Legend of Fu Yao

On the third night, Meng Fuyao started having a fever and cough. Zhan Beiye went sleepless that night to gather the necessary medical ingredients, and he stayed by her side to cool her body heat and treat her. He found joy in it, but Meng Fuyao woke up to see the popping veins in his eyes and felt sorry.

“It’s time to get a wife, Prince. You look unsatisfied. Do you need me to introduce…”

Unable to contain his anger the prince stuffed a fruit into her mouth, also jabbing her acupuncture point at the same time. “You have a city to go back to, but you don’t want to. You chose to have us sleep outdoors with the wolves, you stubborn woman!”

“I did not ask you to do this,” retorted Meng Fuyao.

Zhan Beiye stared at her flushed face and carried her over his shoulder without a word.

“Accounts should be calculated, and debts should be repaid.”

He carried Meng Fuyao down the mountains.

“We’re going back to the city.”

When they reached the bottom Yaocheng citizens were lining the streets in welcome.

The city gate had opened early in the morning, and the people who were awaiting their arrival stood in rows outside. As Zhan Beiye’s troop approached from far away, they couldn’t help but feel slightly stirred. After all, it was natural to feel uneasy upon spotting a foreign army on Wuji land. When they saw Meng Fuyao, who was in Zhan Beiye’s arms, they quieted down.

It was their mayor, an 18-year-old girl. During times of danger, she had gathered courage and wisdom that even guys couldn’t muster under such circumstances, endured criticisms alone and took down almost every Rong army generals, only to be forced to a corner by her own people.

The strength of character she possessed did not fall short of men’s, and the injustice they had served her with made it hard for them to look her in the eye.

Zhan Beiye slowed his horse, passing through the crowd as the citizens eyed the balled-up girl in his embrace. Her face was abnormally red, her collarbones more prominent than a few days before, and her exposed wrists frail and full of wounds. Eyes turned red while some let out low whimpers.

A youth plopped onto his knees suddenly. He was the youth who had smashed Tie Cheng’s head with a stone, also the most enthusiastic guy, who had thrown mud, stones, and dirt on to Meng Fuyao’s face.

He lowered his head as the springish breeze messed up his hair, covering his eyes. There was even a subtle smell of blood drifting along with it. It was the vestige of war.

Lives had been invaded and wiped out, but certain imprints that had been carved into the people’s heart were a challenge to erase.

More started kneeling down before their mayor, full of remorse and guilt. Their voices were stuck in their throats, and no words of apology could make their way out. All they could do was to put their dignity aside and kneel.

Before righteousness and the glory of conscience, pride was nothing.

Zhan Beiye advanced slowly with Meng Fuyao in his arms. He almost felt proud of himself for seeing something in a woman like this.

In front, city guards knelt on the ground. These were the fully armored guards who could even stand upright before the heavens. They had actually knelt down for the mayor they had attempted to shoot that day.

Zhan Beiye ignored the citizens but halted his horse before the soldiers. He looked at Meng Fuyao, noting the fluttering of her eyelids. She was awake but unwilling to open her eyes. Feeling his eyes on her, Meng Fuyao lifted her lids a little and shook her head.

Their gazes met, and Zhan Beiye smiled at the alignment of their thoughts.

“Get up,” he said, eyeing the people who were kneeling in shame. “Your mayor doesn’t blame you. You did no wrong by protecting the city. You did no wrong by standing your ground and not following her to surrender. In fact, you carried your responsibilities out well. It’s always a mayor’s blessings to have soldiers like these.”

Meng Fuyao rolled her eyes, thinking about how “blessed” she was indeed, and at the prince’s talent in stirring and buying the hearts of the people.

The youth, who couldn’t stop crying, started knocking his forehead against the grainy ground, quietly chanting, his voice echoing in the breeze: “I’ll work till death for the mayor.”

“I’ll work till death for the mayor!” People followed suit, their voices gradually creating a resounding wave that rolled across the southern part of the city and amid the bloodied gusts.

Zhan Beiye looked around in satisfaction, nodding his head. Unable to take it any longer Meng Fuyao shot him a subtle glare and pinched him. ‘Please stop it. Do you enjoy watching a bunch of grown men crying?’

A pity Zhan Beiye’s skin was made of steel. Not feeling the pinch at all he smiled shamelessly at her and whispered, “How are you going to thank me? This is the best chance for you to buy them over. Yaocheng will truly belong to you from now on.”

‘Do I care for it?’ Meng Fuyao turned her head. ‘The mayor is definitely getting the shorter end of the stick,’ she thought.

Zhan Beiye entered the city and was greeted by a whole crowd. Tie Cheng was at the front, supported by a crutch, smiling in joy while waiting for them. He was the only one who could welcome Meng Fuyao without guilt, so naturally, he was feeling much more energetic and enthusiastic despite his broken leg.

