Chapter Thirteen: Pan Yinlian

“Madam, just now, you…” Xi Liu could not help but ask.

“Mmm, the young master did well. He made me feel wonderful. Next time, if there’s a chance, I’ll let you try it too. After all, you’ve served me for so many years—it’s been hard on you,” Liu Wenxiang replied.

“Ah… Madam, that’s absolutely not possible. How could I let the young master serve me?” Xi Liu was instantly startled. If the young master were to massage her shoulders and get so close, how could the young lady possibly spare her?

“What’s the harm in it?” Liu Wenxiang smiled. “If you have nothing to do, go visit the young master’s room more often. Learn a thing or two about how to serve him. That way, I can enjoy life even more in the future.”

After serving herself a few times, Liu Wenxiang felt it would be improper to rely on Su Yang too much. She figured it was time her close maid learned the skill. But to Xi Liu, those words took on quite a different meaning.

…

Su Yang made a trip to Jiangnan House, only to find that the cloth shop next door was being sealed off by the authorities.

“Old Qian, come here a moment.”

“Yes, young master?” The manager of Jiangnan House hurried over, setting aside his chores.

“What’s going on next door?”

“Sigh… I heard a gang of thieves entered the city yesterday. Not a single member of the family—over thirty people—survived. Countless maids and servants were killed, and all their gold and silver was looted,” Manager Qian sighed deeply. “The Han family, luck has truly turned against them.”

“Is the Han family considered prominent in our Yanggu County?”

“They’ve done well these last two years. Apart from the top three families, Han’s is probably the next wealthiest.”

“Old Qian, why do those three families stand above the rest?”

“To be a top family in Yanggu County, it’s not just about wealth and businesses. You need a fifth-rank martial artist to hold the fort. Without that, you’re just second-tier. The Han family never had a fifth-rank martial artist, so they couldn’t stand among the top families. I think—”

“Sigh… go tend to your work,” Su Yang interrupted, sighing. He didn’t let Manager Qian finish. Sometimes, knowing less is better than knowing more.

What kind of thieves could be so powerful as to wipe out the Han family? Even Wang Shangfu, the old dog head of the Wang family’s main branch, had four ninth-rank blood-burning experts at home. The Han family surely had their own formidable martial artists—even if not fifth-rank, at least sixth-rank. What kind of marauder could be so formidable? Besides, for such an uproar, were the county officials blind and deaf?

The three great families of Yanggu County had simply banded together to slaughter a pig.

Perhaps due to calamity and war, even the great families were struggling. If the Han family had dispersed their fortune sooner, they might have survived a little longer. This was what happened when power didn’t match wealth—they were the pigs to be slaughtered.

Destruction and ruin could come in a single night.

Could the Wang family’s second branch hold onto Jiangnan House?

With foreign invasions, natural disasters, drought, peasant uprisings, and political strife in the imperial court, the realm of Da Qian was now perilous. Who would still have the leisure to visit a restaurant?

It was best to find an opportunity to sell while he could.

Once he broke through to the eighth, seventh, sixth, and finally fifth and fourth ranks… even if he lost everything, with a wave of his arm, Yanggu County would be in his pocket.

Thus, cultivating strength was the true path. The family’s progress needed to accelerate—relying on his own cultivation, who knew when he’d reach the eighth rank.

Entrusting Old Qian with the shop, Su Yang disguised himself and visited several pharmacies. Most did not dare sell arsenic, but after asking if they had rat poison, he finally bought a small bottle.

As for the Wang family’s pharmacy, Baozhi Hall, it had long since closed and been leased out; he didn’t even bother visiting.

A bottle of arsenic was enough to finish off Zhang Hu. All that remained was to find the right opportunity. Since it was still early, Su Yang went to Mei Hua’s home using the address provided by Peach Blossom.

In the northern part of Yanggu County, the poorest lived in squalid surroundings. The environment was filthy, the people mixed, and the bodies of drowned rats and stray cats in the gutters were left unattended.

Corpses would sometimes be left lying in the open until they stank so badly the authorities had to clear them away. Such cases were rarely investigated; the officials couldn’t be bothered.

