Chapter Ninety-Three: Entrustment

(5555, at last our Strange Tales has a master at the helm, not an easy feat! I am deeply grateful to fellow reader "Dawn at Daybreak" for your generous reward, especially when the monthly votes are so scarce—truly, in turbulent times, the hero's spirit shines! I must also thank "Water Still Cold Today" and other friends for their support with rewards and votes. Thank you all! I am not some grandmaster, nor do I have a review section ablaze with praise, but the care and affection from brothers and sisters like you is more than enough!)

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Seeing her mistress about to be dishonored, Xiang’er, driven by loyalty, could bear it no longer. She cried out urgently and dashed forward—at once, the whole crowd erupted in astonishment, all eyes turning to witness what had happened.

At that moment, Mr. Huangfu, too, felt puzzled and turned to look at Chen Jianchen—wasn’t Xiang’er his personal maid?

Chen Jianchen’s heart sank, but he quickly bowed and said, “Sir, I beg a favor of you.” In this predicament, he could only grasp at straws, and Mr. Huangfu was that lifeline.

Mr. Huangfu let out a sound, his eyes shifting as he realized this was an opportunity: “Young master, please speak frankly. I will do my utmost to help.”

Chen Jianchen said, “I ask you, sir, to protect those two ladies and escort them off the boat.”

He meant the daughter of Lord Lu and Xiang’er.

Mr. Huangfu chuckled, agreeing readily, “A trifling matter.”

He rose from his seat and strode toward Li Yifeng.

Xiang’er’s sudden outburst caught everyone off guard—not only Li Yifeng but even Lord Lu’s daughter was stunned. To see her own maid appear on the boat without warning left her unprepared and unable to carry out her original plan of assassination; her hand beneath the zither withdrew.

Mr. Huangfu called Li Yifeng aside and whispered in his ear.

Behind them, Chen Jianchen watched closely, noting Li Yifeng’s shifting expressions—at times agitated, at times cold, clearly unwilling to lose face before the gathered guests. Fortunately, Mr. Huangfu persisted, and eventually Li Yifeng sighed deeply, waved his hand in resignation, and glanced toward Chen Jianchen.

Seeing this, Chen Jianchen knew the matter was settled.

It was fortunate Lord Lu’s daughter hadn’t revealed her identity or drawn her blade—indeed, Xiang’er’s sudden intervention had objectively prevented the situation from worsening, though whether it was accidental or fortuitous was unclear.

Of course, her mistress’s revenge plan was now abandoned.

Yet, as the saying goes, “With the green hills preserved, one need not fear for firewood.” From Chen Jianchen’s perspective, if Lord Lu’s daughter had really drawn her blade, there was no guarantee she could have killed Li Yifeng—after all, he was a burly man, she a frail young woman, with a clear disparity in strength.

Chen Jianchen had no idea what method Mr. Huangfu used to persuade Li Yifeng, but with matters as they were, he saw no reason to remain on the pleasure boat.

Mr. Huangfu, ever experienced, had already arranged everything. He asked Li Yifeng to have the "Yellow Dragon Drinking Water" boat rowed to the shore, and then he and Chen Jianchen, along with the others, disembarked.

Standing firmly on land, Xiang’er finally confirmed that she and her mistress had escaped the tiger’s jaws. Unable to restrain herself, she hugged Lord Lu’s daughter and wept uncontrollably. Lord Lu’s daughter intended to scold her, but the words stuck in her throat. Xiang’er had acted out of loyalty and had not truly erred. In contrast, having failed to carry out her assassination plan, Lord Lu’s daughter felt a strange sense of relief, her whole body weak.

Chen Jianchen bowed to Mr. Huangfu and said apologetically, “I’m sorry to trouble you, sir, and to spoil your evening’s festivities, depriving you of drink—please forgive me.”

Mr. Huangfu laughed heartily, “Nonsense! In fact, I should thank you. I had no desire to attend this banquet in the first place, but could not resist Li Yifeng’s persistent invitations.”

Chen Jianchen did not take him at his word and asked, “By the way, how did you persuade Li Yifeng not to pursue the matter?”

The hired songstress, suddenly taken away before all the guests, had surely damaged Li Yifeng’s pride. He was a prominent scholar and local gentry—getting him to yield was no simple task.

Mr. Huangfu blinked and replied, “Nothing much. I simply said that Miss Lu was your fiancée, but unwilling to marry you, she fled. On the road, she ran out of money and had no choice but to perform on the pleasure boat.”

Was that acceptable?

Odd as it seemed, it was a plausible explanation. How Mr. Huangfu came up with it was anyone’s guess.

Chen Jianchen was caught between laughter and tears, and the two women, overhearing, abruptly stopped crying, astonished.

Seeing their reaction, Mr. Huangfu asked in surprise, “Young master Chen, is it true?” He had had no idea of their relationship beforehand.

Chen Jianchen quickly explained, recounting the circumstances in detail.

