Chapter 14: The Dust Settles
Ouyang Feng was summoned by the old matriarch, his heart was restless. The air itself seemed to grow heavy. After a long silence, the old lady finally spoke.
“Feng’er, what do you think of Captain Chen’s words—are they true or false?”
“Grandmother, I dare not deceive you. I was with Captain Chen and heard everything. It all seems beyond belief.”
“Indeed. That Ouyang Fu caused the tragic deaths of your father and Second Lady, and now seeks to sow discord with his words. Truly vile.”
Ouyang Feng bowed his head, silent, listening to the old lady’s words.
After a while, she spoke again: “Feng’er, this family has undergone great upheaval. As the eldest grandson, you must bear responsibility and take care of your younger siblings. Don’t let them suffer anymore.”
Tears welled in Ouyang Feng’s eyes. He choked out, “Grandmother must decide the affairs of the household. I shall serve you and do your bidding.”
The old matriarch sighed, “I have seen much, but now my strength is spent. White-haired sending off the black-haired, my heart and body are weary. Feng’er, don’t think too much. This family needs you.”
Ouyang Feng knelt, choked with emotion, unable to speak.
“Go,” said the old lady. “Arrange matters in the household.”
“Yes, grandmother. I take my leave.”
Leaving the courtyard, Ouyang Feng wiped his sorrowful expression, straightened his attire, and made his way to Ouyang Yu’s quarters.
He approached cautiously; a maid was nearby. Ouyang Yu had changed her clothes and tidied her hair, but she sat blankly, lost in thought.
Ouyang Feng came up behind her, and she didn’t notice.
“Xiao Yu, Xiao Yu,” he called softly.
Ouyang Yu turned, dazed, and on seeing Ouyang Feng, stood stunned for a moment, then suddenly embraced him and burst into tears.
Ouyang Feng gently patted her back.
It was a long while before her sobs subsided.
He comforted her, “Xiao Yu, don’t worry. The villain has been caught. No one will hurt you again.”
“Is it true?” she asked.
“Yes! Rest now. When you wake, everything will be different.”
Ouyang Yu nodded obediently, said nothing more, and lay quietly on her bed, soon falling asleep.
Ouyang Feng waited until she was sound asleep, took a long look at her, and left.
In her dreams, two lines of tears streaked Ouyang Yu’s cheeks.
Ouyang Feng went to Ouyang Yun’s residence.
Ouyang Yun, still pallid from illness, learned Ouyang Yu had returned and wanted to see her.
Ouyang Feng reassured him: Xiao Yu was resting; wait until later. He urged Yun to recuperate.
Ouyang Yun nodded in agreement.
Ouyang Feng then left to handle other matters in the household.
…
Meanwhile, A Feng sat in a teahouse, drinking tea.
A Feng was bold—he disguised himself as a young servant, luring others into his plan.
He knew that Chen Hong was clever, but his preoccupations had blinded him for a time.
When he saw the crowd drawn in by the commotion, A Feng lingered by the secret chamber’s door for a moment before leaving.
Now that the matter was settled, it was time for results.
This teahouse was not ordinary.
A Feng sent out a message and received a reply, arranging a rendezvous here.
The Assassin Hall was always discreet.
A Feng entered a private room, ordered a pot of Spring Jade tea, and quietly waited.
About half an hour passed before the door opened.
A young servant in coarse clothes entered, carrying tea snacks.
A Feng was wary—he hadn’t ordered these.
The newcomer said, “Sir, your tea snacks.” Then, in a low voice, “Ghost Mask, Water 37.”
Recognizing the code, A Feng replied, “Mystic Rank, Shadow Eye.”
The Assassin Hall was strictly hierarchical, ranking assassins by Heaven, Earth, Mystic, and Yellow levels, further divided by Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, Earth, ten Celestial Stems, twelve Earthly Branches, and numbers—thus forming their codenames.
Ghost Mask asked, “You sent a contact message. What for?”
A Feng replied, “About a mission—the bounty of three thousand taels for the assassination of the Ouyang family head, Ouyang Xun of Qingyang City. I wish to know who issued the task, who sought to frame me as the scapegoat and then kill me to cover their tracks.”
Ghost Mask frowned, “This is a strange matter. If true, someone is plotting against our Assassin Hall. Do you have any further information?”
A Feng pondered, then stared at Ghost Mask: “Since I arrived here, I have been watched. I didn’t realize it at first, but two nights ago I encountered them. After a fierce fight, I barely survived, and learned I’d been exposed. I don’t know who leaked the information.”
Ghost Mask’s expression grew grave, “If so, there has been a leak—likely from within. This must be reported. If there’s any news, I’ll notify you immediately.”
A Feng relaxed a little. “Thank you.”
Ghost Mask rose and left. A Feng continued sipping tea, untouched by the snacks.
One must always be wary outside. A Feng had made this instinctual.
With the matter addressed, he waited for results.
A Feng mused that Chen Hong must still be dealing with matters at Ouyang Mansion, giving him a chance to prepare.
…
Chen Hong returned to the prefecture office, reported the progress of the Ouyang Mansion case, and detailed some internal matters.
The prefect said, “Chen, now that Ouyang Fu is dead and the Ouyang family wishes to avoid further trouble, let’s leave it at that.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
The prefect continued, “By the way, here are one thousand taels sent by the Ouyang Mansion. Use it as you see fit—ensure your men keep their mouths shut.”
Chen Hong replied, “Since it’s from the Ouyang family, I defer to your judgment, Your Excellency.”
“No matter,” the prefect said. “I have my own plans. Take it.”
Seeing the prefect’s confident demeanor, Chen Hong understood—the Ouyang Mansion had already made arrangements; the thousand taels were to seal his lips.
He couldn’t help but smile bitterly. Ouyang Fu had predicted this. Now, no one would pursue the matter further.
