Revolt
For some reason, the atmosphere at Yan Manor was indescribable after a short trip out. It was obvious Ming Feizhen was not around, and it was equally obvious that something was amiss based off the looks on the servants’ faces and Miss Yan constantly mumbling as she plucked petals.
“His personality is okay. He’s tall enough, which is a plus. He’s poor, which is a shortcoming, yet he eats so much. I don’t have financial issues, though, so I could feed him for ten lifetimes without a hassle. Men tend to eat more, so it’s not a shortcoming. He doesn’t know my true identity, but I’m still the daughter of the local magistrate, yet he eavesdropped on me. If people find out a servant eavesdropped on me, he’d be executed. To risk his life for me is a good trait. If only he wasn’t so ugly.”
Nobody could tell what Song Yanluo was thinking about since she was not looking at the branch that she had plucked all the petals off. The servants wanted to say something to the maiden staring into the ether, but nobody dared to open their mouth.
As the last time he saw that sort of terrified look was when Fiends’ Genesis invaded the capital, Tang Ye could not resist the urge to ask, “Who revolted?”
Without turning her gaze towards him, Song Yanluo sighed. “Nobody. Mm, well, somebody did, which is why he’s not here right now.”
Big Bro revolted? She can’t be serious. He’s…
The mere thought of Ming Feizhen’s complicated relationships in the martial world was enough to induce a headache. If he was not among the top five most likely people to stage a revolt, then he was in the top ten. He even had a stash of money that… but it did not add up. Revolting did not fit the mould of Ming Feizhen that Tang Ye had in his head, not to mention the timing was so terrible that only an insane man would choose now of all times. If that was not enough, why would he attempt something doomed to fail?
“Where is he staging his revolt?”
Song Yanluo stopped her initial condescending response, then looked over her shoulder and replied, “In my heart.”
… Big Bro, just what have you done?
“If only he was half as good looking as you.” Song Yanluo cast away the petals in the hand and then sauntered off.
Song Yanluo’s appearance certainly was Ming Feizhen’s cup of tea; however, the purpose of his trip to Hangzhou was to find his stash of treasure and, most importantly, to stay off his shifu’s radar. Why would he then choose now of all times to conspicuously court a woman, particularly when Hua Yumeng was active throughout the city.
Big Bro wouldn’t commit suicide like this. I can’t take everything Miss Yan mumbled at face value.
In light of requiring evidence, Tang Ye placed an enquiry with the one person who would not lie.
“He’s investigating Hua Yumeng,” answered Yan Buer.
“… He’s really courting death?”
“He left this for you.” Yan Buer tossed Tang Ye a sheet of paper.
Upon reading, “Find a place to stay. I need to settle the score with Hua Yumeng first,” Tang Ye thought the world had gone nuts. While Ming Feizhen’s attempts to hide from his shifu were excessive, he was now reversing into the opposite extreme.
The petrified Tang Ye slowly came to his senses as he picked up on shouting, cussing and whispering, but it was not until he heard the sound of metal clashing on metal that he fully snapped out of it. Ming Feizhen was posing as Tang Ye’s servant, and no matter what sort of weird connection he had with Song Yanluo, it was between the two of them, so why were the servants afraid?
Since Tang Ye was in a rush to report Hong Jiu’s status, he entered via the back door. Therefore, he was unaware of why a fight broke out at the front door. Starting a fight outside of Yan Manor was borderline insanity. Having said that, Hong Jiu did say Hangzhou was about to embroiled in turmoil, prompting Tang Ye to speed to the door.
With every step he took, he found himself increasingly surprised. Though he had yet to completely control his two qis, his five senses were heightened substantially compared to before. He could distinctly hear no less than a hundred people, half of whom were martial artists. From the sounds of their footwork and the weapons clashing, he could discern than over 70% of them were armed.
The main doors were open, yet nobody dared to cross inside.
The team attired in teal attire numbered up to eighty people armed with a variety of weapons. They did not resemble some haphazardly-put-together crew, but they did not seem to belong to a particular sect, either. Nonetheless, their gazes and agility were proof that they were active in the pugilistic world.
The other team numbered only around thirty people. However, they had horses, so their ten-plus riders gave the others a hard time. Adorning black gear from head to toe gave them a dangerous vibe.
Tang Ye conjured several theories just watching the tense confrontation for a few seconds. If they were looking for Yan Buer to mediate, then it was preposterous for them to be as confrontational as they were at his door.
Someone suddenly walked up from behind Tang Ye, prompting him to ask, “Miss, who are they?”
“Lame people,” replied Song Yanluo, yawning.
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