The Wife of a Loyal Servant - Chapter 49

Hearing this, Chu Liang swallowed the words of persuasion he had been about to speak.

So be it. Just as His Highness had said, this was a hurdle Cheng Shaotang would have to face sooner or later. If that was the case, what difference did it make whether it came earlier or later?

Still, Chu Liang couldn’t quite put his mind at ease. Although he hadn’t known Cheng Shaotang for long, he had some understanding of his temperament and character. After turning it over in his mind, he summoned his trusted subordinate, Wan Ping, and gave him a few instructions in a low, steady voice.

Wan Ping was somewhat surprised, but he didn’t ask any questions and promptly accepted the order before leaving.

Ling Yu, for her part, had not expected that in this life, Tang Jinyuan would actually marry a maid from Prince Qi’s mansion. She couldn’t clearly remember whom he had married in her previous life, but it certainly hadn’t been Ming Ju.

It was also from Ming Ju that she learned that Empress Liu of her previous life was, in this life as well, serving as a concubine to Prince Qi. Of course, at this time, she had yet to return to her original surname and was using the name Ying Liu, bestowed upon her by the master of Prince Qi’s mansion.

Ling Yu couldn’t help but sigh. Although many people and events had already gone awry in this life, the bond between Prince Qi and Ying Liu was something that simply could not be cut off.

After more back-and-forth between them, she also heard quite a bit about the inner household of Prince Qi’s mansion from Ming Ju.

For instance, the relationship between Prince Qi and Princess Qi was just as strained as it had been in her previous life; and for instance, Ying Liu had recently been punished by Princess Qi, among other such matters.

After hearing this, Ling Yu couldn’t help but sigh.

She truly couldn’t understand what Princess Qi was thinking. Clearly, she was Prince Qi’s original, legitimate wife, yet in her previous life, she not only failed to become Empress, but she also couldn’t even enter the imperial palace, remaining confined to a separate residence outside the palace under the title of Princess Qi until her death.

Ling Yu had never had any contact with Princess Qi and didn’t know her temperament, but from the standpoint of being a principal wife herself, she did feel a measure of sympathy for her.

Because she got along quite well with Ming Ju and appreciated her talkative, open-hearted nature, she readily agreed when Cheng Shaotang asked her to help look after the child Ming Ju was carrying.

What she hadn’t expected was that after only two days, Cheng Shaotang would once again be assigned a task that required him to go out. Even though she was somewhat used to this by now, she still couldn’t help but complain.

“You’ve only been back for two days, and you’re already leaving again. There are so many people in the residence—why does it have to be you? How long will you be gone this time? If it’s another month or two, Xiao Shitou might not even remember you anymore.”

Cheng Shaotang hadn’t expected another assignment to be arranged so quickly either, but with the Crown Prince’s order given, he had no choice but to comply. Still, he felt apologetic toward his wife and child, and hearing Ling Yu’s complaints only deepened his sense of guilt.

“When I return from this trip, I’ll ask His Highness for a few days’ leave. I won’t go anywhere and will stay at home with you and the child. How does that sound?”

“What’s so good about that! Staying home every day without going anywhere would drive a person mad from boredom!” Ling Yu shot him an annoyed look.

Cheng Shaotang was momentarily at a loss, then laughed and said patiently, “Then wherever you want to go, I’ll go with you—no objections at all. That should be fine, right?”

“That’s more like it.” Ling Yu was finally satisfied.

In truth, she knew that once an order had been given, there was no room to refuse it. She was simply in a foul mood, and if she didn’t grumble a little, it just wouldn’t sit right with her.

“Oh, and Brother Dachun will be setting off back to Qinghe County in a couple of days. Is there anything you want him to pass along to Mother and Shaoan?” she asked, suddenly remembering.

“Brother Dachun is leaving already? Why not stay a few more days?” Cheng Shaotang said, somewhat surprised.

“He’s been away from home for quite a while now. Father and Mother must be worried sick. Besides, the shop will need all its goods prepared before it opens,” Ling Yu replied casually. After a moment’s thought, she stopped packing his things, turned to him, and asked, “I was wondering, could we bring Mother here? Xiao Shitou asked about Grandma just yesterday.”

