086 Majestic and Mighty—Her Kind of Scene!

Chapter Title: 086 Majestic and Mighty—Just Her Type!

“Dashan!” With a single look from the white-haired old lady, Zhou Dashan rose and strode toward Fang Rulai and Zhu Xishi.

Though the guests along the way were all brimming with anticipation, upon seeing Village Chief Shi, each and every one of them restrained themselves. First, this was Zhou family territory; even if they managed to snatch the prize, it didn’t guarantee a safe return to the mainland. Second, their strength paled compared to the Zhou family’s—should they secure the prize and return safely, who could guarantee that the more powerful Zhou family would willingly comply? Third, falling into Zhou hands was far better than ending up with the authorities. They were all on the same rope; an alliance with the Zhou family promised greater profits, while an alliance with the officials would likely mean hard labor with little reward.

Thus, instead of scrambling as they did during the marriage proposal, the guests made subtle preparations to assist if the dagger could not be obtained smoothly.

Unexpectedly, before their measures could even be put into practice, Fang Rulai herself tossed the dagger onto the center of the dining table. The center held a roasted suckling pig, and the dagger landed neatly, embedded in the glistening pig’s head. The jeweled hilt, set against the glossy pork, gleamed all the more brilliantly.

Zhou Dashan halted mid-stride, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes—was it really that simple?

Fang Rulai gestured gracefully in midair, inviting him to take it if he wished. She believed her gaze was sincere, yet to outsiders it seemed more like a calculated lure.

“What scheme are you plotting?” The white-haired old lady scoffed at the idea that anyone would simply hand over such a vital item without a fight. She guessed, “Dashan, be careful—it’s poisoned!”

This little monk must have smeared something poisonous on the dagger, ready to strike the moment Zhou Dashan seized it.

Fang Rulai rested her chin on her hand. “Mm, it is poisoned.”

“Hmph!” A flash of triumph crossed the old lady’s face—her suspicions confirmed. She ordered, “Bring a silk cloth for the young master.”

She meant for Zhou Dashan to wrap the dagger before picking it up.

Fang Rulai smiled indifferently. “No need to worry. It’s merely coated with some Forget-Dust—just enough to cloud the mind. You won’t even need the silk cloth, since madam carries the antidote with her, doesn’t she?”

The old lady’s expression changed dramatically. How did Fang Rulai know she carried the antidote for Forget-Dust?

“Forget-Dust: one drop erases yesterday, two erase old memories, three or more erase all the past. What a poetic name!” Fang Rulai turned to Zhu Xishi, her tone light as if chatting in her own backyard.

Zhu Xishi snorted. “Poetic name, vicious intent. Like bleeding a pig before slaughter: a cut to the throat, and as long as the blood hasn’t all drained, the pig won’t die; but once it’s gone, it can’t live, no matter how it tries.”

Zhou Dashan placed the silk cloth on the dagger, about to take it, but paused at her words. Forget-Dust was the poison his mother used to handle troublesome matters in the backyard—something he himself had stumbled upon when traveling abroad. In Pingcheng, only the Zhou family used it. If Fang Rulai had mentioned it just once, he could dismiss it as coincidence; but the more she spoke, the more it sounded like she was hinting at the Forget-Dust on the pig.

But how did she know they’d applied Forget-Dust in advance?

Zhou Dashan withdrew his hand and stood still. “Someone come.”

A steward promptly stepped forward.

“Check everyone on board today, top and bottom decks. Anyone acting suspicious, bring them here.” If the other side truly knew something, it meant an internal leak.

The steward, clever as well, caught on instantly and hurried off after exchanging a glance with Zhou Dashan.

Fang Rulai smiled approvingly. “Master Zhou is shrewd. If only the Zhao family had had a son as clever as you, they wouldn’t have ended up like this.”

Zhou Dashan looked over warily. “It’s not that the Zhao brothers aren’t clever, but they were outsmarted—no, ensnared by even more cunning officials. As the saying goes, ‘Don’t fear thieves stealing, fear them coveting.’ That coveting destroyed the Zhao family. Ultimately, it’s the officials’ fault.”

