Maintaining a degree of respect for Hong Fu, Jing Wen stood up and carried Hong Fu’s body across the street. As he moved across the street, Hong Jingfei, who had remained unmoved from the table for the entire battle, silently stood up, following Jing Wen.


    Looking at the corpse of her father, Hong Jingfei’s eyes contained no sorrow or anger on his face, no frustration or helplessness, only calm.


    Because of this pensive look on her face, her delicate and youthful features appeared very composed. The girl was fourteen, at the spring of her youth, yet she was like an old well, ice-bound waters, a fallen leaf, a dried-up tree: lifeless.


    Jing Wen felt some need to provide an atonement for the girl but said no such thing. It was because she could not talk or hear, but also because he had already released his feelings toward Hong Fu’s remains, that his throat had become somewhat dried.


    He arrived at a Taoist temple, and left Hong Fu’s body to one of the Taoist priests along with two taels of silver. After doing this, Jing Wen rested his bow on his back, and, placing one of his hands behind his back, he exchanged for an oil-paper umbrella at a nearby stall before returning to Jing manor.


    The umbrella was in a bright red, appearing lively and charming. As the snow got heavier, Jing Wen unfolded the umbrella, and moved next to Hong Jingfei, sheltering her. Under the heavy blizzard, Jing Wen slowly left the area.


    To walk beneath the same umbrella with the man who had killed your father was a very unusual matter. Yet recalling what her father had told her with his last ‘words’, Hong Jingfei emotionlessly followed the blind youth.


    Hong Fu, the former disciple of Tianmen Sect and a master diviner, had died with a whole body. It was not a terrible death, for he had departed without resentment and will even have a proper burial with the two taels of silver Jing Wen had given to the Taoist temple. Aside from that broken-down residency, his only lingering attachment would be his daughter, who Jing Wen had promised to support materially.


    As for if Jing Wen was afraid whether Hong Jingfei would take revenge against him, the answer was a simple no. He could not sense any Qi on her body, which either meant she was not a cultivator, or that she has reached a state of Xian, where she could blend in with the laws of the world. Yet if Hong Jingfei had reached such a powerful state, then how could she have let Jing Wen kill Hong Fu? Thus, the only conclusion was that, as Hong Fu had said, the girl was incapable of martial arts.


    The simplest way for an ordinary person to kill a cultivator was through the use of another cultivator, yet Hong Fu would be entirely incapable of this, since she could neither talk nor hear. Even if she communicates through sign language or writing, she would still be constantly surrounded by Jing Wen’s servants, who could report any strange activities. It would simply be impossible for Hong Fu to contact individuals potentially dangerous to Jing Wen.


    Of course, she could still kill him through poison, or act against him in his sleep. But Jing Wen did not believe her capable of acquiring poison that could kill someone who had once been in the state of Qi Manifestation or skilled enough to bypass Jing Wen’s heightened senses even in sleep.


    After being received by Mingzhu, who had been standing beneath the eaves of Jing manor the entire time, Jing Wen asked without any fluttering in his tone, “Can anyone at the manor use sign language?”


    Mingzhu stared at the girl behind Jing Wen, before slowly nodding. She said, “Lady Wang Zhixin knows sign language.”


    ---


    Wang Zhixin had recently escaped hell.


    Naturally, the word ‘hell’ was a slight exaggeration, but it truly was ‘Diyu’ (地獄 - ‘underground prison’, the Chinese underworld). While the other servants and concubines of Mo Xi had not known the extent of perverseness of Mo Xi’s underground prison, for those who knew had long died, she had stayed in that twisted place for two decades and was long aware of the true nature of that secret chamber.


    This was not because Mo Xi held some unspoken affection towards her. Instead, it was as he knew the scandal that would be associated if someone had identified the body of Wang Zhixin was something even he could not bear. After all, she was the descendant of a noble family; the meaning behind her death would naturally be very different from those of ordinary girls and daughters of merchants. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Thus, Mo Xi had completely concealed her existence from the world, imprisoning her within those chambers where light cannot shine through. The number of servants and concubines that had come and gone by, Wang Zhixin had long lost count. In the nearly endless list of Mo Xi’s victims, there was bound to be a few disfigured and impairment. This naturally included those deaf and those mute.


    When Zhou Aimin had appeared before her, Wang Zhixin had long abandoned illusions of leaving that secret chamber and given up hope towards life. Due to the second reason, she had concluded that even if she had somehow managed escaped Mo Xi’s imprisonment, her life would be akin to living with a body yet without a soul. Indeed, she had given her chance of escape for the more innocent and naive Mingzhu, and prepared herself to suffer two more decades under Mo Xi.


    So she was exceptionally shocked when those Imperial Guards had entered Mo Xi’s chambers the next day and, that before she could gather her thoughts, she along with the rest of those imprisoned by Mo Xi, would certainly be issued an edict to come under Jing Wen’s household.


