Chapter 069: Reunion—The Bloody Cleansing of the Liu Manor

“Meow!” A black cat with gleaming eyes suddenly darted out in front of her, startling Jin’er so much that she came to an abrupt halt. Only when it cried out and scurried away did Jin’er finally let out a long breath, standing in place, gasping for air as she surveyed her surroundings.

Gazing at the tall white tower ahead, she knew she was already close to the Imperial Medical Hall. Just a half street past the tower and she would arrive. The thought brought a vague excitement to her heart.

Mo Yan, you must come...

Jin’er took a deep breath, preparing to continue forward, when she suddenly remembered the time—her poisoning might be about to act up. Hastily, she raised her hand to retrieve the antidote from her bosom, readying herself.

But just then, two figures suddenly appeared at the corner not far ahead. From their staggering movements, it was clear they were drunk.

Jin’er frowned, quickly lowering her hand and edging toward the wall, but the two had already spotted her.

“Huh? Why is there a little girl out on the street so late?” One of the drunkards said, ambling toward her, with the other following close behind.

Jin’er’s heart tightened; she immediately turned and ran, trying to dart past them, but unexpectedly, one of the drunkards moved with surprising agility and grabbed her.

“Ah! Let me go! Let me go!” Jin’er screamed in terror, struggling with all her might. She tried to use the boxing techniques she had recently practiced, but her strength was too meager—her blows were no more than a tickle to the man.

“Shh!” The other drunkard came forward, clamping a hand over her mouth and scolded in a low, impatient voice, “Why are you shouting? Don’t you see everyone’s asleep? What if you wake them all up?”

“Mmm! Mmm!” Jin’er looked at the two in utter fear, panic swirling inside her.

The drunkard leaned in, scrutinizing her face for a long moment before turning to his companion with a leering smile. “Heh heh, this girl is quite... pretty. If we sell her to Drunken Red Pavilion, we’ll get a good price.”

At his words, Jin’er froze, panic surging stronger. No! She couldn’t let them sell her!

With that, she clenched her teeth, stopped her wild flailing, balled her fists, and suddenly struck hard at the drunkard’s groin.

The man howled in anguish, letting go to protect himself. Jin’er seized the chance to rake her fingernails fiercely across the hand that covered her mouth. The surprised drunkard yelped in pain and jerked his hand away.

In an instant, Jin’er shoved the blocking drunkard aside and sprinted forward.

“Damn it! After her!” An angry shout rang out as the two gave chase. Perhaps the pain had sobered them, for their steps were now swift and sure.

But Jin’er was no slowpoke herself, even gaining a slight lead. Just as she was about to widen the distance, a sharp pain stabbed her chest, making her eyes go wide. She stumbled and fell uncontrollably forward.

Damn it, why did it have to flare up now!

Her body shuddered uncontrollably in pain, cold seeping from her very bones and spreading rapidly. Her palms and elbows had been scraped raw in the fall, but compared to the agony wracking her body, those wounds were nothing.

“Heh heh, let’s see you run now! Daring to hurt me—tonight I’ll teach you a lesson!” The drunkard caught up, gloating as he bent to grab her.

Yet, just as his hand was about to touch her, he suddenly screamed, jerking his hand back.

Immediately, both drunkards howled in terror, tumbling to the ground, then scrambling away in utter panic, as though possessed.

Jin’er was trembling so badly she couldn’t even turn over, only hearing their screams fading into the distance, clueless as to what had happened.

Suddenly, a gust of wind lifted her hair, and the next moment, someone gently picked her up.

“Damn it, it really is you!” came a voice tinged with both annoyance and joy. Jin’er struggled to look up—it was none other than Mo Yan.

A faint smile tugged at her pale lips, and tears instantly pooled in her eyes.

Mo Yan frowned, heart twisting with worry. He held her tightly, leaped onto the rooftops, and after a few swift bounds, brought her to the topmost corridor of the white tower. There, he quickly produced silver needles to administer acupuncture, then began channeling his fire energy into her frozen body.

As warmth gradually returned, Jin’er’s consciousness cleared. She found herself sitting on his lap, nestled in his arms, feeling like a delicate bird seeking refuge. She looked up at Mo Yan, who was concentrating with closed eyes, and thought how wonderful it was to see him again.

