“How did you feel just now?” An Jiu asked again.
Mo Sigui stared at An Jiu suspiciously but remembered her meridians were destroyed, making it unlikely she could shoot Jingxian arrows. Moreover, Jingxian’s power was far greater than what he had just experienced. Dismissing his momentary discomfort, he extended his hand. “The antidote is ready. Give me the fan.”
An Jiu had intended to return it, but she felt slightly annoyed by his arrogant attitude. “Let’s see if you can save lives first.”
Mo Sigui grunted twice, no longer demanding the fan. He turned and called for Ling Gu to bring some food. After filling his stomach, he slung the medicine box over his shoulder and ambled down the mountain alone.
Ling Gu watched him leave, thinking he still seemed like a big child. She felt worried but remembered he had been wandering alone for many years, making her concern unnecessary.
After delivering food to Lou Xiaowu, Ling Gu went to An Jiu’s room.
“Miss Mei, my mistress says if you’re bored, this servant can take you to her room,” Ling Gu explained, keeping her head down. “The mistress enjoys tinkering with mechanisms. Knowing you’re skilled in archery, she invites you to select some bows to your liking.”
The psychic Jingxian was just one of the many products Elder Zhi had experimented with while pursuing the true Jingxian. Though not the real thing, it had limited destructive power. The blue light crossbow, comparable to firearms, gave An Jiu a new understanding of this world’s weapons and reignited her enthusiasm for them.
“Alright,” An Jiu replied straightforwardly, acting on her thoughts without hesitation.
During the previous trial, An Jiu had seen Lou Xiaowu’s rope crossbow and light crossbow, aware of her mechanical talent. However, upon entering her room, An Jiu was still surprised.
Lou Xiaowu’s room was huge, with the inner chamber occupying only one-tenth of the space. The vast outer room contained just a long table and a few stools. Several wall-mounted shelves held various devices, including bows and crossbows, filling the floor, table, and walls.
An Jiu’s gaze was drawn to a crossbow on the table, very similar in appearance to the blue light crossbow used by enemies during the trial.
She approached to examine it closely. Seeing her interest, Ling Gu explained, “This is something the mistress made recently. She said it was faulty.”
An Jiu loaded an arrow, walked to the doorway, and aimed at a tree in the courtyard. She pulled the trigger, and with a swish, the arrow shot out trailing a dazzling blue light. It embedded itself firmly in the tree trunk, sending wood chips flying.
Though similar in form, its destructive power was much lower than the blue light crossbow. However, the fact that Lou Xiaowu could create such a device in a short time after just seeing it once demonstrated her exceptional mechanical talent.
Sensing An Jiu’s appreciation, Ling Gu, thinking of her mistress’s apparent fondness for interacting with the cold Mei Shisi, tried to bridge the gap. “The mistress was born prematurely. Her health is poor, so she can only practice martial arts for two hours a day. That’s why she enjoys tinkering with these things.”
An Jiu responded with a simple “Mm” and returned inside. She sat at the table and began manipulating the crossbow.
The principles of crossbows and guns were similar. An Jiu could disassemble and reassemble a sniper rifle with her eyes closed, so she naturally understood its structure intimately.
Ling Gu noticed that An Jiu’s intense focus on the crossbow mechanism resembled Lou Xiaowu’s, unconsciously narrowing the perceived distance between them. She began sharing more stories about Lou Xiaowu.
Pleased to have something to occupy her time, An Jiu enjoyed the solitude, immersing herself in her work without acknowledging Ling Gu.
After a while, Ling Gu found it uninteresting to continue talking and left An Jiu to her tinkering.
Snow covered the rocky mountains, making the area colder than elsewhere due to the presence of black ice.
With Mo Sigui away and both Lou Mingyue and An Jiu being quiet individuals, the entire Lou estate fell silent. If not for Ling Gu’s daily food preparations, it would hardly seem inhabited.
Mo Sigui’s antidote helped alleviate the plague near Bianjing. The court dispatched troops to burn infected corpses, finally containing the massive crisis before the New Year.
Ten days later, two days before New Year’s Eve, Mu Qianshan arrived at Mei Manor on orders to escort Mei Jiu and Mo Sigui back to Meihua Village.
Elder Zhi’s detainment by the court for investigation greatly hurt the Konghejun family’s feelings. The handling of this matter demonstrated the emperor’s distrust of the Konghejun family, further straining the already tenuous relationship between ruler and subject.
Regarding the Lou family’s misfortune, although the Konghejun eventually came to their aid, the hesitation in their response was disheartening.
In this vast web of conspiracy, the enemy had achieved a great victory.
The Mei family had been forced to a point where they had to make a decision.
At Meihua Village, by the misty lakeside, several buildings were hidden behind a plum garden. They were situated at the bottom of a gourd-shaped valley. A pagoda-style book tower bore a plaque reading “Loyal, Righteous, and Dutiful.”
Mei Zhengyan, the Mei family patriarch, stood with his hands behind his back, frowning at the characters on the plaque.
A figure in white silently appeared nearby, standing quietly for a long while.
“Zhengjing, where should the Mei family go from here?” Mei Zhengyan sighed deeply.
The white-robed figure stirred. Mei Zhengjing stepped through the snow to his side. “Third Brother, you know I don’t want to deal with these troublesome matters.”
“You should restrain that attitude of yours!” Mei Zhengyan looked at him with disappointment, his tone severe. “Even though the clan has designated you as a future successor, I’ve never forced you. Now that Tingjun is gone, shouldn’t you take up the responsibility voluntarily?”
If Mei Zhengjing hadn’t been so carefree and unwilling to manage family affairs, the clan wouldn’t have decided to send Mei Tingjun out for this trial! Mei Zhengyan couldn’t help feeling resentful. Being the Mei family patriarch didn’t require risking one’s life, but maintaining the clan’s precarious relationship with the court was more challenging than facing mortal danger. This should have been Mei Zhengjing’s duty, yet he had to force his son to do it.
Mei Zhengyan’s mood sank. “It might be for the best that he perished this time. At least he won’t have to bear the burden of the entire family. He wasn’t cut out for leadership. But you!”
Thinking of Mei Zhengjing reignited his anger. “You were born with all the right qualities, yet you’re unwilling to contribute to the family! Will you just watch as the Mei clan falls?”
“Third Brother,” Mei Zhengjing finally addressed the issue directly. “In my youth, I dreamed of joining the Konghejun’s Shadow, and I wanted to lead the Mei family in serving the court. I still thought that way just a few years ago.”
As one of the candidates for the family head, he inevitably learned about many things. However, the more he understood, the more he realized how far reality was from his imagination: the precarious relationship between the Konghejun family and the court; how the Konghejun, originally meant to be a sharp blade protecting the Great Song, had become a butcher’s knife in the emperor’s hands to eliminate dissent; the court’s weakness in foreign relations…
These brutal facts had shattered Mei Zhengjing’s long-held dreams.
“Now the Mei family is in trouble. If the family wants to leave the Konghejun, as a member of the Mei clan, I would naturally do my utmost to help. But…” Mei Zhengjing stared at the “Loyal, Righteous, and Dutful” plaque, his tone resolute, “To serve such an emperor and court is impossible!”
Mei Zhengyan had considered this too, but, “If the Mei family leaves the Konghejun, we’ll inevitably have to sacrifice all those who have already become Konghejun Shadows.”
“Third Brother is being too soft-hearted!” Mei Zhengjing said. “A gentleman discards flaws to nurture talent; a brave man cuts off his arm to preserve his life. When a viper coils around your hand, why not make a decisive cut?”
Mei Zhengyan turned to look at him, seeing Mei Zhengjing standing tall in his white robes, almost blending with the snow. Behind his rippling peach blossom eyes lay a coldness.
“I’ve misjudged you,” Mei Zhengyan said, unsure of his feelings. He spoke slowly, “You care so much for Big Brother; I always thought you were as sentimental as Elder Qi. I never imagined you’d be so much like Elder Zhi at your core. The wisest are often the least sentimental.”
Mei Zhengjing raised an eyebrow. “I don’t mind what Third Brother says about me. But I must speak up for Elder Zhi. If he were truly unsentimental, would he have ruined his prospects just for the Mei family? With his talents, he could have become a grand councilor. If he were unsentimental, could he have sacrificed decades of his life for the Mei family?”
These rhetorical questions left Mei Zhengyan speechless. He had forgotten all of this, seeing only Elder Zhi’s decisive and ruthless handling of matters.
“Great wisdom brings great love. If one always clings to minor details, how can great things be accomplished?” Mei Zhengjing didn’t dwell on this issue further. He took out a brocade bag from his robes and tossed it to Mei Zhengyan. “You’d better deal with the internal traitors when you have time!”
Mei Zhengyan opened the bag and took out three damaged letters. They had been mostly burned, but Mei Zhengjing had pieced them together, allowing the general content to be discerned. They were all letters from the Konghejun Yulin Commander to someone, including orders to spy on Mei’s family secrets.