Late at night, an elderly woman and a young woman trudged through the pitch-black mountains, their steps uneven and uncertain. The elder, well past sixty, was panting and utterly exhausted, while the younger, tall and slender, had unusually small feet—even smaller than the deliberately bound “three-inch golden lotuses” of other women. These two were Lin Fang and her attendant, Liu Ma, neither of whom were suited for prolonged travel. Yet, fleeing for their lives, they had no choice but to endure the fatigue and pain, pushing forward with desperate determination.
“Liu Ma, I can’t run anymore. Let’s rest for a while,” Lin Fang gasped.
“Sixth Miss, let this old servant carry you. We can’t stop now,” Liu Ma replied.
“Forget it. You’re too old to carry me.”
“Sixth Miss, let’s hold on a little longer. Once we reach safety, we can rest.”
Since the poison in her body had been neutralized, Lin Fang discovered she had gained a slight ability to see in the dark. Now, supporting each other with Liu Ma, she could distinguish trees, grass, and rocks nearby. To avoid being spotted by pursuers, she deliberately led them through dense thickets.
Meanwhile, back in the cave they had escaped from, Shi Binhua writhed in agony, alternating between screams of pain and bursts of laughter as he scratched frantically at his body. If not for the intervention of those around him, he might have clawed his own face to shreds.
“Pain, pain, pain! It hurts! Save me! It hurts! Ah—!”
“Hahahaha! It itches so much! Haha—ah! Hahaha! It itches to death!”
“Pain, pain, pain! It hurts! Save me! It hurts! Ah—!”
“Haha! Hahaha! It itches so much! Haha—ah! Hahaha! It itches to death!”
…
Watching their master roll on the ground in torment, the onlookers were at a loss. They turned to the guard captain, silently urging him to take charge. The captain pulled out a bottle of knockout drug from his pocket and held it under Shi Binhua’s nose—only to be shocked. Normally, the drug would knock out an ordinary person instantly, and even the strongest would succumb within moments. Yet Shi Binhua, a frail scholar, showed no reaction. After what felt like an eternity, he continued to thrash and howl without any sign of passing out.
With no other choice, the guard captain struck Shi Binhua on the back of the neck, knocking him unconscious. If left unchecked, his frenzied state could lead to disaster—something none of them could afford if Marquis Zhenwu demanded answers.
With Shi Binhua unconscious, the cave fell silent. The accompanying physician checked his pulse but could only shake his head, unable to diagnose the cause of his symptoms.
As they debated their next steps, a few men rushed into the cave, their faces pale with terror. Stammering, they reported to the guard captain that only a handful of their group had survived; the rest lay dead.
The captain refused to believe it. “Nonsense! The Lin family’s sixth daughter is just a weak girl, and that Liu Ma is an old crone. How could they kill dozens of men?”
The survivor insisted, “Captain, it’s true! I don’t know what kind of hidden weapon the sixth daughter used, but our brothers died without a sound.”
Before the captain could berate him further, another voice called out, “Captain! Come quick! There are more here!”
Deep inside the cave, on an oversized bed that could comfortably sleep four or five men, an enormous blanket was spread out. Beneath it lay four guards, their specially tailored uniforms marking them as Shi Binhua’s personal attendants. But now, they were lifeless, their faces frozen in identical expressions of terror.
Shi Binhua was notorious for his lust. The oversized bed and blanket were custom-made for his depraved desires. Many women who had fallen for his charms had been lured here, only to meet tragic ends after satisfying his cravings.
“Physician Gao, examine them. Determine the cause of death,” the captain ordered.
Gao, the military doctor, stepped forward. After a thorough inspection, he shook his head. There were no wounds or other visible symptoms—just like the dozens of corpses found along the path where Lin Fang had fled.
By dawn, the bodies had been uncovered. The sight made everyone gasp. The expressions on the dead men’s faces mirrored those of the four guards on the bed. Gao examined each one but found no clues—no wounds, no signs of poisoning. The cause of death remained a mystery.
To avoid drawing attention, the captain ordered the bodies buried where they lay.