When Zhan Beiye carried Meng Fuyao in, he cast Tie Cheng a side glance. “Your bones are pretty strong, but you’re too weak. How are you going to be a guard? Come train with me every day for an hour.”

Tie Cheng was startled. He had witnessed Zhan Beiye’s impossible skills. Wouldn’t he be digging his own grave if he were to train with a man like this? Bitter-faced he thought about the offenders who had done Meng Fuyao wrong but weren’t being punished, and then about how unlucky he, the only supporter, was. Heaven knows no logic.

Meng Fuyao glanced over at Tie Cheng. This silly fellow was lucky enough to gain the support of Zhangsun Wuji first, and then Zhan Beiye. He was going to be a limited-edition fighter. Aye, envious she was.

But she had forgotten that the creation of this limited-edition fighter was planned for her.

Upon reaching her own room, Meng Fuyao received Lord Yuan Bao’s “overwhelming welcome.”

Lord Yuan Bao pounced on to the girl, who was wrapped like a dumpling and placed his claws.

“Squeak, squeak!”

Angered, she shouted, “Move your claws away! What’s that on them?”

Lord Yuan Bao retracted his claws, licking the candy on them clean before crooking his head. The more he looked, the wider he smiled. A short while later he brought a mirror toward her and stood by the side.

Looking at her ghost-like self and then at Lord Yuan Bao, who was now stroking his own fur coquettishly, she snorted in realization. “You’re saying that I’ve become ugly? Not as beautiful as you? No longer a worthy rival?”

“Squeak, squeak!”

Lord Yuan Bao’s grin drowned his eyes out as Meng Fuyao threw him a sideways glare. “Let me remind you… I’m still human, no matter how ugly.”

Her words left the guinea pig running to a corner and drawing circles. Satisfied, Meng Fuyao lied down and made herself comfortable. There was no better feeling than being on one’s own bed.

Zhan Beiye stared at her, arms crossed. “Comfortable now? Warm now? You, silly girl, have such a nice room and bed, and you chose to have us sleep outdoors? You need a good beating.”

Meng Fuyao gazed at him and responded lazily, “Yeah, ouch. Right, do my boots smell good? Eyes still swelled?”

Zhan Beiye was first shocked, then angry. “You know?”

Meng Fuyao pursed her lips and ignored him. Would she not know? While Zhan Beiye seemed like a decent character, she would be better off raising her guard when it was just the two of them sleeping outside.

Little Zhan had sworn to marry her, and he did not seem like the kind to make a joke out of his own life. If he were serious and she was eventually going to be his, was there a problem if he boarded the train first before paying for the ticket?

Meng Fuyao shooed him as if he was a mosquito. “Please find lodging anywhere else but here. Take care, I’ll not send you off.”

“I’m sleeping here,” replied Zhan Beiye indifferently, and walked out before she could berate him. “The physician is coming to nurse you back to health. I have things to attend to.”

‘What darn things is he talking about? So urgent? ‘Meng Fuyao was curious but had no energy to follow up. Upon drinking a bowl of nourishing soup that Yao Xun had delivered, she entered dreamland.

When she woke up the sun was already setting, its red glow radiating far and wide. She had slept for too long and had temporarily forgotten where she was. It felt as though she was still waging war in the Rong army camp, or that she was in a cave, reaching out for a stone but grabbing a human hip bone instead.

She reached for a face towel by her bedside and wiped the sweat off her forehead. She sat up, pondering over a segment of her dream scenes amid the sunset glow.

It was Yuan Zhaoxu. Oh, Zhangsun Wuji. He was looking at her disapprovingly and saying, “I left a message, asking you to leave, but you did not listen.”

In her dream, she had argued, “Yaocheng must be in trouble since you warned me to leave. How can I leave my city in a time of danger?”

Zhangsun Wuji sighed, before leaning over gently…

‘Hold up!’ Meng Fuyao’s ears turned beet red as she pulled the quilt over her face. ‘Darn, what am I thinking? Fortunately, it was all a dream.’

With the quilt covering her face she was now in a dark and quiet space. She took in the faint fragrance of the bedding, slowly calming her thoughts down.

Why did he ask her to leave? With his wisdom and ability, there was no way he couldn’t tell that there was something fishy about King De. So, had he discarded Yaocheng?

‘No,’ she dismissed her thought quickly. If that really was his intention, he would’ve kidnapped her if he needed to. It was more apt to say that Yaocheng was a place of potential danger, and he couldn’t be certain.

If the northern and southern Rongs were colluding with King De and planning to split the profits evenly, it couldn’t have been enough for the Rong tribe to pry into Yaocheng. Otherwise, it was no different from giving his strategic gateway to the Rong tribe. If King De’s brain was working at all, there was no way he would’ve done it.