It was April.
All the flowers in the Cheng had withered, but the peach blossoms in Qingyuan Village were just beginning to bloom.
Luoyan went out with her cloak in hand to enjoy the scenery, and halfway there she saw four village children playing with mud by the edge of the field.
She couldn’t help but glance over a few more times.
The children immediately stopped laughing, and someone suddenly shouted, “Run!” They all screamed and scattered.
She was a bit indignant, thinking, My phone is way more fun than you guys anyway. Then, out of habit, she reached for her pocket—
Only to find it empty, and then remembered there were no phones in ancient times.
…
Luoyan had arrived here two months ago.
One moment, she was being wheeled into the Shouhou, the next, someone was fishing her out of a water vat.
A woman with graying temples helped her change into dry clothes inside a carriage, then replied to someone outside with a heavy nasal tone, “Imperial Capital… Sun Dianxia…”
Through the gap in the carriage curtain, she could see four or five masked people.
Some had swords at their waists, others carried long whips, and their clothes and hairstyles were straight out of a historical drama.
One of the masked men clasped his hands in salute and said, “Madam Ye has done us a great favor.”
At that, Luoyan was sure she’d transmigrated into a novel.
And not just any novel, but an “upgrade” web novel disguised as pure romance but actually full of harem drama—one she had chased with five different accounts just to scold the author. The title: “The Legend of Wuyang.”
In the book, there was a white moonlight character named Luoyan, with a name just one character different from hers.
And as per the trope, the white moonlight always died young, died tragically, or both. Luoyan was the latter.
At twelve, her entire family was massacred, and she fled to the Imperial Capital to seek refuge with her cousin Cui Wuyang, who was the Crown Prince’s grandson.
The two little orphans grew close, and just as Cui Wuyang was about to confess his feelings, Luoyan died saving him from a sword.
In short, she lived to warm the male lead and died to motivate him.
What a textbook tool character.
But Luoyan wasn’t Luoyan, and there was no way she was going to follow the plot.
Once the masked men left, she convinced the woman to turn back, and the two of them disguised themselves as grandmother and granddaughter, hiding in the woman’s distant mountain home.
During her two months in Qingyuan Village,
She had no worries about food or clothing, nor did she have to go to school.
Life was quite comfortable.
The only thing was, all the village kids avoided her like she was the plague.
“Who cares.”
Luoyan tiptoed to pick a few peach blossoms, brushed off the dust, and headed back to her own yard.
The servant woman, Jia Yufang—Luoyan’s nominal grandmother—was fanning the stove. Seeing the girl return listlessly, she asked with concern, “Are you feeling unwell?”
Luoyan shook her head and went back to her room in silence, opening a black lacquered, gold-trimmed official chest in her cabinet.
The chest had always been there; even Jia Yufang didn’t know where it came from.
Inside were delicately scented bottles and jars, gem-encrusted weapons, and a few yellowed illustrated fighting books.
Whenever she was bored, she would flip through them, trying to deduce the owner’s identity, treating it like a solo murder mystery game.
Jia Yufang brought in a bowl of simmered medicinal soup. Seeing her holding a bare dagger, she cried out in alarm, “Careful with your hands!”
Luoyan always respected her elders and obediently put the dagger back.
“I’ve heard news from Cangxi,” Jia Yufang said, wiping her tears with her back turned. “The authorities just said it was a bandit attack and closed the case hastily. Thankfully, Dianxia sent people to handle the aftermath, and now they’re recruiting craftsmen to repair the Lu Residence.”
“Cousin is thoughtful,” she replied politely.
Seeing the young lady’s face devoid of sorrow, Jia Yufang took it as the “sorrow beyond words” scholars spoke of, and felt even more heartache. She took Luoyan’s hand and asked, “Why not send a message to him?”
Luoyan knew exactly what Jia Yufang was thinking—
Even though the Lu Family of Cangxi was gone, her cousin was of noble status. If she sought refuge with him, she’d never have to worry about her marriage.
Of course, if the two cousins could marry, it would be an even better story.
But Luoyan knew the plot.
This time, she couldn’t get away with pretending to be sick.
