Chapter Forty-Two: Yan Yunfei

Princess Lotus never expected that a man of Chu Youcai’s character could be so slandered, and by someone whose own conduct seemed thoroughly despicable. She recalled how Chu Youcai had saved her homeland, and at that moment she resolved to help him, no matter what.

She remembered her own ability to cast illusions. Though her powers were weak, perhaps they would prove useful—perhaps she could ensnare Zhu Yuzheng in a web of delusions and force him to confess his vile intentions.

At this thought, a faint smile touched Princess Lotus’s lips.

—When the time comes, let them witness what I’m capable of!

Transformed into a butterfly, she fluttered gracefully in the air.

But nearby, Hongyu had no mind to admire the butterfly. She noticed the heavy look on Chu Youcai’s face and felt utterly dejected herself. Not daring to disturb him, she quietly slipped out of the door.

She ran to a patch of grass some distance from the house and, needing a release from her frustration, shouted at the top of her lungs, “Why am I always causing trouble and never able to help my brother? Even at the Ghost Marsh, I just made things worse! I’m simply too weak!”

The more Hongyu thought about it, the more upset she became, until she was on the verge of tears. At that moment, a stray cat darted across her path, startling her. Instinctively, she bent down to scoop it up, but the cat kicked her leg and bolted away.

“Even stray cats bully me now!” Seeing this, Hongyu felt even more wronged, and for some reason, tears began to flow uncontrollably down her cheeks.

As Hongyu wept, two figures appeared on the road ahead: a burly man with a bushy beard, dressed in tattered Daoist robes, round-faced, broad-eared, with thick brows and a gruff expression, and a refined young man with a calm demeanor, following in his wake.

The young man spoke softly, “Master, should we not go to the Prince’s Manor first?”

The burly man replied impatiently, “I’m only here because the Prince asked me to check which of his sons show promise. Why bother with the manor?”

The young man persisted, “With the locust plague looming, shouldn’t we seek out Hermit Liu at Cold Sand Lake?”

The burly man grew even more impatient. “That fellow never stops whining about money! Ignore him—when the locusts come, I’ll take care of it myself!”

“And there are rumors of the Blood Lotus Sect appearing at Guiyuan Temple to the west. Shouldn’t you, as a chivalrous hero, intervene?” The young man’s voice faded to a whisper.

“Are you the master or am I? First, we drink! Three days on the road without a drop—my craving’s gotten the better of me!” the burly man grumbled.

“Before we left, Mistress said we must follow Ridan’s arrangements. Drinking leads to trouble, and you’ve made grave mistakes before—have you forgotten?” Though he was the disciple, the young man was firm, his voice unwavering.

The man’s expression shifted, and he compromised: “Three cups! Just three!”

The youth nodded. “Fine. But no more than three.”

Just then, the burly man spotted Hongyu by the roadside, her face streaked with tears, looking utterly forlorn. In a flash, he traversed seven or eight yards and appeared before her, booming out, “Young lady, do you suffer some injustice?”

Startled, Hongyu looked up and saw the rugged figure before her. Fear drained her face of color; she considered running back to Chu Youcai’s courtyard, but under his fierce gaze, she found herself rooted to the spot, her voice caught in her throat.

Seeing her hesitate, the man declared loudly, “If you have been wronged, speak up! I, Yan Yunfei, fear neither heaven nor earth—no matter who’s at fault, I’ll see justice done!”

Hongyu found his name vaguely familiar, but couldn’t place it. At that moment, the young man stepped forward, bowing politely. “Miss, forgive my master’s abruptness. He’s forthright by nature and detests injustice, especially when it leaves a woman in tears. You seemed so distraught—perhaps we can be of some help?”

Hongyu, noticing the youth was about her age and spoke with such decorum, felt some relief and shook her head. “This isn’t something others can help with.”

Yan Yunfei declared with boisterous confidence, “There’s nothing in this world I, Yan Yunfei, cannot help with!”

His name felt ever more familiar to Hongyu, but she still couldn’t recall from where. Remembering Chu Youcai’s humiliation, she replied, “My brother is a good man—he and Sister Yun have always treated each other with respect, yet…” Her voice faltered.

Yan Yunfei urged her on, “Go on, speak.”

Hongyu continued, “Yet yesterday, someone at the tavern slandered my brother and Sister Yun, saying my brother sold her to a brothel. Sister Yun was so distressed she almost coughed blood. But the slanderer is said to be someone of very high status…”

“Status be damned! I’ll see justice done!” Yan Yunfei interrupted. “Which tavern? And what’s your brother’s name?”

Hearing his fixation on the tavern, Hongyu suspected his thirst for wine was taking over, and her hope in him waned. She replied softly, “My brother is Chu Youcai.”

Upon hearing this, both the man and the youth exchanged a look of surprise. The youth asked in a low voice, “Chu Youcai? The third son of the Prince’s Manor?”

“That’s right,” Hongyu nodded.

The youth then asked, “If you’re his sister, are you also a young lady of the Prince’s Manor?”

Hongyu shook her head. “My name is Hongyu. Brother Chu saved me by chance, and I’m now living with his family.”

“I see,” the young man said, finally understanding.

“Hongyu? Why does that name sound so familiar?” Yan Yunfei furrowed his thick brows, struck by a vague memory.

Just as Yan Yunfei was about to ask for her surname and her parents, a flash of light caught his eye—a wild goose flew overhead with a bamboo flute tied to its back, soaring across the sky.

A moment later, the plaintive notes of a flute drifted through the air, filled with heroic vigor like a mighty river, yet tinged with sorrow.

“A bamboo flute and wild goose? Could it be the illustrious Second Lady herself? Why would she appear here—could it be because of the locust plague?” These thoughts raced through Yan Yunfei’s mind as he leapt into the air, chasing after the sound, calling back to Hongyu, “Young lady, I’ll see justice done for what happened at the tavern. If I’m delayed, just mention my name, Yan Yunfei!”

The youth immediately followed, leaping high and vanishing with Yan Yunfei in just a few bounds.

Hongyu stood dazed for a long while, only coming to her senses once she was sure Yan Yunfei was truly gone. She made a mental note of his name, then turned to head home. Judging by his supernatural skills, he was clearly a hero—if he could help Brother Chu, it would be ideal.

But would his name really carry weight? He was but a wandering hero; perhaps useful against bandits, but the culprit was none other than the son of Zhu Huiweng, a respected Confucian scholar! This was not a matter of brute strength.

Hongyu shook her head and clenched her fists. If only her ghost-mediator powers could break through from catching spirits to commanding them, she wouldn’t have to rely on anyone—she could simply use her little ghosts to drag out the villain’s secrets.

Alas, her abilities were still in their infancy. How could she improve them?