Stepping Out of the Cage

Chen Ping had swept the flagstone avenue at Lin Manor for three whole years.

He knew every vein in every flagstone by heart, along with every stubborn patch of moss in the cracks.

But today, the ground beneath his feet felt entirely different.

His hand held another in his palm. It was rough and cold, its knuckles still swollen and red from years of soaking in icy water.

Yun Niang walked very slowly, her body almost pressed against Chen Ping's arm. She took each step lightly, as if afraid of crushing some fragile dream.

As they passed through the hanging-flower gate, Yun Niang instinctively shrank her neck and tried to pull her hand from Chen Ping's grasp.

It was the servility she had acquired over many years. On the main avenue of the master's household, servants weren't fit to walk shoulder to shoulder with their heads held high.

Chen Ping didn't look back. He simply tightened his grip, like an iron clamp locking around her hand, and firmly led her onward.

The warmth from his palm seeped through Yun Niang's icy fingertips, little by little, into her panicked heart.

Behind the rockery in the corner, several matrons who loved nothing more than gossiping were huddled together.

In the past, even if Yun Niang took one extra steamed bun, they would spend ages scolding her with pointed remarks.

Just a few days ago, their ringleader, Granny Zhang, had even threatened to tear Yun Niang's mouth apart.

Now they cowered together like startled quail, trembling all over.

They stole glances at the tall figure in a blue silk robe, a bronze token hanging at his waist, and hardly dared to breathe.

Chen Ping looked straight ahead, not even glancing toward the corner.

In the past, he might have wondered how to get his revenge.

But now, he was the third-place winner of the Imperial Military Examination, a wealthy man with thousands of taels of silver to his name, and a martial artist who had killed before.

A few ants that only barked at the weak weren't even worth making him stop.

This indifference sent a chill creeping through the matrons to the very marrow of their bones, more frightening than blows or curses.

The vermilion gate stood right before them.

Old Zhao, the gatekeeper, had long since bowed low and opened the side gate as wide as it would go, as if he wished he could saw the threshold away too.

As they crossed it, the midday sun poured down without a thing to block it, stinging their eyes.

Yun Niang instinctively raised her sleeve to shield her eyes, her body trembling slightly.

"Sister Yun."

Chen Ping stopped and turned sideways, blocking the most dazzling instant of sunlight for her. His voice was low and steady.

"Open your eyes and take a look. From now on, no one can lock you up again."

Yun Niang slowly lowered her sleeve.

The street beyond the gate bustled with people. The cries of vendors and the clatter of carts and horses swept toward them. The muffled sounds she had heard from behind the high walls became a clamor she could reach out and touch.

Only after they climbed into the hired carriage, shut away from the eyes of outsiders, did Yun Niang seem to go boneless, sinking limply against the cushions.

She clutched the thin manumission document in her hands, running her fingertips over its bright red official seal again and again.

The uneven imprint of the seal pressed into her fingertips, faintly painful, yet it made her feel wonderfully grounded.

"It's real... Brother Ping, it's real..."

She murmured to herself, her gaze still a little dazed. The immense shock clearly hadn't yet worn off.

Seeing her like this, Chen Ping felt a pang of heartache.

He took a red cloth bundle from his breast and gently drew over Yun Niang's scarred left hand.

At her wrist was an old scald mark, left two years ago when the kitchen steward accidentally spilled hot soup.

A cool touch slid over her wrist.

Yun Niang started and looked down. A solid-gold bracelet had been slipped onto her wrist.

The wide band was carved with delicate ruyi patterns, perfectly hiding the ugly scar.

The gold gleamed against her flushed skin, making her look especially elegant—and the bracelet especially dazzling.

"This... How much did this cost?"

As if it had burned her, Yun Niang hurried to take it off.

"You child, you've only just bought your freedom. There are expenses everywhere. How can you waste money on some useless trinket? Quick, take it back!"

Chen Ping pressed down on her hand. Watching her brows knot with worry, he couldn't help laughing.

At the gambling house, he had seen gamblers whose eyes had gone red from losing, and stewards who fawned and scraped for favor.

In the arena, he had seen opponents brimming with bloodlust and officials putting on false airs.

But this woman in front of him, at a time like this, wasn't celebrating that her long hardship was finally over. Instead, she was worrying about the silver in his pocket.

Her down-to-earth nagging softened the heart that had grown increasingly cold amid killing and scheming, making it feel real again.

"You can't return it, Sister Yun."

Chen Ping clasped her hand in his and gave the gold bracelet a gentle pat, smiling as he said,

"From now on, our household will have plenty of money. Forget a gold bracelet—even if it's a mountain of gold and silver, I'll earn it for you."

