Chapter 117: Xiao Jinghong: Too Talkative

Chapter 117: Xiao Jinghong—A Mouthful of Gossip

After a languid afternoon, the events of the previous night at Bai Caotang had naturally rippled through the streets of Shu Zhou City.

Amidst the swirling chatter, opinions clashed like blades.

Some whispered that Bai Caotang concealed treasures worth a king’s ransom—artifacts capable of accelerating a martial artist’s cultivation. Together with the stolen medicinal herbs from Xiao’s family, taken by the Huan Yin Sect, they sought a singular miracle herb.

Others claimed the Huan Yin Sect, green with envy over Bai Caotang’s thriving business, sought to seize its recipes.

Yet another faction muttered that Bai Caotang’s success had blocked the paths of countless apothecaries in Shu Zhou, drawing ill will upon its doors.

Yet none could reconcile these tales with the Xiao family’s modest shop. For had it not been for Xiao’s intervention last night, Bai Caotang might already lie in ruins, slaughtered by the Huan Yin Sect’s wicked schemes.

Still, even as whispers faded, many felt a lingering chill. This was no remote mountain hermitage—it was the heart of Shu Zhou itself. If these demons dared raid Bai Caotang, what stopping them from striking goldsmiths’ shops or merchant stalls tomorrow?

And in the western market, several patrons had been left unconscious, their fates stoking the city’s fear.

The pressure on the Prefect’s Office, the Ministry of Justice, and the city guards swelled like a storm tide. Even the Censorate and the Provincial Surveillance Commission, upon hearing the news, dispatched edicts commanding the Prefect and the Ministry of Justice to apprehend the culprits at once.

By noon, the streets teemed with officials: judicial inspectors, clerks, and soldiers. The city guards patrolled the gates, frisking every traveler. Clerks knocked on every door, questioning households for any signs of trouble. Inspectors combed Bai Caotang’s premises, the western market, and the site of the earlier brawl.

Among them trailed numerous Xiao family warriors. Yet their focus remained split—not only on the Huan Yin Sect’s villains, but also on the wound that had felled Liu Si Er.

For this, Ge Lao San hurried to the apothecary. Not merely to learn the truth, but to fetch Liu back to Xiao’s home for healing.

There, Liu Si Er stirred, bandages clinging to his limbs, a wooden board splinting his left hand. His skin hung pale as wax.

A single glance revealed the depth of his wounds.

Ge Lao San delayed pressing for details, first ensuring the physicians confirmed Liu’s survival. Then, with care, he hoisted his friend onto a cart.

They rode through the rain.

Ge Lao San’s voice dripped with scorn as he asked, “Brother, that man—was he truly that formidable?”

Liu Si Er wanted to ignore him, yet the memory of the cloaked figure’s expert spearplay stirred anger in his chest.

“His spear technique was sharp, but his cultivation… it wasn’t high. Probably below the third-grade martial sense.”

“His voice cracked with age, yet his eyes—he couldn’t have been much older than twenty.”

Ge Lao San’s mind raced. The inspector’s earlier assessment echoed in his thoughts: *“The attacker’s spear art had reached the Dao stage.”*

“Could it be?” he muttered.

Liu Si Er blinked, his thoughts aligning. His face sagged.

A martial artist who’d cultivated spear art to the Dao stage—even without high cultivation—was a prodigy of the martial world. Such geniuses hailed from noble houses or were disciples of esteemed sects. Either way, this stranger was no ordinary foe.

“Old Three,” Liu said, voice low, “has the Prefect or any elder yielded any leads?”

Ge Lao San exhaled sharply. “Last night, those who entered Bai Caotang—dead or wounded, none spoke. The few captured ruffians are being grilled in the Prefecture, but no answers yet.”

“You truly don’t know who wounded you?”

Liu’s tone hardened. “If I knew, I’d’ve brought the whole damned army to his doorstep by now.”

Ge Lao San cursed under his breath. “Damn it all—anyone who dares harm the Xiao clan… I’d sooner eat my own tongue than forgive them.”

Their cart rolled to Xiao’s manor gates.

As Ge Lao San raised his hand to speak, his eyes snagged two figures emerging from the rain. His curse died on his lips.

Xiao Jinghong—back from the night’s chaos?

Had Grandfather Xiao already ordered blood spilled on Liu’s kin?

Ge Lao San’s mind whirled, but his bowed head remained steady as he greeted, “Your Excellency, we humbly beseech your mercy.”

Inside the cart, Liu Si Er stiffened, pulling aside the curtain to bow. “Your Excellency, we offer our deepest apologies.”

Xiao Jinghong regarded them, her gaze settling on Liu’s bandaged hand. “And who are you?”

“A subordinate who pursued a criminal last night. I was struck by him,” Liu replied, voice tight.

Xiao’s eyebrows furrowed. She glanced toward the manor, then leaned closer, her voice soft as silk: “About Bai Caotang—tell me everything.”

Ge Lao San and Liu froze.

She knew.

She knew everything.

“Your Excellency,” Ge began, bowing, “we followed the Younger Brother outside Bai Caotang…”

“The man wielded spear art of the Dao stage, though his cultivation was low—likely from a noble house.”

Liu’s cheeks flushed with shame. “Forgive us, Excellency. In the chaos, we couldn’t discern his face.”

Xiao’s lips barely moved, but her silence spoke volumes.

Then—a sharp cry erupted nearby.

She turned, spotting Pei Wu Lu, her eyes wide as saucers, mouth open in shock.

“Do you know this man?” Xiao asked.

Pei Wu Lu clutched her mouth. “I… I don’t know.”

“I’m certain,” Xiao pressed.

Pei Wu Lu shook her head frantically. “I don’t know, I don’t know…”

She’d seen nothing—but Liu’s description of the spear technique eerily mirrored that of Chen Yi, the famed swordsman.

Xiao nodded once, dismissing her.

She urged Liu and Ge onward, then turned to Pei Wu Lu. “Push through. Let us not delay.”

As they entered the manor, Liu exhaled a shaky breath, his pain momentarily forgotten.

Who would have thought that the nearby Ge Lao San was the same.

When the two voices converged, they just happened to be audible.

Ge Lao San and Liu Si Er exchanged a glance, their faces bearing a hint of something strange, followed by a few dry laughs.

"Fourth brother, the General has just returned. That’s why those ruffians dare not show their faces."

"That’s right…"

Meanwhile, on the other side.

Xiao Jinghong had heard the two voices, yet she paid them no heed.

Family matters were best left to family.

She was accustomed to solemnity, and whether it was Xiao family’s personal guards or soldiers from Dingyuan Army, they all showed her a respectful fear.

It was only natural.

At that moment, Pei Manli regained her composure, her spirit lifting as she took in the familiar sights around her, letting out a hearty laugh:

"Jinghong sister, I should’ve known we were back in Shu Zhou."

"Making me nervous all the way up there, hovering in the sky."

When Xiao Jinghong didn’t answer, she continued on her own: "Jinghong sister, you didn’t send me here on purpose, did you?"

"Am I allowed to stay here for a while?"

Xiao Jinghong slightly nodded: "Indeed, I brought you here to stay."

Pei Manli’s face lit up like the sun breaking through clouds, her plump cheeks blooming into a radiant smile. Her bare feet splashed through puddles, bouncing with youthful energy, her chest swaying with the jingling of a pendant.

"Jingle jangle," she clung to Xiao Jinghong’s arm, pouting playfully: "I knew my sister would always be the best to me."

Xiao Jinghong flicked her hand away, gently pushing her back: "Only because I feared you’d cause trouble if you stayed at the camp."

Pei Manli wasn’t annoyed at all; instead, she smiled brightly: "Exactly. It would’ve been trouble elsewhere. Staying here is better."

"I’ve been away so long, I wonder if my husband has thought of me."

Xiao Jinghong glanced at her, her plump lips twitching slightly, but said nothing.

If her lord had been thinking of her, then the poems *Summer Night’s Thoughts* and *Summer Night’s Second Thoughts* would’ve been sent to the wrong person.

Not long after, the two of them arrived at the courtyard.

From far away, Xiao Jinghong heard the mirthful sounds coming from the Spring Lotus Garden, and her lingering worry evaporated like mist.

Her lord… and his younger sister, so at ease. Whatever had happened at Bai Caotang must not have disturbed them.

She entertained such thoughts, but beside her, Pei Manli had other concerns.

Upon hearing Chen Yi’s laughter, she erupted into joyous shouts, sprinting toward the garden with renewed vigor.

When she saw the group inside the pavilion feasting on hot pot, Pei Manli’s face beamed with a brilliant smile.

Unmindful of the rain soaking her clothes and pattering on her face, she threw her arms wide and rushed toward Chen Yi.

"Brother, I’m home!"

Chen Yi paused mid-smile upon seeing her.

Then, spotting Xiao Jinghong behind her, his expression softened into a warm grin.

He rose from his seat and waved his hand.

Pei Manli’s steps quickened.

She was about to leap into his arms when he slapped her forehead with a hand.

She stretched forward, unable to even brush his sleeve: "Brother, wait—"

Chen Yi glanced at her, "Don’t be silly."

Then, he guided Pei Manli aside, turning to Xiao Jinghong, who approached calmly:

"My lady, what brings you home today? You said your return was uncertain."

Beside her, Xiao Wan’er shared the same question.

But upon seeing Xiao Jinghong walk through the rain without an umbrella, she merely murmured softly, "Come inside to avoid the rain."

Xiao Jinghong glanced around, giving only a brief nod to Qie Stopcloud before addressing Chen Yi and Xiao Wan’er:

"Just passing by on business."

No sooner had she finished speaking than the sulky Pei Manli let out a playful yelp:

"Jinghong sister, you said you’d sent me here on purpose, didn’t you?"

The group fell silent, puzzled.

Xiao Jinghong met her gaze calmly:

"…"

A pause.

(End of chapter)