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"Sir..." Xiaoqiao pushed the door open sleepily, rubbing her eyes as she placed a large plate of custard cakes on the table. "Your breakfast is here. The millet porridge is still cooking, and I didn’t make any steamed buns today, so you’ll have to make do with custard cakes."
Lu Sheng walked over and slammed the window shut, then turned to look at her. These few months apart had changed her. She looked more beautiful than ever—especially her chest, which had grown noticeably. Though the white dress she wore wasn’t low-cut, it still clung to her figure. From his angle, he could clearly see the outline of two soft curves and the shadowed ravine between them...
"Oh no, young master, your eyes are so naughty!" Xiaoqiao pouted, quickly covering her chest with her hands. "The clothes I brought don't fit anymore—I just realized they're all too small. My body has been growing so quickly lately..."
Lu Sheng chuckled. "I’ll take you to buy new clothes later."
At that, Xiaoqiao’s expression immediately turned worried.
"It’s better not to," she said. "The household is different now. Most of our money goes to buying the young master’s medicine. There are so many expenses..."
Lu Sheng froze for a moment, feeling a wave of shame. The family had become so poor, yet even Qiao’er, his young maid, was so sensible and knew how to save money—while he had remained oblivious.
Since returning, she had moved into one of the rooms in this house. As his personal maid, she would likely become his concubine someday. If he was willing, he could officially give her that status, which would be an elevation in her station.
Qiao’er’s past wasn’t a happy one. Her father was a gambler who once wagered not only their savings, but even his wife and daughter. He lost everything. Xiaoqiao and her mother were nearly sold to a brothel—until Second Madam Liu Cuiyu stepped in, paid off their debts, and took them in. Sadly, her mother passed away soon after from illness, leaving only Xiaoqiao behind in the Lu household. Since then, she had treated the Lu family as her own.
"We have to find a way to make money..." Lu Sheng muttered, finally taking their situation seriously.
Just then, he noticed Xiaoqiao pulling out an envelope from her bosom.
"A messenger just delivered this letter." She placed it gently on the table.
Lu Sheng walked over, picked up two pieces of custard cake with his chopsticks and took a bite, then reached for the letter. It was marked as being from the Lu family.
"It’s a letter from home."
He opened the envelope and read the contents. The message was simple: the family had decided to relocate to Yanshan City. He was told not to worry—things were going smoothly—and to focus on preparing for the annual examination.
Lu Sheng shook his head, folded the letter neatly, and placed it in the desk drawer.
"Have you prepared today’s medicine?" Lu Sheng asked as he quickly devoured the custard cakes stacked on the plate. In just a few bites, he had eaten more than twenty palm-sized cakes.
"It’s ready. It’s in the medicine box. Go and practice, young master. Go early and come back early." Xiaoqiao, knowing it was almost time for his daily training, urged him along.
"Yes."
Dong dong dong—11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡr8cMhuMcbh
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" Xiaoqiao quickly stood and walked to answer. A moment later, her voice could be heard speaking to someone outside. Then came the soft sound of the door closing.
"Who was it?" Lu Sheng asked, having finished his breakfast. He stood and began preparing to change clothes for his training session.
"A servant from the Song family. He brought a letter." Xiaoqiao handed the envelope to him. "Young master, please take a look."
Lu Sheng took the envelope and, upon seeing the handwriting, knew it was from Song Zhenguo. Among his acquaintances, the only person with the surname Song whom he was close with was him.
He opened the envelope and read the contents. It said that tomorrow was the Scented Silk Festival and that Song Zhenguo planned to redeem Jun’er from the painting boat. He invited Lu Sheng to join him as a witness and to celebrate together. At the end of the letter, Song added a special note: “You must come. I’ll treat you.”
"Redeem her?" Lu Sheng murmured. He had long suspected there was something between Song Zhenguo and Jun’er, but he hadn’t expected this—true affection, and a real plan to take her away from that life.
Still, Song Zhenguo was a good friend, and Lu Sheng had no other plans. Since there was food involved, there was no harm in going.
After tucking the letter away in the drawer and locking it, Lu Sheng picked up a straight blade and prepared to head out. Returning to the room to change, he walked up to the bronze mirror and took a good look at himself.
In recent days, Lu Sheng had clearly felt the effects of the Black Tiger Jade Crane Art awakening within his body. This internal cultivation technique, now transformed, was subtly nourishing him from the inside out, steadily strengthening his physique.
When paired with the intense, heat-driven stimulation of the Black Fiend Art, he could sense his internal organs being gradually refined—purging impurities and toxins. These changes were so profound that Lu Sheng often felt that, even without practicing external hardening techniques, his endurance and strength might rival those of seasoned masters of body-tempering techniques.
He casually swung his straight blade. The energy from both internal arts activated simultaneously, and the air trembled with a faint vibration and low rumble. Lifting his right arm, blade in hand, he noticed how thick black and red veins had surfaced along his skin, hideous and twisted in appearance.
His recent physical transformation was undeniable. If not for the long robes he wore, the contours of his well-toned, muscular frame would be clearly visible. His arms—dense with strength—were nearly as thick as the thighs of ordinary scholars.
"I need a good blade," Lu Sheng muttered, lifting the straight blade toward his face. His reflection appeared on its surface, but so did something else: a network of tiny cracks and distortions crawling across the metal.
"This blade is about to break."
Just then, a faint, cautious footstep echoed from the door. Someone was trying to sneak into his room. The rhythm was off—definitely not Xiaoqiao's.
"Who!!"
Like a tiger’s roar, Lu Sheng’s shout exploded through the room. His body twisted instantly, eyes wide, internal energy surging. A blast of fierce, malevolent qi erupted from him, causing the very air to tremble. A tiger’s roar, almost tangible, seemed to shake the room as his power pulsed outward.
