Chapter 2: Sheathing Cold Air Embroiders Spring Knife

  Outside Qingzhou Prefecture, by the Nan River, there was a wine and tea shop.

  The wine shop's storefront was extremely small, with the owner Liu Xu acting as both the boss, chef, and waiter. Usually, only villagers from a nearby village would come to buy some wine, and occasionally, travelers on passing boats or fishermen would stop by for a rest. As a result, business was very slow, and the owner had lost interest in running the shop, often taking down the sign and going off to find other ways to make a living. Passing ships and nearby residents were all used to this, and whenever they saw that the wine flag was no longer flying outside the door, they wouldn't bother coming over anymore.

  Today, this small hotel seems to have closed already. The thin pole in front of the door is bare, but if you walk closer, you'll find that although the tea and wine flags have been taken down, the doors haven't been fully installed, at least leaving a gap between two door panels for ventilation. Inside the store, several people sit quietly.

  Four people sat around the table, with a seventeen or eighteen-year-old youth sitting with his back to the door. He was dressed in green clothes and had the appearance of a young servant from a wealthy family. He had a clear brow and bright eyes, but his lips were thin and his eyes were narrow, with a pale complexion that seemed to be tinged with a hint of blue. He looked somewhat timid and was actually Zhang Thirteen, the personal attendant of Yang Xiu, the eldest son of the Yang family in Qingzhou Prefecture.

  On his left side sat a burly man, wearing a round-collared robe, about thirty years old, with a thick beard under his chin, as thick as steel needles, and a pair of thick eyebrows and a wide mouth, giving off an air of heroism. His expression was very cold, without any frowning or thunderous rage, but just sitting quietly there, a killing aura emanating from him silently.

  To Zhang's right was a fat man, over forty years old, with a big belly and a round face, chubby cheeks. If he shaved his head and wore monk's clothes, people might mistake him for the reincarnation of Maitreya Buddha, thinking that the old man had come to play tricks on humans again.

  This fat man wore a mandarin jacket with a crossed collar, and on his head was a folded kerchief. The jacket was made of good cotton, but not silk or satin. It seemed that although he had money at home, he was just a pure merchant, neither a scholar nor a farmer, so he didn't have the qualifications to wear brocade or embroidered clothes. Now it's the Hongwu Emperor sitting on the dragon throne, and the boundaries between superior and inferior are clearly defined. Who dares to overstep the rules?

  Just two years ago, something happened in Jiangnan. More than a dozen young men from ordinary families wore boots to show off because their families were wealthy and could afford them. They ran to the street to kick balls, but were caught by the patrolling officers. At that time, the emperor had just issued an edict: ordinary people, merchants, artisans, infantrymen, and miscellaneous officials were all forbidden from wearing boots. Those who defied the ban would be severely punished. In the end, more than a dozen unlucky ones had their feet chopped off.

  Given this, although Qingzhou Prefecture has a bit of an "out of sight, out of mind" meaning, merchants who have money but are not qualified to wear luxurious clothes at home can only wear them at home and show off their wealth. Once they go out, they still need to cover up with a linen shirt outside, and be low-key and obedient, no one dares to openly show off and directly challenge the dignity of the Ming dynasty's Hongwu Emperor.

  This chubby guy has light eyebrows, born with a pair of smiling eyes, the corners of those smiling eyes are twitching constantly at this time, and the hairline is also sweating constantly. The fat hands tightly grasped a white handkerchief, occasionally wiping the sweat flowing down from the forehead and cheeks.

  Zhang Shisan sat opposite, was the owner of this small hotel Liu Xu. Boss Liu had a honest and simple appearance, wearing a coarse linen garment with his sleeves rolled up, revealing a neat and tidy lining. His lips were tightly pursed, his face full of bitter resentment, as if the three people sitting next to him were all freeloaders.

  Zao Yi Da Han was a inspector of the Qingzhou Prefecture government office, named Feng Xi Hui. An inspector is an official, although it's said to be lower than a 9th rank official, just a minor official without a rank, but after all, it's still an official, ordinary people would greet him with a bow and address him as "sir".

  Yuan Lianzhu, whose surname was An and first name Litong, was the owner of Qingzhou's An silk store. He often went to Jiangnan to purchase silk and then transported it north to sell, his family was wealthy and he was a rich merchant with a fortune of tens of thousands, in official circles he was just a pure businessman, but since his family had money, ordinary people would fawn on him and address him as "Master An".

  The sky was scorching hot, but the atmosphere in the store was chillingly cold. The four people all had gloomy faces and didn't say a word, the oppressive silence was suffocating. After a long time, An Yuanwai finally swallowed hard and carefully said: "Yang Xu is dead, our mission has failed, what should we do now? Everyone is so silent, it's not good for anything! General Feng, your official position is the highest among us, you have to give everyone an idea!"

