The morning sun of the first day at chen hour streamed through the lattice windows of the wooden cabin, falling onto the medicine shelves along the wall.
Dozens of clay jars were neatly arranged on the shelves. Their labels, written in charcoal, read “Ice-Skin Herb,” “Blood Ginseng,” and “Detox Grass.” A faint layer of moisture still clung to the jars—these were freshly gathered herbs that Wen Yinyue had picked at dawn by the hot spring and had just finished drying.
Lin Feng was awakened by the clean, herbal fragrance.
He opened his eyes and found himself lying on a soft straw mat in the corner of the cabin. A washed-thin coarse cloth blanket covered him. The blue short tunic that had once been soaked in blood was gone, replaced by a clean, light-gray cotton outfit. The fabric was plain, but well washed and soft, comfortable against his skin.
“You’re awake?”
Wen Yinyue’s voice came from the table.
She had already removed the “middle-aged woman” disguise she wore when leaving the valley and had changed back into her usual off-white cotton-linen dress. Simple plant patterns were embroidered along the hem. Her long hair was loosely gathered into a bun and secured with a wooden hairpin.
She was sitting at the table, holding a pale blue Ice-Skin Herb and carefully grinding it in a stone mortar. Beside her, a clay bowl already held half a bowl of powdered herbs mixed with dark red Blood Ginseng powder.
Hearing her voice, Lin Feng struggled to sit up, but Wen Yinyue raised a hand and pressed him back down.
“Don’t move. The arrow in your shoulder was just removed. The wound hasn’t healed yet.”
Only then did Lin Feng feel the dull ache in his left shoulder. He lowered his head and saw that the wound had been carefully bandaged with white cloth, faintly scented with medicine.
“Did… did you pull out the arrow for me, Auntie?”
His voice was hoarse. Memories before he lost consciousness came flooding back—after entering the cave yesterday, he had fainted from blood loss. He only remembered Wen Yinyue holding Lingxi, with Junye strapped to her back, calmly watching him with those steady eyes.
“Yes. I pulled it out last night.”
Wen Yinyue poured the ground medicine into a small clay bottle and walked over to sit beside him.
“This is a mixture of Ice-Skin Herb and Blood Ginseng. Ice-Skin Herb reduces inflammation and detoxifies, while Blood Ginseng replenishes qi and blood. It’s good for your recovery.”
She picked up a bottle of strong liquor and dipped a clean cloth into it.
“I need to change your dressing now. It might hurt a bit. Bear with it.”
Lin Feng nodded and watched her movements.
Her fingers were slender yet steady. When she untied the old bandages, her movements were so gentle it was as if she feared shattering glass. The wound beneath was no longer bleeding, and the edges were already tinged with pale pink new flesh.
He was secretly astonished. Such ordinary herbs, yet such remarkable effects? When he had been injured at the escort agency before, even the best wound medicine hadn’t worked this fast.
“Your father was Lin Xiaotian, the chief escort of Zhenyuan Escort Agency?” Wen Yinyue asked softly as she applied the medicine.
The night before, while tending to him, she had noticed the small embroidered character ‘Zhen’ on his clothing—the emblem of Zhenyuan Escort Agency.
Lin Feng’s body stiffened, and his eyes dimmed at once.
“Yes… Auntie, you knew my father too?”
“I’ve heard of him,” Wen Yinyue replied without pausing her hands. “People in the martial world say Chief Escort Lin was a man of integrity—he never smuggled goods or took dirty money.”
She looked up at Lin Feng.
“But yesterday you said it was someone inside the escort agency who colluded with corrupt officials and destroyed your family?”
At the mention of this, Lin Feng’s eyes instantly reddened.
He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white, his voice trembling as he suppressed a sob.
“It wasn’t my father! It was the second escort, Zhang Biao! He secretly colluded with the Salt and Iron Commissioner in the capital to smuggle salt and iron. When my father discovered it and tried to expose him, Zhang Biao joined forces with that official, framed my father for embezzling imperial escort silver, and then set fire to the escort agency…”
He took a deep breath, as if forcing his tears back.
“When I came back from my grandmother’s house that day, all I saw was a sea of flames. My father and more than thirty brothers from the agency—all of them burned to death inside… Zhang Biao even said he would kill me too, to eliminate any future trouble.”
Wen Yinyue was silent for a moment. She applied the last of the medicine and carefully rebandaged the wound with fresh cloth.
She understood this hatred.
Just as she hated Mrs. Liu and Wen Wanru, she knew all too well the pain of losing everything and being betrayed by those you trusted most.
“Do you want revenge?” she suddenly asked, her voice calm yet carrying an undeniable force.
Lin Feng jerked his head up. A fierce light burst into his eyes, like dying embers suddenly reignited.
“Yes! I dream of it every night! But… I’m alone. Zhang Biao and the Salt and Iron Commissioner have immense power. I can’t even get close to them…”
His voice fell, heavy with helplessness.
Wen Yinyue said nothing. She stood up and walked to the window, pointing to the medicinal fields outside.
