The young lady of this family, about fifteen or sixteen years old, was dressed in gold and silver like the rest of her family, with large, bright eyes. She called the shop assistant over and ordered another pot of wine.
It was surprising how much these country folk could drink. The shop assistant glanced at the table—almost everyone had a wine pot beside them. Except for two children, a boy and a girl around ten years old, even the elderly, gray-haired, dim-sighted woman had one.
When the shop assistant brought the wine, the young lady didn’t keep it for herself. Instead, she handed it to the eager boy.
"When traveling, it’s not just food and clothing that shouldn’t make others look down on you; one must also be polite," the young lady said solemnly in a low voice. "This is what Aunt taught us. Go on, offer them the wine and ask for some information."
The boy happily took the wine, pulled the girl along, and ran to the neighboring table.
"Uncles," he called out, offering the wine, "please have a drink."
The group of travel-worn merchants, who had been chatting idly about all sorts of things, were abruptly interrupted. Seeing the two children and the wine, they were taken aback.
"Why are you treating us to wine?" one merchant asked, glancing toward the other table.
They had noticed this family as soon as they entered—it was impossible not to, with everyone glittering in gold.
"My name is Xiao Tu," the boy said confidently. "You’re from the capital, right? I overheard you talking about things in the capital, and it sounded really interesting. I didn’t get to hear enough. Could you tell me more?"
So that was it. The merchants chuckled. Children always loved hearing about exciting things from the outside world, especially from the capital.
One merchant said, "There hasn’t been much news lately, except for the Third Prince’s literary gathering. Or rather, a group of young ladies forcefully barged into the Third Prince’s literary gathering."
Xiao Tu immediately nodded. "Let’s hear about that." He patted the little girl beside him on the head. "This is my sister, Qingting. Let her listen too, so she can learn what the girls in the capital are up to."
Qingting, who wasn’t even as tall as the table, stared at the merchants with wide, shining eyes and nodded vigorously.
Who could refuse such polite children from a wealthy family? The merchants laughed and began telling stories, only stopping when the wine and food were finished and they had to continue their journey.
Xiao Tu, thoroughly satisfied, thanked the merchants and led his sister back.
"Sister Xiao-Man, you were completely wrong," he said excitedly.
Xiao Man snorted, focused on gnawing a pig’s trotter, and mumbled, "What did I get wrong?"
"You said Chu Zhao was all bark and no bite," Xiao Tu replied. "That once she left the Border Commandery and came to the capital, she’d be nothing and would probably hide at home, too scared to go out. But now everyone’s talking about Chu Zhao."
"Chu Zhao dares to fight," Qingting added from the side.
Xiao Tu continued, "As soon as she arrived in the capital, she beat up a young lady, then stood outside the girl’s house shouting insults. After that, she even dared to fight the Third Prince and brawled with scholars. And in the end, she actually won! The Third Prince was so afraid of her that he invited her to his literary gathering to keep fighting."
He spoke with great enthusiasm, as he admired people who could fight. Sister Xiao-Man always said that Chu Zhao only knew how to eat, drink, and have fun, pretending to be a refined lady from a noble family.
Do you know what it means to pretend to be a refined lady? It means smiling apologetically when others insult you, crying when others hit you, never riding a horse no matter how urgent the journey—only traveling by carriage, holding only needles and thread instead of blades, spears, or bows, and having just one thing on your mind: marrying some man, then bearing children and raising a family. In the end, all that’s left is the reputation of a refined lady, and no one even remembers her real name.This is so dull. He wasn't the least bit interested in this Chu Zhao.
But before they even reached the capital, he kept hearing Chu Zhao's name. Whenever someone mentioned Chu Zhao, others would chime in enthusiastically, as if everyone knew her.
Back in the Border Commandery, not so many people had known Chu Zhao.
Xiao Man frowned, equally puzzled. Logically, it didn't make sense. Chu Zhao might have relied on her father's influence in the Border Commandery, but how dare she pick a fight with a prince after arriving in the capital?
"Of course, look who gave birth to her," an old woman chuckled nearby. "Your aunt has always been like this—quiet and gentle since childhood, but when she strikes, she's fiercer than anyone."
Xiao Man curled her lip. "How can she compare to Aunt?" She tossed aside the pig's trotter. "Alright, let's hurry and see for ourselves what's really going on."
The group settled their bill, packed their belongings, and set off. Xiao Tu rushed to the front, eager to witness Chu Zhao's fight.
