After casually catching the woman who had suddenly rolled down the stone steps of the dock and nearly crashed into him, Chu Yu said nothing and walked straight ahead, as if nothing had happened.
Shadow Thirteen followed silently five steps behind his master, feeling vaguely uneasy.
Though his master hadn’t uttered a single word, Shadow Thirteen could tell his mood wasn’t good—after all, his master had always disliked being touched, and just now, although the situation was urgent and there were several layers of clothing between them, he had still made physical contact with that strange young woman.
Even though his master always claimed not to believe in “spirits and nonsense,” things had been going so badly for them lately that it was hard not to overthink.
He wasn’t even going to bring up the disastrous incident at the Baixiang Pavilion in Tongzhou, but now in Linqing City, they still hadn’t found the person they were looking for. Along the way, they’d been inexplicably ambushed several times. It would be strange if his master was in a good mood…
This time out, Shadow Thirteen was the only shadow guard accompanying Chu Yu. He had to stay sharp and be extra cautious.
Shadow Thirteen had always been careful and steady, and his martial skills were among the best of the shadow guards. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been personally selected by their master to handle this particular mission alone.
He was well aware of his master’s taboos and always kept a respectful distance. Yet today, for some reason, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts drift. Just as he managed to rein in his wandering mind, he realized his master had suddenly stopped walking.
His heart skipped a beat, and he quickly stepped forward to ask in a low voice, “Master, is something the matter?”
Chu Yu stood still in thought for a moment before finally speaking. “Search every brothel, private residence, and underground den in Linqing again… Don’t forget the music and dance halls. We leave for Daohua Village no later than the morning after tomorrow.”
So… he hadn’t given up?
But whether he gave up or not wasn’t for a shadow guard to question. His master’s orders were to be obeyed without question.
Suppressing a sigh, Shadow Thirteen bowed his head silently and disappeared to carry out the task.
Unlike the grave, heavy atmosphere between master and guard, Mu Qing and her two maids, Bingtang and Xueli, rode through Linqing City in a cheerful and lively mood, laughing and chatting the whole way to the city’s largest inn.
After a hot bath, a good nap, and a grand meal at Linqing’s best restaurant, Mu Qing was fully restored and ready to implement her operation plan—step one, market research.
As the daughter of the renowned wealthy Mu family from Jiangnan, it would be a waste if she had no business acumen at all.
Who doesn’t love making money? In her previous life, Mu Qing had been a regular office worker, always at the mercy of her boss. When did she ever get to be her own boss, reaping the profits?
But now, after transmigrating, she had become a rich, beautiful heiress. Only now did she realize how exhilarating the game of making money with money truly was.
This was what people meant when they said poverty limits imagination.
With money—even in ancient times—one could live quite comfortably.
And with just a little thought and effort, she could help her family make even more money. That was even more delightful, wasn’t it?
Especially since this lifetime’s body came with an innate gift—a “dog’s nose” and a “golden tongue,” giving her a super-sensitive sense of smell and taste. To not pursue a career in spices or food would be nothing short of a waste of talent.
So, even while claiming to want a lazy, carefree life, Mu Qing had inadvertently led the Mu family’s ventures into the spice and food industries.
She had even created some rare spices and novel dishes that no one else had, propelling the Mu family’s Xiang Bao Zhai and Wei Mei Lou into widespread fame.
Because of her unique talent, the formulas she developed were impossible to replicate. That meant both the spice shop and restaurant truly were one of a kind, with booming business and cash flowing in.
With such a wonderful life, why let it be ruined by some stupid book?
So what if he was Dragon-AoTian?
Once he rose to power, he might be harder to deal with, but right now, the story hadn’t even begun. He was still just a nobody. Eliminating the potential danger should be a breeze—of course, not that she intended to bully the underprivileged or be a heartless rich girl.
If the future big boss just needed some start-up capital to rise to greatness, then fine—let’s help him out.