Salt production, transport, and trade—none of the officials participated, yet they demanded most of the profits through their permits. They’d been squeezed for years, forced to endure. Now the authorities aimed to monopolize the salt route; the Zhou family had to strike first, for their future livelihood, refusing to let the salt route fall into their hands.

Suddenly, Zhou Dashan snatched the dagger, wrapped in silk, from the pig’s head. Its tip, eroded by some substance, gleamed with a blue sheen.

Fang Rulai spoke again. “Wrong—it’s all because of this token of the salt route. As long as it exists, the officials’ eyes will never leave.”

“But now it’s in my hands—it belongs to the Zhou family, and I will protect it...”

“Can you guarantee the Zhou family won’t end up like the Zhao family, ruined and destroyed?” Fang Rulai cut him off, her gaze solemn. “Do you know why the Zhao family died of illness? Why Magistrate Sun Chi’s family perished? Why the Daoists who appeared at the county office this morning died?”

Zhou Dashan fell silent—not for lack of words, but because the circumstances forbade him to speak.

The commotion at the county office this morning was known to all in Pingcheng. Yet everyone only dared whisper behind closed doors; outside, not a word was uttered. Why? Was it just for the hush money—ten taels of gold per household? Ordinary folk might be swayed by that, but the Zhou family was above such sums. Their silence was not for gold, but because they knew Pingcheng, thanks to the salt route, had fallen into the power struggle between the Crown Prince and the Second Prince. Speaking out now would mean courting disaster from both sides.

So even knowing the dagger was in the hands of a monk without martial arts, they dared not seize it outright. First, for safety; second, to avoid drawing the capital’s attention. They preferred to feign ignorance, using the marriage proposal as a pretext to reclaim the salt route.

“You know—and you know it thoroughly.” From the moment he led his group into the county office to propose marriage, she saw they were acting. The so-called prophecy of fate—perhaps fools would believe, but a man who’d sailed the rivers and seas since childhood? Impossible! When Guan Shiyin secretly sent Banxia to inform her, he included not only news of the marriage proposal, but Zhou Dashan’s background as well.

Swimming at three, steering a boat at five, sailing with his father at eight, surviving a hundred near-death experiences at sea between twelve and twenty-two. Such a man, who’d made life and death his daily routine, would believe some so-called master’s prophecy? He’d fool only the naive monk!

If he appeared to believe, it was only for others to see. Why? To relieve the Zhou shipping line of outside pressures. As long as he supposedly wouldn’t marry unless the prophecy said so, those watching would leave Zhou alone. In truth, whether he married made no difference—he would always have heirs.

Fang Rulai traced a character—“Treasure”—in the air with her finger.

As she finished, murderous intent surged around Zhou Dashan. She knew of Bao’er’s existence—she could not be allowed to live.

He snatched a plate, channeled his inner force, and split it into three. The left and right fragments fell away; the sharp central piece remained. Zhou Dashan hurled it, its spike aimed straight at Fang Rulai’s throat.

Had she not known of Bao’er, she might have lived in foolishness from the Forget-Dust, surviving to old age. But now, with her knowledge, she could not be allowed a moment more.

Don’t blame him!

Opposite, Fang Rulai curled her lips, as if reading Zhou Dashan’s mind. “I don’t blame you, because…”

Suddenly, a curtain of water shot up from outside the boat.

“…you simply…”

The water, as if conscious, rose above the rail, bent sharply, and stood before Fang Rulai like a human figure.

“Cannot! Kill! Me!”

The plate spike struck the water curtain; a ring of water whirled around its tip, then contracted and expanded, sending the broken plate flying back even faster.

Zhou Dashan dodged just in time; the fragment embedded itself in a pillar, its rounded edge inside, sharp tip outside.

Such power!

“Men, into the water—catch them!” Zhou Dashan ordered. Eight bare-chested men leapt overboard.

Fang Rulai didn’t even glance over. She poured a cup of hot tea for Zhu Xishi. “Intermission—let’s enjoy some tea.”

