Escape, Master's Wife

The courtyard wall was not high; Lu Chen vaulted over it, though he stumbled a few steps upon landing.

Angry shouts from the bailiffs rang out behind him.

He plunged into the alley without looking back, shouting at the top of his lungs as he ran:

"Thief! Catch the thief!"

This was the secret code he had previously agreed upon with his brothers.

If the government officials came knocking, they were to shout about catching a thief.

If it were enemies seeking revenge, they were to shout that the officials had arrived!

Lu Chen knew well that when the yamen came to make arrests, they never stopped at just one; they would round up the whole lot.

If the bailiffs couldn't catch the primary target, they would turn around and make the criminal's kin and brothers take the fall.

If he fled like this, Blind Man and the others would surely suffer.

Lu Chen shouted as he ran, needing his brothers to hear him so they could flee immediately and avoid being captured by the bailiffs.

The bailiffs were in hot pursuit behind him.

Lu Chen kept his head down and sprinted forward.

Thanks to the movement technique he had previously drawn from the martial arts card pool, his steps felt a third lighter as he channeled it. Combined with his familiarity with Sheep Dung Alley, he made several sharp turns and detours, diving into narrow gaps and dark lanes, eventually leaving the bailiffs far behind.

He did not choose to flee outside the city, but instead turned east, heading straight for Plum Blossom Martial Hall.

Liu Qi usually lived in the side rooms of the hall.

Lu Chen vaulted over the wall and landed silently in the martial hall's courtyard. He walked straight to the east side room and pushed the door; it wasn't latched, and it creaked open.

The room was pitch black.

There were no lights, nor were there any sounds of people.

Liu Qi was not there. In the middle of the night like this, he must have been accompanying Master Deng to the theater.

Lu Chen's eyes brightened; this meant that the Mistress was home alone at this moment.

He immediately left the room and headed straight for the inner residence.

Vaulting over the wall again to enter, he intentionally let his landing sound a bit heavy.

With Master Deng away, the inner residence held only two young maidservants, an old, hard-of-hearing chore woman, and the Mistress herself.

Lu Chen walked to the door of the main room and was about to raise his hand to knock when the door suddenly swung open from the inside.

The Mistress stood in the doorway draped in a plain white nightgown, the sash tied loosely, outlining her curvaceous waist.

A pair of long, jade-like legs extended from beneath the hem, her bare feet slender and straight, her ankles delicate.

Seeing someone break in at such a late hour, a cold glint flashed in her eyes, and her toes lashed out in a sudden kick.

Lu Chen hurriedly raised his arms to block, feeling a supple yet vicious hidden force penetrate his body. His internal organs felt as if they had been suddenly twisted, a sweet, bloody taste surged into his throat, and he nearly vomited blood on the spot.

He had been slashed and struck by clubs while tangling with the bailiffs earlier, yet he hadn't felt much harm.

Who would have thought that this seemingly casual kick from the Mistress would cause his blood to surge so violently that he nearly lost his life right there.

"Who is so bold as to court death?"

The Mistress asked in a cold voice, but upon recognizing the person in the moonlight, she paused slightly:

"Lu Chen?"

"Mistress..." Lu Chen managed to respond, his breathing unstable.

She gathered her loose collar with her fingertips and frowned:

"Breaking into my bedroom in the middle of the night—you had better have a decent explanation."

Lu Chen flopped to his knees, pleading pitifully:

"Mistress, save me! I have been framed. Tonight, the bailiffs broke down my door, insisting I killed a scoundrel who dealt in usury. I had no other choice but to climb the wall and escape. In this Wen'an County, I have no kin or friends; only you have always treated me the best. I beg you to give me a way to survive."

The moon hung high.

The cold wind whistled.

Lu Chen lowered his head after speaking, kneeling motionless on the cold ground.

The Mistress stood before him, silent.

Lu Chen's gaze dropped, landing just right on the Mistress's bare feet. They were slender and symmetrical, her toes as round and uniform as pearls, slightly reddened from the cold floor, exuding an indescribable delicacy.

His heart sank suddenly.

That kick just now had nearly given him internal injuries; this was definitely not the strength of an ordinary woman. The Mistress was at least an expert in external force!