Cheng Shaotang shook his head. “If Mother were willing to come, that would naturally be better, but I’m afraid she wouldn’t agree. After all, Shaoan is still at home. How could she possibly feel at ease leaving him behind?”

Ling Yu considered it and found it reasonable. Though her mother-in-law missed her grandson, she would surely still be worried about her second son, who had lost his wife. Knowing that the three of them were safe and sound, she would likely feel reassured enough to remain at home.

“The bag of silver I brought back last time, have Brother Dachun take it back to Mother. And earlier, while I was at the manor, I asked Brother Chu to help find some nourishing tonics. They’re quite effective. Have those taken back as well: one set for Father and Mother-in-law, and one for Mother. Wan Ping will deliver them shortly,” Cheng Shaotang added.

“Wan Ping?” Ling Yu echoed, surprised by the unfamiliar name.

“Yes. He’s one of Brother Chu’s most capable men. This time, he’ll be going with me.”

Ling Yu didn’t know Wan Ping, but hearing that he was Chu Liang’s most trusted aide put her somewhat at ease. “Be careful on the road. The mission may be important, but you must remember, nothing in this world matters more than your life.”

“Don’t worry.” How could Cheng Shaotang not know she was concerned for him?

In truth, he himself harbored some misgivings about this assignment. Since entering the Crown Prince’s residence, he had never once been tasked with a manhunt like this; this was the first time. Chu Liang sending his most trusted subordinate along likely meant he, too, was uneasy.

Since following the Crown Prince, Cheng Shaotang’s hands had long been stained with the blood of many. Of some, he did not even know what crimes they had committed. If they were guilty at all, or perhaps innocent.

No one would ever tell him these things, nor would anyone permit him to question them.

Obedience—when one was a subordinate, there was nothing to do but obey.

The day after Cheng Shaotang departed, Ling Dachun was also preparing to leave. Ling Yu loaded the various items she wanted him to take back onto the carriage, once again launching into a long round of instructions.

Ling Dachun listened to her rambling with helpless resignation. Seizing the moment when she paused to catch her breath, he hurriedly said, “Alright, alright, I’ve taken it all in. I’ll be sure to convey both you and your husband’s intentions. You can put your mind completely at ease.”

Ling Yu knew she had indeed said too much, but she couldn’t help it. She had left in such a rush, and there were so many unfinished matters that she was eager to take advantage of this chance and have Ling Dachun carry them back one by one.

“And the house at the county yamen, though Lord Guo and Constable Cui won’t say anything, we should still pack up our belongings as soon as possible. At the very least, we ought to vacate the place for them, so that when a new constable arrives, he won’t be left without anywhere to live.”

“Sister Yu, if you keep dragging things out, it’ll be dark before long—and he’ll still be on the road trying to find a place to stay!” Yang Suwen said, covering her mouth as she laughed softly.

Ling Yu shot her an annoyed glare, then deliberately put on an air of impatience, took her son by the hand, and headed back inside, leaving them some space alone.

“Fine, then. I won’t stay here making myself a nuisance…”

“What nonsense are you talking about!” Yang Suwen stamped her foot in embarrassment and irritation. She was just about to turn and chase after her when Ling Dachun grabbed hold of her.

“Let’s talk for a moment—just a couple of words. Once I go back this time, I don’t know when I’ll be able to come again.”

Yang Suwen stopped struggling. With her head lowered, she spoke in a mosquito-soft voice. “What do you want to say?”

“After I return, I’ll make my feelings clear to my parents. And in the future, I’ll treat you the way Shaotang treats Xiao Yu—I won’t stand in the way of anything you want to do,” Ling Dachun murmured quietly.

Yang Suwen’s face flushed crimson. She twisted about shyly and let out a soft “Mm,” taking it as her reply.

Only then did Ling Dachun truly let out a breath of relief. Though that single “mm” was barely audible, it was enough to show her stance, giving him a much-needed sense of reassurance and confirming that this was not merely his own one-sided wishful thinking.