…

Mei Hua’s father had died young, leaving behind a gravely ill mother. They lived in a small courtyard shared by three families, with only two rooms to their name.

“Brother, just sell me,” little Mei said, her eyes red. At only thirteen or fourteen, her face was still soft and innocent, her features delicate, her large, pitiful eyes so like her sister’s. But her tone was firm: “But half the money must be left for Mother’s treatment.”

“Are you serious, little sister?” In the dim room, a scruffy, shifty-eyed man was overjoyed.

Seeing her little sister nod resolutely, he could barely contain his glee. “Good, good… If only you’d come around sooner! That old hag can finally get her medicine.”

“Xiao Mei, stay here. I’ll go find Dog Master. The brothel may not be a good place, but at least you’ll eat well and live in comfort. I’m doing this for your own good, for our family,” the sleazy man said, then hurried out.

Su Yang followed and knocked him out with a single blow, dragged him into an alley, and took out a prepared knife.

If he castrated this scum, he’d have no hopes of marrying and thus would stop selling his sister.

After the deed, he sprinkled some styptic powder on the wound, dumped the man in the street, and left in style. Roaming the streets, Su Yang finally came upon the Da Lang Pancake Shop.

The main door was tightly shut. On the second floor, a window opened, and a stick used to prop it up fell, landing squarely on Su Yang’s head.

Looking up, he saw a woman of ethereal beauty—delicate as a flower, her slender hands like spring onions, her waist as supple as a willow, her skin creamy and soft, and her eyes limpid and inviting. She exuded allure to her very bones.

Her body seemed made of water, fitting perfectly in one’s arms. A few strands of black hair framed her cheeks, lending her an extra air of charm.

Could it be such a coincidence?

A lilting laugh sounded from above. Seeing Su Yang dazed after being struck, Pan Yinlian couldn’t help but cover her mouth and smile, her manner teasing and seductive.

With a thud, Su Yang suddenly collapsed, feigning unconsciousness from the blow. This frightened Pan Yinlian, who hurried downstairs, flung open the gate, and rushed to his side, shaking him anxiously. “Sir, sir, are you all right?”

“I’m fine… just a little dizzy, feels like my head’s been knocked loose. I don’t think I can walk. May I rest at your home for a bit?” His voice was weak, his face pale as if all his blood had drained away—such acting convinced Pan Yinlian. After all, he’d been struck by her falling pole. If anything serious happened, she’d be responsible. Judging by his dress, he seemed a respectable young man.

Moreover, Su Yang’s handsome features and youthful energy made him pleasant company, so Pan Yinlian felt a certain closeness rather than wariness.

She helped Su Yang up and led him inside.

His body rested softly against hers, the unique fragrance of a woman enveloping him—Pan Yinlian was indeed as supple as water.

“Hmph, what a shameless fox, couldn’t hold back after all. And I thought she was some paragon of chastity,” muttered the wrinkled, dark-skinned Madam Wang from across the street, her eyes brimming with disdain.

Madam Wang had always despised beautiful women, especially those famed for their virtue. If she ever met one, she would do anything to drag her down—born of jealousy.

It was nothing but a pretty face, attracting so many men—utterly shameless.

…

The two-story building owned by Wu Da Lang was well situated, with a backyard. The first floor was mainly for guests and pancake making; the second was Pan Yinlian’s room.

Pan Yinlian gently guided Su Yang into the first-floor room. “Sir, please rest here,” she said softly.

As Su Yang was about to enter, his eyes caught sight of an open box on the table—a crimson ginseng root lay within.

Red ginseng—this was the first time Su Yang had seen such a thing. It must be valuable.

“Is this ginseng?” he asked. “Why is it red?”

“My husband’s younger uncle brought it for his brother, the owner. It’s called Taishan Blood Ginseng. Legend says it only grows on Mount Tai and is used for nourishing the blood and strengthening the body,” Pan Yinlian explained.

“Miss, your husband’s uncle must care deeply for his brother, sending such a potent tonic. No doubt he wants you both to have a child soon,” Su Yang said.

