17. An Uninvited Guest (1)

All the way, Wanwan kept calling her benefactor, benefactor, so much so that Fu Ruirui’s head felt three sizes too big. She shot a fierce glare at her so-called 'benefactor.'
“Miss, have we met before?” Zong Yinyang’s smile never wavered, as if he hadn’t noticed Fu Ruirui’s look of disdain.
“And what benefit would there be in meeting you?” Fu Ruirui looped her arm through Wanwan’s.
“I am simply curious, Miss, as to why your gaze keeps drifting my way, half-hidden as it is.”
“You…” Fu Ruirui’s face flushed red, anxious to correct his mistaken idea yet unable to find the words.
“I’m perfectly fine.” She deliberately said it just to spite him.
“Wanwan, hurry up! Aren’t you hungry? Let’s go to your house!” Embarrassed, Fu Ruirui nearly dragged Wanwan along at a run.

After much tugging and pulling, they finally reached the general’s residence by dusk. Wanwan hesitated.
“Wanwan, why aren’t you going in?” Fu Ruirui reached forward to pull her across the threshold.
“Halt!” The general’s mansion was not to be entered lightly; after all, its master served the emperor himself.
As the guard stopped them, Wanwan wondered if her master no longer wanted her.
“Hey? She’s Wanwan, your housemaid,” Fu Ruirui blurted out impulsively.
The three men behind them had by now lagged far behind, strolling at their own leisurely pace.
“I’ll go announce you,” the guard said.

“Yueyang, Wanwan’s come back!” Xueqing rushed up, her voice arriving before she did.
Pan Yueyang put down the porcelain bottle he’d been admiring. “Oh?”
His tone delighted Xueqing; it wasn’t as joyful or eager as she’d imagined it might be.
She stepped forward. “Yueyang, I’ll see to it that Wanwan gets some rest,” Xueqing said, noticing Pan Yueyang made no move to go out himself.
“Send word to Mubai—no need to worry now.” Pan Yueyang picked up the bottle again, examining it closely.
“That boy’s surely already off clinging to Wanwan,” Xueqing said with a rare smile, her spirits inexplicably high today.

Perhaps it was because Wanwan had returned and everyone’s heart was at ease. Pan Yueyang glanced at the cheerful Xueqing. She was always like this: gentle, virtuous, understanding him without guile or seduction. Even on the battlefield she was no less than any man.

Quietly withdrawing, Xueqing’s mood soared. “Fenghe, get ready for your lady to bathe, and keep the supper warm,” she ordered as she passed through the servants’ quarters.

“Wanwan, where have you been these past two days?!” Bai Li Mubai, utterly confused, questioned her the moment he saw her.
“Mubai!” Wanwan still liked him best here.
“Let me see if you’re hurt,” he said, tugging at her sleeve.
Wanwan, a little embarrassed, quickly pulled her arm back. “Mubai, look, she’s here too,” she said, pushing the now-silent Fu Ruirui forward.
“Is this Miss Mo Qing?” Mubai eyed the two women. Wearing that bright red dress, it was hard not to recognize her.
“Yes! And more besides!” She turned and gestured to the three men, who’d been keeping their distance, just as one might beckon a puppy.
Are we your pets? Yu and Ming pouted, but since their young master didn’t mind, neither would they.
Bai Li Mubai was dumbfounded. Wanwan really did stir things up, returning with so many ‘friends.’
“Come in, then.” Embarrassed, Mubai led the way.

Thus, with Mubai in front, the group followed. Their destination was Pan Yueyang’s study—a guest couldn’t just play the fool in his senior’s house, after all!
Hearing unfamiliar footsteps outside—some chaotic, some steady with strong internal strength—Pan Yueyang put away the porcelain bottle.

Knock, knock, knock.
“Senior brother.”
“Come in.” The lamps throughout the residence were being lit; though it was not yet dark, the candles in the study made it bright as day.