In the morning light, Junye was squatting by the ridges, holding a sprig of Detox Grass and carefully comparing it to the herb drawings Wen Yinyue had made. Lingxi, clutching a cloth butterfly, ran over to him, chattering happily. Their laughter drifted in on the breeze, warm and soothing.
“This place is safe. There’s food and medicine. You can stay here to recover.”
She turned back to Lin Feng, a hint of expectation in her eyes.
“But I won’t let you hide here forever. What Zhang Biao and the Salt and Iron Commissioner owe you—you must take back yourself. I also have my own enemies, and my own path.”
Lin Feng froze, not fully understanding.
Wen Yinyue walked up to him and spoke slowly.
“I want to build a force—one that can protect itself, and help those worth helping to take revenge. You know martial arts, understand the ways of the jianghu, and you value loyalty. I need someone like you. Follow me, and I won’t just keep you alive—I’ll help you find evidence of Zhang Biao’s and the Salt and Iron Commissioner’s crimes, and let you personally avenge your father and brothers.”
Her words struck Lin Feng like thunder.
He looked into her eyes—bright, resolute, without the slightest hint of deception. There was only sincerity and trust.
He thought of everything that had happened since yesterday: she had saved him from death, treated his wounds with precious herbs, given him clean clothes to wear. Even her children showed him no hostility.
When he thought the entire world had abandoned him, this mysterious woman had given him a reason to live—and a chance for revenge.
Lin Feng suddenly scrambled up from the straw mat, ignoring the pain of his wounds. With a loud thud, he knelt before Wen Yinyue, his forehead striking the ground.
“Auntie! No—Master! Please accept me! From this day on, my life belongs to you! If you tell me to go east, I will never go west! If you order me to kill Zhang Biao and the Salt and Iron Commissioner, I will give my life without hesitation and never disappoint you!”
He kowtowed hard, his forehead quickly turning red, yet he made no move to rise.
Wen Yinyue hurriedly helped him up. Seeing the determination in his eyes, her heart stirred slightly.
This was her first true follower—and the first core member of Xiaoyao Pavilion.
She patted Lin Feng’s shoulder, her tone gentler.
“Get up. Don’t call me Master. Call me ‘Pavilion Master.’”
“Pavilion Master?” Lin Feng was momentarily stunned.
“Yes.” Wen Yinyue nodded, her gaze drifting toward the valley outside the window, as if planning something far ahead. “The force I’m building will be called Xiaoyao Pavilion. In the future, more people like you will come here. We’ll survive together, take revenge together, and do the things we truly want to do.”
Lin Feng’s eyes lit up at once. He nodded firmly.
“Yes! Pavilion Master!”
Over the next two days, Lin Feng rested while familiarizing himself with the valley.
Wen Yinyue changed his dressings daily. On the morning of the third day, when he removed the bandages, he was delighted to find that the wound on his shoulder had already scabbed over, and the injury on his abdomen no longer hurt. He could even get out of bed and walk slowly.
“This Ice-Skin Herb is incredible!” he exclaimed, holding the dried Ice-Skin Herb slices Wen Yinyue had given him, examining them again and again with fascination.
“It’s not just Ice-Skin Herb,” Wen Yinyue said with a smile, handing him a herb manual. “This is a medicinal guide I drew of the valley’s herbs. It explains their uses. Read it when you have time—you may need it someday.”
Lin Feng accepted the book as if it were a priceless treasure and hugged it to his chest, nodding solemnly.
“Yes, Pavilion Master!”
Nearby, Lingxi ran over with a freshly woven grass grasshopper and placed it in his hand.
“Brother… play…”
Lin Feng froze for a moment, looking at the grasshopper and then at Lingxi’s innocent smile. A warmth he had never felt before welled up inside him.
He carefully took it and said softly, “Thank you, Lingxi.”
Junye also walked over, holding a polished wooden piece with simple mechanism diagrams carved into it.
“Brother Lin Feng, this can be used to make traps. If bad people come, it can hold them.”
Looking at the two children, then at Wen Yinyue, Lin Feng suddenly felt that this place was no longer just a temporary refuge.
It was his home—the place he would dedicate his life to protecting.
At sunset, Lin Feng followed Wen Yinyue to the hot spring. Gazing at the clear water and the medicinal fields around it, he couldn’t help asking, “Pavilion Master, will we really have many people in the future?”
Wen Yinyue nodded, her gaze firm.
“Yes. As long as we are strong enough and united enough, more and more people will come to rely on us. When that time comes, not just Zhang Biao and the Salt and Iron Commissioner—even the people in the capital—we won’t need to fear them.”
Lin Feng looked at Wen Yinyue’s back. Bathed in the glow of the setting sun, that not-so-tall figure appeared incomparably dependable.
He clenched his fists and swore silently: I will become stronger. I will become the Pavilion Master’s most capable aide. I will protect this home—protect the Pavilion Master and these two children.
Steam from the hot spring drifted through the valley, shimmering in the sunset’s afterglow, coating everything in a light of hope.