Chapter 80: Idyllic Tales of a Midsummer Estate

The morning breeze carried fresh, moist air, invigorating the spirit with every deep breath. Lu Liao, brushing aside his usual air of decadence, wore a radiant smile, cradled the charming Xi Hua in his arms, and gently nudged his horse’s belly. The steed, Black Cloud Over Snow, thundered forward, its long mane flying, leaving Zhou Liuzi and the others far behind.

Pei Wuniang rode alongside, holding the excited and curious Bai Liangqi. When Lu Liao was nearly out of sight ahead, she looked at Zhou Liuzi, who rode next to her, with disdain and pouted.

“What’s so great about my senior brother? He’s fickle and sentimental, lacks any real manly spirit, and yet every woman around him is breathtaking.”

Zhou Liuzi thought for a while, and looked at Pei Wuniang seriously, “I don’t know.”

On the road to the manor, Pei Wuniang spoke no more to Zhou Liuzi.

August’s fields shone emerald, lush and dripping with vitality. The sound of cicadas and frogs filled the air, not annoying but instead weaving a peculiar rhythm, bringing tranquility and satisfaction.

Under the shade of trees before the manor, Black Cloud Over Snow lay lazily on the grass, its tail occasionally swatting at insects. Lu Liao and Gu Xi Hua, however, were nowhere to be seen.

Listening to the voices of children reading from within the manor, Pei Wuniang pouted, tied her horse to a tree, and grumbled, “That untrustworthy senior brother! Promised to bring us here for a stroll, but now he’s abandoned us, dashed off so fast we can’t even see his shadow.”

Zhou Liuzi, expressionless, led the indignant Pei Wuniang and Bai Liangqi into the manor, glancing around—no one in sight. From a side pavilion, the voice of a young boy drifted out. They followed the sound.

Zheng Hui, about twelve or thirteen, stood on a platform, looking mature beyond his years, earnestly recounting the story of Mencius’ mother moving three times to a crowd of twenty-odd children. He glanced at Zhou Liuzi and the others out of the corner of his eye, then continued as if he hadn’t noticed them.

Bai Liangqi snorted with contempt.

“What are you laughing at?” A child of seven or eight jeered at Bai Liangqi, angering Zheng Hui.

“I’m laughing at you, acting all pretentious, telling useless stories,” Bai Liangqi replied arrogantly.

“Ignorant brat, speaking nonsense. I can’t be bothered with you,” Zheng Hui retorted coldly, waving his sleeve and turning away.

“If one doesn’t recognize evil as evil, how can one know good as good? Mencius’ mother, seeing other children misbehaving, didn’t correct or teach but only took her child away. Such upbringing raises a child who can’t face reality, living only in an ideal world, and his theories are grand but empty, useless,” Bai Liangqi declared, hands on hips, shaking his head.

“How dare you slander the Mother of the Second Sage! Whose disciple are you, to speak so boldly?” Zheng Hui’s face flushed with anger, pointing at Bai Liangqi.

“I am Bai Liangqi, heir of Ghost Valley. What, you want to settle this by force?” Bai Liangqi faced the older Zheng Hui without fear.

“Bah! Anything Lu Liao teaches won’t turn out well,” Zheng Hui said scornfully.

“How dare you insult people!” Bai Liangqi shouted, pointing at Zheng Hui.

“I did! What are you going to do about it?” Zheng Hui retorted, hands on hips, looming over Bai Liangqi.

“Dare for a duel?” Bai Liangqi challenged.

“Not afraid of you!” Zheng Hui sneered at the little rascal before him.

The group of twenty children erupted in excitement, crowding around the two as they rushed out of the room.

Pei Wuniang watched, amused, but when things seemed to go awry, she tried to intervene. Zhou Liuzi stopped her, shaking his head gently.

“If anything happens, I’m not responsible,” Pei Wuniang said sulkily.

“A boy who doesn’t fight isn’t much of a man,” Zhou Liuzi managed a rare smile.

“Come on, let’s follow and see,” Pei Wuniang’s stance shifted instantly, excitement lighting her face.

Suddenly, the angry neigh of Black Cloud Over Snow echoed outside the manor. Pei Wuniang and Zhou Liuzi exchanged glances and dashed out.

Under the shade of trees beyond the manor, a tall, robust young man stood, eager to confront Black Cloud Over Snow. Behind him, a young man and woman dressed as Daoists watched, grinning, making no attempt to intervene.

Pei Wuniang, furious, sprang forward and swept his legs out from under him. The young man, caught off guard, crashed to the ground, seeing stars.

“Outside Chang’an, beneath the emperor’s eyes, you dare steal horses in broad daylight, you scoundrel! I’ll tie you up and take you to the magistrate,” she declared.

Zhou Liuzi recognized the two Daoists—Gu Ye and Geshu Xiaoye—and realized it was most likely a misunderstanding. He was about to greet them when Geshu Xiaoye waved her hand, mocking the young man, “To think you’re the bravest in the Hexi Army, and yet a young woman knocks you flat. My father sent you to protect me? You’re embarrassing the Hexi Army.”