At these words, Pan Yinlian’s face darkened with displeasure, a trace of resentment flickering in her eyes.

Born to poverty, she’d been sold as a maid to a wealthy household from a young age. As she grew, her beauty drew the attention of both master and young master, inciting the mistress’s ire and resulting in her marriage to Wu Da Lang.

The lady of the house was from a prominent family. When she married into the household, the master dared not provoke her family’s wrath and could only watch as Pan Yinlian was married off before he’d even tasted her.

She had thought that was the end of it. Her husband might be ugly and short, but she could make do.

Who could have guessed that on their wedding night, the timid Wu Da Lang actually let the master into the bridal chamber, standing guard at the door out of fear and threat? If she hadn’t risked her life, she would have fallen prey to the master.

The very next day, she and Wu Da Lang left Qinghe County.

That was why, after so long, she’d never let Wu Da Lang touch her, not even sharing a bed. The thought of Wu Da Lang consuming the Taishan Blood Ginseng and seeking intimacy made her feel ill.

She hurried to put the ginseng away, intending to throw it out.

“Wait, miss,” Su Yang intervened, looking pained. “If you don’t want it, let me have it instead. Why waste something so precious?”

“If you want it, take it,” Pan Yinlian replied with a careless wave. She knew its value, but since marrying Wu Da Lang, she’d never lacked for food or drink. Having worked as a maid in a wealthy home, she cared little for money. Like someone who has never known hunger, she wasted food without a second thought. Only those who have starved appreciate the worth of every grain.

“Then I thank you, miss. May I ask your name?” Su Yang was elated as he put the ginseng away.

A few days ago, the constable Shen Lian was a ninth-rank martial artist, and some of his colleagues were at eighth rank. The chief constable was likely seventh rank. A gift from a seventh-rank martial artist to his brother would not only be costly but potent as well. Taking it would surely infuse his body with vital energy, refining his skin to iron.

Incense could raise his cultivation level. From ninth to eighth rank, the amount required wasn’t fixed; if he’d just broken through, he might need two hundred points. But if he’d lingered at ninth rank for years, training all the while, he might need only twenty.

This Taishan Blood Ginseng would likely reduce the necessary incense. And for Su Yang, incense meant lifespan—nothing to waste.

“Just call me Yinlian.”

“Thank you, Miss Yinlian, for such a generous gift. I have no way to repay you. Allow me to give you a shoulder massage. My technique is quite refined—I have studied it specially.”

Pan Yinlian eyed him warily. “Men and women should not touch. Please mind your manners, sir.”

“Very well. I’m feeling much better now, so I’ll take my leave.”

“I’ll see you out, sir,” Pan Yinlian said, walking with him to the door. Seeing Su Yang so energetic, she realized she’d just been tricked and felt a flash of annoyance.

Suddenly, with a delicate cry, she tripped and fell toward the stone floor. It would have been a nasty fall, but Su Yang lunged forward and caught her in his arms, cushioning her fall with his own body.

Pan Yinlian truly lived up to her reputation; for the first time Su Yang understood what it meant for women to be made of water—her body was soft and supple, melting perfectly against his.

Feeling Su Yang’s heavy breathing and broad chest, Pan Yinlian was startled. But seeing his flustered expression, she felt a secret thrill. Everyone likes to be pursued.

“Ow… it hurts…” Just as Pan Yinlian was about to rise, pain shot through her ankle and she collapsed again, her lips brushing lightly against Su Yang’s—a fleeting, sweet touch.

Their eyes met. Though Pan Yinlian was already a married woman, she couldn’t help but blush.

Su Yang quickly helped her up and, seeing she’d twisted her ankle, said, “You’ve sprained it. Let me set it right for you.”

“Can you really?” she asked, a little doubtful.

“Trust me. I won’t deceive you. Let’s go.”

Without waiting for her response, he scooped her up and carried her into the next room.

“Let me go, let me go… men and women shouldn’t—” Pan Yinlian protested, but her arms clung tightly to Su Yang’s neck.