Chapter Thirty-Five: Returning Home in Glory, Hearing Dire News
“I have no money, and I value my life even less,” Zhou Liuzi replied with blunt candor, gazing steadily at Lu Liaoliao. He had come to terms with his fate—if he could not die a decent death, then he would stubbornly cling to life, doing whatever it took to survive.
“Aren’t you supposed to be a top-tier assassin?” Lu Liaoliao’s eyes brimmed with doubt as she looked at him. “How could you be so poor?”
“You know what it means to be an assassin. Our lives are lived one day at a time; no one knows when their end will come, quietly and without warning. So, before every mission, I make sure to spend all my money—drink the finest wine, visit the most lavish brothels, sleep with the most sought-after courtesans.” Zhou Liuzi’s tone was detached, as though he spoke of someone else entirely.
Lu Liaoliao stared at him, her gaze filled with a hint of envy. “Have you ever been to Chengdu? Did you sleep with the most famous courtesan there?”
Zhou Liuzi stood tall, answering with pride, “Of course I have. At the House of Blossoms on Qibao Street, you can’t even catch a glance from Miss Little Red without spending at least several hundred taels. Such a beauty, brimming with charm, yet she spent three days and nights with me.”
Lu Liaoliao was silent for a long moment; it seemed Zhou Liuzi’s idea of luxury was not as grand as he claimed. “Not bad, not bad. Still, you’re better than that bumpkin, Boss Hu. But if you’re so generous, why did you come into conflict with him and his crew over a bit of boat fare?”
“How could I, Zhou Liuzi, quarrel over mere boat fare? Boss Hu saw the valuable jade pendant on me and got greedy, that’s why trouble started,” Zhou Liuzi replied with a sneer.
“What kind of jade pendant? Let me see,” Lu Liaoliao asked, feigning indifference.
Zhou Liuzi fumbled at his waist with his left hand, undid the cord, and tossed the pendant to her.
She caught it and examined it—a piece no larger than half a palm, yet pure white and lustrous, almost glowing with a translucent clarity. Clearly, it was a rare and precious gem. Without hesitation, Lu Liaoliao tied it to her own belt. She was about to return home, a scholar and county tribute student; how could she face anyone without a fine piece of jade at her waist?
Zhou Liuzi was dumbfounded. Was this what she meant by “let me see”?
Feeling slightly embarrassed under his gaze, Lu Liaoliao said shamelessly, “I’ll borrow this for now. Once you’ve paid off your debts, I’ll return it to you.”
Giving a meat bun to a dog—who ever expects to get it back? Zhou Liuzi was speechless, his face darkening with frustration.
Lu Liaoliao toyed with the jade pendant, not bothering to look at him. “Now, let me ask—who exactly is this Young Master Luo, and why did you try to assassinate him?”
Zhou Liuzi replied irritably, “He wanted to tell you himself, but you wouldn’t listen. Now you ask me?”
“What do you know! If he hadn’t been so eager to tell me himself, I would have asked. Clearly, he wanted to drag me into trouble. Curiosity can kill, you know. But now that he’s disappeared, it’s much safer to ask.”
Lu Liaoliao flicked open her folding fan and swayed her waist, the jade at her belt swaying with it, thoroughly pleased with herself.
Zhou Liuzi could only admire her. What kind of monster had produced such a creature at this age? He smiled. “You’re shrewd, always weighing risks. But even if you ask now, I have no answers. We assassins know only our target, nothing more.”
Seeing Zhou Liuzi’s gloating expression, Lu Liaoliao itched to give him a beating. But how could Master Lu stoop so low? Besides, Zhou Liuzi’s cooking was extraordinary; lately, Lady Tang praised his food endlessly. She dared not injure him lightly.
With a dismissive wave, she shooed Zhou Liuzi away as one would a fly.
When the boat reached Yangzhou, she ignored Boss Hu’s heartbroken sobs and, with a wave, ordered Zhou Liuzi to sell the vessel for whatever he could get. In Yangzhou, she bought two carriages, a mountain of gifts, and all the necessities for her upcoming wedding, preparing to return home in style.
Boss Hu truly shaved his head, becoming a driver with nothing left to live for, unable to meet Lu Liaoliao’s gaze. Was this damned young man a demon from the underworld? Not only was he spending his money, but even the boat his late father left was sold off as just payment on the interest. Who knew how much more he’d owe? His life was ruined.
Under the sunlight, Golden Water Town was as peaceful and harmonious as ever. Under the old pagoda tree at the town’s entrance, a few idle elders sipped coarse tea, passing the time in the shade. An old yellow dog lay sprawled on the ground, tongue lolling, its eyes wide as it watched the two carriages roll into town.
Wang Shouren, rubbing his belly, led a dainty little girl of about two or three, both making their way slowly toward the town’s only tavern. Hearing the clatter of hooves, he quickly stepped aside.
