Chapter 62: Embrace the Life of a Cross-Dressing Master

In an instant, the short blade flashed through the air.

Ma San’s face changed drastically.

A table flew across the room, knocking down two of the thugs.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Ma San broke free.

“Third Brother, run!”

The thug who had hurled the table charged forward, short blade in hand.

“Xiao Wu!” Ma San staggered back, having taken two knife wounds. He looked gratefully at the thug and called out, “Good brother!”

Xiao Wu rushed forward with his blade. “Third Brother, go!”

His name was Xiao Wu.

Two years ago, when his father fell gravely ill and he had no way out, it was Ma San who gave him money. Though the sum only prolonged his father’s life by a month, Xiao Wu’s gratitude was boundless, and from then on he became one of the thugs.

He was unremarkable among Ma San’s men and, due to his lack of cunning, was often bullied. Ma San paid him little mind. Still, Xiao Wu followed him—fighting, injuring, collecting gambling debts...

Until this moment!

Even Ma San had not expected that, in the end, it would be Xiao Wu who stepped forward.

That look of astonishment and joy on his face.

“Go!”

Xiao Wu charged.

Blades flashed.

Blood spurted.

Xiao Wu staggered backward.

A gash split his face, the flesh on either side curling back to reveal red and white tissue.

But it was the wound to his abdomen that was deadly.

He clutched his belly with one hand, waving the short blade with the other as he retreated.

“Third Brother, go!”

Ma San had already reached the wall, leaped up, and grabbed the top.

Clang!

A short blade flew over, nailing Ma San’s hand to the wall.

He let out a scream as his body slid down.

Suddenly, he felt his feet land on something.

He glanced down.

Xiao Wu was crouched there, propping up Ma San’s legs with his shoulders.

“Go!”

Xiao Wu straightened with all his strength, blood streaming more quickly from his face and abdomen.

His eyes widened.

The thugs rushed at them.

With support under his feet, Ma San endured the pain, pulled the knife out, and scrambled over the wall.

The thugs swarmed.

Xiao Wu’s blade swung again and again, growing weaker each time.

Thud!

A blade plunged into his chest.

His strength drained away as the blade was pulled out.

He slowly sat back, leaning against the wall.

Memories flashed through his mind.

His father lying in bed, dying—the terror drove him to sell everything they owned.

One night, his father tried to end his life with a rope made from clothes, not wanting to be a burden.

He found him in time, cut him down, and father and son wept together.

Desperate, he heard a rumor that money could be borrowed here.

And so he came.

Ma San looked at him and tossed him a string of coins.

“No need to repay.”

He used the money to hire a doctor.

His father lived another month.

In those final days, there was a warmth between father and son that they had never known before.

Those days became his most treasured memories.

Ma San, for all his evil, had a rare moment of kindness, and that simple gesture became sunlight for Xiao Wu’s family.

Thud!

Atop the wall, Ma San fell, desperately kicking Xiao Wu forward.

In that moment, the thugs, eager to redeem themselves, could only hack at Xiao Wu.

His body shuddered with each blow.

Gradually—

The light faded from his eyes, and his body grew still.

He whispered softly,

“Third Brother, thank you.”

Behind him, Ma San clawed hopelessly at the wall, looking up with despair at Zhao Guolin standing atop it.

Behind him, the blades fell in a chaotic frenzy.

…

“As soon as Yang Xuanfu took office, such an incident occurred. Magistrate, in my opinion, the Sunyu clan is most suspect,” Qiu Sheng analyzed cheerfully, bowing slightly, his posture deferential.

Huang Wenzun set down the document in his hand, glanced at Qiu Sheng’s bent waist, and a hint of both disdain and satisfaction flickered in his eyes. “The Crown Princess is from the Sunyu clan, while the Empress hails from the Yang family. Such matters are not for us to meddle in.”

“Yes, Magistrate.” Qiu Sheng acted as if he hadn’t noticed the disdain, responding with humility, “Magistrate, such a major event has taken place in Wannian County. I believe it warrants the utmost attention.”

The more attention it was given, the harsher the punishment would be.

Huang Wenzun stroked his beard in silence.

Often, when a superior cannot speak plainly, it is up to subordinates to interpret his intentions.

Qiu Sheng immediately declared his loyalty. “Magistrate, Yang Xuan saved the Noble Consort. I wonder how the Noble Consort regards him now. But for him to be assigned to guard the Princess of Nanyang—it’s likely a reward for his service.”