It wasn’t just because he could suppress the poison, but simply because she liked him. Though he always gave her the impression of being wild and flirtatious, she couldn’t bring herself to dislike or reject him. Instead, she found a sense of peace in his presence.

Lying in his broad embrace, breathing in his gentle scent, Jin’er felt an extraordinary calmness. At least for this moment, she wished for nothing more. She couldn’t help but be a little enamored with this feeling.

She closed her eyes, and drifted into a deep sleep...

At the first crow of dawn, Jin’er awoke with a start. Glancing outside, she saw it was still early—there was not yet a hint of light in the east—and let out a long breath.

Turning back, she nuzzled into Mo Yan’s chest, reluctant to move, like a lazy kitten wishing to sleep a little longer.

“Awake?” A teasing voice sounded above her, and Jin’er stiffened.

She slowly raised her head, meeting Mo Yan’s dazzling, mischievous smile. She couldn’t help but swallow nervously.

“Aren’t you going to report anything to me?” Mo Yan asked, never taking his eyes off her.

Startled, Jin’er pursed her lips and said softly, “Thank you... for saving me again.” She tried to struggle free from his embrace, but Mo Yan only held her tighter.

“Don’t move. I like holding you like this,” he said with a slight frown, a hint of possessiveness in his tone.

Jin’er blushed, inexplicably nervous at his boldness, her heart beating wildly.

“Good thing I guessed you might return to the Imperial Medical Hall last night, so I waited on top of this tower as soon as night fell. And I did catch you in time—thank goodness I picked this perfect vantage point, or else you might have...” Mo Yan sighed, helpless. “You really are a troublesome girl.”

Jin’er bit her lip, feeling a little guilty. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”

“So you do know I’d worry? Do you realize how worried I’ve been these past days?” Mo Yan’s voice rose in agitation, scaring Jin’er into shrinking her neck.

Seeing her pitiful look, Mo Yan’s heart softened, and he couldn’t bear to scold her further. He softened his tone, frowning, “Alright, alright, as long as you’re safe now. Don’t disappear so suddenly again, understand?”

Jin’er looked at him timidly and nodded.

“I know what happened. It was Qin’er who drove you away, wasn’t it? If Xiao Jiu hadn’t stopped me that day, I’d have strangled her myself!” Mo Yan recalled the scene with great irritation.

Jin’er was startled. “How did you know? What did you do to her?”

“I overheard their argument and rushed in. I didn’t kill her, but I nearly did! Left her with a head full of blood!” At that, Mo Yan looked smug and satisfied.

Jin’er was surprised, but deep down, delighted! It felt wonderful to have someone stand up for her—what a shame she hadn’t witnessed it herself.

“By the way, Jin’er, where have you been these days?” Mo Yan looked down at her.

“I was lucky. After leaving, I ran into my long-lost aunt and followed her back to the Liu Manor, working there as a servant,” Jin’er explained simply.

“The Liu Manor? The wealthiest family in Junzhou?” Mo Yan thought for a moment.

“Yes. You know of them?”

“I’ve heard. You’re working as a servant there?” Mo Yan frowned. “Why not come with me instead?”

Jin’er laughed. “Why would I? I don’t need your pity.”

“You’ll be mine sooner or later anyway. Why not now? Then you wouldn’t have to suffer all these unnecessary hardships,” Mo Yan replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Who says I’ll be yours? That’s your wishful thinking—I never agreed to it,” Jin’er retorted.

Mo Yan raised an eyebrow, suddenly leaning in so close their noses nearly touched. Jin’er tensed, barely daring to breathe.

With a sudden smile, Mo Yan teased, “A husband as handsome as I am—you won’t find another even if you searched with a lantern.”

Jin’er wanted to laugh but dared not move, afraid she might accidentally touch his lips. All she could do was glare at him, silently praying he’d move away.

Perhaps sensing her nervousness, Mo Yan chuckled and finally straightened up. “So, have you decided?”

“I refuse! I want to go back to the Liu Manor—my aunt is still there. Come on, take me back. It’s almost dawn,” Jin’er said, struggling to her feet. This time, Mo Yan didn’t stop her.

