Fish Meat – Chapter 241

by Little Panda

The Ninth Year of Shunde

Like Snapping Dried Twigs and Pulling Up Rotten Wood (8)

Still a hundred paces from the Hundred Flowers Pavilion, Yao Maolin lifted her skirts and hurried through the darkness. Suddenly, she seemed to hear the sounds of fighting ahead, the clanging of weapons crossing exceptionally clear. This sound startled Yao Maolin into stopping, thinking she had misheard. Then, another woman’s miserable shriek confirmed that the noise was indeed coming from within the Hundred Flowers Pavilion.

General Zhen was in the Hundred Flowers Pavilion!

Assassins!

Yao Maolin shouted loudly while rushing recklessly towards the Hundred Flowers Pavilion. By the time she reached the pavilion, panting heavily, the sounds of fighting had already subsided. She saw only two people standing beneath the swaying gauze lanterns.

One was Wei Tingxu, and the other was Zhen Wenjun, her face covered in blood.

Zhen Wenjun held a blade that wasn’t hers. The flickering shadows of the gauze lanterns danced back and forth across her face, making her seem like a completely different person—devoid of any warmth or gentleness, radiating killing intent. The ground was littered with wide-eyed corpses, bathed in a layer of terror by the moonlight.

Her floral forehead ornament¹ was like blood, her eyes held a fierce glint. Just one glance from her made Yao Maolin feel as if she had been dragged onto a battlefield strewn with bones; she was the unarmed² captive awaiting slaughter, unable to move an inch.

“Compiler Yao³,” Zhen Wenjun said calmly, tossing the blade onto the stone table. She turned away from the corpses to face her, subtly shielding Wei Tingxu behind her. “Why have you come? Could it be that you also know these assassins?”

“I…” Yao Maolin’s scalp tightened; she stammered, unable to speak.

Just then, soldiers of the Zhuiyue Army surged into the Hundred Flowers Pavilion, surrounding it completely, a sea of gleaming long blades aimed at Yao Maolin.

A cold sweat broke out all over Yao Maolin’s body. Forcing herself to remain calm, she said, “I came to check because I was worried about the General. The wife of the Vice Minister of Punishments⁴ back at the elegant gathering can testify for me. I only learned the General’s whereabouts after asking her.”

Wei Tingxu sat silently on the stone bench behind Zhen Wenjun. Though no words were exchanged, Zhen Wenjun understood that she didn’t want to act against Yao Maolin at this moment. She waved her hand, signaling the Zhuiyue Army not to make a scene. The soldiers filed past Yao Maolin, clearing away the corpses littering the ground.

Once the cold sweat subsided, Yao Maolin’s vision slowly returned to normal from a narrow point. Only then did she notice many hidden guards concealed in the treetops. Whether these hidden guards had just appeared or had been there all along was unknown, but Yao Maolin understood they were undoubtedly Wei Tingxu’s subordinates.

The assassins’ bodies were carried away one by one. Yao Maolin looked at their young faces; they had sacrificed their lives to eradicate the malignant tumor of Da Yu. What valiant and loyal patriots they were.

Unfortunately, they hadn’t succeeded.

Yao Maolin stared at Zhen Wenjun, slowly walking towards her.

The Zhuiyue Army Captain talking with Zhen Wenjun noticed Yao Maolin approaching and immediately glared at her warily. Zhen Wenjun and Wei Tingxu also slowly turned, glancing her way.

Yao Maolin did not stop her approach.

Ah Liao arrived alone at the edge of the moat. At this hour, the entire city was under curfew, except for the Imperial Gardens.

The Jinwu Guard hadn’t reached this area yet on their patrol, and even if they had, she had nothing to fear.

Rules, laws, ethics, and social order⁵—these things shouldn’t apply to her anyway.

