Chapter Fifty-Four: The Flower of Misfortune

In the blink of an eye, another day had passed. Tomorrow would be Ye Xin's wedding day. Having learned her lesson last time, Deng Qiaoying dared not make a grand spectacle of it this time and tried to keep things as low-key as possible. Nevertheless, the Ye household still bustled with excitement.

Tie Shudeng was certain to attend, representing the royal family, and Wang Meng had simply taken up residence at the Ye house—being the only son of the Grand Commandant, his status was second only to Tie Shudeng. The Han brothers had arrived as well, and with Lord Wen Hongren presiding as the principal wedding official tomorrow, the Ye family’s honor was thoroughly upheld.

As dusk fell, Qiu Jiecha entered the Ye residence, accompanied by seven old generals of the Celestial Wolf Legion. The legion was divided into eight main camps, and all their commanders were present—save one. General Mao Cunliang had been assassinated at the night market several days before. Upon hearing the news, Qiu Jiecha flew into a rage and nearly led his men to the Zong family for an explanation, but Ye Xin had forcibly suppressed the matter.

Though it was suppressed, Qiu Jiecha and his peers could not help but feel aggrieved. If the Wolf Commander were still alive, there was no way Ye Xin would appear so weak and easily bullied. Yet, as Ye Xin was the Wolf Commander’s legitimate son and sole heir to his legacy, they had no choice but to endure.

Even so, Qiu Jiecha had staged a dramatic “wolf pack rampage” through the streets, terrifying countless bystanders. Zong Zhentang, head of the Zong family and known for making daily scenes at the Grand Commandant’s residence, vanished at the news; not even showing up for court.

The Wolf Commander, Ye Guanhai, had died under mysterious circumstances, leaving the old generals of the Celestial Wolf Legion with smoldering resentment—like overinflated bladders ready to burst at the slightest touch. Should the situation escalate, there was no telling if Qiu Jiecha might not lead the legion straight to the Zong family’s door.

The Zong family’s flight from the Great Chen Kingdom had already cost them dearly; there was no need to provoke a pack of madmen.

Meanwhile, Ye Xin showed none of a groom’s anticipation. He sat on the grass in the rear courtyard, playing with a little purple mink.

Ye Ling hurried in from outside, smiling. “Brother, I did as you instructed. Mother wanted to prepare a grand bridal procession, but I told her Zong Ying is just a concubine’s daughter—letting her marry into our Ye family is honor enough. Anything more would make it seem we care too much, and that would embarrass our house. We argued for a good while, but in the end, Mother relented.”

“Well done,” Ye Xin nodded. “You’re becoming quite the diplomat, Ling’er.”

She giggled, settling beside him. “I just know what Mother cares about most. In any dispute, if I say something might harm the Ye family’s reputation, she immediately hesitates.”

“Seems you’ve grasped her weak point,” Ye Xin laughed. “But don’t overuse it. Fine steel is for the blade’s edge.”

“I know,” she replied playfully. “But weren’t you pondering something, brother? Have you figured it out? Tell me—I might help you think it through.”

“I’m trying to fathom what trick the Zong family is playing,” Ye Xin said after a pause. “It’s almost certainly about the Celestial Wolf Codex. Ling’er, do you know where Aunt has hidden it?”

“I don’t know,” Ye Ling replied. “Years ago I asked and got quite the beating. I never dared bring it up again.”

Ye Xin was about to speak when Xue Baiqi strode quickly in from outside, his expression grave. He didn’t even greet Ye Ling, but said straightaway, “Young Master, I’ve discovered something very strange…”

“What is it?” Ye Xin asked.

Xue Baiqi produced a thick bundle of documents from his robe and spread them on the grass beside Ye Xin, pointing to various places. “Here, and here… and here. Zong Bieli and Xiao Mojin both seem to have joined a mysterious organization.”

Ye Xin frowned, picking up the documents Xue Baiqi indicated and reading them carefully.

“I’ve sorted through all the secret letters,” Xue Baiqi said. “I tried arranging them chronologically, but many have no date. I could only estimate by the paper’s condition and the ink’s wear.”

“Oh?”

“Paper yellows with age and becomes brittle inside,” Xue Baiqi continued. “These secret missives are at least five or six years old. Before that, the documents are mostly trivial matters—nothing useful to us. So, about five or six years ago, the Zong family got involved in something major.”

“All the changes begin with these two letters,” Xue Baiqi went on. “I don’t know who wrote them—the contents seem unremarkable, but after that, the Zong family’s focus shifted dramatically.”

Ye Xin examined the two letters Xue Baiqi had highlighted.

