Chapter 56: Flying Needle

“Seventh Young Master, your needle case is missing.”

“No need to panic. It’s not missing—I gave it away.”

“Gave it away? Seventh Young Master, you mustn’t! Seeing the needles is like seeing you. It’s improper to give the case away.”

“There’s nothing improper about it. You needn’t concern yourself further. You may leave, Steward.”

“Yes, Seventh Young Master.”

After his medicinal bath, Qi Biao’s black hair draped over his shoulders and back, still dripping water. He paid it no mind, letting it dry naturally. At this moment, he wasn’t wearing the cold, unchanging expression he usually showed in public. Instead, his face was calm, and upon closer inspection, one might even catch glimpses of gentleness. He walked to his desk, opened the pile of letters, and unfolded them one by one. Some he set aside, while others he marked with a few circles or even wrote a few lines on before placing them in a small box on the bookshelf.

Once he finished, Qi Biao spoke up: “Nanny, is there any sweet soup?”

A voice answered from outside: “Yes, yes! This old servant has been keeping it warm for you, Seventh Young Master. I’ll bring it right away.”

A moment later, the nanny knocked and entered, placing a bowl of red date, goji berry, and silver ear soup on the table. She advised, “Seventh Young Master, drink just a little first, or you won’t have room for dinner. If you really want more, you can have it an hour or so after your meal.”

“It’s fine,” Qi Biao said, stirring the soup with a spoon as he spoke to the nanny. “I’ve already eaten at the Qi residence. You and Steward Qi can have the food prepared here.”

“Seventh Young Master, forgive this old servant for speaking out of turn,” the nanny said cautiously. “Did you give the needle case to the Sixth Miss of the Qi family?”

Qi Biao sighed. “Nanny, what’s done is done. There’s no use discussing it further.”

“Yes, Seventh Young Master. This old servant doesn’t meddle in matters of the martial world. I only remember that when Madam gave you the needle case, she said it was to be passed down to sons, not daughters.”

“Nanny, if the needles had been given to Eighth Sister back then, even with her disabled legs, she could have held on until Elder Brother and I arrived. She wouldn’t have had to die helplessly.”

“Ah, that was many years ago. That woman has already paid with her life. There’s no need for you to grieve anymore, Seventh Young Master. By giving the needle case to Sixth Miss Lin, are you treating her as Eighth Sister?”

“I don’t know.”

Lin Fang turned the small needle case over and over in her hands. Wow, so these were the legendary flying needles? A martial arts treasure? So this was what they looked like—just a square metal box covered in carvings of creatures that looked neither like dragons nor snakes, with maybe a hint of gecko. Nothing particularly mysterious about it. She pressed the mechanism lightly, and the lid popped open silently. Inside, neatly arranged, were at least a hundred fine needles. At first glance, they didn’t seem any different from her mother’s embroidery needles.

“Ouch!”

“Sixth Miss, did you hurt yourself? Young Master Qi warned that until you’ve mastered throwing the needles, you mustn’t open the case carelessly. See, you’re bleeding! Close it quickly!” Xiao Geng’s wife was frantic, almost reaching out to shut the case herself, but without her mistress’s permission, she didn’t dare act on her own.

“It’s fine.”

Shaking her head, Lin Fang sucked on her finger until the bleeding stopped. Then she picked up a needle and examined it under the light. Only then did she realize these needles were indeed different from her mother’s embroidery needles. The tips had barbs, like expansion nails from her past life—easy to push in but hard to pull out. If these needles pierced someone’s flesh and were yanked out like ordinary needles, they’d tear away a chunk of skin. In this era of pure handcrafting, creating needles this precise was no small feat. Lin Fang thought to herself that this must be Qi Biao’s treasured possession, and she mustn’t damage it.

Carefully returning the needle to the case, Lin Fang didn’t dare be careless again. She inspected the interior walls of the case, which seemed no different from any ordinary box. However, the inner side of the lid had raised lines that, at first glance, looked like painted parallel stripes. Running her fingers over them, she realized they were fine grooves, just like the barbs on the needles. Under the light, she saw the grooves were just wide enough to hold a needle. Turning the case upside down, she found the bottom had similar stripes, though slightly denser.

After closing the case, Lin Fang noticed a small indentation on the metal surface. Qi Biao had warned her never to touch it unless in a life-or-death situation, as it could easily cause accidental harm.

Xiao Geng’s wife sighed in relief. “Oh, Sixth Miss, you’ve finally closed it! You scared this servant half to death. Shall I put it away for you?”

Lin Fang nodded. “Mm. Bring me those throwing needles to look at.”

Carefully storing the needle case in a hidden drawer of her dressing table, Xiao Qin’s wife brought over ten iron needles resembling knitting needles, each only twice the length of Lin Fang’s palm. Lin Fang found it amusing—they were just like the darts her nephew used to play with in her past life, only thinner and with blunter tips, likely to prevent beginners from injuring themselves or others.

“Haha,” Lin Fang laughed. “From now on, you’ll all have to stay away from me. With my sense of direction—pointing east but hitting west—who knows where these needles might fly!”

Qian’er, who was clumsily learning to knit, set down the already abused and discolored swatch she’d been working on, shaking her sore wrist. “Don’t worry, Sixth Miss. This servant and Xian’er will always stay by your side. It’s fine if we get hurt, but you mustn’t injure yourself.”