Shi Binhua woke three days later. When told of the failed pursuit and the heavy losses, he was filled with regret. He cursed himself for being too hasty and blamed fate for his untimely affliction. The unbearable pain and itching had plagued him for a decade, and now, with his prey slipping away, he seethed with frustration.
What he didn’t know was that his old ailment had flared up precisely because of his lecherous intentions toward Lin Fang—and this episode was worse than any before. Over the years, countless doctors had dosed him with various anesthetics, building up his resistance. That was why the knockout drug had no effect on him.
Shi Binhua wasn’t worried about Lin Fang escaping to expose him. The cave was his carefully chosen hideout—without a guide, no one could find their way out. He was confident his men would eventually recapture her.
Meanwhile, Lin Fang and Liu Ma stood hesitantly outside a lone house, debating whether to enter.
The landscape stretched vast and empty, with no other dwellings in sight. The house, with its high walls and spacious courtyard, resembled a wealthy family’s countryside retreat. Yet the sounds of chickens, pigs, and an occasional cow from within clashed with that image. The wide-open gate added to the strangeness.
After two days and nights of fleeing, both women were exhausted, cold, and starving. If this place harbored danger, they no longer had the strength to run. They had no choice but to take the risk and ask for help.
Liu Ma’s throat was too sore to speak, so Lin Fang called out, “Is anyone home?”
After several unanswered calls, she gave up and helped Liu Ma inside. As they stepped into the courtyard, Lin Fang felt an odd sense of familiarity.
From the outside, the house looked like a wealthy estate, but the interior was arranged like a typical farmhouse—only much larger. The square courtyard had six main rooms, five on the east side, three on the west, and a kitchen next to the eastern wing. A row of shorter buildings on the west likely served as stables, while chicken coops and pigpens occupied the southern side. All the animal enclosures were open, allowing chickens to roam freely, pigs to wander, and a cow to bask in the weak sunlight.
The center of the yard was divided into neat plots, some with dried vines still clinging to wooden frames—likely remnants of bean or loofah plants left uncleared after the cold set in.
Fruit trees circled the plots—apple, pear, hawthorn, peach, apricot, jujube, and even rare cherry trees. Most striking was a cluster of dwarf jujube trees near the main house, their distinctive shape reminding Lin Fang of the ones in her maternal grandfather’s courtyard.
“Is anyone home? My mother and I just want some hot water,” Lin Fang called again as they reached the main house.
Still no answer. Exchanging glances with Liu Ma, Lin Fang hesitantly lifted the thick curtain over the eastern door. The door was locked—but only loosely. Removing the lock, she pushed it open, and the sight inside deepened her sense of déjà vu.
Against the wall stood an Eight Immortals table flanked by two armchairs. Above it hung a painting of the God of Longevity. A tray on the table held a teapot and neatly inverted cups. Dust covered everything, suggesting the owners had been gone for some time.
Pulling aside the curtain to the inner chamber, Lin Fang saw a kang bed by the window, piled with folded bedding. A square table against the opposite wall doubled as a dressing table, with a charcoal brazier beneath it—long cold and covered in dust.
Helping Liu Ma sit on the kang, Lin Fang unfolded the bedding. “Liu Ma, it seems the owners are away. Never mind propriety—lie down and rest. I’ll look for food.”
Liu Ma shook her head, insisting Lin Fang rest instead. But Lin Fang refused. “Given our situation, we may not return home anytime soon. From now on, we only have each other. I’m younger and stronger, so let me take care of things first. Don’t worry about master-servant formalities. Once you’ve rested and we’ve eaten, we’ll figure out what to do next. Understand?”
Tearfully, Liu Ma relented and lay down. Lin Fang tucked her in, then hobbled on her aching feet to search the other rooms.
The opposite chamber mirrored the first, empty of food. The kitchen, unlocked, confirmed her suspicions—but aside from a water jug frozen and cracked, there was nothing edible. The remaining rooms were securely locked, their windows immovable. Defeated, Lin Fang slumped to the ground, too numb with cold to feel anything.
(To be continued…)
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage