The Seventh Year of Shenchu
Asking Directions at Night (Part One)
Lingbi led her into the main courtyard, passing through rockeries and gardens to reach the front of the house. Lingbi stepped forward to knock on the door, saying that Lady Wenjun has arrived.
Zhen Wenjun stood at the bottom of the steps, breathing lightly, trying to calm her nerves so that she could appear more composed when facing Wei Zizhuo.
As Lingbi knocked on the door, she thought, as a member of an opera troupe, Zhen Wenjun had just witnessed a massacre. The noble who took her in was the very murderer. An ordinary person could not face a killer calmly. The real “Zhen Wenjun” grew up in the mountains and was later adopted by foster parents who were not wealthy. She might be clever, but she probably hadn’t seen much of the world and wouldn’t be very composed at her coming-of-age age.
In her former life as “Alai”, she often lost her composure, which had some similarities with Zhen Wenjun’s background. This was an ideal precondition for her disguise. The biggest difference between her and the real Zhen Wenjun was that she already knew Wei Zizhuo’s identity and was prepared.
Therefore, the real “Zhen Wenjun” would most likely show some fear and helplessness.
Inside the room, there were already some voices. Upon hearing Lingbi’s announcement, a woman’s voice said, “Come in.”
The speaker was Wei Zizhuo.
Lingbi stepped aside, showing no intention of accompanying her inside, and smiled at Zhen Wenjun, “Lady, please.”
Zhen Wenjun entered the door, calculating in her mind how to handle Wei Zizhuo’s midnight test. This was crucial to the success of the entire plan. Whatever she said tonight could not be changed later. The hardest part of lying was not in the telling but in the remembering. She could memorize the false background fabricated by the Qingliu faction, but killing Wei Zizhuo was not a one-day task. If she were to associate with Wei Zizhuo for a long time, she would inevitably be asked about things she hadn’t considered. She needed to remember everything she said to avoid inconsistencies.
Actually, these were manageable. Zhen Wenjun trusted her memory. What worried her most was not how to remember the lies, but how to deal with the details of interaction known only to Wei Zizhuo and the real Zhen Wenjun.
Once it came to these details buried deep in their memory that no one else could know, if she answered incorrectly, it would inevitably arouse suspicion. And the specific details were only a small part of what might be discussed. What gave Zhen Wenjun an even bigger headache was the entangled subsequent results that would develop based on these details. If the real Zhen Wenjun was someone who had been studying since childhood and was physically weak, she couldn’t display agile skills; if Zhen Wenjun practiced martial arts, which school’s martial arts did she practice? Was she more skilled in leg techniques or fist techniques? Or did she, like Ah Xun, have a preferred weapon she was accustomed to using? What would this weapon be? Or was it more likely that she was both literate and skilled in martial arts, or simply an ordinary wild girl who was illiterate and physically weak?
This was what was most headache-inducing.
Besides the real Zhen Wenjun, who was whereabouts unknown, perhaps only Wei Zizhuo had a clear understanding of the answers.
This plan itself was a life-and-death struggle, a desperate attempt to escape from a perilous situation, with the disparity in strength so great that there wasn’t even a half chance of winning. Her closest kin were being held hostage, and she could only grit her teeth and step onto the stage to perform a flawed play.
Zhen Wenjun was ready. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door of destiny.
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Inside was Wei Zizhuo.
Wei Zizhuo was still sitting in the four-wheeled cart, wearing a slightly lighter plain long robe, with a purple marten fur shawl draped over her shoulders. She had removed all her head ornaments, and her long black hair was simply and meticulously tied with a black string at a slightly high position at the back of her head. She seemed to have removed her makeup, but her complexion was still bright and beautiful. Or perhaps her makeup skills were so superb that it was impossible to tell whether she was wearing makeup or if her facial features were naturally so strikingly vivid.
When she looked over, her eyes were clear and focused, as if she were gazing at something she held in high regard. There was a touch of peach-red under her eyes, giving her a somewhat haggard look, as if she were forcing herself to stay alert. The table beside her was piled with silk paper and scrolls, and the oil lamp was turned up very brightly.
Behind her stood a maid with a face full of horizontal flesh, glaring vigilantly at the person entering the room, her injured hands already wrapped in bandages.