Injure herself? Well, that was highly possible. The reason her mother hadn’t let her learn embroidery was precisely because her hand-eye coordination was so poor that embroidery amounted to self-torture—with others caught in the crossfire. Lin Fang sighed silently. It seemed the road to mastering needle-throwing would be long and arduous. Well, perseverance was key.

“Sixth Miss, look! How’s my handwriting?” Ten-year-old Xian’er, lively and mischievous, bounced over with a sheet of paper.

“Pfft—hahaha!” Before Lin Fang could speak, Xiao Geng’s wife and Qian’er burst into laughter. Xiao Geng’s wife pointed at the paper in Xian’er’s hand. “Xian’er, Xian’er, you truly live up to your name. These characters look like a tangled mess of threads!”

Xian’er pouted. “What do you mean? You can’t even read! Sixth Miss, is it really that bad?”

Lin Fang also laughed. “You’ve improved compared to a few days ago. At least today, we can tell you were writing characters and not just… hahaha!”

And not just dog poop. Lin Fang couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud and instead dissolved into laughter.

Xian’er refused to back down. “If Sixth Miss can practice the Five Animals Exercise every day, this servant can practice writing every day too. One day, I’ll write beautifully, and then we’ll see who dares laugh at me!”

Suppressing her giggles, Lin Fang teased Xian’er. “Good! My Xian’er has ambition. You’ll surely grow into a talented lady. But for now, shouldn’t you accompany me in tossing apricot pits?”

“Oh! Forgive me, Sixth Miss! This servant will clean up right away and play with you.”

Lin Fang had assigned tasks to Xiao Geng’s wife, Qian’er, and Xian’er based on their strengths. Those who weren’t skilled in certain areas were given extra practice. Xiao Qin’s wife was clever and steady, having been personally trained by Granny Liu, so she didn’t need further polishing. She was responsible for Lin Fang’s meals and daily chores. Qian’er disliked needlework, so Lin Fang deliberately put her in charge of sewing and clothing. Xian’er, still young and energetic, was assigned to handling ink and brushes to cultivate patience while also indulging her playful nature by keeping Lin Fang company.

As they played, Lin Fang chatted with the three of them. “Xiao Geng’s wife, I’ll give you three days off on the fifteenth of this month to visit your husband in the village. When you return, bring me some green wheat ears. They’re best roasted—chewy and fragrant.”

Xiao Geng’s wife had received her monthly ration of straw paper today. Tomorrow was the first of the month, and Lin Fang calculated that the fifteenth would be just about right for her time off.

Qian’er’s knitting was too loose, and her needles slipped out. In her panic, she unraveled the painstakingly knitted swatch and had to start over. Xiao Geng’s wife was helping her wind yarn when she heard Lin Fang’s words and shook her head. “Just for a handful of green wheat, Sixth Miss needn’t give this servant special leave. The clothing workshop has people coming and going every day. They can bring some back for you.”

Every year before the wheat harvest, Li Gen would report to Li Cuimei for instructions. Lin Fang always took this opportunity to request that Li Gen select the plumpest, fullest ears first to save as seeds for the next year. Though it was just a child’s whim, it wasn’t much trouble, so Li Cuimei tacitly allowed it. Li Gen and his son naturally complied. Their young mistress was extraordinarily clever—the old woman had reminded him of this more than once—so Li Gen never treated Sixth Miss as an ordinary child. Over three years, Li Gen was delighted to find that most of the wheat ears in their fields were plump and full, yielding at least 40% more than others. He had absolute faith in his young mistress.

Anyone who’d studied biology would recognize this as selective breeding based on genetic principles—eliminating specimens with undesirable dominant traits and preserving those with desirable ones. After several rounds of selection, all remaining specimens met the criteria, just like the wheat in Lin Fang’s fields. Every ear was plump and full, naturally resulting in higher yields. And, of course, roasted green wheat ears tasted even more delicious.

Lin Fang chuckled. “If you never visit your husband, and he can’t freely enter the inner courtyard, Granny Liu will worry herself to death.”

Xiao Geng’s wife vaguely sensed what her mistress meant but couldn’t be sure. After all, no matter how clever Sixth Miss was, she was still just a child of five. Curious, she asked, “Why would my grandmother worry?”

“Of course she’d worry! If you two never see each other, where will her great-grandchildren come from?” Lin Fang said with utter seriousness.

The moment these words left Lin Fang’s mouth, Qian’er nearly stabbed herself with her knitting needle. Xian’er, bewildered, asked, “Sixth Miss, why would Granny Liu have no grandchildren if sister-in-law doesn’t see her husband?”

Xian’er’s question made Xiao Geng’s wife blush even harder. Qian’er, her face red, tugged at Xian’er’s sleeve and shook her head, signaling her to stop. Though confused, Xian’er didn’t press further, but her big eyes darted between them, burning with curiosity.

“Oh, Sixth Miss, you—you really—” At a loss for words, Xiao Geng’s wife hurried toward the door. “This servant will go warm your milk.”

Lin Fang had a habit of drinking milk before bed.

After drinking her milk and lying down, Lin Fang muffled her laughter as she recalled the trio’s reactions. People in ancient times were so reserved. In her past life, sanitary pads were openly displayed in supermarkets, advertised daily on TV, with children reciting the slogans and posters plastered everywhere. People were completely desensitized to it. Especially working in a hospital, where colleagues joked without restraint—if such behavior were displayed here, they’d be beaten as degenerates.

Haha, teasing maids and servants was its own kind of amusement. Lin Fang, utterly unrepentant, drifted off to sleep with these thoughts.