“Fine. I promised you two years of freedom, so I’ll keep my word.” With that, Mo Yan stood up, using his hand for support.

But as he rose, he staggered and nearly fell. Jin’er quickly steadied him, worried. “Are you alright?” Only then did she notice how pale he looked.

Mo Yan smiled faintly. “It’s nothing, just depleted my inner energy. I’ll recover in a few days.”

“Really?” Jin’er frowned with concern.

“Don’t worry.” Before he finished, Mo Yan suddenly swept her up in his arms. “But I appreciate your concern,” he said, then leapt from the tower.

The vertigo made Jin’er bury her head in his chest, clutching him tightly.

Mo Yan smiled, holding her as he sped toward the Liu Manor.

Evading the guards with ease, he delivered Jin’er to her courtyard.

“Which room is yours?” Before he finished, Jin’er anxiously covered his lips, signaling him to be quiet.

After wriggling out of his arms, she pointed to the last room on the right and whispered, “That one. I’m going back—you should leave now, it’ll be daylight soon.” With that, she waved at Mo Yan and tiptoed away.

Mo Yan smiled, watching her enter her room before turning to leave. He lightly touched his lips, as if her little hand’s warmth still lingered, a subtle emotion stirring within him.

Recalling his recent days of restless anxiety and the joy and relief he’d felt upon seeing her again, he had to admit—he truly liked this little girl.

Now, seeing all those other beauties, he found them bland and flavorless, his mind always returning to that tiny, vivid face. Had she bewitched him? Was she his destined nemesis?

Ah, never mind, he thought. Better to let things unfold naturally. Whatever the case, finding her safe and sound again was blessing enough.

—

Inside Jin’er’s room, Madam Lin, who hadn’t slept well all night, immediately sat up when she heard the door open.

“Jin’er! You’re finally back!” She rushed over, scrutinizing her from head to toe before breathing a sigh of relief. “You scared me half to death—I was so worried.”

“Aunt, I told you not to worry about me.” Jin’er smiled, taking Madam Lin’s hand, but the pain made her gasp softly.

“What happened?” Madam Lin anxiously turned Jin’er’s palm over to find it scraped and bloodied, her concern rising. “How did you get hurt? What happened?”

“It’s nothing, just a fall. I’ll put some medicine on it and be fine.” Jin’er withdrew her hand and fetched the medicine to tend to her wounds.

“Does it hurt?” Madam Lin helped, worry etched on her face.

“It’s just a scratch, nothing serious.” Jin’er smiled.

“Avoid water for a few days. I’ll handle everything. By the way, where did you go last night?” Madam Lin probed gently.

Jin’er scratched her head, annoyed at not having thought up an excuse. But Madam Lin quickly added, “Never mind, you don’t have to say if you don’t want to. As long as you’re alright.”

Jin’er looked at her aunt with gratitude. “Thank you, Aunt.”

“Silly child, no need for thanks.” Madam Lin smiled, fondly smoothing her messy hair.

At that moment, the sounds of doors opening and voices drifted from outside—it was the other maids and matrons rising for the day. Jin’er and Madam Lin got up to wash and prepare for the new day.

Another new day had begun—it felt wonderful.

In the days that followed, Jin’er and Ying’er diligently practiced martial arts every day, while Chu Yifan began visiting every other day as well.

Ying’er was overjoyed; previously, she’d had to beg him to teach her. It seemed masters favored hardworking disciples, after all.

Jin’er also enjoyed their routine—her progress was evident day by day, so much so that Ying’er’s martial instructor couldn’t help but praise her every time. Though Ying’er complained at first, she gradually accepted it. Jin’er’s talent was undeniable, and nothing could change that. With Jin’er’s companionship and guidance, even Brother Qi Fei began praising Ying’er’s improvement. That was enough for her.

One afternoon, as the two were engrossed in practice, Master Liu sent a maid to summon Jin’er to the study.

“What does Father want with Jin’er?” Ying’er asked curiously.

“I don’t know,” the maid replied.

Ying’er frowned, tossed her sword aside, and said, “Alright, Jin’er, I’ll go with you.”

Jin’er nodded, sensing trouble, and didn’t refuse. The three of them headed for the study.

Inside, Master Liu looked up as they entered, smiling at Ying’er. “Ying’er, you came too?”

“What, can’t I visit my father?” Ying’er pouted, walking over.

“Of course you can,” Master Liu laughed, pulling her close. “I hear you’ve been practicing diligently. I didn’t expect you to come by.”

“Mm, but it’s okay to slack off and rest now and then.” Ying’er grinned.

“You’re still the same,” Master Liu said with a helpless smile.

“Master, your servant Jin’er greets you. May I ask why you summoned me?” Jin’er finally spoke up.

At her voice, Master Liu turned and fixed Jin’er with a long look before saying, “You’re quite a likable girl—no wonder Zhang’er is so interested.”

At this, Jin’er’s heart skipped a beat, a sense of foreboding rising.

“Father, what do you mean by that?” Ying’er sensed something amiss.

Master Liu stroked his beard and smiled. “Yesterday, Zhang’er and your stepmother came to me, saying he wants to marry your maid, Jin’er.”

“What?!” Ying’er exclaimed.

Jin’er, too, looked up in shock. Marry Liu Zhang? Was this some kind of joke?

“I thought it was absurd and refused, but then he promised that if I agreed, he’d study hard and stop being so wayward.” Master Liu glanced meaningfully at Jin’er.

“Father, you believed him just like that? Aren’t you too easy to fool?” Ying’er said, exasperated.

“He was very earnest and begged me persistently. Your stepmother also vouched for him...”

“A guarantee? What good is that? Once he gets his way, he’ll revert to his old self. Do you really think you can control him then?” Ying’er retorted.

Master Liu looked troubled. “But you know he idles about all day, and I’ve always worried how he’ll inherit the family. Maybe this is a chance—what if he’s truly resolved this time?”

“What if... Father, are you really going to force Jin’er to marry Liu Zhang on a mere ‘what if’?” Ying’er pressed.

“Force her?” Master Liu was startled, realizing he hadn’t asked Jin’er’s opinion. He turned to her. “Girl, would you be willing to marry the second young master?”

Jin’er, who had been frowning in silence, shook her head firmly and calmly.

Master Liu stared at her in disbelief. “You would refuse to marry the second young master of the Liu family? Are you sure?”

Jin’er shook her head again without a trace of hesitation. Hmph, being wealthy was nothing—who cared!

“Father, listen to me. If he’s truly resolved, give him a year. If he reforms, studies hard, and proves himself, then you can consider marrying Jin’er to him.” Ying’er gave Jin’er a reassuring glance.

Master Liu pondered for a moment and agreed, praising Ying’er’s cleverness.

As they left the study, Jin’er anxiously tugged at Ying’er’s sleeve. “Ying’er, I don’t want to marry the second young master.”

Ying’er grinned. “Don’t worry, I know exactly what he’s like. His little tricks are no match for me!” She raised her voice on the last sentence, pointedly glancing at a patch of evergreens nearby.

Following her gaze, Jin’er saw a sleeve poking out from behind the bushes—she knew at once who it was.

Noticing Jin’er looking his way, Liu Zhang stood up, glaring at them while angrily shredding leaves.

Jin’er only burst out laughing, then turned away. “Thank you, Ying’er.”

“Don’t mention it—we’re sisters, aren’t we?” Ying’er bumped Jin’er’s arm affectionately.

Jin’er smiled and nodded, walking off with Ying’er, ignoring Liu Zhang’s tantrum behind them.

In the following days, Liu Zhang did make a show of reforming, but it didn’t last, and the talk of marriage soon faded away.

That night, after Madam Lin had fallen asleep, Jin’er was still poring over her medical book by lamplight.

A faint knock sounded at the door. Jin’er frowned and hesitated, but got up to open it. No one was there. Strange—had she misheard?

As she was about to close the door, she noticed a flowerpot on the ground to the left.

She paused, then bent down to pick it up—a wild chrysanthemum, exactly like the one Mo Yan had given her at the Imperial Medical Hall.

Jin’er smiled softly, looking up into the dark courtyard before closing the door.

That fellow—coming so late, and not even showing himself... Though she grumbled, warmth filled her heart as she cradled the pot like a treasure, afraid to drop it. Little did she know, her every move was already under someone’s watchful gaze.

On the rooftop, Mo Yan pressed a tile aside, peering in. Seeing her so delighted, he contentedly replaced the tile and lay back, hands behind his head, savoring her sweet smile.

The next morning, Madam Lin noticed the pot of wild chrysanthemums on the table. “Oh? Where did this flower come from? I didn’t see it last night.”

Jin’er smiled. “You went to bed early. Xiao Mei from the courtyard sent it over later.”

“Oh, how thoughtful of her. It’s lovely,” Madam Lin said, admiring the flower.

Jin’er only smiled, her heart stirring with strange emotion.

The days that followed were full and happy for Jin’er. She practiced martial arts with Ying’er by day, sometimes played the zither, studied medicine at night, and practiced her stance. Every three days, Mo Yan would send her another flower.

Luckily, the flowers were all similar, and Madam Lin didn’t pay much attention—otherwise, she’d have been beset with questions.

Another night, the knocking came again. Jin’er glanced at the sleeping Madam Lin and quietly went to open the door.

How odd—he’d just sent a flower yesterday. Why was he back tonight?

Opening the door, she found herself face to face with that long-missed, fiery figure. Jin’er looked up to see him smiling charmingly at her, and she felt awkward.

“You—why are you here again? Wait, no flower?” she asked, avoiding his gaze and glancing him over.

Mo Yan tilted her chin, muttering in annoyance, “What, you only want to see flowers and not me? That hurts.”

Jin’er brushed his hand away. “So what if I do? Flowers are prettier than you.”

“You!” Mo Yan was momentarily speechless, taking a deep breath as if to leave.

“Hey!” Jin’er grabbed his arm, laughing. “What, are you sulking? Really, a grown man pouting?”

“You don’t want to see me, so I’ll just go,” Mo Yan said, sounding aggrieved.

Jin’er burst out laughing, giving him a playful punch. “Alright, alright, what brings you here so late?”

Staring at her radiant smile, Mo Yan felt as if a thousand blossoms bloomed in his heart. Her smile was unique, irresistible, utterly captivating.

“Hey!” Jin’er waved a hand to snap him out of his daze.

Mo Yan finally spoke. “I just came to tell you I’m going to see my master tomorrow to ask about the Silver Snake venom. He wasn’t there last time I went. But don’t worry, I’ll be back before your poison acts up. Now, get some rest, I’m leaving.” He turned to go, but Jin’er grabbed him again.

“What is it?” Mo Yan asked.

“Thank you,” Jin’er said sincerely.

He’d been seeking a cure for her poison all this time, never once asking for anything in return, not even using his ability to suppress the poison as leverage. How could she not be moved?

“Silly girl, there’s no need for thanks,” Mo Yan replied gently, pinching her cheek before leaving.

The night wind lifted his hair; a smile played on his exquisite face, so enchanting even the wind seemed to linger.

You’re so good... you’re so good... you’re so good... Jin’er’s words echoed in his heart, rippling through his calm like a stone cast into still water, bringing him unexplainable joy.

How could such simple praise make him so content? This was a feeling he’d never known before.

But... it felt wonderful.

—

One day, Ying’er fell ill and stayed in bed. Jin’er wanted to keep her company, but Ying’er insisted she go practice martial arts and let her sleep.

So Jin’er went to the training ground alone.

Picking up an iron sword, she began stringing together the moves Chu Yifan had taught, her motions flowing like a sword dance, graceful yet powerful—far improved from when she first began.

A round of applause interrupted her. Jin’er stopped, turning to see Chu Yifan. She frowned.

“I knew Ying’er couldn’t have mastered this so quickly,” he said, approaching with a smile.

Jin’er glanced at him then looked away. “The young lady isn’t well today and won’t be coming.”

“Still, teaching you is the same,” he replied, stepping in front of her.

“It can wait a day. Please come another time, young master,” Jin’er said, turning to leave. But he caught her arm and gently pulled her back.

“I get the feeling you don’t like me. Why?” Chu Yifan asked, lifting her chin to force her to meet his eyes.

His resemblance to that other man, along with his overbearing manner, made Jin’er’s dislike surge. She abruptly slapped his hand away and stepped back, glaring at him.

Startled by her strong reaction, Chu Yifan frowned.

