To no avail.
Watching Yuan Rong fight one against ten, shifting from initial ease to gradual exhaustion.
Ming Shu knew this was because Yuan Rong was protecting her.
So when those people slowly forced the two of them into a corner, Ming Shu crouched low and slipped away from behind Yuan Rong.
Yuan Rong sensed the movement behind her and fought even more fiercely to prevent anyone from noticing Ming Shu’s departure.
But it didn’t last long before she was discovered.
Still, it bought Ming Shu considerable time to escape.
Ming Shu lifted her skirt and slipped through the scattered crowd, unsure where was safe.
At a corner, she realized someone had already caught up behind her.
Ming Shu inwardly cursed her luck.
Looking ahead, the terrain was open with no cover, while the gate of a small courtyard nearby was half-open.
Ming Shu didn’t hesitate. Gritting her teeth, she had no choice but to hide inside.
She moved behind the house to observe the situation in secret.
Hearing voices outside say, “Could she have gone in?”
Ming Shu’s heart began to pound violently. She bit her lip hard, not daring to make a sound, but her heavy breathing betrayed her panic.
“This is Daoist Priest Wanyangzi’s courtyard. Do you dare search it?”
“Then should we just go back like this? The young master will—”
“You stay here. I’ll go report to the young master.”
Then, the noise outside ceased.
Ming Shu knew she had narrowly escaped disaster.
But she also couldn’t leave now.
Her limbs were numb, her legs weak—she no longer had the strength to flee.
Ming Shu leaned against the wall and slowly slid down.
Her hands pressed against the ground, no longer caring how disheveled she looked.
Suddenly, the sound of a window opening came from above. Ming Shu was terrified.
She jerked her head up and met a pair of dark eyes.
It was Yan Wei.
Yan Wei also saw her—her lips pale, panic still lingering in her eyes, strands of hair damp and clinging to her cheeks.
He blurted out, “Cousin?”
Seeing him, a sob caught in Ming Shu’s throat. “Cousin.”
Yan Wei’s expression darkened. Ming Shu being here alone clearly meant she was in trouble.
And Yuan Rong was not by her side.
“Cousin, come inside first.”
Ming Shu’s tense nerves relaxed, and only then did she truly feel utterly weak. Twice she tried to stand but failed.
On the third attempt, she shakily got to her feet and prepared to climb through the window.
Yan Wei was momentarily stunned.
Then he reached out to support her.
Ming Shu’s legs trembled, her feet slipped, and she closed her eyes in pain, bracing for the impact.
Yan Wei pulled her close, effortlessly lifting her inside.
Ming Shu landed steadily.
But, unbeknownst to her, a crack had formed in the nanmu wood of the window frame, and the hem of her skirt caught in it.
As she landed, the sound of tearing fabric echoed.
Ming Shu stumbled and fell into Yan Wei’s arms.
Help.
Perhaps she should go burn incense and pray these days.
Yan Wei held her with one hand while tugging at her skirt with the other. Unexpectedly, the hem split into two pieces.
Ming Shu still had to thank him, her lowered eyes catching a glimpse of his fluttering eyelashes.
“Thank you, Cousin.”
“What happened?”
Yuan Rong!
Ming Shu grabbed the corner of Yan Wei’s sleeve, pleading, “Cousin, could you send someone to find Yuan Rong?”
Yuan Rong had risked herself to save her, and now her situation was unknown.
Yan Wei called out, “Duan Cang.”
“Go find Yuan Rong.”
Ming Shu added, “She might be east of the Marriage Tree.”
A voice responded from outside, “Yes.”
Yan Wei poured a cup of tea for her, his calm eyes holding a cold sharpness.
“How did you end up here, cousin?”
Ming Shu’s hands trembled slightly as she held the teacup, but her words came out clear and orderly.
“Do you still remember what that person looked like?”
Ming Shu nodded.
Yan Wei then brought over brush, ink, and paper: “Draw it.”
Ming Shu was not skilled at drawing, but she could still manage to sketch the person’s appearance on paper.
Picking up the brush, she carefully recalled the details, even placing the mole under the eye exactly where it belonged.
Yan Wei frowned, now knowing which household the person was from.
He waited for the paper to dry, then folded it and put it away.
“Don’t worry, cousin. This person will never appear before you again.”
Since he had promised to protect her, Yan Wei would not go back on his word.
Ming Shu said, “Thank you, cousin.”
Meanwhile, Duan Cang and Yuan Rong had dealt with the person together before heading back.
Yuan Rong asked, “How is the young lady?”
Duan Cang hadn’t seen Ming Shu, but he could guess: “She was frightened.”
Yuan Rong’s palm still bore a wound from gripping the opponent’s sword blade in the heat of the moment, blood now trickling steadily from it.
Yuan Rong stopped, tore a strip of cloth from the inner lining of her skirt, sprinkled some medicinal powder from her pouch, and roughly bandaged it.
Duan Cang glanced over—the flesh was torn open.
Knowing that Yuan Rong served under the general, she likely didn’t take this injury seriously.
But Duan Cang still felt a pang of sympathy: “When we return to the estate, have a doctor tend to this wound. Make sure it hasn’t damaged the tendons or bones.”
Yuan Rong was surprised: “I know what I’m doing. I deliberately shifted my grip to avoid the worst—it’s just a flesh wound.”
Duan Cang fell silent.
The two arrived together at Wanyangzi’s residence.
As luck would have it, the young acolyte who had gone to fetch Wanyangzi earlier was just returning.
Wanyangzi carried a bamboo basket on his back, its contents unknown. His figure was somewhat thin, and the loose robe he wore gave him an air of unworldly grace.
“Master Daoist.”
Wanyangzi entered, first setting down the basket, then vigorously stomping his feet to shake off the mud from his shoes.
Only then did he step inside.
“It’s been so long since you returned to Yunjing, and only now do you come to visit me—and without even giving notice.”
From such familiar words, Ming Shu knew Yan Wei was acquainted with this person.
Wanyangzi seemed to notice there was a woman present only then.
He glanced at her and said, “Your wife is quite beautiful—no wonder there are so many admirers outside.”
Ming Shu’s face flushed instantly.
Yan Wei frowned, shooting him a sidelong glance: “Watch your words.”
Wanyangzi paused, looked at the two again, and moved his fingers slightly.
He asked, “Young lady, have you just reached the age of fifteen? Which month were you born? And at what hour?”
Ming Shu opened her mouth, instinctively replying, “I was born at the end of the hour of noon on the sixth day of the third month.”
Wanyangzi narrowed his eyes, pondering Yan Wei’s birth date and time.
He now had an idea.
“The young lady’s eight characters are excellent, and as for her marriage prospects—they are also excellent. She is a fortunate person.”
Ming Shu was stunned for a moment, remembering that Tang Li had said fortune-telling required payment.
So she took a silver ingot from her sleeve and offered it.
But Yan Wei stopped her: “He’s not short on silver. Take it back.”
Wanyangzi glared, his raised hand dropping as he casually stroked his beard.
However: “Payment for the divination is required.”
He hadn’t just calculated a little—without payment, there would be misfortune.
Yan Wei asked unhurriedly, “Oh? What else did you divine?”
“The young lady’s husband should be a military commander, a formidable figure, and deeply devoted to her in the future.”
This truly brought a smile to Ming Shu’s eyes.
For this alone, the payment was absolutely settled.
“Thank you for your auspicious words, Daoist Priest.”
Wan Yangzi nodded solemnly, then accepted the silver.
Considering the generous amount of silver given, he added one more sentence: “Your husband is currently being coveted by someone.”