Strip her bare.

Chapter Title: 044 Strip Her Bare

Fang Rulai moved so quickly and unexpectedly that Lin Wan’er’s head snapped violently from side to side beneath her blows. Stunned, Lin Wan’er stood there, her cheeks blooming with palm prints before she could even react.

Fang Rulai blew regretfully on her palm. “Good work.”

“You! Dare! Hit! Me!” Lin Wan’er jumped nearly a foot high, clutching her dagger and preparing to lunge again.

But in her rage, she forgot that between herself and Fang Rulai stood a half-upended dining table, a floor littered with shattered porcelain, and a poisonous soup that bubbled ominously, ready to make its mark.

First, Lin Wan’er tripped over a slanted table leg; then, as she stumbled, she stepped directly onto a shard of porcelain. The sharp edge easily pierced the sole of her cloth shoe. Before she could even register the pain, the poisonous broth, as if discovering a new territory to invade, surged through the hole and into her shoe.

Fang Rulai kicked the table further away, chair and all. “Three!”

The casual words distracted Lin Wan’er from the pain in her foot. Eyes blazing, she lunged forward again. “I’ll kill you!”

The humiliation of being struck for the first time in her life overwhelmed her pain. She heard the sound of something cracking beneath her foot, but only felt a rush of exhilaration, not pain.

“Two!” Fang Rulai folded her arms, sharply observing the growing vacancy in Lin Wan’er’s eyes.

“You’re still insulting me!” Lin Wan’er was so furious the world spun. She gripped the back of a chair to steady herself. In a standoff, it was one thing for the heart to falter, but one’s outward presence must never yield. “Fang Rulai, do you know whose territory this is? Did you think sparing you before means I’ll keep sparing you? You—”

“One!”

As Fang Rulai finished counting, Lin Wan’er collapsed.

The poison she had prepared herself entered her bloodstream through the wound in her foot, felling her by her own hand.

“You… you’re so… cunning…” Lin Wan’er, half-prone on the floor, guarded her chest with the dagger. But the poison, already racing through her veins, made her hand tremble uncontrollably. With a clang, the dagger fell from her grasp.

She forced herself to reach for it, but a foot clad in mud-yellow monk’s shoes beat her to it, kicking the dagger to a distant corner she could never reach, even if she stretched out flat.

“Come—” She tried to call for help, but before the words left her throat, Fang Rulai stuffed her mouth with a chopstick of tofu.

The tofu was poisoned as well, and not lightly.

Lin Wan’er immediately gagged and vomited, one hand desperately groping for the antidote at her chest. Her trembling fingers finally produced a small white bottle. As she poured out the antidote, a foot lashed out again, striking her hand. The pills arced through the air and landed in the pool of soup, dissolving instantly.

“No—” Lin Wan’er thought she let out a despairing scream, but in truth, the poison had reduced her voice to a faint insect’s buzz.

Fang Rulai crouched beside her, face dignified and severe. “Amitabha. Madam, this way, you’ll never see your name appear with the Sun family on a gravestone.”

She had never truly had the chance to kill herself; naturally, she couldn’t complete the task, nor gain entry into the Sun family genealogy she coveted. In the end, she would not be betrayed after all.

Fang Rulai’s answer to her earlier question—“What now?”—was direct and specific.

But it was, again, a trick at Lin Wan’er’s expense.

Trembling with rage, Lin Wan’er jabbed her finger at Fang Rulai, who deftly deflected it with a chopstick. “Widow, as I’ve said, there’s no need to thank me. Truly.”

Unwilling to give in, Lin Wan’er, easily brushed aside with chopsticks, suddenly summoned all her strength to clutch Fang Rulai’s leg in a death grip. He would not escape! If she could only delay him a little longer, her people, failing to receive her signal, would surely come to investigate. Let’s see how he gets away then!

Fang Rulai clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Widow, I’ll say it again: don’t act this way. I really don’t like manly women!”

Lin Wan’er refused to look up, just clinging to his leg with all her strength. She understood now—she was no match for this person in a battle of words. Fine, she would wait until she regained the upper hand. Then she would argue; it would not be too late.

“Widow, you’re forcing my hand.” With that, Fang Rulai lashed out.

The resignation in her tone was matched by the swiftness of her kick. Lin Wan’er took the blow to her chest and toppled backward.

Fang Rulai clapped her pants. “Turns out, being possessed by a manly spirit does feel invigorating. No wonder everyone likes to act tough.”

Lin Wan’er struggled to rise, but the poison was too strong. At last, her eyes rolled back and she fainted.

“I’ve bought you enough time to clean up those tails, haven’t I, Banxia?” Fang Rulai called into the air.

On the staircase, the carvings on the wall had instantly relayed Banxia’s message: he needed time to deal with loose ends.

Banxia appeared, his face still reflecting the shock of witnessing Fang Rulai’s strange powers. Before leaving Shengjing, his master had said that if something unexpected happened, he could use anything Fang Rulai touched to pass on a message.

