Chapter 158: Sisi's True Appearance

Chapter 158: The True Face of Sisi

Tang Wanzhuang, ever graceful and composed, was perhaps for the first time in her life driven to a fury by a single sentence. Zhao Changhe watched helplessly as she grabbed the Longque saber from beside the bed, stormed out the door, kicked Tang Buqi over with a single blow, and used the saber like a paddle to smack his backside: "I told you to knock! I told you to call him uncle! Who told you he's your uncle!"

Tang Buqi screamed: "I was wrong, I was wrong! Auntie cares about face, he's not uncle, not uncle!"

Tang Wanzhuang fumed: "Who told you it's because I care about face?"

"I was wrong, Auntie doesn't care about face, doesn't care about face..."

"Smack, smack, smack..."

Amid Tang Buqi's cries, Zhao Changhe's mouth, which had been hanging open, finally closed.

What a genius. If you're not getting beaten, who is?

But somehow, it felt like this aunt had been bullying this nephew since childhood—so practiced...

He wanted to intervene but didn't know where to start, and what finally came out was: "Stop hitting him. You're not well yourself. What if you tire yourself out..."

Tang Buqi: "..."

I'm the one getting beaten, and you're worried about her? And you say you're not my uncle!

Tang Wanzhuang really did tire herself out from the beating. She planted the saber on the ground, panting and coughing: "Speak. What did your father say that made you barge in?"

"Father said that saber is most likely the Great Xia Longque, and Brother Zhao is probably..." Tang Buqi covered his head and cautiously glanced at his aunt: "So I came to verify. Now it seems there's no need."

Tang Wanzhuang was so furious she could barely breathe. She coughed violently for a long time, unable to speak.

Zhao Changhe couldn't help but wonder if her illness might have been caused by the idiots in her family...

He had to say: "Nephew... ah, Brother Tang, this saber is indeed the Longque. Please help keep it secret. Besides, wielding the Longque doesn't necessarily imply any particular identity. Your aunt uses it too, so don't let your imagination run wild..."

My aunt is the head of the Demon Suppression Bureau, connected to the Great Xia's vital energy. It's no surprise the Longque recognizes her. But who are you?

Tang Buqi felt he had a belly full of words he dared not say. Any word he spoke would earn him a beating, so better to say nothing.

Anyway, the saber is the Longque, and you're a prince. It's only natural for my aunt to be close to you. The family would be overjoyed. Why should I meddle? It's just my bad luck to suddenly have a younger uncle, and to be beaten by my stubborn aunt for it.

Tang Buqi was full of grievances. After a long pause, he finally said: "Few can recognize this saber. If my father doesn't speak, and I don't speak, others likely won't know either."

"Alright. I trust the Tang family knows how to handle this." Zhao Changhe sighed. "Come in and sit. What's all this fuss?"

Tang Wanzhuang glanced at him but said nothing. She wearily carried the saber back into the room and sat down at a low table.

Tang Buqi cautiously followed, his sore backside painfully settling onto the chair opposite.

"Brother Tang," Zhao Changhe suddenly called out.

The tone was somewhat formal, and Tang Buqi looked at him in surprise.

Zhao Changhe continued: "I understand a parent's anxiety when a daughter remains unmarried past a certain age. I understand the wish to find her a suitable match from a good family. I even understand the desire to seek some benefit for the clan through such a match. But Tang Wanzhuang is no ordinary woman. She not only supports this family, but she also supports this nation. The Tang family should not—and has no right—to force anything upon her."

Tang Buqi quickly said: "We didn't force her..."

Zhao Changhe acted as if he hadn't heard, continuing: "She is filial and kind-hearted. If it were me, a lawless rogue, I would have broken with the family long ago. And yet you all think you can decide her fate for her? Who do you think you are? Even if she were twenty-eight, or eighty-two, and chose not to marry, what business is it of yours?"

Tang Buqi: "..."

"Not to mention that I am not that person. Even if I were, I would refuse this kind of political marriage. Regardless of how you view that identity, I, Zhao Changhe, ask you, Brother Tang, to convey this to the old master."

Tang Buqi found it strange. If you had said this earlier, it would have made some sense. But after what just happened between you two, saying this now—are you trying to take advantage and then deny it?

But when he looked at his aunt, she was actually smiling. Her beautiful eyes glanced toward the bed, filled with admiration.

You're being taken advantage of and denied, and you're admiring him?

Fine. Matters of the elders are not for the younger generation to meddle in. Tang Buqi said helplessly: "Alright. I will convey Brother Zhao's words exactly to the old master."

"Good." Zhao Changhe laughed. "I say, Nephew... ah, Brother Tang, the way you stood before that baleful sword with your men—that was truly impressive."

Tang Buqi snorted: "It was just a sword shadow. What's so great about it? If my cultivation were higher, you wouldn't have had the chance to play the hero!"

"Yes, yes. Will you dare to go out on your own next time?"

