Chapter Thirty-One: Who Is More Beautiful Than Him

"Does your brother know that his 'good sister' goes straight to a brothel the moment she leaves his side?"

Despite having dragged Jiang Zhuo out of the Shifang Pavilion as easily as one would a chick, Bai Feijun continued to grumble with evident dissatisfaction.

"You visited a pleasure house, didn't spend a single coin, and even walked away with a jade bracelet. Between the two of you, who was entertaining whom?"

Bai Feijun was well aware of how Jiang Zhuo’s finances were managed. Part of the funds was with Tonghua and the others for procuring supplies, and the rest was kept by Bai Feijun, who served as her personal bodyguard. The fact that Jiang Zhuo, who was supposed to be penniless, had managed to visit a brothel and seek out its top performer was something Bai Feijun had truly not anticipated.

"It’s not like I chose to be this good-looking on purpose," Jiang Zhuo said, blinking innocently.

This drew a disgusted "tsk" from Bai Feijun. "You’re covered in that fop’s perfume; it’s cloying and nauseating."

"Then let’s go look around over there. You’ve just become my bodyguard, and I haven't given you anything yet. Why don't you pick out a few sets of clothes to change into on the road?"

Jiang Zhuo pointed with a small hand, and when Bai Feijun looked up to see it was a clothing store, his expression softened slightly.

Having regained her freedom, Jiang Zhuo soon began browsing the men’s attire as well.

"This set, this one, and this one too." Jiang Zhuo made her choices quickly, then picked out two masks. "And please add padding to the shoulders; at the very least, my silhouette shouldn't reveal that I am a woman."

Bai Feijun, however, went into the changing room and remained silent for quite a while.

As the sky gradually darkened, Jiang Zhuo began to feel sleepy. Just as she was dozing off, a dark red figure appeared before her.

Jiang Zhuo opened her eyes, dazed. She saw a man of tall stature before her, dressed in a crisp, noble-looking dark red *lan-shan* robe, his face partially obscured by a cold, iron-cast mask that carried an air of imposing authority. In the fading twilight, he looked like a demonic Asura.

"Ah—!" Jiang Zhuo cried out in surprise.

"What is it? Did you have a nightmare?"

The man stepped closer, but the voice from beneath the mask remained familiar. It was Bai Feijun.

Jiang Zhuo collected herself and realized that Bai Feijun had changed into a wide-sleeved, dark red robe, giving him the air of a wealthy, elegant young master.

"How is it?"

"It looks very good," Jiang Zhuo nodded in approval. "Though it might be a bit inconvenient for traveling tomorrow morning."

As she spoke, she reached out to roll up his sleeves, securing them with the ribbons at hand.

"That should be better."

"I never would have thought that the pampered County Princess Zhaoning would be so good at taking care of others," Bai Feijun remarked, his lips curling upward as he looked at the neatly bound sleeves.

Jiang Zhuo’s movements stalled for a moment. These were things a concubine ought to do for her master. Without realizing it, she had fallen back into the habits formed by the humiliation and suppression she endured in her previous life due to her low status. But she was a County Princess now; she no longer needed to live at the mercy of others.

Her expression turned cold, and she turned to settle the bill and leave. Bai Feijun, in high spirits, remained oblivious to her sudden shift, gathering the pastries and clothes Jiang Zhuo had bought and following behind.

"...Between him and me, who is better looking?"

Out in the night, someone seemed to ask, though Jiang Zhuo didn't quite catch it.

"Who?"

"No one." Bai Feijun coughed, seemingly in even better spirits.

Jiang Zhuo thought for a moment and quickly realized he was referring to Xuanchuan, who had also been wearing red that day.

"How can there be such a person?" Jiang Zhuo chuckled softly. "You won't even show your face, yet you want to compare your looks to a brothel’s top performer?"

"Does Miss Jiang want me to take off the mask?" Bai Feijun stopped and looked at her.

"So, this mask is something that can be removed whenever one wishes?" Jiang Zhuo teased.

"If it were you, I could."

Bai Feijun’s gaze was intense. He had stopped amidst the flow of the street, like a riddle quietly waiting for Jiang Zhuo to reveal the answer.

Jiang Zhuo considered herself a curious and stubborn person. Unanswered questions were ones she would keep asking; impossible tasks were ones she would keep attempting. It was just like playing chess with Bai Feijun—even knowing it was a losing game, she would keep searching for a way to break the deadlock.

But as she reached out to touch the terrifying black iron mask, her thoughts changed.

"No need," Jiang Zhuo turned away and continued walking. "I believe Brother Feijun must have your own reasons for covering your face."

Jiang Zhuo had a sharp nose. Whenever Bai Feijun approached her, whether intentionally or not, she could smell a faint scent of blood, the cold, metallic chill of armor, and a strangely familiar fragrance.

Previously, she had assumed Bai Feijun was merely a descendant of a fallen noble family who had campaigned with her brother for years, and she hadn't given it much thought. But now that he had changed his clothes, Jiang Zhuo was even more certain of what lay beneath the scent of blood.

Ambergris.

In her past life, she had often smelled this complex, sweet fragrance around Prince Jing. This scent seemed to have transcended being just a fragrance; it had become a symbol of power and status. When Ling Heng was at the height of his influence, he had also received gifts of ambergris, though the quantity and quality were far inferior to Prince Jing’s.

A close friend brought back from the frontier by her brother, a grim Asura mask, ambergris... Jiang Zhuo knew who Bai Feijun was. She just didn't know how to face him yet.

If Bai Feijun were truly just a commoner-turned-strategist from a fallen house, she could simply recommend him, repaying the debt of her past life, and use the opportunity to win him over. But if his true status and position were such that he harbored greater ambitions, Jiang Zhuo felt this favor was far too heavy.

"Is Miss Jiang not worried that beneath this mask is a disfigured monster or some notorious wanted criminal?" Facing Jiang Zhuo’s sudden change, Bai Feijun paused, then quickly caught up, asking, "Does Miss Jiang trust me that much?"

"Since Brother Feijun can compare yourself to the top performer of Shifang Pavilion, your appearance must be quite exceptional," Jiang Zhuo said, raising an eyebrow with a faint smile. "And if you were a wanted criminal, the fact that you could evade the heavy tracking of the imperial dungeons and the searches of the authorities shows your martial arts are peerless and your reach is boundless. Wouldn't I be safer staying by your side?"

"The journey ahead is long and fraught with danger. If a villain were to steal my gear and impersonate me, how would you handle it, Miss Jiang?" Bai Feijun continued to tease, attempting to pique her curiosity about him.

"Then I would certainly notice that something was wrong." Jiang Zhuo tilted her head and offered him a gentle smile. "Whether you wear a mask or not, and regardless of your identity or appearance, I would be the first to recognize you in a crowd."

Bai Feijun was slightly taken aback.

Jiang Zhuo turned and stepped into the inn. As it turned out, they had walked right back to it while talking. Tonghua and the others had already finished purchasing supplies and were waiting for her to prepare for their departure.

The night passed peacefully.

The turn of events occurred the next day at a pavilion they passed while leaving Hangzhou City.