She racked her brain for the male lead’s background, then had an idea: “Grandmother, you don’t know this, but Cousin’s situation isn’t good… My family’s tragedy was because of him.”
Cui Wuyang might be the Crown Prince’s grandson, but the one on the throne wasn’t his grandfather—it was his royal uncle.
Would an uncle really hand the throne to his nephew?
Would consorts with sons really sit by and watch?
Sure enough, Jia Yufang’s hair stood on end.
Luoyan seized the chance to add fuel to the fire: “Grandmother, you spent decades in the Lu Family—didn’t you notice that ever since the current emperor took the throne, the Lu Family and the Imperial Capital have rarely interacted?”
Imperial power struggles might be far from ordinary people, but broken down like this, how could Jia Yufang not understand?
“We’re not going, we’re not going. We’ll just live well here in the village. As long as this old servant is alive, I won’t let you suffer, Miss.”
Luoyan let out a long sigh of relief and said sincerely, “I really like Qingyuan Village—the scenery’s beautiful, the air is good, and I haven’t even been coughing much lately.”
It was just a shame there were no electronics.
She was so bored she’d rummaged through every chicken coop and doghouse, and even knew exactly how many stones were at the village entrance.
Maybe she should get a cat or dog for company.
Just as she was thinking this, Jia Yufang clapped her hands in excitement: “Once we sell this batch of embroidery, I’ll buy a maid for you!”
“Huh?”
“And next year, we’ll save up to hire a female teacher.”
“But, Grandmother…”
But Jia Yufang, having finished her calculations, was in high spirits.
She took away the dishes and went to the courtyard to do her embroidery.
…
That night, the wind picked up.
The thin paper windows couldn’t keep out the noise, and Luoyan couldn’t sleep.
She put on her outer robe and went to the window for some air.
Bang—
A loud crash came from the east kitchen, followed by Jia Yufang’s hurried footsteps—it must have been the vegetable rack falling over.
Luoyan wanted to go help.
As she leaned over to close the window, she caught a glimpse of a tall, thin shadow standing outside the low gate of the yard.
A rock? A person? Or a broken tree branch?
She was puzzled and reached for the oil lamp.
At that moment, a huge bolt of lightning split the sky, illuminating the whole village—and the strange, black-clad youth standing at her gate.
He had handsome features, still bearing traces of youth, not yet as tall as a grown man, but his eyes were sharp and cold, radiating a hostility far beyond his years.
Luoyan was so frightened she almost screamed, but before she could, the boy collapsed straight to the ground.
“Grandmother—!”
Jia Yufang arrived quickly, shut the window, and comforted her with a smile, “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid, Thunder Lord and Lightning Mother are good spirits.”
After a moment, Luoyan explained, “It’s not that, Grandmother—there’s someone outside our house.”
After the lightning came the thunder, and soon the rain was pouring down.
“Stay in the house.” Jia Yufang instructed, then threw on a rain cape and rushed out. Sure enough, she found a half-grown boy at the gate.
Unexpectedly, Luoyan followed. She held an umbrella in one hand and the oil lamp high in the other, her voice excited: “Grandmother, let me help you!”
The two of them worked together and finally dragged the boy into the main hall, with Luoyan even bringing in a bare longsword.
Jia Yufang was alarmed at the sight and wrapped the sword in several cloths, stashing it behind the door before urging Luoyan to change into dry clothes. She herself went to the kitchen to make hot water.
In just that short time, a large pool of blood had spread around the boy.
Luckily, Jia Yufang was used to slaughtering chickens and sheep and wasn’t afraid.
She first checked the outer clothes and, seeing little damage, deduced there were no serious external injuries. She wrung out a hot towel and wiped the boy’s face.
With his eyes tightly shut, his aura seemed much gentler. As the grime was wiped away, his fine nose and features were revealed, and there was even a small tear mole on his left cheek.
Jia Yufang exclaimed, “What a handsome boy—looks just like our Yan girl.”
Luoyan also thought he was good-looking and, plucking up her courage, poked his neck in curiosity, “Grandmother, he’s still warm.”
“Of course living people are warm,” Jia Yufang said, half amused and half exasperated. “He looks all right, but if we just leave him here, he’ll get sick even if he wasn’t before.”
Summer rain comes and goes in an instant.
Jia Yufang put on her rain gear again, planning to fetch a trusted doctor from the neighboring village. Worried about Luoyan, she cautioned, “You’re frail, don’t get too close, in case you catch whatever he has.”
Luoyan nodded obediently.
In reality, as soon as her grandmother left, Luoyan began poking and prodding—checking his breathing, lifting his eyelids, even feeling his pulse.
Mimicking TV doctors, she stroked her imaginary beard and bowed to the air: “Congratulations, congratulations, it’s a pregnancy pulse.”
After playing doctor to her heart’s content, she yawned and dozed off at the table.
Half asleep, she heard noises outside the yard—a middle-aged man’s voice: “Is this the place?”
“Yes, yes.”
Luoyan woke instantly and hurried to unbolt the door.
The doctor was about forty, carrying a huge medicine chest and walking with a steady stride.
When he saw Luoyan, he paused in surprise, then bowed deeply, tears in his eyes as he went to examine the patient.
First, the boy needed to be cleaned.
To avoid suspicion, Jia Yufang took Luoyan to the side room, making tea as she introduced her: “Liu Langzhong used to be in the medicinal herb business. Once, someone tried to swindle him, and after hearing from Changqing’s father that I worked at the Lu Family, he traveled all the way to seek help.”
Cangxi Commandery and Linchuan Commandery were far apart, but back then, the late emperor was on the throne, and the Lu Family Matriarch’s brother-in-law was the current Crown Prince—quite an influential connection.
Luoyan understood.
It was another good deed her original parents had done, no wonder the doctor was so emotional.
After half a cup of tea, the treatment was done.
The doctor wrapped the boy in a thin quilt and carried him to the empty bed.
“This young man’s pulse is erratic and he’s unconscious—he’s most likely been poisoned.”
Liu Langzhong was a country doctor, good with ordinary ailments but helpless with poisons.
To be safe, he advised, “Don’t move him for two or three days. I’ll go back and look up some books and ask my colleagues.”
As for what would happen after two or three days…
“These are the methods of the Order of the Jianghu.” Liu Langzhong handed over some anti-cold medicine and bowed to Luoyan, “Miss, you barely escaped with your life. You mustn’t take any more risks. Once the mountain road dries, I’ll come and carry him away myself.”
His words were serious enough to scare Jia Yufang into not even daring to leave the house.
Luoyan, however, was unfazed, insisting on wiping the boy’s face and braiding his hair.
The more cheerful Luoyan became, the more it pained Jia Yufang to watch.
After all, in the past, the young lady had been pampered by everyone in the Lu Residence, with more than ten maids just for company and amusement. How could things be like this now…
Jia Yufang secretly resolved to save up as soon as possible to buy a clever little maid.
…
Zhu Yun slept for two whole days.
He woke up to a faint tugging pain on his scalp, but his eyelids felt as heavy as waterlogged cotton, and his mind was still foggy.
In the darkness, he heard a childish girl’s voice muttering by his ear, “Do you like three-strand braids? Let’s try three-strand braids today.”
“?”
Zhu Yun struggled to recall, and finally remembered that he had come to Qingyuan Village in Linchuan Commandery, and had glimpsed a little girl before losing consciousness.
Was she the one pulling his hair?
Was she the owner of this house?
He had occupied this residence two years ago, and though he hadn’t been here for some time, he would never give it up to others, not even the owner.
Once he recovered, he would kill this girl—
A warm palm cupped Zhu Yun’s left cheek, and his thoughts scattered, replaced by a surge of indignation.
How dare she touch him!
But Luoyan was having a grand time, completely unaware that the boy’s lashes were trembling violently.
She lifted Zhu Yun’s chin, dipped her little finger in lip balm, and evenly applied it to his lips.
“So pretty,” she said, very satisfied with her handiwork. Then she picked up the stone black, muttering to herself, “Now let’s do your eyebrows.”
Zhu Yun could stand it no longer.
He summoned his inner strength to suppress the poison, suddenly opened his eyes, and locked gazes with the girl’s bright, sparkling eyes.
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.