As soon as they entered, surprisingly, it was Zong Yinyang who spoke first.
“We meet again,” he said, unhurried, his tone as nonchalant as ever.
Mubai pursed his lips, glancing at Wanwan.
“Since you are friends of my concubine, please, take a seat.” With a gesture, he himself sat in the host’s place.
Of the three men, only Zong Yinyang took a seat; the other two remained standing beside him.
“When traveling, there’s no need for master-servant formalities,” Pan Yueyang remarked, betraying nothing in his expression.
“Haha, the general has a keen eye. I am Yinyang, accompanied by Yu and Ming, out for a leisurely stroll,” Zong Yinyang replied, ignoring the invitation for his companions to sit. “I’ve long heard of the famed beauty in your household, and seeing her in person, Miss Wanwan truly is as lovely as the rumors say.”
Wanwan had been here not even a month. Pan Yueyang simply smiled, waiting for him to continue.
As expected, Zong Yinyang went on, “I was idly exploring one day when I stumbled by chance into a thieves’ den and happened to see two young beauties trapped there. Having already met General Pan’s beloved once before, the memory stuck with me.”
Indeed, the phrase “stuck with me” made Pan Yueyang’s eyes grow cold—a hint of killing intent. How dare you covet my woman?
“I searched for my beloved for two days with no trace. Thanks to all of you for the rescue. I’ll have men dispatched immediately to root out those criminals!” Pan Yueyang looked to Wanwan. Trapped?
“We were kept underground in the dark, cold and hungry, afraid even to speak…” Wanwan grew quieter, her grievances difficult to express.
“I fear both young ladies suffered greatly,” Zong Yinyang said, his gaze full of pity as he looked at Wanwan.
Wanwan shook her hands quickly, “No, no, they didn’t beat us. Ruirui and I were just very hungry. When they were upstairs, we didn’t dare say a word, but we did sleep a lot, only the ground was too hard and cold.”
Fu Ruirui rolled her eyes. Sleep? Was that really sleeping?

“I must trouble the General with one last matter,” Zong Yinyang said, looking suggestively at Wanwan.
“What is it?” Pan Yueyang asked coolly, now reassured that Wanwan had not been harmed beyond confinement.
Even his questions were formal to the point of rigidity.
“Medical attention,” Zong Yinyang replied, eyeing the tea a maid had brought. “Bi Luo Chun—a fine tea.” He looked utterly relaxed.
Pan Yueyang and Bai Li Mubai both looked at Wanwan.
“Ah! Benefactor!” Suddenly, there was the sound of kneeling—it was none other than Fu Ruirui!
Zong Yinyang’s eyes nearly popped out of his head; it really was Fu Ruirui on her knees!
He had thought Wanwan was the focus, but here was Fu Ruirui suddenly stealing the scene. Where was the director when you needed one?

Bai Li Mubai, ever playful, teased, “Is Miss Mo Qing ill too?”
His look of disdain toward Fu Ruirui was open—did they take him for a fool? A pack of tricksters, now in league with Wanwan—what mischief were they plotting?
“Benefactor!” She tried to imitate Wanwan’s tone, and couldn’t help but sound a little ingratiating.
Wanwan was the last to catch on. “Ruirui, what’s wrong with you?”
“She’s lively enough—not much of a patient, I’d say. Most likely she was forced to obey those rascals for the sake of a few pills,” Zong Yinyang remarked, the sort who always spoiled the mystery by stating things plainly.
He could have at least kept up the pretense, Fu Ruirui thought, rolling her eyes inwardly. Still, for the sake of her own safety, she pressed on. “Benefactor, since you’re so skilled, why don’t you help me?”
Zong Yinyang ignored her, turning back to Pan Yueyang.
“It’s getting late,” Pan Yueyang said, making it clear he had no intention of hosting them overnight.
“Then let’s have supper and stay the night!” There are always people in the world like Bai Li Mubai—and Fu Ruirui was one of them.
Freeloading dinner was hardly a unique talent. Fu Ruirui grinned, seizing Wanwan’s arm as if they were the closest of friends.

“Xueqing,” Pan Yueyang called, not too loud nor too soft. Xueqing, waiting outside for instructions, entered at once. “Prepare dinner.”
Pan Yueyang was well aware that the man across from him was not just a bored scholar out for a stroll. Calm, elegant, and composed, he’d recounted the rescue with deliberate understatement, as if to say, I’m not afraid to speak, I just can’t be bothered.

Xueqing quickly arranged a sumptuous feast.