Ah Liao had never seriously looked at the moat banks at night. Ah Qin had once told her that when she came to Runing to study as a child, feeling like a stranger in a foreign land, her favorite thing was to sit alone by this moat. Especially on quiet, deserted nights, the sound of the moat’s gently flowing water could calm her.

This was Ah Qin’s favorite place.

Ah Liao lay on the riverbank, closing her eyes to the breeze, listening to the water sounds Ah Qin had once heard.

“Buzz—”

Something at Ah Liao’s waist suddenly vibrated. She quickly opened her eyes and took out the object. The metal sphere was still vibrating nonstop. She scanned her surroundings warily—no one was there.

Where were the assassins? Ah Liao tightened her grip on the metal sphere.

The surface of the moat suddenly erupted with a loud bang, water blasting high into the air. Ah Liao looked up to see more than ten assassins clad in night-traveling clothes⁶, weapons in hand, descending onto the riverbank in an instant, surrounding her tightly.

The assassins shouted “Treacherous villain!” and charged forward with blades drawn, intending to take Ah Liao’s life. Ah Liao knew no martial arts; usually, the Qingyuan ladies protected her, so she never worried about assassination attempts. These assassins must have targeted her precisely because she was traveling alone at night without protection!

Ah Liao’s heart pounded like thunder. She immediately squeezed the metal sphere hard. With two “zheng zheng” sounds, two extremely sharp spikes extended from the sphere, turning it into a dangerous weapon in her hand. Ah Liao didn’t dare blink as the two lead assassins raised their blades, chopping down towards her head. Ah Liao hastily blocked, stopping the blades’ descent but not their force. Losing her balance and stumbling backward, she was kicked hard in the chest, sent tumbling several steps away.

Ah Liao got a mouthful of rotten grass and spat furiously.

The assassins closing in from behind stabbed towards her back. Ah Liao cried out, moving to raise her arm to block, but before the assassins’ blades could truly land, they had already collapsed to the ground.

Ah Qin appeared behind the fallen assassins, holding three short knives.

“Ah Qin!” Ah Liao nearly jumped up. The moment she saw Ah Qin, her eyes could hold no one else, not even the assassins—only Ah Qin.

Ah Qin threw her three short knives in rotation, cutting through the air dazzlingly. Before the assassins could even clearly see her movements, their fingers were already severed.

Ah Qin’s martial skill was superb, but ultimately, two fists are no match for four hands⁷. More and more assassins leaped out from the moat, and after taking a slash to her back, Ah Qin gradually began to lose ground.

“Quick, go!” Ah Qin pushed Ah Liao’s back, urging her to escape quickly.

Ah Liao’s lantern-like eyes were glued to Ah Qin, refusing to leave. “If I die, I’ll die with you!”

Normally, Ah Liao’s wit, infatuation, and innocent heart⁸ were endearing traits that deeply moved Ah Qin and made her want to cherish her. But being lovesick at a time like this, regardless of the situation, could very well get them both killed on the spot. Ah Qin wished she could kick her backside hard enough to send her flying eight zhang⁹ away.

“Stop messing around!” Ah Qin shouted, fighting as she retreated. “Hurry up and go!”

By now, the patrolling Jinwu Guard had heard the commotion and were rapidly approaching.

One of the assassins sensed the danger and yelled, “Finish this quickly!”

The assassins immediately tightened their formation, pressing forward recklessly. This was the moment Ah Liao had been waiting for!

“Get down!” Ah Liao yelled. Ah Qin didn’t know what she was planning, but Ah Liao often created unexpected and wondrous mechanisms; her command now surely meant something significant was about to happen!

Ah Qin immediately dropped to the ground. Ah Liao slammed both palms onto the top and bottom of the metal sphere. As the sphere vibrated wildly, Ah Liao quickly dropped down too, covering Ah Qin to protect her.