After hearing it, Mr. Huangfu clapped his hands in admiration, “To see danger and lend aid without regard for kin or stranger, rescuing others from distress—such righteousness, I am deeply impressed.”

He bowed respectfully.

Chen Jianchen hurriedly returned the gesture, then went over to Lord Lu’s daughter and said, “Miss Lu, may I ask what your plans are?”

A moment of silence.

Suddenly, Lord Lu’s daughter reached out her delicate hand, tugged at Chen Jianchen’s sleeve, and said softly, “Sir, please come with me.”

Puzzled, Chen Jianchen followed her to the side.

By now, night had fallen, stars and moon shining faintly. The pleasure boats drifted like clouds upon the Suzhou River, each aglow with lanterns brighter than the stars themselves. Beneath every light came laughter, yet who could say how much was genuine, how much feigned; how much was purchased, how much was sold.

Lord Lu’s daughter and Chen Jianchen stood face to face. She was petite, looking up at him with clear, autumnal eyes. Suddenly she reached up and pulled down her veil, revealing a face of breathtaking beauty, rosy cheeks tinged with shy blush.

Chen Jianchen had lived in this world for some time and seen many beauties, but confronted with Lord Lu’s daughter’s bashful loveliness, he could not help but feel awed.

If Peach Blossom’s beauty, cloaked in illusion, was a mechanical perfection; if Nie Xiaoqian’s allure was exuberant and free; then Lord Lu’s daughter’s charm was like a willow trembling in the wind, gentle ripples—at first sight, one wished to take her into one’s arms and cherish her forever, a fierce sense of possession stirring within.

Chen Jianchen frowned and instinctively asked, “This is…”

Lord Lu’s daughter bowed gracefully, “My surname is Lu, my maiden name is Xiyue. I greet you, sir, and thank you for saving my life.”

Chen Jianchen cleared his throat, “Miss, please, no need for such formality.”

Lu Xiyue lowered her head, finally gathering great courage, and said, “Sir, since you have saved my life, then I am yours.”

Her voice grew softer with each word, until it was barely audible; Chen Jianchen had to strain to hear, startled, and quickly waved his hand, “Miss, you exaggerate!”

This was no trivial matter—he was wholly unprepared.

Lu Xiyue suddenly looked up, tears streaming down her face, “Or do you despise my coarse appearance, unworthy of your gaze?”

Chen Jianchen shook his head, “Miss, your beauty is unmatched, admired by all.”

Lu Xiyue asked again, “Then do you scorn me for my humble origins? Heaven and earth bear witness, I have always kept myself pure. My contract with the Birdwatcher’s Pavilion was for a free courtesan, unbound by restrictions. Each time I performed, I wore a light veil—no man has ever seen my face…”

Her words made Chen Jianchen realize the true significance of her removing her veil in front of him—here, women’s chastity was held in utmost esteem; men and women did not easily exchange gifts or perform certain gestures unless with deep intent.

For example, if a young lady took a fancy to a gentleman passing by the temple, she might send her maid to present him with a keepsake. If he accepted, it was tantamount to a lifelong promise.

Such contracts were simple and direct, far more binding than modern vows.

As one from the modern world, Chen Jianchen’s outlook was naturally different. It was not that he was a saint unmoved by beauty, but the suddenness of it all unsettled him. This was their first meeting, their first conversation. Moreover, Lu Xiyue was only fourteen or fifteen—a budding age, not fit for conquest.

Though in the Tian Tong Dynasty, girls at fourteen or fifteen reached the legal age for marriage, Chen Jianchen could not accept it. He felt awkward, as if he were becoming some “creepy uncle,” unable to reconcile himself. “Miss, you have emerged untainted from the mire; I greatly admire you,” he said.

Courtesans were divided into three types: those trained from childhood, those bought, and those who came of their own accord. The first two types were bound by contracts, lacking personal freedom; the third enjoyed more liberty. But a pleasure house was rife with low tricks—without caution, even the free ones risked being drugged by guests and losing their chastity, ending in despair and resignation.

Lu Xiyue was clever and understood all this. She had been ready to sacrifice her life for vengeance against Li Yifeng, but Xiang’er’s intervention had saved her. Somehow, after this ordeal, her desire for revenge faded, replaced by a conviction that Chen Jianchen’s arrival was fate, and she was willing to entrust her life to him, seeking happiness and an end to her days of fear.

For most men, this would be a wish fulfilled, but Chen Jianchen’s response was clearly different. Lu Xiyue believed he despised her, her heart filled with sorrow, the most fragile side of a woman laid bare, tears misting her eyes.

Xiang’er, seeing her mistress weeping endlessly, realized Chen Jianchen had refused her. She ran over, knelt with a thud, and cried, “Sir, Xiang’er was reckless on the boat and disobeyed your orders. I accept any punishment. But my mistress and I truly have nowhere else to go—please take us in.”

She kowtowed vigorously.

Chen Jianchen was at a loss—he had no experience handling such situations. He could only help Xiang’er up and slowly try to reason things out…

(So, dear friends, should he accept them or not?)