He wanted to study at a prestigious academy and climb the imperial examination ladder? Tuition, travel expenses—she’d cover them! As for the reason? Easy. Just call it doing a good deed for the day.
She had money, and she’d do as she pleased.
He was, after all, the protagonist of this fictional world. Mu Qing didn’t want to become cannon fodder, but she certainly didn’t want to make an enemy out of him either.
Hand the big boss a torch and ask for a safe passage—surely that wasn’t too much to ask?
Plan—locked in.
That half a month of seasickness hadn’t been for nothing. While clinging to life, she had long since devised the “optimal solution.” So now that she was here, she took her time. While the tight-lipped Xueli secretly investigated Dragon-AoTian’s whereabouts, the outgoing Bingtang accompanied her on carefree tours of the city.
Each maid had her role, each played to her strengths, and everyone was happy.
That had always been the pattern—but this time, things went differently.
She and Bingtang strolled and snacked through the city, having a blast. She even discovered some particularly unique spices and foods, already envisioning what types of incense would sell best here, and what dishes would dominate the market…
If Dragon-AoTian wanted to do business locally, she could even consider investing. As a wealthy individual, passing up a guaranteed return would be foolish.
Of course, if the big boss had no interest in business and just wanted to study, then she might just open the ventures herself. Just imagining a city where everyone used Xiang Bao Zhai incense and dined on Wei Mei Lou’s daily specials—the scene of such a joyful frenzy… ah, she could never get tired of watching it.
Most importantly, the customers were happy, her family got rich, and everyone was satisfied. Why not?
Mu Qing was feeling great, lost in dreams of profit. But when they returned to the inn that evening and she saw Xueli’s apologetic face, her heart sank instantly.
She tossed aside her half-eaten bowl of corn porridge, grabbed Xueli’s arm, and asked in a low voice, “So? Did you find anything?”
Xueli shook her head. “No one in the city has heard of him…”
Mu Qing was stunned. “No way. Could we be wrong?”
Thankfully, she recovered quickly and asked again, “Did you tell them he’s not from the city, but from a fishing village outside?”
Xueli gave a bitter smile. “I did. But they all said there are water sources all around here, and every village has fishermen. How would they know which fishing village?”
Ah? Seriously?
Mu Qing was at a loss. As she stood there, confused, a nearby waiter who had been sweeping up and waiting for the last guests to leave couldn’t help approaching. “Honored guests, are you looking for someone?”
Mu Qing nodded and casually described the part of the book relating to Dragon-AoTian. To her surprise, the seemingly plain waiter snapped his fingers and said, “Oh, him? I know him. He’s from Daohua Village, fifty li south of the city near the border with Liaocheng. We’re from the same hometown.”
Talk about searching high and low only to find him effortlessly.
Mu Qing straightened up excitedly and asked politely, “So what’s his situation now?”
The waiter didn’t hesitate. “If you’re asking about him, I’m suddenly wide awake. But… what’s your relation to him? You don’t sound local—why come all this way to find him?”
Without batting an eye, Mu Qing pushed the question onto her older brother Mu Hai, saying it was for business and just helping with inquiries. As the waiter nodded in sudden understanding and a bit of relief, he began telling Dragon-AoTian’s story.
It wasn’t long, but it was dramatic—undeniably a Dragon-AoTian tale. Mu Qing immediately understood why the waiter had seemed so relieved. Apparently, our Dragon-AoTian had been a lady-killer since childhood. No wonder he survived so well on his own.
And yes, he had always been “blessed by peach blossoms.” From village belle Xiangxiu to the scholar’s lovely daughter Wanru, nearly every girl in the village—pretty or not—liked him. He was practically public enemy number one among the local men. No wonder the waiter remembered him so clearly.
But the end of the story was unexpected.
“Word is, he left the village suddenly last month. Headed south to Yangzhou. Said he was going to stay with some relatives there…”
Yangzhou?
Well, as long as it’s not Yuhang.
Mu Qing felt a little disappointed, but also relieved.
Still, since she was already here, she might as well go check the village. Thirty li—it’d only take two hours for a round trip.
