Chapter Forty-Five: Little Fox Fang Nuo

Long Tianfeng could not comprehend his uncle’s decision at all. Was it possible that funds had run out and he was too embarrassed to ask me for help? The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed, but such words were difficult to voice. He could only persuade, “Uncle, are you uncomfortable staying at my place? Now that you’re here in Wucheng, I’ll take care of everything—you needn’t lower yourself to go to the Liu mansion.”

Mu Qingcang realized that Long Tianfeng had misunderstood and hurried to explain with a smile, “Tianfeng, it’s not as you think. I’m entering the Liu mansion for the sake of Xiao Wu. You’ve seen the child yourself. Years ago, I wandered the martial world and met his father; we became sworn brothers. But my brother met with disaster, and when I arrived, I could only save Xiao Wu. As for the details of his family, I’d rather not speak.”

At this point, Mu Qingcang gave a bitter smile. “Since Xiao Wu witnessed the deaths of his parents and kin at the age of five, he’s become like this—cold and silent all day, increasingly violent. To soothe his anger, I took him to meditate in the mountains for three years, but it was fruitless; even the mountain’s livestock suffered. There was nothing for it but to descend. For over two years, I’ve taken him everywhere, hoping the bustle of the world might draw him out, lessen his hatred. Alas, five or six years have passed, and his resentment has only grown heavier. If this continues, I fear one day hatred will blind him completely—and he’ll do something irrevocable. Should that day come, how will I face my brother in the afterlife?”

Now Long Tianfeng understood that Xiao Wu’s life was tragic; it was no wonder the child had become as he was. If his uncle’s visit to the Liu mansion was for Xiao Wu’s sake, then perhaps…

Indeed, Mu Qingcang continued, “When I saw that child in the street, I found her clever and endearing. If Xiao Wu could spend time with her, perhaps she might unlock his heart. After all, children connect more easily with each other. Though I am Xiao Wu’s adoptive father and he respects me, there’s always a distance between us.”

These words rang true. Long Tianfeng had met the young lady of the Liu mansion twice; she was sharp as snow and jade. He nodded, “Uncle, since you say so, leave this matter to me. Rest assured, I’ll handle it perfectly.”

“That is excellent,” Mu Qingcang replied.

After some idle conversation, the two returned to their rooms to rest.

Meanwhile, Liu Qin was still in her room reflecting on her actions. After returning home, the old matron was furious and immediately ordered her to be taken to the ancestral hall to kneel in punishment. Though Master Liu rushed back in time to intervene, the old matron’s anger was unstoppable; Liu Qin was made to kneel in the main hall for half an hour, with no exceptions for pleas. Even Jiang Li, injured, had to accompany her in punishment, and her knees still ached.

The five servants—Changxing and the others—were spared punishment due to their severe injuries. A physician was summoned, and mercifully, the wounds were superficial, not affecting bones or tendons; ten days or so of rest would suffice. Changxing and Changsheng were the worst off; the old matron relieved them of duties and instructed Steward Fu to send young servants to care for them. As for Jiang Li, he was to have a new attendant as well, but the boy they’d saved—Fang Nuo—insisted on staying in the Ink Fragrance Pavilion, claiming he could care for the young master. The old matron, seeing his pitiable state, agreed.

Liu Qin lay on her bed, sometimes feeling guilt over Jiang Li and the others’ injuries, sometimes seething with anger at Fang Yiming’s arrogance. She could only swallow this bitter loss for now—just wait until she grew older!

From this incident, Liu Qin realized that merely having a sense of justice was useless, not only failing to solve anything but also bringing trouble upon oneself. To do good, one needed the ability; before gaining it, it was wiser to be cautious, even if the phrase sounded unpleasant—it promised longevity.

As for ability, it couldn’t be rushed; it must be cultivated over time. With this resolve, Liu Qin no longer felt vexed. After all, she was still young, and the saying went, “A gentleman waits ten years to avenge a wrong.”

To express her remorse and soothe the old matron’s anger, Liu Qin decided from the following day to be an obedient child. She took leave from the academy and spent mornings with the old matron, listening to her recite scripture and chant Buddhist texts—occasionally dozing off, claiming it was to purify her heart. In the afternoons, she went to the Ink Fragrance Pavilion to do odd jobs, acting as Jiang Li’s little handmaid and sidekick, fetching water and tea, then visiting Changxing and Changsheng to check on their recovery—a form of self-redemption.

As for being a little maid—who would truly dare treat her as one? Jiang Li might, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Having sacrificed himself for her, the hero rescuing the damsel, Jiang Li’s presence in Liu Qin’s heart soared even higher, with her affection for him “climbing rapidly” to new heights. Thus, he was pampered daily, often commanded to stay in bed and rest, forbidden from moving. Jiang Li could hardly stand it and protested, “Can’t I at least sit up?”

“No, Brother Ali, you’re still not healed.”

“It’s already healed, it’s nothing.”

“No, here, and here—still bruised.” As she spoke, she unabashedly lifted Jiang Li’s pant leg, pointing to the fading blue marks.

Jiang Li could only collapse on the couch, exasperated.

As for her sidekick, wasn’t there another? Liu Qin was adept at putting people and things to their best use—she would not let talent go to waste. Thus, conversations in the room often went like this:

“A Nuo, fetch me a glass of water.”

“A Nuo, some pastries.”

“A Nuo, take this to Changxing and the others.”

…

With his face scrubbed clean and dressed in fresh clothes, Fang Nuo turned out to be a handsome child. His beauty was different from Jiang Li’s—Jiang Li was upright and proper, while Fang Nuo’s was alluring and mischievous. Those peach blossom eyes would surely enchant many young girls when he grew up.

Just turned nine, Fang Nuo was classified by Liu Qin as a “crafty little fox,” and “employing” this fox became her daily amusement. Strangely, Fang Nuo was especially well-behaved in Liu Qin’s presence: sweet-tongued and quick-footed, often anticipating her needs before she spoke. Most remarkable was that, even after learning Liu Qin was a girl, he still called her “young master,” which delighted Liu Qin to no end. Who would have thought—little Fang Nuo was already a master at charming girls.

Asked why he was wandering alone, and if he had any family, Fang Nuo dropped his usual playful manner, gazing through the window into the distance. His voice remained clear and childlike, as if untouched by sorrow, yet both Liu Qin and Jiang Li sensed a maturity and desolation far beyond his years.

Fang Nuo’s hometown was north of the Han River. His father was a clerk for a merchant family. Back then, Fang Nuo was still young and his mother was healthy; living on his father’s modest income, the family was happy. Soon after, his mother fell ill for unknown reasons, baffling even the physicians, and no remedy could be found. Despite spending much silver, her life could not be saved. After his mother passed, father and son were left with a large debt. To repay it, his father not only remained a clerk but also joined the merchant caravans. He promised that, after two more trips, he would return home and care for his son. But at the end of last year, his father and the entire caravan vanished without a trace.