To the right of Wei Zizhuo was another person, a woman whose elegant attire was completely opposite to Wei Zizhuo’s. She wore a loose, off-shoulder, bright red long dress with a lively pattern of a hundred birds. Upon hearing the door open, she quickly turned her head, her expressive peach blossom eyes squinting into a smile when she saw Zhen Wenjun. Who else could it be but Young Master Liao? Young Master Liao, back in women’s clothing, appeared even more enchanting, her lips as delicate as flower petals with morning dew, extremely alluring. Her beautiful face was equally suitable for both men’s and women’s attire.
Zhen Wenjun stepped forward and knelt down, saluting, “This little servant pays respects to the noble one.”
Wei Zizhuo said, “Ah Liao and I were just talking about you, Xiaohua.”
After this address of “Xiaohua,” the female servant behind her pushed a four-wheeled cart, bringing her to the front of Zhen Wenjun. She helped Zhen Wenjun up, holding her hand, and said:
“Since you are my benefactor, you don’t need to kneel and kowtow to me or refer to yourself as a servant anymore. And stop calling me ‘noble one.’ In fact, you are my noble one (贵人, a term for someone who brings good fortune). Remember, my surname is Wei, my given name is Tingxu, and my courtesy name is Zizhuo (字, a name given to Chinese men at adulthood, used among peers). If I remember correctly, I am two years older than you. Are you fifteen this year?”
Not sure if the real Zhen Wenjun knows her name, if it was deliberately hidden to conceal her identity as a member of the Wei family, she might not have been informed. So, she only answered the last confirmed question: “Indeed, fifteen.” Before answering, she nodded, vaguely responding to the name question.
As expected, Wei Zizhuo couldn’t find any fault in her words.
After Zhen Wenjun answered, she couldn’t help but glance at “Xiaohua,” seeing her leopard head, broad shoulders, and fists like bowls. If not for the slight female features in her chest and the way her hair was styled, it would be hard to believe this burly figure was a woman. With her small eyes, deep-set eyes, and slightly yellowish hair, it seemed she was a Hu (胡人, term used historically in China to refer to non-Han people from the north and west). Who would have thought that such a sturdy person would have such a delicate name…
Wei Zizhuo smiled and continued to Zhen Wenjun, “To close people, my name is Wei Zizhuo. The name ‘Zizhuo’ is a man’s courtesy name, to confuse our old enemies. From now on, you can call me Tingxu, just like Ah Liao. Can you remember that?”
Zhen Wenjun indeed didn’t expect her to be so candid, not only revealing her real name but also explaining why she used her courtesy name externally. Truly, she had no defenses against her benefactor? She wasn’t sure, but she could confirm that the so-called “old enemies” referred to the Qingliu faction.
Zhen Wenjun replied with a bit of shyness, “I remember, Tingxu.”
“Fifteen, fifteen, truly the best years.” Ah Liao sighed deeply beside her, playing with a feather fan in her hand. Zhen Wenjun smelled the familiar scent of longyan wood. “I wonder how beautiful Yueniang was when she came of age at fifteen. Unfortunately, she is now in the yellow earth (黄土, a poetic way of saying ‘dead and buried’), her spring pine-like body (春松, a metaphor for youthful beauty) being eaten by insects and ants. Soon she will become a pile of white bones. ‘With the fire blazing, the grass insects sing. With the frost descending, the grass and trees wither. The autumn season has come, and time has passed. I think of my beloved, and sorrow fills my heart.’ This 《Song of Love》 will never be sung to me again. What a pity, truly a pity…”
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Ah Liao mourned Yueniang, and Zhen Wenjun couldn’t quite understand her feelings. If she truly liked Yueniang, why did she watch her being killed without saving her?
Ah Liao turned to look at Zhen Wenjun, and her next words quickly resolved her confusion: “Luckily, I still have Sister Wenjun. If Tingxu hadn’t appeared in time, I would have taken Sister Wenjun into my tent. What would I use to compensate you for saving my life then?”
Zhen Wenjun cursed silently in her heart, but put on a shy smile.