At least verifying it in person would justify the effort she’d made.
The waiter cheerfully told her she could go ask his cousin, the village belle Xiangxiu, and to pass along his regards. Mu Qing instantly understood everything from the hopeful look in his eyes.
She thanked him, and under his eager gaze, took Bingtang and Xueli back to rest. The next morning, using the excuse of a shopping trip, she borrowed the carriage her brother Mu Hai had hired and set off directly for Daohua Village.
Once there, things were just as the waiter had described. Dragon-AoTian’s family was gone. The girl next door, Xiangxiu, eyed Mu Qing with thinly veiled hostility.
When Mu Qing again used her brother as an excuse, Xiangxiu’s expression softened and she gave a more detailed account of Dragon-AoTian’s departure to Yangzhou before walking away.
After all the effort, only to get this result—Mu Qing felt a bit adrift.
She didn’t know why the plot had shifted, but for now, it seemed she was safe?
But what about later?
For some reason, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d dodged the first day of the month but wouldn’t escape the fifteenth.
Since transmigrating, this was the first time Mu Qing had felt truly powerless. It was as if some invisible force was manipulating everything—and she hated that feeling.
That unease chilled her physically. She instinctively shivered, and Xueli, ever attentive, quickly unwrapped a bundle and took out a cloak to put on her.
Mu Qing reached out to pull it over her shoulders. It was a new design she hadn’t worn yet. Lightweight and warm, it was perfect for Jiangnan’s mild winters, where fashion and comfort took precedence over heavy insulation.
But she hadn’t expected how chilly this northern town would be in early spring—and the wind caught the cloak before she could secure it.
Even more coincidentally, there was a plow ox working a field nearby. The cloak landed right on its horns, startling it into backing up and letting out a loud bellow.
Mu Qing groaned inwardly. Was she really about to spook a cow?
As soon as the thought crossed her mind, the ox let out another loud cry and began charging downhill after the fluttering cloak.
The event unfolded too fast for Mu Qing to react. But then she suddenly saw, at the bottom of the slope, a toddler no more than two or three years old sitting on the ground, oblivious to the approaching danger.
Snowy shrieked. The child, though startled into crying, had no concept of danger and no ability to dodge.
Mu Qing sighed, quickly gauged the distance, and made a split-second decision—she dashed down the slope at full speed. If luck was on her side, she’d reach the child first and save him.
If luck wasn’t—no, that wasn’t possible. Wasn’t she a “koi of fortune”?
Worst-case scenario, if luck really failed, then so be it. Dying under a cow’s hooves while saving a child—at least that was noble. And besides, the cloak was hers.
The slope was rugged, with sharp stones scattered all around. Mu Qing protected her head and face, but her arms and legs still got scraped.
The wounds stung, and the air reeked of blood. She was definitely bleeding.
But she had no time to care. She curled her body tighter and rolled faster.
The child’s cries grew louder—closer.
So did the pounding of the ox’s hooves.
Mu Qing knew the moment was near. She unfurled her body and reached out, scooping the child into her arms—and the moment she touched him, she suddenly felt herself lift off the ground, as if someone had snatched her up and carried her into the air.
At the same moment, the crazed ox charged past the exact spot they had just been in.
If it weren’t for this last-minute rescue, the outcome would’ve been unthinkable.
As she was gently lowered to the ground, she heard Xueli crying with joy in the distance. The child in her arms was sobbing uncontrollably, and though Mu Qing was still shaken, she turned to thank their savior:
“Many thanks, good sir—”
She turned mid-sentence, caught a glimpse of the rescuer’s face, and froze.
The familiar white robes. The familiar veiled hat. The same familiar person?
He really was a chivalrous hero who loved helping others. This time, she had to thank him properly.
Excited, Mu Qing reached out and grabbed his arm. “It’s you again, hero—”
Before she could finish, the valiant hero who had just performed a second daring rescue in three days suddenly swayed—and collapsed straight to the ground.