The inside of the metal sphere seemed to house a frantic repeating crossbow¹⁰. It spun in the air, spraying countless iron nails, catching everyone completely by surprise. Endless screams echoed. When the metal sphere fell to the ground, it emitted a foul burnt smell. Apart from the distant sound of the Jinwu Guard’s hurrying footsteps, the immediate surroundings fell silent.

When Ah Qin stood up from under Ah Liao, she saw that all the assassins’ faces and chests were mangled beyond recognition by the nails, a bloody mess.

Ah Qin’s heart was still pounding¹¹ from the metal sphere’s effect. Ah Liao eagerly grabbed her hand, “Where have you been these days? Do you know I’ve been looking for you everywhere?”

“I know…” Ah Qin avoided her gaze, pulling her hand free.

“You know?” Ah Liao remembered. “No wonder I kept feeling like someone was following me secretly these past few days—it was you! I couldn’t find you anywhere, but you were following me all along! Ah Qin, you couldn’t bear to leave me either, right? You can’t leave me! Come back, okay? Do you know I think about you every night until I can’t sleep!”

Ah Qin sighed and asked, “If I continue to stay at Qingyuan, how should you explain it to Ah Xu?”

Ah Liao said seriously, “I just need one word from you. Was Ah Xu’s pregnancy your doing or not?”

Ah Qin shook her head. “No.”

“Then I believe you!” The Jinwu Guard were getting closer. Ah Liao pulled Ah Qin, afraid she would run off again. “Let’s leave here first, then talk.”

Inside the Hundred Flowers Pavilion, dozens of pairs of eyes were fixed on Yao Maolin as she walked step by step towards Zhen Wenjun. Wei Tingxu narrowed her eyes; the Zhuiyue Army soldiers had their blades ready to fall upon this person at any moment, hacking her to death.

“Your hand is injured.” Yao Maolin approached Zhen Wenjun without any other movement, just gently staring at her wound.

Zhen Wenjun and Wei Tingxu simultaneously looked at her arm. Indeed, it was burned—scalded by tea splashed during the earlier assassin attack.

Yao Maolin searched the surroundings and found a watering can for the flowers. She slowly poured cold water onto the wound. Meticulously and cautiously, afraid the water flow was too fast and would hurt this battle-hardened general.

“Does that feel any better, General Zhen?” As Yao Maolin looked up to ask, the light from the gauze lantern hanging steadily in the air happened to fall into her eyes—pure, warm, and bright.

Ah Zhu waited at the Zhuo Jun Manor late into the night, not daring to sleep.

It was said that assassins had struck during the elegant gathering, and the General had even been injured protecting Milady. Ah Zhu hadn’t seen them return, so she didn’t dare sleep.

Finally, the carriage returned to the residence. Zhen Wenjun got out first. After waiting a moment and not seeing Wei Tingxu follow, she looked back and saw her leaning inside the carriage, asleep.

“Milady?” Ah Zhu called softly from outside the carriage.

Zhen Wenjun made a “shush” gesture to Ah Zhu, re-entered the carriage, and carried her out.

From the entrance to the room, Wei Tingxu didn’t open her eyes the entire way. Zhen Wenjun laid her flat on the bed, dissolved algae bean powder¹² in water, dampened a handkerchief, and began removing Wei Tingxu’s makeup.

When the red makeup on her eyelids was wiped away, Wei Tingxu opened her eyes.

“Did I wake you?”

Wei Tingxu shook her head. “I wasn’t asleep.”

Zhen Wenjun rinsed the handkerchief in the water again, smiling at her.

“I actually didn’t notice you were injured.”

Zhen Wenjun subconsciously glanced at the back of her hand. “It’s nothing, just a small wound. I didn’t even notice it myself.”

“The words those assassins said when they died—what are your thoughts on them?”

Zhen Wenjun could repel all dangers in an instant, but she couldn’t gag every single one of them.

Ah Cang’s mission was to lure Zhen Wenjun away; with her present, assassinating Wei Tingxu would be difficult. Unexpectedly, Zhen Wenjun didn’t leave but instead called Wei Tingxu along. Ah Cang simply adapted her plan¹³, leading them both to the Hundred Flowers Pavilion to kill them together.