At the meal, Pan Yueyang sat at the head, Zong Yinyang, Yu, and Ming to his left, Bai Li Mubai, Xueqing, and Fu Ruirui to his right.
During the dinner, Wanwan, freshly bathed and dressed in green, entered the hall accompanied by Fenghe. Fenghe guided her to the seat beside Pan Yueyang; truth be told, if not for Fenghe’s tact, Wanwan herself would have had no idea where she was supposed to sit.
As she sat, Wanwan looked up at her master, feeling wronged, her small hand clutching the fabric of Pan Yueyang’s sleeve until she accidentally brushed his fingers. That familiar sense of security returned.
Pan Yueyang naturally took her hand. “If not for everyone’s help, my beloved would not have escaped danger so smoothly. My thanks.” He spoke with perfect courtesy.
“It was nothing,” Zong Yinyang replied with feigned ignorance, raising his cup.
Perhaps only Wanwan and Fu Ruirui were truly unaware of the undercurrents at the table.
Fu Ruirui pouted; if her own Bamboo were here, she wouldn’t have suffered so much. The world was indeed treacherous. Watching Wanwan and her man together, she couldn’t help but think of the one who always claimed to love her, yet had married another.

“Miss Fu seems troubled.” Some people just couldn’t resist kicking others when they’re down.
“Indeed, I am. Watching others paired off, my heart aches. Young master, why don’t you pair up with me?” The entire room turned sour with her challenge.
It was a provocation, pure and simple.
“Uh… I’ll drink to that!” Zong Yinyang replied, caught off guard.
“Hmph!” Fu Ruirui turned away, draining her wine in a single, fiery gulp.
“By the way, Miss Fu, where are you from?” Xueqing quickly broke the awkwardness.
“Yangzhou,” Fu Ruirui answered, her earlier bravado gone.
“How did you come to the capital? You never mention family, which I find curious.”
“Sister Xueqing, can we not talk about it?” Was she supposed to say she’d been abandoned and run away from home? How humiliating.
“I only wonder what you plan to do in the future,” Xueqing said, her concern genuine, but she had no intention of letting Fu Ruirui continue to freeload here.
“General! Oh, General, why not take me on as a maid?” Ruirui said suddenly, looking at Pan Yueyang.
One way or another, she needed a place to stay.
“Hahaha, Miss Fu, you are quite the joker,” Zong Yinyang interjected.
Forget it, she thought. She’d only said it on a whim. Ignoring his attempt to embarrass her, she picked up her chopsticks and began to eat—she hadn’t had a proper meal since being abducted.
Still, she truly had nowhere to go. She shot a pleading look at Wanwan, but the girl, wooden as ever, didn’t even glance her way.

“Master, I’m so hungry,” Wanwan said, blinking innocent eyes at the lavish spread before her.
Pan Yueyang picked up a piece of braised pork. “What do you call me?”
As the glistening meat neared, Wanwan swallowed hard. “Yueyang, I want…”
“Alright, don’t rush.” Before she could finish, he popped the meat into her mouth.
The others suddenly felt awkward. The exchange between these two was almost too forward. Throughout the meal, Pan Yueyang took care of Wanwan, picking dishes for her and even feeding her directly. At last, full and content after the recent ordeal, she leaned against his shoulder, drifting off to sleep as the others discussed topics she hardly understood.

Bai Li Mubai’s expression remained rather bleak. For one, he’d never been fond of girls, yet from the first moment he saw Wanwan, his heart had pounded, forcing him to play the clown to cover his agitation. Now, seeing Wanwan and his senior so affectionate, even a glutton could feel a burn of jealousy. For another, who exactly was Zong Yinyang? From his speech and the constant presence of his two companions, he was clearly someone significant—those two were among the best martial artists in the realm. Mubai couldn’t help but fret; his senior sister had been right to send word for him to come down from the mountain to assist. All his martial skills were useless without experience in the world—how deep and unfathomable the martial world was.

Xueqing barely touched her food, her mind busy. She could see the three visitors were no ordinary men. She was in the open while they were hidden, and seeing Yueyang and Wanwan so naturally attuned to each other only deepened her sadness.

Fu Ruirui was thoroughly quiet now, drinking and eating alone.
Zong Yinyang, inscrutable as ever, was already calculating the gains from this journey.
Yu and Ming, ever vigilant, barely ate, alert for any sign of trouble. From start to finish, their nerves were taut.

Of all those present, it was Wanwan who ate the most heartily. And now, full and satisfied, she curled up like a kitten against her man’s side and drifted into peaceful sleep.