Inside the house, Ling Yu was holding Little Shitou and reciting the Three Character Classic to him. When she saw Yang Suwen walk in with her cheeks glowing red, she was about to tease her—then thought better of it and let it go.

The girl’s face was already red to that extent. If she poked at her again, she’d probably start steaming on the spot.

Ah, well—she’d count it as doing a good deed for the day.

Yet when Yang Suwen returned to her own room, she suddenly came to a realization.

Wait—something’s not right! Why did he say that after going back this time, he didn’t know when he’d be able to come again? When Liufang Hall opens in the capital, he’ll definitely have to show up!

“Liar… again,” she muttered, feeling a little shy, a little annoyed, and more than a little inexplicably sweet.

With Cheng Shaotang away from home and Ling Dachun already having set out on his journey back, Ling Yu found it inconvenient to go out frequently. Most days, she stayed at home—either telling stories to her son or smiling as she watched the little fellow throw his punches with an almost convincing seriousness.

As for Yang Suwen, she had buried herself in formulating new varieties of scented balm.

This, too, was Ling Yu’s intention. Although Liufang Hall already had Jade Complexion Cream, most of the shop’s other best-selling items were rouge and powders supplied by the Ye household of Changluo. While the two parties were currently in a cooperative partnership, Ling Yu had always believed it unwise to rely too heavily on others. Her own shop needed more product lines, both to give customers greater choice and to provide herself with an added layer of security.

After all, the world was never short of copycats, especially clever ones. Even if they couldn’t fully crack the formula for Jade Complexion Cream, figuring out a few key aspects would be more than enough.

In her previous life, once Jade Complexion Cream became a runaway success, similar balms, nearly identical in scent and color, began appearing across the country. Though they lacked their effects, they were still appealing enough to draw customers in.

She couldn’t stop imitating, but she could push herself to do better, better still, until her work reached a height others could only admire from afar, yet never truly attain.

Meanwhile, after accepting his assignment, Cheng Shaotang led Wan Ping and a dozen or so subordinates along the scouted route in relentless pursuit. At last, in a small town far from the capital, they discovered traces of their target, Cai Wenxiang.

“That wretch really is a slippery one, mixing truth and falsehood just to toy with us, making us run who knows how many pointless detours for nothing,” Wan Ping spat, cursing under his breath.

“But things are better now. We’ve finally found that old bastard. Once we take his head, we can hurry back and report in. Might even make it in time for the excitement at the residence,” a tall, lanky subordinate added, likewise keeping his voice low.

“Commander, now that we’ve located him, should we strike now, or wait until nightfall?” Wan Ping asked quietly, turning to the silent Cheng Shaotang.

“There are too many inconveniences at the moment. We’ll act after nightfall,” Cheng Shaotang replied in a deep voice.

“That works as well.” Wan Ping agreed. After all, a dark and windy night was best suited for killing.

Cheng Shaotang appeared utterly focused on the small residence not far away, yet in truth, his thoughts were in some disarray.

He had already noticed that there were roughly a dozen people inside. Judging by their ages and manner of dress, aside from a few servants, most were Cai Wenxiang’s family members. This mission was unlike any he had undertaken before.

This time, among those he would be facing were frail women and elderly matrons.

Was he truly expected to strike at people like them?

He knew full well that he could not. Then, upon further thought, wasn’t the objective this time Cai Wenxiang himself?

Once Cai Wenxiang was killed, the task would be complete. As for the others, they could be spared.

Thinking this through, he steadied himself once more.

As night fell, everyone involuntarily held their breath, eyes fixed on the house’s every movement. One by one, the lights inside went out. Wan Ping turned his head toward Cheng Shaotang, seemingly waiting for his command.

Cheng Shaotang’s gaze darkened, a faint trace of hesitation flickering within it, yet in the end, he issued the order in a low voice: “Move.”

The words had barely fallen when more than ten masked figures dressed in black, including Cheng Shaotang himself, shot out in succession from the grass where they lay in ambush, like arrows released from the bow, racing toward the residence that had long since fallen silent.

