Chapter Seventeen: An Yuan

Cui Xiu lightly flicked his longsword and turned his face; it truly was Wu Yu’s pageboy.

He hesitated briefly, then reached out to touch—relief washed over him. The boy was warm. The short rod in his hand revealed not the slightest ripple; clearly, nothing was amiss.

Cui Xiu shifted his attention to the pageboy. Unless something unexpected had occurred, the boy should have been with Wu Yu in the Liu family village. Even if trouble had arisen, it was odd for him to appear here alone.

After all, the boy was alive, and Cui Xiu had met him once before. Moreover, the pageboy looked only twelve or thirteen. Cui Xiu could not bring himself to be so cold-hearted.

After some thought, he chose not to carry the boy with him. Instead, he moved the unconscious pageboy to the base of a nearby tree and propped him up.

He carefully checked the boy’s condition—nothing serious, the breathing was steady enough.

It wasn’t long before the boy seemed to recover his breath and finally opened his eyes in confusion.

“You’re awake?”

Cui Xiu had been watching the whole time, and as soon as the pageboy opened his eyes, he noticed.

“Master Cui...!”

The pageboy was still dazed, but upon hearing Cui Xiu’s voice and seeing his face, he became instantly agitated.

“Easy now, don’t rush. Whatever you have to say, take your time. I haven’t the leisure to wait for you to wake up again,” Cui Xiu quickly interrupted, raising a hand.

The pageboy must have run far, and his body could not take it—hence, when he saw Cui Xiu, excitement had caused him to faint.

Cui Xiu had already witnessed one such episode and had no desire for a repeat to delay them further.

Hearing this, the pageboy paused, not quite grasping the situation. Soon, though, he surveyed his surroundings, understanding a bit more, and let out a bitter laugh.

After all, Wu Yu was a scholar of some standing. As Wu Yu’s pageboy, he naturally possessed more knowledge and maturity than most boys his age.

Once he came to terms with his situation, the pageboy ceased his alarm, steadied his breath, and bowed respectfully to Cui Xiu. “I am Wu Xiu, Master Cui. Many thanks for your assistance.”

He was, after all, educated and well-mannered; this lifted Cui Xiu’s mood considerably.

Cui Xiu nodded slightly and asked, “Wu Xiu, weren’t you with your master? Why do you look so bedraggled? What has happened to Master Wu Yu?”

Though Cui Xiu had his suspicions, having guessed that Wu Yu encountered trouble in the Liu family village, he did not know the full story. He refrained from mentioning the village directly and simply questioned Wu Xiu.

“It’s a long story...”

Wu Xiu turned pale at the question, a flash of dread in his eyes, but soon recovered and explained with a wry smile.

As it turned out, Cui Xiu’s guess was correct—Wu Yu and his party had indeed run into trouble at the Liu family village. However, it was not as the old woman had described; the villagers were not outright bandits—most of the fault lay with Wu Yu himself.

According to Wu Xiu, after the three of them left that night, they went to the Liu family village. The villagers, while not friendly, did them no harm. The village head even provided them shelter.

Had things proceeded thus, they would have spent a night in peace. Yet, as fate would have it, the villagers were holding a ceremony to worship a deity. For some reason, this deity became aware of Wu Yu’s presence, recognized him as a scholar, and suddenly issued a divine command: Wu Yu was to be sacrificed.

The village head, having learned Wu Yu’s identity, did not wish to offend him and invite disaster. He advised Wu Yu to leave with his companions that very night.

However, Wu Yu refused. He believed that “a gentleman does not speak of ghosts and spirits,” and that, as a scholar, his upright spirit would protect him from any supernatural harm.

He even tried to persuade the village head not to worship the deity, claiming such an evil god should not exist in the world.

What happened next was predictable. As mere mortals, Wu Yu, accompanied only by a servant and a pageboy, was no match for the deity. All three were soon restrained by the villagers.

As for why Wu Xiu was here, Cui Xiu himself had a role—though that was his own deduction, not Wu Xiu’s account.

Wu Xiu said that for some reason, many of the village’s strongmen had left. Being small and slight, and with the help of the servant, he managed to escape. He had fled for who knew how long before encountering Cui Xiu.

Truly, for one so young to have passed the provincial exams—Wu Yu was no ordinary prodigy.

After hearing the story, Cui Xiu could not help but sigh. Had it been him, he would have heeded the village head’s advice and left immediately, not meddling in such affairs.

“There’s little I can do about such matters,” Cui Xiu said after a moment’s thought. “I’m nothing more than a frail scholar myself. If you wish to save your master, you’ll have to rely on the authorities.”

He had intended to report the matter himself, but now, with Wu Xiu, things would be simpler. That, at least, was fortunate.

“You are right, Master Cui. I was simply too flustered earlier,” Wu Xiu replied.

Wu Xiu had certainly thought of seeking help from the authorities. Yet, in his desperation to escape, he could think of nothing else. Seeing Cui Xiu, his plea for help had been instinctive.

Now that he had calmed down, even without Cui Xiu’s prompting, he knew what needed to be done.

Cui Xiu saw that Wu Xiu had come to his senses and nodded. Then, with a slight change in tone, he hinted, “The Wu family is well known in Anyuan. With your master in such peril, if you alone return, you’re bound to face some blame. When you see Master Wu in Anyuan, perhaps you should consider how you recount today’s events.”

Wu Xiu was momentarily taken aback, then understood, his expression growing more complex.

Cui Xiu said no more, letting the matter rest.

“Are you able to walk?” he asked.

Wu Xiu collected himself and nodded. “I’ll manage.”

...

Anyuan County.

At the city gates, Cui Xiu and Wu Xiu, both in disheveled attire, were stopped by the guards.

It was not that the guards were especially diligent, but the pair’s bedraggled appearance was simply too suspicious.

It was fortunate that Cui Xiu had long since discarded his iron sword, else he would have drawn even more attention.

Luckily, Cui Xiu always kept his travel pass close at hand to avoid losing it. Though his bundle was gone, he could still prove his identity.

“So you’re a licentiate...” the guard remarked after checking the pass and scrutinizing Cui Xiu’s face, softening his manner. Of course, this was partly because Cui Xiu was so young—a scholar’s prospects were valued more than the title itself.

But before the guard could finish, Wu Xiu, who had been in a daze for much of the journey, suddenly stepped forward. Cui Xiu had not expected to rely on him during the questioning, not knowing what Wu Xiu intended to do.