Yet, Plum Blossom Martial Hall had always built its reputation on fist techniques.

Why, when facing an enemy, was her opening move such a sharp and sinister leg technique?

Could it be that Plum Blossom Martial Hall was hiding a profound leg art unknown to outsiders?

It seemed the foundation of the Plum Blossom Martial Hall was far deeper than Lu Chen had realized.

After a long silence, the mistress finally spoke, her voice devoid of any discernible joy or anger:

"Get up. It's cold outside; come inside to talk."

Lu Chen kept his head bowed: "This disciple dare not..."

The Great Liang Dynasty had a relatively open culture, but for a disciple to enter his mistress's chambers in the dead of night was still contrary to propriety. If word got out, it would inevitably invite gossip.

"So young, yet so full of heavy thoughts."

The mistress let out a soft huff: "In this bitter cold, are you planning to freeze to death at my doorstep? If you have something to report, come in. If you fall ill from the cold, there is no one here to brew medicine for you."

"Thank you... Mistress!"

Lu Chen rose and stepped into the room, where a wave of warm fragrance greeted him.

As his gaze swept the room, he saw a pot of wine warming on the table, beside which sat a solitary lotus-leaf cup, the dregs of the wine at the bottom shimmering with an amber glow.

The mistress was not asleep in the dead of night, but drinking alone.

Lu Chen's heart stirred, and he mused to himself:

Could it be that she is lonely in her boudoir and unable to sleep?

The mistress casually pulled a silver fox-fur robe around herself. Beneath the hem, a glimpse of a fair ankle was visible, her bare feet resting on the cold floor as she said softly:

"Your master has had many social engagements lately and returns late. I had nothing to do, so I warmed some wine to pass the time."

Lu Chen lowered his head in silence, sneering inwardly.

Many social engagements? Master Deng is likely off enjoying himself with that qingyi singer from the opera troupe right now.

It was pitiful that someone as shrewd as the mistress could be fooled by such a clumsy excuse.

However, this provided Lu Chen with an opportunity.

Master Deng was a snob; if he were here, he certainly wouldn't help.

The mistress was different. She was cold on the outside but warm on the inside, and in the dead of this cold night, under the solitary lamp, was the moment her heart was most likely to soften.

The mistress sat on a stool, crossing one leg and gently swinging her small foot:

"Tell me everything that happened tonight, in detail."

Lu Chen recounted the events in a steady stream.

He omitted his personal grudge with Han Lao Wu, claiming only that the constables had suddenly arrived to make an arrest, painting himself as a pitiful victim of a frame-up.

The mistress listened quietly, her gaze lingering for a moment on the knife wounds on Lu Chen's body, though she asked no further questions.

When he finished, she simply said calmly: "Go rest in the west wing guest room for tonight. We will discuss this tomorrow."

"Yes." Lu Chen turned to leave.

"Wait."

The mistress suddenly called him back, taking a medicine chest from the elm cabinet against the wall and handing it to him: "Treat your wounds."

"Yes." Lu Chen took the chest and backed out of the room.

He arrived at the guest room, where the furnishings were simple, consisting only of a bed and a table.

Lu Chen stripped off his blood-stained cotton jacket, applied golden sore powder to his wounds, and finished bandaging them. He lay down on the hard bed, fully clothed, and replayed the day's events in his mind.

The yamen never cared for the truth when handling cases.

Whenever a murder occurred, they simply grabbed whoever had a past grudge with the deceased to serve as a scapegoat.

They would cycle through the torture instruments in the prison, then send clerks to the prisoner's home to extort money.

If enough silver was paid, they would release the person. If the family had no money to bribe them and the prisoner couldn't withstand the torture, they would force a thumbprint, extract a confession, and the case would be closed.

Since this case involved Master Feng, there would only be more people arrested.

Whether he could survive this ordeal depended on whether the mistress would help him tomorrow...

It wasn't until the first light of dawn that he managed to close his eyes for a brief moment.

"Lu Chen!"

A maid's voice called from outside the door, "The mistress summons you to the main hall."

He rose immediately and straightened his clothes.

As he pushed open the door, the morning light made him squint.

The maid led him to the main hall, where both Master Deng and the mistress were waiting.