“Why?” he asked again after a moment.

“Dislike needs no reason, just as liking doesn’t,” Jin’er retorted.

“I don’t believe in baseless like or dislike,” Chu Yifan pressed.

Jin’er sighed, annoyed, then faced him. “Fine. It’s because you look like my enemy. Satisfied? If so, leave. I have nothing to say to you.”

Chu Yifan studied her, then let out a soft laugh. “If that’s the case, I’m truly unfortunate—made to bear the weight of your hatred for no reason at all...”

Jin’er ignored him and returned to her practice, pretending he wasn’t there.

Chu Yifan, completely disregarded, felt a frustration he’d never known before. After a long moment, he sighed and left in defeat.

—

Junzhou City, General’s Estate.

“My lord, all preparations are complete. We await your command,” the general reported, striding in.

Nangong Che played with his teacup, nodding slightly. His handsome face, touched with a faint smile and a glint of cunning in his eyes, exuded composure and confidence.

“After tracking them for so long, we finally have a lead. Even if we can’t wipe them out, we’ll make sure to cripple them!” His alluring eyes narrowed, a flash of killing intent.

“Yes, my lord! I’ll give the order at once!”

—

Late autumn midnight carried the chill of winter. The city of Junzhou lay quiet and peaceful.

Yet beneath this calm, the Liu Manor had already fallen into the shadow of death.

No screams, no clash of swords—only the faintest sound as a black figure drifted through the manor like a ghost, leaving only corpses in his wake. The trained guards fell without a fight, their resistance nothing but futile death throes.

He moved mercilessly through the estate, clearing out everyone in his path, systematically killing Master Liu, Madam Liu, the second young master, the eldest young lady, their maids and servants, until only the servants’ quarters remained—where Jin’er lived.

Madam Lin, half-awake, heard faint noises next door. She woke, listened again, but all was quiet. She was about to return to sleep when she felt the urge to relieve herself.

She got up, lit a lamp, and was about to carry it toward the door when she heard a strange noise. The door creaked open.

“Who’s there?!” A chill shot up Madam Lin’s spine. She set the lamp down, retreated behind the table, and called for Jin’er. “Jin’er! Wake up!”

At that moment, the black figure strode in, sword in hand, the blade dripping crimson blood.

“Who are you?! What do you want?!” Madam Lin stammered, body trembling. But before she finished, the shadow was upon her.

Jin’er, who had been sleeping deeply, woke at Madam Lin’s cry. As she sat up, rubbing her eyes, a black shadow flashed before her. Then she heard Madam Lin scream and collapse.

Jin’er’s eyes widened in shock at the scene before her. Before she could react, a sword aura shot toward her—so fast she couldn’t even move.

But just as she thought death was upon her, the sword aura stopped abruptly.

Jin’er frowned, pale-faced, and slowly looked up at the figure standing at her bedside.

“It’s you?” they both said in unison.

Jin’er stared at the face she thought she’d forgotten, yet recognized at a glance—cold, merciless. Her heart clenched painfully.

She stared at him, scenes from the past replaying in her mind, hatred bursting forth like bamboo after rain.

She slowly turned toward Madam Lin’s lifeless body, trembling uncontrollably, her breath growing labored.

Liu Ye frowned, lowering his sword. The surprise in his eyes vanished, replaced by icy indifference.

“Why?!” Jin’er turned on him, eyes blazing with fury. “Why are you here?! Haven’t you done me enough harm? Why must you appear again and kill the only family I had left?!”

Her whole body shook with grief, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Liu Ye’s grip on his sword tightened, but his face remained expressionless.

“What are you waiting for? Aren’t you here to kill me? Do it! Just do it! I wish you’d never given me those two buns back then—better I died of hunger in the street!” Jin’er sobbed hysterically, her pain and despair heart-wrenching.

At her last words, Liu Ye’s heart quivered, a strange feeling twisting in his chest.

The moment he’d seen her, he recognized her—the stubborn little girl who had once trailed after him. Perhaps he’d never truly forgotten her.

That stormy night, he’d worried about her and turned back, only to find her gone. Though uneasy, he’d convinced himself she would be alright and left.

Had something happened to her after all?

“Why are you here?”