The carriage stopped beside him, and a richly dressed young scholar alighted, fanning himself with a folding fan, protruding his barely substantial belly, and showing off a fine jade pendant at his waist, his manner all ostentation.
Wang Shouren cursed inwardly. “Bah! One day I’ll buy a fine piece like that myself and look better than you without even trying.” But his wife, Little Lotus, had seized control of the family purse soon after their marriage—even his father had to listen to her. Owning such a gem was a pipe dream.
“Fat Wang, where did you steal such a pretty little girl? How dare you parade her about in broad daylight?”
Wang Shouren bristled in anger. “This is my own child! Can’t a fat man have a beautiful daughter?” He was about to retort when he saw the familiar, grinning face and broke into a wide smile. “Well, look who it is! Only you, Brother Liaoliao, would dare tease me so in Golden Water Town. You’re finally back!”
Lu Liaoliao had been showing off for ages, only now recognized by this damned fatty. Still, the joy of seeing an old companion from their youth swept away all other feelings.
“This little one looks so much like your wife, Little Lotus. So you finally got your wish, eh?”
“Heh, heh, she married me four years ago. Not only did she give me this lovely daughter, but we also have a chubby son over a year old now.” Wang Shouren beamed with pride.
Lu Liaoliao refused to be outdone. Lifting the curtain, she helped Tang Xiaoqi out. “This is my wife, Tang Xiaoqi. Come greet your sister-in-law!”
Little Lotus was famed as the most beautiful girl in the region, but being a hunter’s daughter, she could not compare to Tang Xiaoqi in looks or bearing—a chicken beside a phoenix. Wang Shouren was nearly dumbstruck with awe, his admiration for Lu Liaoliao growing. No wonder he was the leader of the Golden Water Town Five Tigers.
Having attended school, Wang Shouren knew some manners. He bowed slightly to Tang Xiaoqi. “Wang Shouren pays respects to Sister-in-law.”
Still unmarried to Lu Liaoliao, Tang Xiaoqi blushed deeply and managed only a timid return of the courtesy.
“Ha! What’s there to be shy about? We’re almost home; once you’ve met my father, the wedding will follow. Wang’s only calling you sister-in-law a few days early.” Lu Liaoliao laughed triumphantly.
Wang Shouren’s expression changed. He pulled Lu Liaoliao aside, hesitated, and finally said, “Brother Liaoliao, your father passed away a few years ago.”
“What did you say?” Lu Liaoliao shouted in disbelief, startling Tang Xiaoqi, who was playing with the little girl.
Wang Shouren’s lips trembled. “Remember when the town was troubled by thieves? Aunt Zhao didn’t see either of you at the market the next day. She went to your house, found the door open, and your father lying stiff in the dining room. On the floor, written in blood, was: ‘If I die, bury me in the peach grove behind the town.’”
Lu Liaoliao clutched his head, his body buckling as he sank to the ground. “Impossible, impossible. His wound was bandaged, his medical skill was unmatched—how could he die? I don’t believe it!”
“The county coroner examined him—no other injuries, just a knife wound to the abdomen. He died of internal bleeding,” Wang Shouren explained quietly.
Suddenly, Lu Liaoliao bolted toward her old home. The official seal on the door had long since been battered by wind and rain, barely recognizable. She shoved the door open in defiance. Inside, dust lay thick, and cobwebs covered the apothecary cabinets—no one had entered in years. The herb garden was overgrown with wildflowers and weeds, all the doors tightly closed. Lu Liaoliao slumped to the ground, tears streaming silently down her face. She couldn’t bring herself to enter the dining room.
Wang Shouren took his daughter to the tavern to his wife, Little Lotus, sighed deeply, and eventually returned to Lu Liaoliao’s house.
Tang Xiaoqi and the little nun quietly tidied the rooms. Boss Hu worked hard weeding the yard. Zhou Liuzi was sent to buy incense, candles, and mourning cloth. Little Monk Wuhua chanted sutras at the dining room door to lay the soul to rest.
Lu Liaoliao, eyes red from weeping, saw Wang Shouren enter and grabbed him. “Tell me what happened next.”
“The county magistrate said it was the work of thieves—offered a reward, but the culprit was never caught. Aunt Zhao was relentless, even appealed to your grandfather, the imperial physician. She insisted they find you and bring the killer to justice. The magistrate had no choice but to send men to search for you everywhere.”
Lu Liaoliao, knowing full well who the murderer was, felt a suffocating weight in her chest, yet had nowhere to vent it.
“The next day, while foraging in the woods, Little Lotus found a bloodstained cloth by the stream. On it, written in blood, were the words: ‘The killer is the Lady Thief, she took me to Heaven’s Gate Mountain Stronghold.’ The magistrate dared not delay—he took all his constables and twenty militia and set off for the stronghold.”