"Such nonsense..."

Yun Niang shot him a reproachful look, though her eyes grew even redder. She gently stroked the bracelet with her fingers and no longer had the heart to take it off.

The carriage clattered through the bustling market.

Chen Ping lifted one corner of the curtain and pointed at the dazzling shops outside, as well as the passersby in bright clothes.

"Sister Yun, look. That's a cloth shop in the east of the city. From now on, we won't wear the coarse clothes servants wear. You can buy any fabric you like. That's the Drunken Immortal Pavilion. I hear their soy-braised duck is the best around. I'll take you to try it one of these days."

There was a lightness in Chen Ping's voice that had never been there before.

"Qinghe County is big, but this is only the beginning. From now on, we won't be confined to that little patch of sky. Wherever we want to go, we'll go."

Yun Niang followed his finger. The timidity in her eyes gradually faded, replaced by a longing for the future—a light like deadwood budding anew in spring.

At last, the carriage stopped in a quiet lane in the south of the city.

It wasn't as bustling as the city center, but it was peaceful and refined, home mostly to scholars and comfortable households.

Chen Ping helped Yun Niang down and pushed open a wooden door that was a little old but had been scrubbed perfectly clean.

"We're here. This is our new home."

It was a small, two-courtyard residence. Though modest, it had neat rows of blue bricks underfoot and was well kept.

In one corner of the courtyard grew an old pomegranate tree. Though it was already late autumn and its leaves had yellowed, several split red pomegranates still hung from its branches like festive little lanterns.

Yun Niang stood in the middle of the courtyard and looked around.

There were no stewards shouting at her, no endless chores, no days spent in fear and trepidation.

There was only the blue sky above, the pomegranate tree beside her, and the man before her to whom she could entrust the rest of her life.

She looked at the pomegranate tree, and as she did, her shoulders suddenly began to shake violently.

The grievances, fear, and bitterness she had suppressed for years finally burst forth in loud, heart-wrenching sobs.

Chen Ping said nothing. He simply went over and gently drew her into his arms, letting her tears soak his newly bought silk robe.

Cry. You'll feel better once you let it out.

Cry out all the suffering you had endured at Lin Manor, all those days when you were worked like an ox and a horse.

She cried for a full incense stick's worth of time.

By the time Yun Niang fell silent, her eyes were swollen like peaches. Embarrassed, she pushed Chen Ping away and wiped her face as she muttered,

"Crying as soon as we move into our new home—it's unlucky, really unlucky..."

"What's unlucky about it? They're tears of joy."

Chen Ping smiled and handed her a handkerchief.

The two of them began putting their little home in order.

Though the courtyard had come ready-bought and the furniture was all there, everything still needed a good wipe-down.

Once Yun Niang started working, she couldn't stop. Chen Ping couldn't hold her back, so he let her bustle around with all the jars and pots. It seemed that only by keeping busy could she convince herself this wasn't a dream.

While Yun Niang was busy in the kitchen, Chen Ping slipped into the bedroom.

He locked the doors and windows, then pried up a blue brick beneath the bed. It was the hiding place he had picked out long ago.

He stuffed inside the more than four thousand taels in banknotes he had brought with him, along with the advanced manual for Shattered Stone Palm and the bloodstained Evil Ghost Mask.

Once he had finished, he scattered a thin layer of incense ash over the hiding place. Only then did he put the brick back and slide the bed into place.

A clever hare had three burrows. Even in this haven of tenderness, the caution carved into his bones never slackened.

These things were the foundation of his place in this world, and the confidence that let him protect this home.

Night fell, and warm yellow light shone in the little courtyard.

On the square table in the main room sat two steaming bowls of noodles.

There were no delicacies, just the simplest plain noodles, topped with two fried eggs browned to a golden color, a handful of green onions, and a few drops of sesame oil.

It was the first meal they had eaten in their own home.

"Eat up, before the noodles get soggy."

Yun Niang passed Chen Ping his chopsticks, smiling gently. In the lamplight, her once-haggard face seemed to take on a captivating charm.

Chen Ping took the chopsticks and dug in.

The noodles were springy, the broth fresh and savory, the fried eggs crisp on the outside and tender within.

After a mouthful of hot broth, Chen Ping let out a long breath.

He had won thousands of taels at the gambling house and killed a formidable enemy in the arena. Those thrills had been intense, bloody.

But the satisfaction this bowl of noodles brought him was solid and enduring.

This was what it meant to live.

He lifted his head and looked at Yun Niang, who was eating across from him in small bites. The thought of immortality in his heart seemed to grow more tangible.

Immortality wasn't just about living. It was about protecting this simple, homey life for a long, long time.