Zhu Xishi twirled her teacup. “Aren’t you afraid they’ll poison your tea?”

“No. Aside from the roasted pig, only the Buddha’s Hand rolls, vegetarian Four Delights, sweet-and-sour lotus root, and stuffed scallops contain Forget-Dust. As long as you avoid these five dishes, you’ll be perfectly safe.”

At her words, the guests’ faces changed in unison, including Zhou Dashan.

The guests’ faces fell, for they had never been told which dishes were poisoned and which weren’t. Judging by Zhou Dashan’s reaction, the monk was telling the truth.

Zhou Dashan’s face changed because Fang Rulai was absolutely correct. Before the banquet, uncertain whether she carried the dagger, they’d only applied Forget-Dust to select dishes, planning to serve them depending on how negotiations went.

Who would have guessed the poison would go unused—she handed over the dagger outright, and even named the exact dishes they’d poisoned.

But only he and his mother knew which dishes contained Forget-Dust—he decided, she applied. Neither would ever reveal it. So how did Fang Rulai know? Or had her backers already infiltrated unnoticed?

“Someone! Check again—” Zhou Dashan barked, intent on another sweep of their attendants.

But before he could finish, “pa pa pa”—a series of sharp sounds. The eight men he’d sent overboard were tossed back onto the deck.

A glance showed no obvious wounds, but all lay with eyes shut, unconscious or dead.

Such swift and overwhelming force!

Terrifying!

Zhou Dashan’s form blurred as he gathered his energy and leaped toward Fang Rulai, his three-fingered grip ready.

Catch the leader first!

If he seized Fang Rulai, the underwater adversary would lose their audacity!

Murderous intent swept in; Zhu Xishi rose to shield Fang Rulai, but was pushed back. “Don’t trouble yourself. If I get caught now, wouldn’t that undermine our Second Prince’s—”

With a splash, someone below burst from the water like a divine dragon, sending a surge that drenched the guests watching from the rail.

“Face!”

In midair, the figure snapped their legs into a bow stance and slapped their arm like a mahjong player claiming victory.

“There! You!”

As Fang Rulai finished speaking, Zhou Dashan’s grip reached her, while the airborne figure’s palm struck Zhou Dashan’s back.

A “bang!” echoed, and when the crowd refocused, they saw a human-shaped hole in the long table. Half the dishes had been swept away, their sauce cascading along the curved edge and soaking Zhou Dashan, now lying beneath the table on the deck.

That palm had smashed Zhou Dashan straight from table to deck.

Such overbearing force!

Everyone inhaled sharply, stunned by Zhou Dashan’s swift defeat.

Fang Rulai did too, but for another reason—the man descending from the air, striding toward her: Guan Shiyin!

Clad in a tight black water-resistant suit, his muscular silhouette was vividly accentuated. His hair, untied and shoulder-length, spilled down his back, still wet. Finding it clingy, he shook his head as he walked.

His hair whipped up, droplets scattering, rising and falling like morning mist in a forest, dampening lashes and blurring vision.

In a haze, it seemed he smiled—a corner of his lips lifted, like a bird fluttering its wings, sending a burst of morning radiance.

Fang Rulai’s rationality stretched taut, a silent warning—“This brooding man needs his medicine again”—but she couldn’t tear her gaze away.

After dispatching Xiao Shi in two moves, Guan Shiyin displayed his majestic might again, defeating Zhou Dashan with a single blow.

If his first display of strength had moved her, this second was like molten lava, igniting her heart.

Fang Rulai heard the snap of her “rationality”—majestic might had always been her type!

Thanks to dear &! Manman! ^_$ for the diamond encouragement. Happy Valentine’s Day and Lantern Festival!

Today is the perfect day to enjoy yuanxiao with your beloved—don’t let it go to waste~

Also: Bought “Truly Love” fruit-filled rice balls from Sanquan Ling. Sixteen pieces for twenty yuan—quite pricey! Strongly recommend your sweethearts foot the bill!

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