This was a bold analysis of the political situation, risking offense to the Noble Consort.

Huang Wenzun’s satisfaction grew, and he gave this old hound a reassuring word. “The Noble Consort is favored, and the Empress is virtuous.”

We stand with the Empress—what is there to fear from the Noble Consort?

The Noble Consort stands alone, relying solely on the Emperor’s favor. But how long can that last? Moreover, the Empress’s background is formidable, sending shivers down one’s spine… Four great families stand behind her. Compared to that, the Noble Consort is like a canary in a gilded cage, and it would be no surprise if she were snuffed out at any time.

“Three days!” Huang Wenzun said coldly. “Many were poisoned, some have died. For such a shocking event to occur in the capital, the judicial officers must be diligent. I’ll give him three days—if he cannot…”

“Then he will have failed to live up to the Magistrate’s trust,” Qiu Sheng replied with a smile.

Just then, a minor official entered.

“Magistrate, we have already apprehended the poisoner.”

Qiu Sheng spun around, astonished. “How could it be so fast?”

He hadn’t even issued the three-day deadline!

A hint of regret flashed in Huang Wenzun’s eyes, but he gave a satisfied nod. “As expected, Yang the Lesser Magistrate has not let me down. Tell him I am most pleased.”

After the messenger departed, Huang Wenzun fell into thought.

“The Noble Consort, the Empress… Yang Xuan—should I let him stir up trouble here in Wannian County, or find an opportunity to strike him down?”

…

“Old Cao is back.”

Cao Ying had returned.

In the duty room sat Yang Xuan and Cao Ying. Wang Lao’er squatted outside.

“Master.”

Cao Ying recounted the events, his demeanor calm, without a hint of pride.

But—

Yang Xuan noticed that Old Cao’s hand, hanging at his side, was opening and closing repeatedly.

A touch of smugness.

Not bad!

Yang Xuan patted his shoulder. “Hearing that you led the men, I was certain all would be well.”

Cao Ying played along, feigning surprise and delight. “Master flatters me.”

Yang Xuan gestured for him to sit.

“Who do you think is behind this?” Yang Xuan had pondered himself and narrowed the suspects to the He and Sunyu clans.

“Ma San mentioned the Sunyu clan, but I dare not take his word for it,” replied Cao Ying, knowing that the strategist should not make the final call and that the master should have the chance to shine. “To poison a group so boldly takes courage.”

“And a truly depraved mind,” Yang Xuan remarked, enjoying the feeling of leadership.

“Indeed, Master’s insight is profound.” Cao Ying bowed. “He Huan of the He clan has only just recovered enough to leave his bed, and their chief guard lost his head under mysterious circumstances. They are surely searching for leads now.”

Outside, Wang Lao’er gazed at the blue sky, wondering what the master would give them for lunch—would there be meat? Lamb or chicken, perhaps…

“The Sunyu clan is skilled in forging weapons. The Tang court does not prohibit civilians from owning arms, so their business is vast,” Cao Ying said admiringly, thinking if only their master had such an enterprise, their cause would be even more secure.

The Sunyu clan relied on the Yingchuan Yang family, which allowed them to send a daughter to the palace and become Crown Princess.

“The Empress is Yang, the Crown Princess is Sunyu—what arrogance! It matches your words, Master: depraved indeed.”

“Sunyu clan…” Yang Xuan mused.

“Courtesy demands reciprocity,” Cao Ying said, his eyes bright as he looked at Yang Xuan.

“It is not noble to leave a grudge unavenged!” The Vermilion Bird shrieked in his ear, “A petty man takes revenge from dawn to dusk.”

Yang Xuan, of course, was no gentleman.

He rose and went out.

“Tonight.”

Cao Ying was puzzled. “Tonight… Master, the important figures of the Sunyu clan are well-guarded. A night attack would be difficult.”

“Meat.”

Wang Lao’er, sitting by the door, looked up at Yang Xuan.

He saw hope and reliance in the boy’s eyes.

Yang Xuan patted his head. “There will be meat.”

At dinner, Wang Lao’er gnawed happily on a lamb shank, his blissful expression inspiring envy.

“Slow down!” Yi Niang scolded him. “There’s more after you finish.”

Wang Lao’er grunted, but didn’t eat any slower.

How he loved his meat.

As the moon rose above the treetops, Yang Xuan asked, “Yi Niang, do we have any dried meat?”