As for the true final facts, no one cared anymore.
With a culprit found, why bother with more trouble? It would only invite complications.
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
Leaving the office, Chen Hong distributed the money among his men, instructing them not to gossip, lest they be singled out and punished.
All promised compliance.
Returning home, Chen Hong grew silent.
There were still loose ends—like A Feng and Boss Jin of the sheep soup shop. The assassins’ involvement was unresolved.
Now, with Ouyang Fu dead, it seemed everything was over.
Yet, as a public official, eradicating evil was his highest aim.
He thought of A Feng’s elusive nature—Ouyang Fu had tried to outwit him, only for his plot to be exposed.
Now, with orders from the prefect, there was no point in pursuing further.
It was difficult.
Amid confusion, Chen Hong drifted into sleep.
…
The next day, the prefecture office issued a notice: the murder case at Ouyang Mansion was solved—Ouyang Fu had hired killers for revenge, the matter glossed over.
News spread quickly through the city.
The Ouyang Mansion held funerals and carried on as usual.
It was also announced that Ouyang Feng would succeed as head of the family; everything seemed unchanged, as if it happened naturally.
Most people didn’t know the true reasons. Gossip circulated, becoming fodder for idle chatter, but the Ouyang family’s reputation remained largely unaffected.
A Feng, sitting in the teahouse, heard the news as well.
Ghost Mask, seated opposite, said, “Yesterday I sent a message to headquarters. Based on what we found, the person who issued the mission was indeed Ouyang Fu. Now that he’s dead, the task is canceled. The reward is yours.”
A Feng nodded, expressionless. “Who leaked my information?”
Ghost Mask replied, “It was someone under the Metal division, for five thousand taels. Headquarters has already sent someone to execute him. Any who leak Assassin Hall secrets must die.”
A Feng said nothing more.
Ghost Mask, seeing the matter settled, turned and left.
A Feng paid little mind to his departure, staring out the window at the bustling street, lost in thought.
He felt there was one last thing to do. Once done, he could leave.
…
Two nights later, a shadow flickered in the darkness. Seeing no one around, it silently vaulted the wall and slipped into the mansion.
The shadow was A Feng. Concealing himself, he headed directly for Ouyang Yu’s quarters.
It was the dead of night; the courtyard was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
A Feng entered the room, placed a dagger, sleeping powder, and poison on the table, left a note, and slipped away.
…
The next morning, Ouyang Yu woke. She had slept poorly for days, but last night’s rest was unusually deep.
She rose and went to the table for some water, but seeing the objects, she was startled.
She opened the note, which read: “If you wish for revenge, wait outside Ouyang Ping’s residence at midnight.”
Ouyang Yu’s heart raced—fear mingled with excitement.
For days, she’d been plagued by nightmares of Ouyang Ping’s face, unable to shake the terror and shame, shedding secret tears.
She had asked her brother Ouyang Feng how to deal with Ouyang Ping, but received only vague answers, with no resolution.
Now, did she have an opportunity?
Ouyang Yu didn’t want to miss it—even if he were a monster, she wouldn’t flinch.
She waited impatiently for nightfall, excused herself early, and sent her maids to rest.
As midnight approached, Ouyang Yu rose quietly, took a lantern, and made her way, winding through the paths, to Ouyang Fu’s former villa.
She waited a long time until a voice suddenly spoke: “Do you want revenge?”
Ouyang Yu shuddered and turned. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
“Come with me.”
The journey was silent. They reached Ouyang Ping’s quarters—inside came the faint sound of snoring.
“Open the door.”
Ouyang Yu hesitated, but obeyed out of habit.
Her trembling hands touched the door; with a creak, it opened.
They entered.
A Feng said, “No need to worry. He’s under the influence of sleeping smoke. Take the things I left for you.”
Ouyang Yu took the dagger and the two powders.
A Feng asked, “How do you wish to take your revenge?”
Ouyang Yu was silent, then suddenly picked up the dagger, her gaze firm.
A Feng led her step by step to the bedside; she could hear the man’s steady breathing.
“Do it. Plunge the dagger into the heart—it’s a sure kill.”
Ouyang Yu trembled, the dagger quivering in her hand.
She glanced at the black-clad man beside her—his eyes cold, emotionless.
Suddenly, Ouyang Ping began to stir. Startled, Ouyang Yu stabbed wildly, striking him in the abdomen.
Ouyang Ping woke in agony, saw the black-clad figure and Ouyang Yu, and was terrified.
He let out a howl.
Ouyang Yu yanked out the blade, her face contorted, stabbing again—the screams grew louder.
After several strikes, Ouyang Ping’s cries faded. Ouyang Yu, lost in madness, kept stabbing.
A Feng struck her unconscious, tidied the scene, cleaned Ouyang Yu up, and returned her to her quarters.
A Feng slipped away.
…
The next morning, Ouyang Yu awoke, head muddled.
A maid rushed in: “Miss, miss, news from the mansion—Ouyang Ping has been killed, horribly so!”
Ouyang Yu stared in shock, finally realizing last night’s events were real.
“Who was the murderer? Any suspects?”
“No. Captain Chen came by, said he’d investigate, but there’s no news. The family says it was revenge for the former steward, so his son was killed.”
Ouyang Yu listened, silent, then told the maid to fetch water for her morning routine, as usual.
…
Days passed, and news of Ouyang Ping’s death gradually faded, until no one spoke of it.
Ouyang Yu no longer worried; her mind grew stronger.
After some discreet inquiries, she learned of the Assassin Hall, and through many twists and turns, began learning martial arts and assassination skills.
A few years later, Qingyang City gained a night assassin known for punishing faithless men on behalf of women—her name was Night Kite.
New stories unfolded for each.
The End.