Before long, the thud of heavy bodies hitting the ground and sudden screams rang out, followed immediately by the clash of weapons, shattering the stillness of the night.

Cheng Shaotang raised his sword to deflect a thrust aimed at his chest, then slashed backhandedly at his opponent’s throat. The man let out a muffled groan and collapsed, dead on the spot.

“I’ll kill you all—I’ll kill you all!” a young man roared in grief and fury at the sight, swinging a heavy blade as he hacked toward them. One strike narrowly swept past Cheng Shaotang’s left shoulder.

Though it was nothing more than wild, unstructured slashing, perhaps his sheer ferocity was enough to daunt them. For a moment, no one could subdue him.

Elsewhere, more people inside the house fell and lost their lives, and all at once the night filled with the angry shouts of men and the terrified cries of women.

Cheng Shaotang stabbed to death another man who had tried to ambush him from behind. The young man who had been wildly hacking with his blade earlier was also run through the chest, collapsing into a pool of blood and twitching faintly. Wan Ping lunged forward and drove his sword into the man’s chest again. The man let out a muffled groan and finally went still.

Cheng Shaotang swung his longsword numbly, the black cloth covering his face splashed with spurting blood, quickly obscured by it.

“Beasts! You beasts! I’ll bite you to death!” Suddenly, someone burst out from behind a door in fury, wrapping his arms around Cheng Shaotang’s waist and sinking his teeth into him.

Without thinking, Cheng Shaotang slammed his elbow hard into the man’s back. Before the other could react, he was about to strike again when his movement abruptly stopped.

It was a boy of fifteen or sixteen…

Seeing him hesitate, the boy, eyes bloodshot, bit down even harder.

Cheng Shaotang hesitated for a split second. Seeing Wan Ping leading his men toward them, he stopped thinking altogether and struck heavily at the back of the boy’s neck. The boy let out a muffled groan and crumpled limply to the ground, unconscious.

On the other side, Wan Ping showed no mercy as he stabbed to death a young man who tried to resist, then smashed a heavy punch into a middle-aged man who had charged out of nowhere. As the man reeled in a daze, Wan Ping followed through and drove his sword straight into his chest.

“Someone’s trying to escape!” A companion’s shout snapped them out of the heat of battle. Wan Ping immediately led his men in pursuit, surrounding several panic-stricken men fleeing through the front courtyard and closing in to fight them at close quarters.

Cheng Shaotang, meanwhile, led his remaining two companions in a bloody fight inside the house against several other men.

After they had stabbed the last man to death, Cheng Shaotang numbly wiped the blood from his sword. The companions beside him rushed out at once to join the fighting in the courtyard.

Expressionless, he swept his gaze around the room. The interior was in utter disarray—blood spattered everywhere, corpses lying strewn across the floor, one after another.

Was this his assassination mission?

After a long while, a trace of struggle flickered in his eyes.

Would this become his normal state in the future? Killing—killing without knowing why, killing without regard for right or wrong.

All because of four words—each serving its own master.

Suddenly, a faint collision sounded in the otherwise silent room. He turned toward the noise at once, alert, his sword moving even faster, already aimed with perfect precision at the person hiding inside a cabinet.

“No, no—please don’t kill me, don’t kill me…” A woman’s terrified voice rang out, and his hand stiffened mid-motion.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, sword raised, watching as a young woman of seventeen or eighteen stepped out from a cabinet as tall as a person.

Her pretty face had gone pale, her eyes wide with fear as she pleaded with him in a trembling voice.

“Please, spare me… I—I don’t know anything. I—I’m just… just a servant in their household. Please don’t kill me…”

A flash of struggle crossed Cheng Shaotang’s face, yet no matter what, he could not bring himself to thrust his sword down.

The woman kept her gaze fixed tightly on him. Seeing this, she felt a slight sense of reassurance, and her words grew even more pitiful and innocent.

“Please… let me go…”

As she spoke, she secretly slipped her hand into the bundle hidden in her robes.

The hesitation on Cheng Shaotang’s face deepened.