Except, the ones who died weren’t Zhen Wenjun and Wei Tingxu, but them.

These assassins had prepared for death before coming; they weren’t afraid to die. But at the critical moment, they discovered the true relationship between Zhen Wenjun and Wei Tingxu.

It wasn’t an act. Zhen Wenjun genuinely cared about Wei Tingxu’s life and death, truly using all her strength to protect this treacherous villain.

“Zhen Wenjun, Wei Tingxu, you two jackals in official’s garb¹⁴, deceitful petty people… you are destined to leave a legacy of infamy¹⁵, cursed by ten thousand generations¹⁶!”

“How do I think? Are you referring to this sentence?” Zhen Wenjun repeated the assassins’ curses.

Wei Tingxu looked at her, affirming with her eyes.

“No particular thoughts.”

Wei Tingxu smiled. “How could you have no thoughts? You grew up hearing all sorts of heroic tales; I understand how much you value reputation. Now, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with a treacherous minister like me, I fear even more slander awaits you in the future. Aren’t you afraid?”

Zhen Wenjun wrung the water from the handkerchief and continued removing her makeup.

“How many people get to see Wei Tingxu’s plain face? I am one of them.” Zhen Wenjun propped herself up on one arm beside her, leaning down close. “And how many people will have their names recorded in the annals of history alongside Wei Tingxu’s? I am also one of them. What’s not good about that?”

Wei Tingxu closed her eyes, letting her wipe her face clean.

“However, perhaps you don’t quite understand me yet.”

Zhen Wenjun’s movements paused for a moment.

“Myself included.” Wei Tingxu opened her eyes, gazing into Zhen Wenjun’s. “I only discovered today as well, that I am actually this kind of person.”

The subsequent investigation revealed that Ah Cang and the others did not belong to the Yao family faction. Although also from Nanya, she had no connection to the Yao family. The assassination attempt on Wei Tingxu stemmed solely from her own volition; for the time being, she couldn’t be linked to the Yao family.

In the summer of the ninth year of Shunde, Compiler Yao Maolin composed a stele inscription¹⁷ that slandered Emperor Ming, her intent filled with much ridicule and scorn; her wild arrogance and rebelliousness were unforgivable crimes. The Dali Temple¹⁸, together with the Ministry of Punishments¹⁹, arrested the rebellious elements for strict interrogation.

This heaven-sent catastrophe²⁰ fell upon Yao Maolin’s head, inevitably implicating the entire Yao clan through collective punishment.

The Councilors’ Office and the Dali Temple jointly summoned the Yao family head to the capital for trial.

Meanwhile, in Runing, officials from the Ministry of Punishments were already on their way to arrest Yao Maolin. Knowing she was doomed²¹, she didn’t flee Runing but instead rushed to the Zhuo Jun Manor, kneeling at the entrance, wanting to see Zhen Wenjun.

The main gate slowly swung open. The person who walked out was not Zhen Wenjun, but Wei Tingxu.

“Situ Wei,” Yao Maolin prostrated on the ground, her voice clear and loud. “Situ Wei, my affection for General Zhen is real, but that is my affair alone. One person’s actions should be borne by that person alone²². If you want to kill me, kill me; I won’t even frown. But can you spare the Yao family? This is my mistake alone; the entire Yao family shouldn’t be buried with me!”

One might have expected Yao Maolin to be scared out of her wits²³, begging for mercy. Unexpectedly, she remained steadily prostrated there, speaking each word forcefully and resonantly.

If she had another ten years, perhaps she could have been a formidable opponent.

