No Way to Avoid

Autumn deepened, and the leaves of the parasol trees at the Zhao Mansion turned yellow.

Li Tui stood under the veranda for nearly an hour, the morning dew soaking through his cuffs.

The door hinges creaked.

Zhao Yuanchong stepped out, draped in a brocade robe, his feet bare.

"Young Master." Li Tui bowed.

Zhao Yuanchong glanced at him, took a wet towel, and pressed it to his face: "Wang Yuan."

"I am here."

"I had a dream last night." Zhao Yuanchong tossed the towel back into the basin. "Black crows kept cawing outside my window, so noisy, no matter how I tried to shoo them away." He turned, his gaze landing on Li Tui's face. "I had someone interpret it; they said there is a petty person working against me nearby."

The veranda fell silent.

Li Tui lowered his eyes: "I am dull-witted and do not understand the meaning of dreams."

"I had someone interpret it." Zhao Yuanchong paced to a veranda pillar. "They said there is a petty person working against me nearby." He paused, looking at Li Tui. "Tell me, who... could this petty person be?"

Li Tui remained silent.

He knew it had come.

Seven days had passed since he refused to kill Zhao Hao at the market. For these seven days, Zhao Yuanchong had acted as usual, giving orders and scolding as he pleased. But the more he acted this way, the clearer it became to Li Tui—this was the calm before the storm.

With Zhao Yuanchong's temperament, when had he ever been openly defied? That grudge would be settled sooner or later.

And now, the time had come.

"I am dull-witted," Li Tui said slowly, "and do not know what the ill omen in your dream refers to. But as you are the legitimate son of the Zhao Family, how could any common scoundrel get near you?"

The words were smooth; he avoided the trap of the "petty person" and flattered Zhao Yuanchong instead.

Zhao Yuanchong stared at him, then suddenly began to laugh.

The laughter was clear, yet tinged with a chilling edge.

"Wang Yuan," he shook his head, "your tongue is becoming more and more glib."

He stopped beating around the bush: "Let us set aside the dream for now. Yesterday, I went to the Xingtang to handle some business and heard of an old case that was quite interesting."

Li Tui's heart stirred.

"Three years ago, there was a steward of a different surname in the mansion, surnamed Chen." Zhao Yuanchong paced under the parasol tree. "This man was diligent and well-regarded by my father, managing the Spirit Field in the West Suburbs. Unfortunately, he was later exposed for embezzling Spirit Grain. According to clan rules, he should have had his cultivation crippled and been driven from the mansion."

He turned, his gaze sharp as needles: "Guess what happened later?"

Li Tui said nothing.

"My father, mindful of his past contributions, showed mercy." Zhao Yuanchong's voice was flat. "He only docked three years of his monthly allowance and demoted him to a common laborer."

The autumn wind blew, and a parasol leaf drifted down.

"But this Steward Chen," Zhao Yuanchong stepped closer, "not only failed to be grateful, he harbored resentment. Last winter, he actually buried Caltrops under the stone tiles of the Martial Arts Arena, which he was responsible for cleaning."

He paused, his voice deepening: "He intended to injure my second brother while he was practicing."

The veranda was deathly still.

"After the incident, the Xingtang showed no more mercy." Zhao Yuanchong stared at Li Tui, enunciating every word: "He was beaten to death in public, and his corpse was thrown into the mass grave."

Li Tui's fingers, hanging at his sides, curled slightly.

He understood.

This story was ostensibly about Steward Chen, but it was actually meant for him.

Zhao Yuanchong was warning him: one can only take what the master gives; one must not fight for what the master does not grant. Refusing to kill at the market that day was "failing to see one's place."

If he did not know what was good for him, Steward Chen's fate would be his own.

"I understand," Li Tui bowed slowly. "Thank you for your instruction, Young Master."

Zhao Yuanchong straightened up, a careless smile appearing on his face: "As long as you understand."

He turned to walk back, but stopped before the threshold, looking back: "Right, there is a task I need you to handle."

Li Tui looked up.

"That Spirit Field in the West Suburbs has been plagued by wild beasts ruining the Spirit Grain lately." Zhao Yuanchong's tone was casual. "The guards are useless; they've tried to catch the beast several times, but it always escapes. Since you have already reached the Tongmai realm, your skills should be better than theirs."

He paused: "Go guard it tonight, and make sure to eliminate that pest."

Li Tui's heart sank.

The West Suburbs were desolate, over five miles from the Zhao Mansion, and traveling alone at night was inherently dangerous. Zhao Yuanchong wanting him to go alone was certainly not as simple as it appeared on the surface.

"Young Master," he said, his voice steady, "although I have opened two acupoints, my foundation is damaged and my cultivation is shallow. Guarding the Spirit Field and eliminating wild beasts is a task I fear I am not capable of."

"Not capable?" Zhao Yuanchong raised an eyebrow, his smile cooling by three degrees. "I thought you were quite good at assessing the situation at the market earlier? What is this? Now that you are actually asked to do some real work, you start making excuses?"

The words were cutting.

The air on the veranda stagnated.

Li Tui remained silent for a moment, then finally bowed: "I will obey your command."

"That's more like it." Zhao Yuanchong nodded with satisfaction. "That wild beast is cunning by nature and mostly active at night. You will go tonight, keep watch for the entire night, and make sure to capture or kill it."

He paused, then added with a meaningful tone, "If you succeed, there will be rewards. If you fail..." He chuckled softly, "If you can't even handle a beast, what use are you to me?"

Having said that, he flicked his sleeves and returned to his room.

The door closed shut.

Li Tui stood where he was, remaining motionless for a long time.

The autumn wind swept across the courtyard, rustling the fallen leaves.

He knew this was a trap.

There was no avoiding it.

Zhao Yuanchong had made his words final: succeed and be rewarded, fail and be useless. As for what fate awaited a useless person in the Zhao Mansion, the example of Steward Chen had made that crystal clear.

He turned and walked toward his quarters, his steps steady.

Returning to his room, he closed the door.

The room was dim.

Li Tui sat on the edge of the bed, rested for a moment, then stood up and took a short blade from under his pillow. The blade was seven inches long and a finger wide, its edge honed to a sharp point, glinting coldly in the dim light.

Once prepared, he sat cross-legged back on the bed and closed his eyes to regulate his breathing.

True Qi rose from his Dantian, flowing slowly. When it reached the Qingling point on his left arm and the Fengshi point on his right leg, he felt a sense of stagnation. The hidden injuries left behind from forcing his acupoints open last time had improved significantly after treatment, but they had not fully returned to their original state.

In this condition, to venture alone into the desolate wilderness...

Li Tui slowly exhaled a breath of stale air.

Tonight would not be peaceful.