    Moreover, the Jing household was exceptionally generous with their salaries and the treatment of servants. Their leisure time far exceeded their workload, and the environment of Jing manor was indeed excellent. Even the lowest servants were treated better than the most authoritative manager in Mo Xi’s household, not to mention that her status was now the household manager, overlooking the various servants within the manor.


    It was truly like leaving hell and entering heaven.


    For this reason, she was eternally grateful to that little Taoist, and to the mysterious young master Jing. Thus, when she heard that Mingzhu had wanted her to use her skills to help Jing Wen, she immediately dropped the task she was on to receive Jing Wen’s personal servant.


    Smiling at the youthful girl before her, Wang Zhixin asked, “Zhu’er, what does young master Jing want me for?”


    Mingzhu’s long eyelashes fluttered as she said somewhat nervously, “Zhixin


    , young master has brought a mute girl to the manor. I had heard you are capable of sign language, and recommended you to tend to her.”


    Wang Zhixin looked at Mingzhu. Smiling, she said, “My status is now lower than yours. Please do not call me


    . I am indeed capable of using a little sign language.”


    Mingzhu gave a sigh of relief. From the first moment she saw the girl standing motionlessly behind Jing Wen, she felt a strange sense of nobility that could not be contained by the rags she was wearing. It was very different from the aura given off by Zhou Aimin or Jing Wen; it was something far more otherworldly. It was like the feeling given off by Taoist temples.


    “Zhixin


    , the young master seemed to value the girl highly.”


    Wang Zhixin quickly grasped the meaning behind Mingzhu’s word. Nodding her head, she said, “Don’t worry, I will assign her to one of the buildings in the northern wing. Besides me, Xiao Lu (小路) is also capable of sign language and can help the servants communicate with her. The honourable guest would not be mistreated.”


    Mingzhu gave a half-bow towards Wang Zhixin. “Then I will trouble Zhixin


    .”


    ---


    After sending Hong Jingfei to her new chambers, Jing Wen took off his thick robes and placed his weapons onto the bookshelf once more. Unfortunately, merely changing to a new set of clothing did not improve Jing Wen’s situation.


    What he said to Hong Fu was true, that the pebbles within his body would not kill him, but that does not it was harmless. Those shrapnels contained the Qi of Hong Fu, and was capable of damaging the circulation of blood and Qi within the body.


    To remove foreign objects was certainly no easy task, and require an exceptionally skilled hand. When Jing Ping was alive, there was an old physician that was precisely skilled in retrieving shrapnels from the body. Yet, the old physician had disappeared immediately after the Prime Minister’s death.


    Since among the servants that had come from Mo Xi’s house, that the vast majority, such as Mingzhu and Wang Zhixin, were female and naturally unpracticed in medicine, Jing Wen could only visit a public clinic.


    Zhou Aimin and Yang’er shared the same desire towards Lin’an as all those who lived in this world. They wished to explore this city that was recognised as the capital of the known world. The previous time they had toured the streets of Lin’an had ended eruptly due to encountering Gao Shu, which had left their yearning towards the capital unsated. Seeing Jing Wen preparing to walk into the busy boulevards of Lin’an, Yang’er particularly so wanted to capture this precious chance. With help form Zhou Aimin and using every trick known to little girls, they managed to accompany Jing Wen out of Jing manor. The three walked out of the main door and into Zhongshan (中山) street, they spent money like water, squandering silver as though it was dirt.


    Zhongshan street connected to Zhuxian (朱仙) street, which was famous for its various clinics. The smell of medicine permeated even the cracks between the footpath, with rich and poor alike lining up at the various stores.


    Jing Wen, carrying boxes wrapped in cloth, swiftly walked past the streets dense by bystanders. In the end, both had purchased over five taels. Since Jing Wen could not afford to let Yang’er and the frail Zhou Aimin carry the goods they had purchased, he had held onto them silently until they had finally passed Zhongshan street.


    Jing Wen had expected Yang’er to spend money wantonly, but did not expect the master was also like the servant. Zhou Aimin spends money as a woman would, and purchased various trinkets that were popular among woman as well. In the end, Jing Wen had only attributed it to Zhou Aimin’s curious personality and said nothing as he continued to walk along Zhuxian street.


    After walking for a short while, Jing Wen arrived at an inauspicious looking shop. The sign above the store was not boldly written in gold as those clinics with many patrons, and the store did not smell of medicine, but instead possess a strangely sour stench.


    Yang’er curiously eyed the clinic with her bright eyes. After a long moment, she asked, “Where is the shop owner?”


    Jing Wen gave a sigh from behind the stacks of boxes he was carrying. He murmured, “I don’t know either.”