  Feng Jianxiao's lips moved, and he seemed to be exhaling a cold breath. After a long time, he said in a low voice: "Make a decision? What decision? Four years ago, the four of us were ordered to leave Ying Tianfu, infiltrate Qingzhou City, and spent four years using up all the financial resources, material resources, and personal connections that Lord Ye could mobilize. Only then did we manage to support Yang Xu. Last month, I just sent a message to Lord Ye, saying that Yang Xu had become Qi Wang's confidant, and he could start taking action... Who would have thought... who would have thought it would turn out like this in the blink of an eye!"

  Feng Jianxiao slammed his fist on the table, causing the teacups to jump up. Only then did he say with a hateful tone: "Yang Xu was killed, and once the news reaches the ears of Lord Qian, we can imagine what will happen to us. You all know about Luo Daren's methods. If you don't want to end up in a situation where you can neither live nor die, then take your own lives and seek a quick death."

  Recalling the cruel methods of that official in the capital, several people couldn't help but shiver. Liu Zhangguan took a deep breath and gritted his teeth: "Damn it! Which turtle bastard is this? Why did they have to kill Yang Wenyuan? He was an innocent scholar with no connections to the underworld... who could he have offended? It's inexplicable that he would be killed like this... Ah, sir, do you think it's possible that our identities were exposed?"

  Zhang Shisan let out a cold laugh and scolded his older colleague, who was nearly twice his age: "Are you a human with a pig's brain?! We're being so secretive in our actions, how could we possibly be discovered? Even if we were to expose our identities, who would be unfavorable towards us? Only the King of Qi. But if it were indeed the King of Qi who took action, would he need to use assassination methods? Would he only kill Yang Xu?

  Even when I was at the height of my power, how much weight did I have in the eyes of those princes? Have you forgotten how the two commanders of the Five Armies of Ying Tian Prefecture died? They were beaten to death on the street by a prince's men just because they accidentally bumped into one of his sedan chairs. What was the result? The prince was simply reprimanded by the emperor and that was it.

  Apart from rebellion, there is no other crime that can be attributed to the king. If there was any wrongdoing that enraged everyone, it would be the king's fault and the historian taking the blame. Unless it's a treasonous crime, who under heaven dares to harm the emperor's son? If Yang Xu's death was indeed ordered by King Qi, if King Qi wanted to kill us, it would be as easy as crushing an ant, why would he need to hide his head and tail like this?

  An Yong rubbed his hands together, worried and said: "At present, investigating the cause of Yang Xu's death is useless, what's important is how we should explain it to Lord Luo..."

  Zhang Shisan said coldly, "After Yang Wenyuan's death, I erased the traces on the boat and brought him here by car. The news has not spread yet, so I didn't even enter the city. Instead, I invited all of you to meet here because I want everyone to discuss a countermeasure together... I have no other way to think of."

  An Yan's face turned pale as he turned to Feng Jianzhu and said, "Feng sir, look... why don't we tell the truth about what happened here? Yang Xuzhi's death was completely an accident, it's not our fault, we're innocent. Now is the time for the master to use people, maybe... maybe the master will spare us."

  Zhang thirteen was another cold laugh: "Eating lamp grass ash, releasing a light fart! When did Lord Luo become so kind-hearted and soft-faced? You're not unaware of the current situation on the other side of the sky. The Jin Yiwei is now in a difficult situation, wanting to turn over, relying on us. Four years ago, Lord could still provide some help to support Yang Wenyuan, but now it's impossible for Lord to give us any more help. All of Lord's hopes were buried in our hands, do you still expect Lord to forgive you?"

  An Yan's sweat flowed even more urgently.

  Zhang Thirteen holds a somewhat special position among these four people. Among the four, Feng Jianxiao is the leader, but when it comes to his relationship with Lord Luo of Ying Tian Prefecture, Zhang Thirteen is actually Lord Luo's confidant. Therefore, except when facing Feng Jianxiao, he can still maintain some respect, but towards the other two, he gives orders and scolds them without hesitation or courtesy. An Yuanwai and Liu Xu have long been accustomed to his arrogance.

  Just then, someone outside the door shouted: "Shopkeeper, I've caught a few fresh fish and don't know if you'll buy them here. My price is very fair, much cheaper than the fish shop."

  Liu Zhuanggui was in a state of anxiety, waving his hand and shouting: "Go away, go away! I'm not opening today. The wine banner and tea flag have all been taken down, can't you see?"

  He scolded and lifted his head, waiting for him to see the appearance of the person outside the store. His whole body was shocked, as if he had been struck by lightning, and he stood there motionless. Feng Jianzhi and the other two people noticed that his expression was different, and immediately turned their heads to look towards the door. When they saw this, the three people were also greatly surprised.

  Yang Xu!