"If we're late, it'll be over, right?" he urged, "Sister Xiao Man, ride faster!"
Xiao Man was seated behind him.
She reached out and pressed his head, turning it forward. "I only allowed you to ride with me. If you keep giving orders, you can go sit in the carriage."
Xiao Tu muttered, "Sister Chu Zhao definitely isn't as fierce as you."
Xiao Man snorted. "Calling her 'sister' already? You can stay in the capital then; no need to come back."
Though curious about Sister Chu Zhao, Xiao Tu couldn't bear the thought of leaving home and family. He obediently smiled apologetically at Xiao Man. "Good sister, I was wrong. When we get back, I'll help you beat up Third Brother."
The siblings bickered, but when they left the smooth main road and entered a mountain gorge, their banter ceased as they looked ahead.
A group of about seventeen or eighteen men stood beneath the steep cliffs. Some crouched by the roadside, others perched on the precipice, and one sat astride a horse blocking the center of the path, brandishing a blade and carrying a spear—each looking fierce and menacing.
"Finally, we've caught up with you," the leader shouted viciously, pointing his sword at the convoy of carts, horses, and people of all ages.
These country bumpkins even had silver bells adorning their carts, gleaming so brightly in the valley it was blinding. They might as well have announced they were prime targets.
The bandits had been eyeing this group since they entered the city, growing more tempted the longer they watched. They hastily gathered their men, worried other outlaws might strike first.
Such a rare, fat sheep was a stroke of heavenly luck.
"Drop everything you have—not even the clothes on your backs!" the leader snarled with a grim laugh. "Or you won't leave with your lives."
The surrounding bandits howled bizarrely, unafraid of their prey turning to flee—escape? In this valley, there was no way out.
The country folk grew restless, emitting various sounds—men, women, old, and young—but instead of cries, they too made strange noises?
They urged their horses forward, not to flee, but to charge—
Eh?
The bandits froze. Were they trying to break through? With what? Those seven or eight scrawny servants? The teenage girl? The ten-year-old child? Or the elderly couple inside the carriage?
The carriage sped forward, its curtain flying open. The old woman inside had disheveled, graying hair, looking wretched and pitiful. But suddenly, she raised her hand—
What was that? The bandit leader widened his eyes, wondering if his old eyes were deceiving him. Was that an iron flute?Amidst the strange cries, he seemed to hear the metallic chime of an iron flute pressed to the old woman’s lips, followed by a dart shooting out from it—
How could it be a dart? It must be fake!
Closer and closer it came—
"It’s real!"
These were the bandit leader’s last words in this world. With that, he was flung into the air, crashed to the ground, and was promptly trampled by horse hooves.
Following the dart, the motley crew of old and young surged into the bandits’ midst. From who-knows-where, they drew blades, spears, swords, and halberds, charging into the fray like harvesters in a melon patch—swift and merciless.
"When traveling, always dress and eat your best—not just to avoid being looked down upon, but also to lure in the fat sheep—"
"These Central Plains bandits are pathetic. We’ve been flaunting ourselves all this way, and only a handful have shown up."
"Xiao Man-jie, these bandits seem really poor."
"Poor or not, we rob them! Don’t forget our rule: thieves never leave empty-handed!"
"You bandits—drop everything! Not even the clothes on your backs are allowed to stay. And your lives—they’re not allowed to stay either."
In the twilight valley, the sounds of clashing and screams echoed incessantly.
……
……
Night shrouded the bloodshed, which remained undiscovered until dawn.
When local officials arrived, they found over a dozen corpses—stripped completely bare, neatly arranged by the roadside.
Aside from the bodies, bloodstains, scattered limbs, and traces of carts and horses, nothing else remained.
Well, not entirely nothing.
An officer picked up a silk flower from the hair near one corpse’s temple.
"How bizarre."
The official studied the naked dead—a sight he’d never seen before—but the face was familiar. It was still posted on the city gates as a wanted fugitive.
This was the bandit leader who had plagued the region for years.
"Looks like these bandits were robbed themselves?"
The official took the silk flower and, with his experienced eye, recognized it at once as a kapok blossom.
"Since when did these thieves pick up the habit of wearing flowers?"
Strange things happen every year, but this year seems especially peculiar.
First, young women in the capital competing with men, and now male bandits dying with flowers in their hair.
OpenNovel