and protect Xiaoyao Pavilion.”
At that moment, Lin Feng and Aunt Zhang Ping entered as well.
Lin Feng wore a dark gray fitted outfit, his shoulders and back straight as a pine. In his hands was a rolled sheepskin map. Aunt Zhang Ping wore a blue cotton jacket with a dark blue apron over it, carrying a bowl of steaming ginger tea—specially prepared, fearing Wen Yinyue might catch cold after her breakthrough.
“Pavilion Master, you succeeded?” Lin Feng’s voice was filled with joy. No one knew better than he how much suffering the Thousand Mechanisms Pull poison had caused her. Its complete removal was not only her liberation, but also a blessing for Xiaoyao Pavilion.
Aunt Zhang Ping handed the ginger tea to Wen Yinyue. “Pavilion Master, drink some ginger tea to warm yourself. You’ve suffered these past five years—now you can finally breathe a little easier.”
Wen Yinyue accepted the bowl, warmth flowing from her throat into her chest.
She looked at the core members of Xiaoyao Pavilion who were gradually gathering in the hall—Lin Wu, Lin Yi, and Lin Lei of the Shadow Vein; Wen Qing and Lin Xue of the Salvation Vein; and Lin Xian, who managed the valley’s logistics. Twelve people in total—the earliest members of Xiaoyao Pavilion, all of whom had now grown into capable pillars in their own right.
“Sit,” Wen Yinyue said, motioning for them to take their seats. Her gaze swept across every face. “I called everyone here today to announce two things. First, I have broken through the third level of the Nine Heavens Mystic Spirit Art, and the Thousand Mechanisms Pull poison has been completely eradicated. Second…”
She paused, then continued, “Xiaoyao Pavilion is going to the capital.”
“The capital?” Lin Wu abruptly raised his head, his eyes blazing with excitement. His escort agency’s wrongful case had happened in the capital—he had waited every day these past five years for a chance to return and take revenge.
Wen Yinyue nodded and gestured toward the sheepskin map in Lin Feng’s hands. “Lin Feng, explain the current situation to everyone.”
Lin Feng unrolled the map. Dense red circles marked it, covering Jiangnan, the Central Plains, and even extending to the areas around the capital.
“Reporting to the Pavilion Master and to all brothers: Xiaoyao Pavilion now has 327 members. The Shadow Vein has established intelligence points in six cities of Jiangnan and three counties around the capital, allowing us to monitor the movements of corrupt officials in real time. The Salvation Vein has opened five pharmacies in Suzhou, Hangzhou, and Yangzhou—both to treat the people and to gather information from various regions. As for the three capital shops sent by the Zhang residence last month, we’ve arranged trustworthy managers. They are now our foothold in the capital.”
“And more than that,” Aunt Zhang Ping added, “the valley’s medicinal fields have expanded threefold over the past five years. Rare herbs like Ice-Skin Grass and Blood Ginseng are sufficient to supply the Salvation Vein’s pharmacies. The mechanisms designed by Young Master Junye have also been installed at every intelligence point and pharmacy to prevent intruders.”
Wen Yinyue gazed at the red marks on the map, her heart filled with emotion.
Five years ago, Xiaoyao Pavilion consisted of only herself, Lin Feng, and the two children. Now, it had grown into a force that covered Jiangnan and reached toward the capital. This was the result of everyone’s efforts—and the confidence that allowed her to return to the capital.
“Five years ago, I brought Junye and Lingxi and struggled to survive at the bottom of a cliff. Five years later, Xiaoyao Pavilion has its own territory and its own power.”
Her voice rose gradually, firm and unyielding. “Mrs. Liu and Wen Wanru harmed the original owner and seized control of the Anyuan Marquis’s household. Zhang Biao and the Salt and Iron Commissioner killed Lin Feng’s family and framed loyal men. These grudges cannot be forgotten. These debts—it’s time to collect them!”
“Collect the debt! Take revenge!” Lin Wu was the first to stand, his fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. “Pavilion Master, I’ll go to the capital with you! Back then, Zhang Biao destroyed my escort brothers—I’ll personally send him to prison!”
“We’ll go too!”
Lin Yi, Lin Lei, and the others stood as well, their eyes blazing with fighting spirit. Most of them had suffered at the hands of corrupt officials. Returning to the capital was not only for the Pavilion Master’s revenge, but also to seek justice for themselves and their families.
Wen Yinyue raised a hand to calm them. “I know everyone wants to go, but the valley is our foundation. It cannot be left unguarded. Aunt Zhang Ping, I want you to stay and take charge of the valley’s medicinal fields, logistics, and the supply of herbs to the pharmacies. Are you willing?”
Aunt Zhang Ping froze for a moment, then nodded firmly. “Pavilion Master, rest assured. I will guard the valley well and ensure the supply of medicinal herbs, so you and the brothers won’t be distracted in the capital.”
Though she also wished to go to the capital, she understood the importance of the valley. It was everyone’s home and had to be protected.
“Junye, Lingxi, are you willing to go to the capital with Mother?” Wen Yinyue asked, turning to the children.
Junye nodded and took the mechanism box from his waist. “Mother, I’ll bring my mechanisms. I can help everyone set traps and protect you.”
Lingxi patted the medicine pouch at her waist. “Mother, I’ll bring herbs and treat everyone! I can also recognize poisonous plants—I won’t let bad people use poison against us!”
Seeing their serious expressions warmed Wen Yinyue’s heart.
She stood and walked to the center of the hall, her gaze fixed toward the direction of the capital. Though separated by mountains and rivers, she could almost see the vermilion gates of the Anyuan Marquis’s residence, and the hypocritical smiles of Mrs. Liu and Wen Wanru.
“On the sixteenth day of the twelfth month, we depart,” Wen Yinyue declared, her voice echoing through the hall. “Lin Feng, you will take thirty men from the Shadow Vein to the capital ahead of us to make preparations and investigate the movements of Mrs. Liu, Wen Wanru, and Zhang Biao. Wen Qing, you will take ten from the Salvation Vein to staff the capital’s pharmacies and gather information from the marquis’s household and official circles. The rest will depart with me and the children on the sixteenth, on time.”
“Yes!” Everyone responded in unison, their voices striking the wooden pillars of the hall and drifting deep into the valley, startling snow from the branches outside.
The morning sun rose higher, streaming through the windows of the hall and illuminating each determined face.
Aunt Zhang Ping began taking inventory of the valley’s herbs and supplies to prepare for the journey. Lin Feng, map in hand, discussed the layout of capital intelligence points with Lin Wu and Lin Yi. Junye crouched in a corner, fiddling with his mechanism box and whispering to Lingxi—who was showing him the herbs in her pouch, teaching him which could stop bleeding and which could detoxify.
Wen Yinyue stood by the window, her hand resting on the mutton-fat jade pendant at her waist. The capital would surely be filled with thorns—Mrs. Liu had managed the marquis’s household for years, Wen Wanru had the Crown Prince’s backing, and the capital’s officialdom was tangled and deep-rooted.
But she was no longer the helpless Wen Yinyue of five years ago.
“Original owner, wait for me,” she vowed silently. “I will return to the Anyuan Marquis’s residence and reclaim justice for you. I will make Mrs. Liu and Wen Wanru pay the price they deserve.”
The twelfth-month wind blew in through the window, carrying the chill of snow, yet it could not shake the determination in Wen Yinyue’s eyes.
In the bronze brazier of the council hall, pine branches continued to burn, warm smoke curling upward, illuminating the Xiaoyao Pavilion plaque on the wall—and the silhouettes of everyone present.