Tang Buqi paused, then suddenly laughed: "Once this matter is settled, I will head north. Somehow, I no longer feel afraid."

"Once you've crossed the vast ocean, everything else seems small." Zhao Changhe smiled. "I look forward to meeting you in the martial world someday. That would be interesting."

Tang Buqi was silent for a moment, then said softly: "So, if I hadn't knocked, you would have treated me as a friend."

Zhao Changhe: "..."

Tang Wanzhuang: "..."

"Bang!" The door flew open, and Tang Wanzhuang grabbed her nephew by the ear and threw him out: "Go train! If you don't break through the fifth level of the Profound Barrier within ten days, you're not allowed out! I'll test your swordsmanship then. If you miss a single nuance, you'll face the wall in the back mountain for a year!"

"We don't have a back mountain anymore..." Tang Buqi's sighing voice faded into the distance.

The room finally fell quiet. Zhao Changhe and Tang Wanzhuang looked at each other and both laughed.

"So, you mean to stay here for ten days?" Zhao Changhe asked.

"Yes. There are many matters to attend to. I'm not sure if ten days will be enough."

"Then you should go attend to them. My injuries are just superficial. A few days of rest and I'll be fine. Don't waste your time here."

"How could it be a waste of time?" Tang Wanzhuang smiled faintly. "If I hadn't come here, how would I have heard those words you spoke to the Tang family?"

"...It's not much better than saying 'I don't want an old maid of twenty-eight.' In the end, it's still a rejection. You're missing the point."

Tang Wanzhuang smiled. "Wanzhuang is but an ordinary woman. If there are kind words to be heard, who would want to hear hurtful ones?"

Zhao Changhe dropped the subject and said instead: "That last remark from Tang Buqi—'we don't have a back mountain anymore'—didn't you feel a sense of decline? Even that carefree Tang Buqi seemed troubled, and yet you can still smile..."

"Buqi's transformation—standing before that baleful sword—came from his sense of belonging and devotion to the Tang family's glory. You see this battle as the day of the Tang family's decline, but I see it as the dawn of its revival." Tang Wanzhuang said softly, "This had to happen sooner or later. And it came at just the right time."

Zhao Changhe stared at her without speaking.

It was only now, in this moment, that Tang Wanzhuang truly seemed like the head of the Demon Suppression Bureau.

"The Tang family owes you a great debt for your help in this matter. Without you, the consequences would have been unthinkable. Whether you did it for the people of Gusu or for your friend Tang Buqi, Wanzhuang is in your debt." As she spoke, she took out a blood-red orb: "This is the treasure that Maitreya threw into the pond. It may be of use to you... though it might also disappoint."

Zhao Changhe nodded. "It's fine. This was a gift anyway. Even if it were just a copper coin, I'd still be ahead."

Tang Wanzhuang smiled. "It's not that bad... Rest and recover first before you examine it. Otherwise, it could harm your qi and blood."

She placed the orb by the head of the bed and finally turned to leave: "I'm afraid my presence here is disturbing you and Miss Sisi. I won't spoil your fun. I'll come to see you again when I have time, Brother Zhao."

Tang Wanzhuang left, and the room, which had been bustling like a marketplace, suddenly fell silent.

Zhao Changhe was glad for the quiet. He closed his eyes to heal, not even glancing at the orb by the bed.

He didn't need to look. He could feel the intense bloodlust contained within the orb from a distance. It was definitely not something to be examined while he was injured and his qi and blood were weak.

What a nuisance. All these people coming and going, delaying my recovery... If they really wanted me to heal quickly, they'd send someone for dual cultivation. They talk about owing me a favor, but they won't do the real work.

Just as he was thinking this, a faint fragrance reached his nose—a scent he had never smelled before.

Zhao Changhe opened his eyes.

A stunningly beautiful girl in foreign attire stood stiffly beside him, expressionlessly examining his medicated wounds. Her eyes, which seemed to speak, clearly said: "So you still haven't bandaged it? Do I need to wrap you up like a dumpling again?"

Her eyes not only spoke but seemed to hold peach blossoms, a hidden allure. Her gaze flowed like a lover's plea, like a silent confession.

And yet she did nothing. This was natural charm, bone-deep longing.

Her face was nothing like the "pitted and scarred" she had claimed. It was fair as jade, crystalline as snow, with a faint blush on her cheeks like a plum blossom in the snow, like rouge in jade.

Adorned in that foreign attire, jade waist and pearl chains swaying lightly, bells at her skirt hem chiming with every step—from sound to shadow, it was all like a dream, an illusion.

Zhao Changhe stared blankly, his mind momentarily empty.

No introduction was needed; with one glance, he knew this was Sisi.

He never expected to see Sisi's true face so abruptly... If Tang Wanzhuang was the embodiment of the Divine Land's classic elegance, then this was a seductive enchantress of exotic allure.

With such beauty, why pretend to be an ordinary maid?