Su Liuyue looked at her protective uncle with a mix of amusement and helplessness. “I know Uncle cares for me, but… even if you don’t mind risking your career, you must think of Eldest Cousin and Third Cousin.”
At the mention of his two sons, Xue Chengyi faltered, then gritted his teeth. “But we can’t just stand by and watch the Su family scoundrels humiliate you like this…”
Seeing her two cousins about to speak, Su Liuyue quickly interjected: “Don’t worry. I have a way to deal with that General Wu. Handling one general isn’t difficult. What I fear is that afterward, there may be a General Liu or General Qi. That’s why I’m anxious to build up *Manyifang*—so I’ll have more ability to protect myself.”
The Xue family exchanged glances in surprise. Su Liuyue paused, then added: “I hope you’ll trust me. Before, I was foolish. But now, among all my relatives, the only ones I can truly rely on are you.” Her words clearly struck a chord with the Xue family.
Xue Wenbai immediately said: “Cousin, rest assured. Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you! You just helped me a great deal today. Even if it means braving fire and blades, I’ll stand by you!”
Apart from Xue Lingwan, the rest of the family voiced their support as well.
Though Xue Lingwan said nothing, she no longer mocked or sneered as before.
Su Liuyue’s heart warmed. For the first time since arriving in this world, she felt a genuine sense of security.
After supper, Xue Wenbai volunteered to escort Su Liuyue back to the Su residence.
Madam Yun and Xue Chengyi, still worried, accompanied them to the gate. As they walked, Madam Yun said: “Liuyue, you must take care of yourself at the Su household. If you suffer any grievance, tell your uncle and me at once. The capital hasn’t been peaceful lately. Don’t go out at night if you can help it. In the past few months, several young women have been kidnapped and murdered—it’s terrifying. Since Great Qing has only just been founded, many government offices are still incomplete, giving criminals opportunities to exploit…”
“Hmph! If the Crown Prince indulges scum like that general, what ability can his subordinates possibly have?”
Xue Chengyi snorted angrily. “Right now, the Prefect of the Capital is none other than His Highness the Crown Prince. Allowing such villains to run rampant is the responsibility of the Prefect’s office!”
“Master!”
Madam Yun quickly glared at him. “What nonsense are you spouting! If someone hears you, do you still want to keep your head on your shoulders?!”
Xue Chengyi immediately looked aggrieved. “I’m not a fool. I only say such things at home. Besides, part of the grievances my niece has suffered are because of that Crown Prince himself—how could I not be angry?”
Xue Wenbai, however, was more optimistic. “Maybe the Crown Prince doesn’t even know about this matter. After all, he has so many generals under him, and with so much to handle in the early days of founding the nation, it’s normal if he can’t oversee everything. The Crown Prince doesn’t seem like someone who would condone his men committing crimes. Everyone says His Highness is strict in military discipline. On campaign, he never allows his soldiers to plunder the people’s property or harm women and children. He’s a general admired by all…”
Before he could finish, his father smacked him hard on the head. “You brat! Have you even met him? And yet you worship him like that! All I know is that right now, it’s your cousin who’s suffering. Even if he were the Jade Emperor himself, I wouldn’t think well of him!”
Xue Wenbai clutched his head pitifully. “Father, you talk as if you’ve met the Crown Prince yourself. Hmph! Don’t think I don’t know—you’re just a sixth‑rank censor. You only have the right to attend court twice a month, and even then, you’re stuck at the back of the line. You probably can’t even see the Crown Prince’s face clearly…”
Xue Chengyi was furious. He pulled off his shoe and hurled it at Xue Wenbai. “You brat! Now you’re looking down on your own father, are you?!”
The small courtyard was suddenly filled with noisy commotion.
Watching from the side, Su Liuyue couldn’t help but smile. This lively, chaotic warmth—just for a moment—made her feel as though she had returned to her old home.
By the time Su Liuyue returned to the Su residence, it was already late. The gatekeeper gave her only a perfunctory bow before letting her in.
Even though she had come back so late, neither Su Weili nor Madam Guo bothered to check on her, nor did they send anyone to ask a single question.
Their indifference was, to Su Liuyue, a relief. She wished they would ignore her forever. Back in her room, she lazily reclined on the couch.
Ersi couldn’t help but ask: “Miss, have you really decided how to deal with that General Wu?”
The words of the kitchen maids about that General Wu still echoed in their minds. Even though Ersi had never seen him in person, she already carried a shadow of fear in her heart.
Su Liuyue gave a soft laugh. “Don’t worry. He doesn’t pose any real threat to me yet. What I’m concerned about are the things that may come later…”
Although her current focus was on making money, she understood clearly that in ancient times—especially in the imperial capital, where nobles were everywhere—money alone was not enough.
Money was only the foundation she could rely on. To truly break free from the Su family, she needed power. And gaining power was far more difficult than earning money.
At last, Su Liuyue sighed lightly. “Forget it. I’ll just take things one step at a time.”
In the days that followed, Su Weili and Madam Guo acted as if they had truly forgotten she existed. Su Liuyue, for her part, had no time to bother with them. Each morning at dawn, she went to the Xue household, returning only at night. Sometimes, if it was too late, she simply stayed overnight there.
She asked the Xue family to build a stone oven beside the kitchen for her to bake pastries. In her previous life, she had always used modern ovens, and though she had read about stone‑oven baking, she had never practiced it herself. Controlling the heat was extremely difficult.
Moreover, many baking tools and ingredients available in modern times simply didn’t exist here. Su Liuyue had to experiment slowly, finding substitutes for tools and materials, each attempt consuming much time.
This was why she had told Master Xiao Song and the others to give her half a month to prepare.
Once the stone oven was built, she spent every day in the Xue kitchen, researching pastries with the same determination she once had when working overnight on criminal cases. Though the Xue family didn’t fully understand what she was doing, after spending time with her, they grew increasingly trusting and often felt gratified by her change. So they let her be.
In this way, the half‑month deadline quickly approached.
One evening, while Su Liuyue was still busy in the kitchen, Madam Yun came to ask if she would stay for supper. Suddenly, a young servant rushed in.
Recognizing him, Madam Yun exclaimed in surprise: “Pingchuan, why are you running back in such a hurry? Didn’t I send you to deliver food to the eldest young master?”
Xue Wenbai was a *wuhou*—a position similar to a modern patrol officer. Their main duty was to patrol the streets. Each district in the capital had a *wuhou* station, varying in size: the largest had nearly a hundred men, while the smallest had only five.
Xue Wenbai’s station was located on Changxing Street in the outer city, a district inhabited mostly by commoners. It was moderately busy, so his station was of average size, with thirty men. Xue Wenbai served as the *wuhou* chief there, a small but respectable leadership role.
Because the *wuhou* patrols had to cover all twelve hours of the day, Xue Wenbai often worked night shifts. Occasionally, Madam Yun would have someone deliver his supper. Tonight, she had sent Pingchuan to bring Xue Wenbai his meal.
Pingchuan’s face was pale as he stammered: “Mistress… it’s bad… the young master… he’s been arrested by the Capital Yamen! They said the young master is suspected of being involved in the recent murders of young women, and they’re taking him back for interrogation! I didn’t dare delay—I ran straight back to report!”