“Young Master, do you see anything?” Xue Baiqi asked softly.

“What do you see?” Ye Xin countered.

“There’s something odd about the handwriting—it changes a lot, yet each has its own features. They’re easy to distinguish.”

“That’s because they were all written left-handed,” Ye Xin remarked. “Interesting… Baiqi, are there more letters from this person?”

“There are only four in total, then he seems to vanish,” Xue Baiqi replied, handing Ye Xin two more letters from the grass.

Ye Xin read all four letters carefully, word by word, then mused, “Before the first letter, they must have met in person, and the writer clearly earned Zong Bieli’s trust… How many distinct people have you identified?”

“Counting the writer of this letter, six in all,” Xue Baiqi replied. “Xiao Mojin should have joined two years ago—his first letter is signed ‘Xiao,’ with a date. After that, there are no dates, probably because the Zong family replied and told him to stop. There are many with the surname Xiao, but only one would correspond with Zong Bieli as an equal—the Xiao Mojin known across the Nine Kingdoms.”

“Gather all related secret letters and let me see them,” Ye Xin ordered.

Xue Baiqi handed over the correspondence. Ye Xin studied them for a long time, finally finishing the pile. Narrowing his eyes, he let out a slow breath.

“The Famous Generals… this organization is called the Famous Generals,” Ye Xin murmured. “The initiator must be the one who wrote the first letter—no, there are two founders.”

“How could that be?” Xue Baiqi was stunned.

“You focused on the handwriting but overlooked the logic. The two founders sent five letters in all to the Zong family. Look—letters four and five are closely linked.”

He handed a letter to Xue Baiqi.

Xue Baiqi read the fifth, then the fourth, and sighed. “Young Master, your attention to detail puts me to shame. I didn’t notice at all.”

“The Zong family was greatly influenced,” Ye Xin said. “Zong Bieli’s attitude toward the ruler of Great Chen changed repeatedly—so much so that this person had to warn him to be cautious. This should be the fourth person—the handwriting is tiny, and the paper… there’s still a faint scent. Such fastidiousness.”

Xue Baiqi sniffed the letter. “I don’t smell anything…”

“My nose is keener than yours,” Ye Xin replied with a smile. “In the end, that person’s warning proved true—the Zong family was forced to flee Great Chen when they aroused the ruler’s suspicion. But… why did they choose to come to the Wei Kingdom?”

“Young Master, from the very first letter, the Zong family was searching for the Flower of Misfortune,” Xue Baiqi said.

“Yes, I noticed,” Ye Xin murmured. “Xiao Bieli has already found two of them.”

“The Flower of Misfortune is an herb with potent energy,” Xue Baiqi explained. “Extremely rare—I’ve only heard the name, never seen one. It’s said that anyone who obtains one suffers disaster, so over time, people named it the Flower of Misfortune. Some warriors avoid it altogether; after all, elemental stones can replenish energy, so why court ill luck?”

“The Flower of Misfortune is the key,” Ye Xin mused. “If we want to uncover their secret, perhaps we should get our hands on one as well.”

“Brother!” Ye Ling, who had been silent, suddenly cried out, her eyes full of worry.

“Don’t fret, Ling’er. There’s definitely something off about all this,” Ye Xin reassured her. “If the Flower of Misfortune were truly that deadly, Xiao Mojin would be long dead. But I know he’s still alive and well.”

“Young Master, I have a… bad feeling,” Xue Baiqi said. “It’s as if there’s a vast whirlpool hidden among the Nine Kingdoms that no one else sees. If it erupts, it might swallow everyone.”

Ye Xin was silent for a long time, his eyes growing ever brighter. “Priorities first. Let’s set this aside for now. Make sure no one goes looking for the Flower of Misfortune. I’m not afraid, but as for the others…”

“Young Master, should I make a trip to Tianyuan City?” Xue Baiqi volunteered.

“We can’t spare you here,” Ye Xin refused flatly. “Without you anchoring this place, I shudder to think what chaos Jiuding City would fall into. That ruthless Thirteenth, with his band of lunatics and brigands, would poke a hole in the sky!”

“Young Master, if they heard you talk about them that way, they’d be heartbroken,” Xue Baiqi couldn’t help but laugh.

“Nonsense, I’ve always spoken of them like this, haven’t I?” Ye Xin said.

“Brother… just how many people do you have?” Ye Ling finally couldn’t help but ask.

“Soon, you’ll meet them all,” Ye Xin replied with a smile.

At that moment, an aged voice called from outside the courtyard, “Young Commander, Qiu Jiecha requests an audience.”

Ye Xin gave Xue Baiqi a look. “Uncle Qiu, come in.”