A girl at the doorway screamed and fell to the floor in fright—it was Zheng Yuer.
Her face had gone completely pale. Trembling, she sat weakly on the ground, unable to get up.
"Wuwuwu... Brother Lu, you bullied me..." Zheng Yuer whimpered, tears brimming in her eyes.
She had tried to surprise him, sneaking in quietly, but never expected to be overwhelmed by such terrifying force. The moment her body relaxed, tears began streaming down her cheeks.
"Wuwuwu..." Zheng Yuer cried uncontrollably. Helpless, Lu Sheng sighed and moved to help her up, gently trying to soothe her.
"Just now, I thought I saw a black giant tiger leaping toward me... I was scared to death!" Zheng Yuer said, still trembling.
"Don’t sneak up behind me again. It’s dangerous," Lu Sheng said as he rubbed her head lightly. "What are you doing here? Where’s your brother?"
"He's still at the academy. Tomorrow is the Scented Silk Festival—does Brother Lu have any plans?" Zheng Yu'er quickly rubbed her eyes, perking up as she asked in a hushed voice.
"A friend invited me out for drinks."
"Ah? Late again!" Zheng Yu'er immediately cried out in frustration. "Alright, alright... I’ll go look for the next one quickly before someone else books them..." She seemed to have some other plan in mind. Without waiting for a response, she turned and hurried out of the room—just as quickly as she had come.
Moments later, Xiaoqiao rushed in, her eyes misty with tears.
"Miss Yu’er told me not to say it was her... Young Master, I..."
"From now on, anyone who enters this room must be announced beforehand." Lu Sheng's voice was calm, but his tone was firm and final.
"Y-yes... Yes..." Qiao’er lowered her head at once, startled by the seriousness in his voice, and nodded quickly.
Lu Sheng gave her a brief glance before stepping out, the blade in his hand glinting faintly.
Lately, he had begun to feel something unsettling stir within him. Though his surroundings were calm and stable, it seemed this peaceful environment wasn’t ideal for practicing the Black Fiend Art. Every so often, dark impulses would rise in him—an urge to kill, to slaughter without reason. He suspected it was a side effect of the art itself… a twisted residue of the violent energy it cultivated.
…………
The next day, the streets were bustling with life for the Scented Silk Festival. Folk song troupes paraded through the lanes, accompanied by acrobats, embroidered ball throwers, monkey trainers, street performers, and more.
Every corner was filled with festivities, and the closer one got to the city center, the more vibrant and crowded it became.
Lu Sheng, however, remained focused. As usual, he spent the day reading scriptures, cultivating his internal energy, and practicing both swordplay and palm techniques. It wasn’t until evening that he made his way to the agreed meeting place with Song Zhenguo.
They had chosen a quiet spot under a row of willow trees by the Songbai River.
Song Zhenguo was already there waiting, and by his side stood Chen Jiaorong.
"Brother Lu! Brother Yuesheng! You're too slow!" Song Zhenguo laughed as he stepped forward and patted Lu Sheng on the shoulder. "Jiaorong and I have been waiting here for ages."
After the incident with Wang Ziquan, Song Zhenguo had come to see the true faces of many so-called friends. He had since distanced himself from them all. In the end, only two people remained whom he still trusted wholeheartedly.
One was Chen Jiaorong, brother of Chen Yunxi.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKtLoPBBJYQ
The other was Lu Sheng.
Today, as he prepared to redeem Jun’er from the painting boat, Song Zhenguo had invited both to be witnesses—and to join in celebration. He had originally planned to go alone, but as the moment grew near, he realized such an important day shouldn’t pass without his closest friends by his side.
So, he wrote them letters, asking them to come.
"Today is Brother Song’s big day! Endless fortune and joy await him tonight!" Chen Jiaorong said with a laugh, pointing at Song Zhenguo. "But dragging us here just to watch? That’s not very kind of you!"
"Brother Song only cares about his own happiness. How could he remember his loyal friends?" Lu Sheng added with a grin.
"Come, come! Let’s not waste time—onto the boat!" Song Zhenguo beamed. "There’s a show waiting for everyone tonight!"
Chen Jiaorong's eyes suddenly lit up. With excitement, he grabbed Lu Sheng’s arm, and the three of them hurried toward the pleasure boat anchored not far from the riverbank.
The boat floated quietly by the pier, but the atmosphere was anything but still. Guests came and went in a steady stream, and the entire deck was filled with laughter, chatter, and music—it was a lively celebration.
Inside one of the compartments, seated beside a window, Jun’er stared out with wide almond eyes, her gaze locked on the approaching trio.
"How can this be? How could it be!! Brother Song, you clearly promised me you wouldn’t come today!!" Her face turned pale, and her hands clenched the edge of the table so tightly that her knuckles whitened. Unaware of the blood seeping from her lower lip—bitten out of anxiety—Jun’er trembled.
"Why is this happening...?" A wave of helplessness swept over her. She had warned Song Zhenguo earlier, begging him not to come today. Her master’s target was him, and she had done what she could to protect him. But here he was—laughing, smiling—completely unaware of the danger.
Her limbs felt numb. Strength abandoned her. Her heart screamed for her to rush out of the room, to stop him before it was too late. But she knew—she couldn’t. She was trapped.
Suddenly, a sharp, eerie laugh echoed through the room.
"Hehehe..."
Jun’er’s head snapped toward the sound.
On the bed in the corner of the room, a woman in a long white dress was sitting silently. At some point, she had appeared there without Jun’er noticing.
Her hair was jet-black, cascading down like a waterfall and veiling her entire face. Not a single facial feature was visible. Her frame was delicate—so thin it seemed a light breeze might topple her.11Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ45GmOzcXuM
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