“Yes.”

“Bring me a few pieces.”

Yi Niang packed several large chunks of dried lamb in a small bundle.

Yang Xuan took the bundle. “We’ll be going out later. Be careful at home.”

Yi Niang asked, “Are you going for revenge?”

Yang Xuan nodded.

After he left, Cao Ying said, “Give me a piece of dried meat.”

“None left,” Yi Niang replied, rolling her eyes.

Old Thief came over and whispered, “Lao’er belongs to the master. Don’t try to get too close.”

Cao Ying shivered, realizing he’d grown a bit too pleased with himself, and looked at Old Thief gratefully.

Old Thief shuddered. “Behave yourself. I’m not interested in that.”

The four of them, carrying oil, slipped quietly out of Yongning Ward.

Yang Xuan stopped, and the four squatted in a corner, just like a band of thieves.

“Jia Ren, lead the way.”

As a leader, one must make good use of talent.

Jia Ren was honored. “Rest assured, Master. By the way, where to?”

Yang Xuan looked at the night sky. “Yongping Ward.”

Cao Ying shivered. “Master, you’re going to the Sunyu clan’s stronghold? This is a blood feud… No, not even the murder of a father compares to this.”

The Sunyu clan had a large workshop in Taiping Ward for smelting iron and forging weapons—their very foundation.

And Master means to strike at their root?

“The Sunyu clan will suspect us,” Cao Ying said, regaining his composure.

“We’ll see,” Yang Xuan replied vaguely.

Cao Ying hesitated to say more. Wang Lao’er stared at him, thinking this man was strange—always opening and closing his mouth.

Such is the privilege of leadership—one word silences all opposition.

Old Thief led them quietly through Chang’an’s night. Several times they encountered the Gold Bird Guards on patrol, but each time, by luck, avoided disaster.

Though many ward walls had been torn down, it was still risky to be out at night. The patrols, eager to earn distinction, would throw you into jail and beat a confession out of you—guilty or not.

Arriving at Yongping Ward, they crept down an alley and came to a row of houses.

Inside one house, several guards were drinking.

Their leader, Sun Lang, raised his cup and took a sip. “They poisoned noodles with ease in Yuanzhou, but we’re safe here. Makes me wish I could earn some merit—if only we were assigned elsewhere.”

Outside, black shadows poured oil.

They were in high spirits—all but one, who looked miserable.

“Who’ll light the fire?” Old Thief whispered.

Yang Xuan reached out.

Old Thief struck a spark.

Such a ceremonial act should, of course, be performed by the master himself.

Yang Xuan took the fire starter and tossed it lightly.

“Lao’er!” He handed over a piece of dried meat. Yang Xuan felt like he was training a fierce tiger.

Wang Lao’er nodded, took the meat, and bit off a large chunk.

Yang Xuan pointed to the lit room.

“Whoever comes out first—beat them half to death!”

“Fire!” someone screamed inside.

Sun Lang burst out first.

“Put out the fire!”

His drunkenness vanished, replaced by cold sweat; his legs nearly gave out.

A black figure rushed at him.

“It’s deliberate—die!” Sun Lang charged.

A palm struck out!

The masked shadow dodged, then kicked Sun Lang’s knee. With a wail, Sun Lang collapsed.

The black figure followed relentlessly.

Damn it, are they out to kill me? Who are they?

All sorts of gods and spirits flashed through Sun Lang’s mind.

He swung with all his might.

Bang!

With another cry, Sun Lang fell headlong.

He gasped for breath, watching the shadow flit away, the smell of dried lamb lingering in the air.

“It’s Yang Xuan, it must be him!”

Sun Lang gritted his teeth, trying to move, but his internal injuries were too severe.

Not far off, a young woman’s voice rang out.

“For forging iron, charcoal is used in the furnace. Coal ranks seventeen, wood charcoal thirteen. In places with no coal, smiths burn hardwood into carbon, which burns hotter than coal. There is also a special iron charcoal, valued for its intense, focused heat, similar in shape to cooking charcoal but of a different class. How can the Sunyu clan not know this? Useless scrap iron—had I known, I wouldn’t have come tonight.”

“What…” Sun Lang spat a mouthful of blood.

An expert—a colleague!

Outside the wall, Old Thief changed his voice.

“Time to play the lady,” he said.

Yang Xuan sighed, “Let’s try cross-dressing for once.”

…

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