He’d always had a sense that something was off, but nothing compared to what he had just witnessed. Since he was six, he’d roamed the world and seen countless oddities, but never had he encountered an ability to hear every sound left on any object—a first in the Kingdom of Yaotian.

As the saying goes, when things break the norm, there’s something monstrous at work.

He’d always been bold—but only when dealing with people. When it came to monsters... Banxia swallowed hard and edged a step away from Fang Rulai.

“What are you gawking at?” Fang Rulai, squatting before Lin Wan’er, shot him a glare. “Get to work!”

“Um… what work?” Forgive him—no matter how smart he was, he was no match for monsters.

Fang Rulai rolled her eyes, suddenly remembering that perverse prodigy. If he were here, he would know precisely what needed to be done without a word.

She allowed herself a second of regret for her temporary, incompetent teammate.

“Strip her of everything—jewelry, clothing, all of it!” Fang Rulai ordered clearly.

Huh? Banxia was dumbfounded. The thought flashed through his mind: Has this monster finally decided to feast after holding back all this time?

Seeing him still frozen, Fang Rulai hurled a silver hairpin at his head.

Banxia instinctively dodged, caught it between his fingers in a snap.

He spun around, eyes sharp. “Who?”

Fang Rulai fumed. “Who? Me! I’m asking why you’re still dawdling! Get on with it—strip her! The sooner we’re done, the sooner we leave. Do you know how hungry I am?”

Hungry? Hungry! Banxia’s fierce expression vanished, replaced by shock. He swallowed unconsciously, thinking, She admitted it—the monster’s hungry…

“Yes, yes, Master. I’ll take care of it immediately.” Banxia strode over to the unconscious Lin Wan’er, swept the silver ornaments from her head in one motion—taking some hair with them—and hoisted her up with one hand. As she spun in the air, her outer garments peeled off like an orange skin.

“Master,” Banxia stepped back reverently, gesturing for Fang Rulai to proceed. If this monster really was about to feast, let her eat whomever she pleased—as long as it wasn’t him.

Fang Rulai had no time to guess his thoughts. She pulled down the nearby curtain, spread it out on the floor. “Put the clothes here. Keep going.”

So she only wanted the clothes? Not to eat anyone? Banxia was inexplicably relieved, but still hesitated. If he kept stripping, she’d be left with nothing on at all. He glanced uncertainly at Fang Rulai, but her face was expressionless and brooked no argument: Either you strip her, or I strip you.

Without hesitation, Banxia delivered a kick that sent Lin Wan’er flying to the opposite wall, hanging there like a portrait—completely naked. Her undergarments had been stripped away in a flash.

“Very good. Collect the clothes, let’s go.”

She had once sensed information from the door curtain and the wall portrait, but those seldom-touched objects offered little feedback. If she wanted to swallow up the Zhao family’s network, she first had to solve the problems of the three Zhao sons—dead or ill as they were.

She had yet to find a way to approach the first and second daughters-in-law, but the third, not yet married, had delivered herself right to the door. How could she not seize the chance to strip away anything that might yield useful information? Better that than letting it all go to waste.

Lin Wan’er’s mourning clothes were new; when she came close, Fang Rulai had sensed that the information on the front panel went back no more than half a month. But her inner garments—the ones worn for years, close to the skin—how could they not be etched with secrets?

That night, when Zhu Xishi brought Fang Rulai a dish of braised pork, she found Fang Rulai, face flushed, pressing a red silk dudou to her heart.

“So—you finally want to be a woman again?” Zhu Xishi was almost moved to tears, as if watching her own daughter come of age.

A woman, even if for some reason she never grew hair, was a woman nonetheless. To live one’s life as a monk—how could that be right? Year after year, she’d urged Fang Rulai to return to her womanhood, but never had she agreed.

Could it be she’d finally come to her senses today? Zhu Xishi decided to attribute Fang Rulai’s flushed face to a woman’s natural love of beauty.

“Where did you get this red dudou? Bought it yourself? I must say, though you haven’t acted like a woman for years, your taste remains sharp—this one’s a fine choice!” Zhu Xishi set down the pork and snatched the dudou from Fang Rulai’s hands. “What’s the use of just looking? Come, let me help you try it on. You’re eighteen now, you’ve developed—put it on, you’ll look so pretty.”

Fang Rulai shook her head furiously. “No!”

Zhu Xishi was even more delighted. “Oh, feeling shy like a real girl now? Save it for your man—no need for modesty with your own sister. Come, take off your outer robe.”

As she spoke, Zhu Xishi reached for Fang Rulai’s collar.

Fang Rulai grabbed her hand and held it tightly at her throat, refusing once again. “Truly, I won’t try it on!”

Zhu Xishi eyed her flushed face, amused. “Your expression says otherwise.”

“It’s not—”

“Don’t worry, I won’t laugh at your figure.”

“No—”

“Relax, Banxia’s guarding outside. No one will peek—”

After several interruptions, Fang Rulai suddenly opened her mouth and vomited sour water all over Zhu Xishi.

At last, the world fell silent.

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