She was a frail woman, about the same age as his Xiao Yu. Had tonight’s events never occurred, she might one day have married, borne children, and lived the life she wished for.

Thinking this, his sword shifted, inch by inch, drawing back.

The woman was overjoyed. Her fingers finally touched something inside the bundle, and just as she was about to pull it out, a sharp pain suddenly tore through her back. Lowering her head, she saw the sharp tip of a sword protruding from her chest.

She stared in disbelief at Wan Ping, who had attacked her without her noticing, her eyes filled with resentment.

Wan Ping coldly withdrew his longsword, then drove it into her once more with force. The woman finally collapsed to the ground, no longer able to move.

“You—” Cheng Shaotang watched helplessly as the woman was killed, anger at last rising in his eyes.

“She was merely a frail woman. Why did you have to—”

“Take a look at the hidden weapon in her hand,” Wan Ping replied calmly.

Cheng Shaotang lowered his gaze to the woman’s corpse on the ground and, sure enough, saw that at some point she had clutched a box-shaped hidden weapon in her hand.

“If she had triggered the mechanism just now, you would have been riddled with arrows in an instant.” Wan Ping’s emotionless voice rang by his ear once more.

“I’ll kill you all!!” Inside the house, the boy whom Cheng Shaotang had earlier knocked unconscious with a heavy punch had somehow awakened. He snatched up a longsword from the ground and roared as he hacked toward them.

Wan Ping’s face was cold. His hand rose and his sword fell. Before Cheng Shaotang’s shout of protest could leave his mouth, he mercilessly cut the boy down on the spot.

Cheng Shaotang felt as though the blood throughout his body were freezing solid, as if an icy chill were rising from the soles of his feet, quickly seeping into his limbs and bones.

Slaughter. Hatred…

“Commander Cheng, do you know that for people like us, the one thing we can never afford is soft-hearted mercy?”

Wan Ping worked with the others to move the corpses into a room and set it ablaze. As the residence was instantly swallowed by roaring flames, he spoke with unsettling calm.

Cheng Shaotang said nothing. Leading his men, he took several swift strides and disappeared into the night.

“What crime did they actually commit? Why did His Highness the Crown Prince order their pursuit?” Only after they reached a safe place did Cheng Shaotang finally voice the question he could no longer suppress.

Wan Ping tore the black cloth from his face and frowned. “Commander Cheng, you should know this is not something we are meant to ask.”

“That’s the only thing I want to know right now!” Cheng Shaotang roared, barely holding his fury in check.

“I don’t know,” Wan Ping replied, “but I can tell you this—they deserved to die.”

“So you needn’t feel any guilt. Though personally, I find such guilt rather laughable.” His tone remained completely flat.

Seeing how grim Cheng Shaotang’s expression had become, Wan Ping paused, then added, “Commander Cheng, you should get used to this sort of thing as soon as possible. You know as well as I do what kind of fate awaits those of us who follow His Highness the Crown Prince if Prince Lu ascends the throne one day.”

“Do you really think they would spare your family then?”

“Don’t think His Highness the Crown Prince is cruel. Power struggles have always worked this way. Emperor Shengzu of the previous dynasty was hailed as a wise ruler and widely praised in the history books—yet didn’t he ascend the throne by killing his own brothers?”

“On the surface, everything looks noble and upright, but is the inside truly pure and without stain?”

“Once you are caught in a struggle for power, it’s either you die or I do. And once you fall, it won’t just be you—your wife and children will not escape death either.”

Cheng Shaotang pressed his lips tightly together.

Wan Ping frowned. At this moment, he finally understood why Commander Chu had sent him along this time. This Commander Cheng was capable, no doubt. But he still possessed a trace of soft-hearted mercy.

Who could say what trouble would arise if he spared even a single survivor? When that time came, it wouldn’t just cost him his own life—perhaps even the lives of his family would not be enough to appease His Highness’s wrath.

Wan Ping thought this might be a test set by His Highness himself.

If he passed it, his future would be bright. If he couldn’t endure it, this might well be the end of the road.