  Yang Xue, who died last night and was hidden in the carriage in the backyard because the weather was too hot and the body was about to rot, stood alive at the door of the store, dressed as a beggar, holding a string of fish of different sizes, with willow branches piercing the gills, looking like they were freshly caught. The tails of the fish occasionally still moved weakly a few times.

  His hair was disheveled and loose, tied up in a messy bun with a twig inserted horizontally as a hairpin. He wore a tattered and worn-out short brown jacket, the hem of which was frayed like silk threads. His lower body had on a pair of lantern pants that had faded in color, carelessly tied around his waist with a grass rope. His calves were wrapped with leg bindings, and he wore a pair of tattered straw sandals, revealing dirty toes.

  After calming down, the four of them discovered that this person was somewhat different from Yang Xu. Firstly, his demeanor and temperament were far removed from those of the elegant and refined, young and wealthy Mr. Yang. However, this wasn't a big deal - even if an emperor himself wore a beggar's outfit and stood on a street corner with a broken bowl in hand, he would never again have that majestic aura. To a large extent, this was a matter of clothing. But this person was more robust than Yang Xu, his skin tone also darker than Yang Xu's, and there were some other factors that couldn't be clearly put into words - it was simply a feeling, a strange feeling.

  Four people, including Feng Jianxiao, scrutinized him with a critical eye, trying to distinguish between this beggar and Yang Xu. They found that the difference between them was extremely small, if they hadn't seen Yang Xu's dead body before, they would have thought that this person was actually Yang Xu in disguise, dressed up as a beggar to play a trick on them.

  Today the store didn't open, all the windows were closed, only two doors at the entrance were ajar, so the indoor light was very dim. The person outside couldn't see the expressions of the people in the store clearly, but the four people inside could see him very clearly. Although this person was dressed shabbily, his facial features were identical to those of Yang Xu. If he changed into this beggar's outfit and dressed up a bit, wouldn't he be that elegant young master Yang Xu who rode a horse and leaned on the bridge, with red sleeves waving from the building?

  Feng Jianxiao and Zhang Shisan's eyes lit up one after another.

  That man stood outside the door, unable to see the expressions of the people in the shop, but he could feel them staring at him strangely. His mysterious identity was a great threat to him in this era of strict population control, so to avoid trouble, he had rarely entered cities on his journey, otherwise he wouldn't have ended up looking like this. At this moment, sensing that something was amiss, he immediately became more alert and chuckled: "If the shopkeeper doesn't want to buy it, I'll just leave, why make such a big fuss? Sorry for the disturbance." With that, he picked up his fish and left.

  An Yan took a deep breath and exclaimed, "Did you see that? This man looks exactly like Yang Xu! It's truly amazing, the world is full of wonders. If it weren't for Yang Xu's body being in the car behind us, which we just personally verified, I would have thought he had come back to life! Alas, why did this short-lived beggar not die, while Yang Xu, who shouldn't have died, is dead?"

  An Yemeng's face turned red as he muttered to himself, while Feng Jianxun and Zhang Shisan slowly turned their heads around, looking at him with a gaze that seemed to be watching an idiot. An Yemeng felt a bit embarrassed by their stares, so he touched his nose tip and asked in a low voice: "Uh... did I say something wrong?"

  Zhang Thirteen sneered: "An Litong, I used to think you were stupid, but I didn't expect you to be even stupider than a pig."

  An Wen's face suddenly turned red, and he stuttered: "I... what's wrong with me again?"

  Feng Jian ordered Liu Zhuang in a low voice: "You follow him, keep an eye on him, and see where he ends up!"

  Liu Zhuangui nodded and first returned to the inner room. After a short while, he actually took out a knife. Feng Jianxiao frowned and said: "To follow a beggar, do you need to bring a knife? This knife is shining, once it falls into the eyes of someone with ulterior motives, isn't it a disaster? Put it down!" Liu Zhuangui awkwardly put down the knife and slipped out of the shop door.

  "Ah! I understand now, sir. Could it be... could you be trying to pass off this beggar as the real deal?"

  Zhang thirteen said sarcastically: "Old An, I was wrong just now. In fact, you are smarter than a pig by that much."

  Feng Jianxiao didn't speak, but instead picked up the knife that was placed in front of him. It was a narrow and slightly curved blade, light and agile, suitable for close combat. As he gazed at the knife with nostalgia, Feng Jianxiao's eyes gradually became fervent. He pressed the thumb stud, and the sharp blade sprang out half a foot with a "ding" sound. Feng Jianxiao lightly wiped his finger over the sharp edge of the blade, muttering to himself: "Embroidered Spring Knife, oh Embroidered Spring Knife, when will your glory be reappear in the world?"

  With one sword in hand, a formless killing aura has risen to the sky, sweeping over every blade of grass and tree, every water and mountain by the banks of the Nanyang River.