The young man jumped up, face red, pointing at Pei Wuniang, “If it weren’t for this woman’s sneak attack, I, Li Sheng, wouldn’t be so easily beaten.”

“Oh, you still won’t admit defeat? Come, I’ll let you use one hand, and still take you down!” Pei Wuniang declared boldly.

“Hmph! I, Li Sheng, am a man. I wouldn’t bully a weak woman,” Li Sheng said, arms crossed, head held high.

“You dare look down on me? Come, let’s have a proper contest. If I lose, I’m yours. Dare you accept?” Pei Wuniang’s temper flared, disregarding everything else.

Li Sheng sized her up disdainfully, shook his head, “With your delicate looks, hurting you wouldn’t be good. Let’s forget it.”

“Then let’s compete in archery—no excuses there,” Pei Wuniang glanced at Li Sheng’s robust build and, unsure of beating him in close combat, chose her strongest skill.

Li Sheng burst out laughing, pointing at his own nose, “Are you sure you want to compete in archery with me? You swear the wager is real?”

Li Sheng came from a military family and joined the army at eighteen, serving under the Hexi governor Wang Zhongsi against Tibetans. Standing six feet tall, renowned for his strength and archery, he once slew a Tibetan champion with a single arrow. This naïve young woman wanted to compete with him in archery—she was practically handing herself to him.

Pei Wuniang lifted her chin, answering proudly, “Of course it’s real. What if you lose?”

Li Sheng stroked his chin, delighted with the slender, beautiful girl before him. She was natural, straightforward, skilled in martial arts, nothing like those pampered noble ladies—a wife tailor-made for him.

“If I lose, I, Li Sheng, am yours, and I won’t go back on my word,” he agreed happily.

“Good!” Pei Wuniang replied briskly, pointing to a willow tree seventy paces away, “Let’s see who can shoot down more willow branches.”

The three watching were stunned, their jaws dropping. With such a wager, win or lose, after just meeting, these two would end up together regardless.

Ignoring their odd expressions, Pei Wuniang addressed them solemnly, “You three are witnesses. Whoever shoots down more branches from that tree wins.”

After finishing, she ran to her horse, took her bow and arrows, and drew. Nine arrows in succession, each one severed a willow branch.

Li Sheng raised his long bow, then put it down. Shooting willow branches was easy for him, but firing nine arrows in quick succession, each hitting its mark, was beyond him.

He walked dejectedly to Pei Wuniang and murmured, “Is this the Nine-Star Linked Arrows technique of General Pei Min?”

Pei Wuniang smiled triumphantly, “General Pei Min is my grandfather. Now, do you still dare look down on women?”

Li Sheng looked up and laughed heartily, “I, Li Sheng, am utterly convinced. From today, I am yours, Pei Wuniang. Whatever you command, I’ll never refuse.”

“You must listen to everything I say,” Pei Wuniang smiled, her face radiant.

Meanwhile, by the stream behind the manor, Bai Liangqi and Zheng Hui were surrounded by children. When all were in place, a serious-faced child raised his hand and shouted, “The contest begins!”

Before Zheng Hui could react, Bai Liangqi’s small figure flashed, and pain shot through his nose. He saw stars and sat down hard. Touching his nose, his hand came away bloody.

“A feeble scholar dares to challenge me?” Bai Liangqi sneered, triumphant.

Humiliated and enraged, Zheng Hui struggled to attack Bai Liangqi again. Another sturdy boy his age grabbed him.

“Let me try!” The boy believed Bai Liangqi had only won by surprise.

Though Bai Liangqi had only practiced the Seven Yin Manuals for half a year, he was not someone ordinary children could match. Despite the boy’s aggressive posture, Bai Liangqi swiftly landed a punch on his nose, blood streaming.

All twenty children gasped, staring at Bai Liangqi in awe and a hint of fear.

“Anyone else?” Bai Liangqi boasted, looking around as if he were an invincible master.

“Everyone, get him!” Zheng Hui shouted, leading the charge.

By a secluded spot along the stream, dense with grass and trees, Lu Liao let out a low growl, slipping off Xi Hua’s fair body, lying in the shallow stream, gasping for breath.

“How does the taste of summer streamwater compare to the haystack in the valley?” Xi Hua’s cheeks were flushed, her body soft against Lu Liao, teasing him with a smile.

“You little temptress, I’ll die from you someday,” Lu Liao replied weakly.

“Ha! You’ll die beautifully,” Xi Hua laughed softly, helping Lu Liao up and gently wiping his body clean with a towel.

The two lovers, tender and unhurried, walked back to the manor, hearing shouts from the children by the stream. As they approached, they saw a dozen children pinning Bai Liangqi to the ground, beating him, while the girls cheered them on.

Lu Liao stared, watching Xi Hua pull Bai Liangqi up, his nose swollen and face bruised. He wondered how the boy had managed to anger the manor’s children enough to be beaten by all of them together.