Wei Tingxu said, “Then I would have no choice but to burn all the hibiscus powder (芙蓉散, a prized medicinal or cosmetic powder) in your courtyard.”
Ah Liao’s expression changed upon hearing this, and she quickly waved her hand: “Just joking, just joking. Burning the hibiscus powder is absolutely out of the question. Beauties and hibiscus powder are my lifelines.”
Hibiscus powder? Zhen Wenjun’s heart stirred, something brushed across her mind, but she couldn’t recall the origin of this thing at the moment.
Ah Liao, disguised as a man, did not seem like Wei Tingxu’s subordinate, but rather a close confidant. The two of them spoke very casually.
Ah Liao, dressed in men’s clothing, acted recklessly. She and Wei Tingxu used various means to hide their true identities, and the feather fan was evidence of this. Even now, Zhen Wenjun was not sure who the owner of this feather fan was. Over the years, these two had used countless tricks to deceive the Qingliu faction and others. It was laughable that the Qingliu faction not only failed to figure out whether Wei Zizhuo was a man or a woman, but even the name Wei Zizhuo was deliberately leaked by the other party to mislead them.
Although she was called Wei Tingxu’s lifesaver, the conversation with Ah Liao just now revealed that she, like the hibiscus powder, was merely an object—just a more precious one. These powerful families never considered anyone outside their own interests, which made them quite arrogant.
Seeing Zhen Wenjun lower her head without speaking, Wei Tingxu said to Ah Liao, “I heard that Wenjun had a good relationship with Yueniang. Bringing this up, won’t it make her sad?”
Ah Liao, in a peculiar tone, replied, “Oh my, oh my, just found someone and you’re already being protective. Fine, fine, I know you think about your savior day and night, so I won’t stick around here to be an eyesore and cause trouble. You two enjoy your lovely night.” As she spoke, she stood up and leaned in close to Zhen Wenjun, as if sniffing her fragrance, “So fragrant, so beautiful. I cherish all the beauties in the world, but since Tingxu and I are bosom friends (莫逆之交, meaning very close friends), any beauty with harmful intentions towards her will find me merciless. Don’t be afraid, Sister Wenjun. Since you are Tingxu’s lifesaver, you are naturally my good sister too, and I will cherish and protect you. Do not distance yourself from me out of fear. If you find Tingxu’s company boring, come to my Hua Tower, where fine wine, beautiful songs, and beautiful women are at your disposal. I will make sure to treat you well.”
Her words carried a warning, yet her gaze was frivolous, moving from Zhen Wenjun’s face to her chest. She looked her up and down, and then left reluctantly.
Xiaohua did not escort Ah Liao out but closed the door and returned to Wei Tingxu’s side.
Zhen Wenjun noticed the action of closing the door.
Seeing Zhen Wenjun’s flushed face, Wei Tingxu comforted her:
“Don’t be frightened by Ah Liao; she is always like that, unrestrained. Her family seldom disciplines her. She’s done many outrageous things in Taojun City. Did she take liberties with you?”
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Zhen Wenjun shook her head, “Young Master Liao, no, Lady Ah Liao is indeed a lively person. I was originally sold by my adoptive father to replace Sister Yueniang, and now, thanks to you, Sister Tingxu…”
Halfway through her sentence, Zhen Wenjun suddenly noticed that all of Wei Tingxu’s expressions had frozen, except for her eyes, which were fixed on her. It was as if she had finally found the long-awaited chink in her prey’s armor, and she was savoring the moment, contemplating where to start tormenting her prey for maximum enjoyment.
Zhen Wenjun immediately held her breath, not daring to speak further.
Could it be that I said something wrong?
Zhen Wenjun’s thoughts flashed like lightning as she rapidly recalled all the previous conversations. Every word she had spoken was the truth. With a little investigation, Wei Tingxu could easily verify the truth. Why would this arouse her suspicion? She had been as cautious as she could be. Where had she slipped up?
Wei Tingxu raised her hand, and Xiaohua placed a dagger into her hand. She held the dagger upright in front of Zhen Wenjun, quietly observing it, searching for the sharpest part of the blade.
Zhen Wenjun’s legs trembled, and she did not dare to blink, fearing that in the blink of an eye, the dagger would be thrust into her chest.