“Your Yao family should have anticipated today’s outcome when you plotted against me in Yanxing. Compiler Yao should know that I, Wei²⁴, have always repaid every slight²⁵. The ‘gift’ your Yao family gave me that day will be returned a thousandfold today. Compiler Yao can rest assured, the Yao family’s disaster has never been the consequence of your actions alone. Your life, Compiler Yao, I will certainly take. The entire Yao household, down to the livestock, I will not spare either. However, seeing as Compiler Yao holds such deep affection for my wife, on the day of your execution, I will have my wife personally send you on your way.”

Yao Maolin looked up at Wei Tingxu, the hope in her eyes extinguishing bit by bit.

Yao Wei was already dead. Yao Lin coming to the capital meant certain death as well. The annihilation of the Yao family was imminent.

And there was still one more head that Wei Tingxu had her eyes on.

For now, it remained on that person’s neck.

Footnotes

花钿 | huādiàn | A type of decorative cosmetic appliqué worn on the forehead or cheeks in traditional Chinese culture.
手无寸铁 | shǒu wú cùn tiě | Lit. “not an inch of iron in hand”; Completely unarmed.
著作郎 | Zhùzuòláng | A historical official title, often involved in drafting documents or compiling records. Here used with the surname Yao.
刑部侍郎 | Xíngbù Shìláng | Vice Minister of the Ministry of Punishments, a historical government department.
伦理纲常 | lúnlǐ gāngcháng | Confucian principles governing social hierarchy and ethical relationships.
夜行衣 | yèxíngyī | Black clothing typically worn for stealth activities at night.
双拳难敌四手 | shuāng quán nán dí sì shǒu | Lit. “two fists find it hard to fight four hands”; An idiom meaning one cannot fight against overwhelming odds alone.
赤子之心 | chìzǐ zhī xīn | Lit. “heart of a newborn babe”; Pure, sincere, and uncorrupted heart.
丈 | zhàng | A traditional Chinese unit of length, approx. 3.33 meters or 10.9 feet. Eight zhang is roughly 87 feet / 26.7 meters.
连弩 | liánnǔ | A crossbow capable of firing multiple bolts in succession.
七上八下 | qī shàng bā xià | Lit. “seven up, eight down”; An idiom describing a state of anxiety or unease, like a fluttering heart.
藻豆粉 | zǎodòu fěn | Likely a type of cosmetic powder or cleanser made from algae and beans.
将计就计 | jiāng jì jiù jì | Lit. “take the enemy’s plan and use it”; To turn an enemy’s plot to one’s own advantage, beat them at their own game.
豺狼冠缨 | cháiláng guānyīng | Lit. “jackals and wolves wearing official hats and tassels”; Vicious, cruel people holding positions of power.
遗臭万年 | yí chòu wàn nián | Lit. “leave a stink for ten thousand years”; To go down in history as infamous.
万世唾骂 | wàn shì tuòmà | Lit. “spat upon and cursed by ten thousand generations”.
碑志 | bēizhì | An inscription on a stone tablet, often commemorative or biographical.
大理寺 | Dàlǐ Sì | The highest judicial court in imperial China, responsible for reviewing sentences.
刑部 | Xíngbù | One of the six ministries in imperial China, responsible for justice and punishments.
弥天大祸 | mítiān dàhuò | Lit. “disaster that fills the sky”; A huge catastrophe.
在劫难逃 | zài jié nán táo | Lit. “in calamity, difficult to escape”; Unable to escape one’s fate or doom.
一人做事一人当 | yī rén zuòshì yī rén dāng | A common saying meaning one should take responsibility for one’s own actions.
屁滚尿流 | pì gǔn niào liú | Lit. “fart rolling, urine flowing”; A vulgar idiom describing extreme fear, causing loss of bodily control.
卫某 | Wèi mǒu | A way of referring to oneself using surname + ‘mou’, often used in formal or slightly archaic contexts.
睚眦必报 | yázì bì bào | Lit. “sure to retaliate for an angry glare”; To seek revenge for even the smallest grievance, extremely vengeful.

Footnotes

0 Comments