"That guy? A high master?" scoffed Qin Ren with disdain. "He's just a cart driver. He works for me now."
Qiao Wei chuckled, lowering his head respectfully. "Third Young Master speaks the truth. I'm Qiao Wei, his humble servant. Recognizing that needle technique is no great feat—just something I picked up from traveling far and wide. I've seen it used by a heroine of the Snowy Mountain Sect before."
Autumn Ruomei nodded slightly. "Since Senior does not wish to reveal his true identity, I won't press. I only hope you'll look after my little brother. He's reckless by nature—one day he'll land himself in serious trouble."
Qiao Wei's expression turned solemn. "Miss, you may rest easy. I once swore: a servant for a day, a servant for life. The Third Young Master showed me great kindness—how can I repay that with anything but sincerity?"
Qin Ren stuck out his tongue. "Gross. Who asked for your sincerity? What's next, you offering your body too?"
Qiao Wei straightened up, face deadly serious. "Offering my body is the least I can do. From this day forward, this humble seven-foot frame is yours, Young Master. You may ravish it at will!"
Qin Ren's face went pale, nearly vomiting. Qiao Wei, meanwhile, beamed with pride. "Ha! You think you can outgross me? I'm one of the Four Demon Lords, remember? When it comes to disgusting behavior, you're just a rookie! Wahaha!"
Autumn Ruomei rapped Qin Ren gently on the head, feigning irritation. "You're too much. You're not a child anymore—how can you still be this immature?"
Qin Ren thought to himself, Dear Mei, I don't want to act childish either! But how else can I stir your natural maternal instinct if not by pretending?
Out loud, he said, "I won't do it again, I swear! Sister Mei, please don't hit me anymore. If you damage this precious brain of mine, you'll be the one at a loss!"
Autumn Ruomei couldn't help but laugh, her voice like spring water. "Oh, stop your nonsense. With your thick skull, a few more knocks won't hurt. Now, how's the wound?"
Qin Ren grinned cheekily. "If you'd give me a kiss, Sister Mei, I wouldn't feel a thing!"
Qiao Wei gagged dramatically. "Please, Young Master, I beg you—don't make me lose my lunch!"
Autumn Ruomei blushed faintly, brushed Qin Ren's nose with a finger, and said, "Shameless brat. Go get some rest."
Qin Ren clung to her hand, pouting. "Sister Mei, have you found an inn? If not, stay with me! And even if you have… cancel it and come stay with me anyway?"
Her smile vanished. "Say one more word of nonsense, and I'm leaving!"
Qin Ren quickly held her tighter. "Please, Sister, no! I won't say another word, I promise. Just look at me—I'm wounded, miserable, and my only company is this coarse brute Qiao Wei. Surely you can't leave me like this?"
Autumn Ruomei hesitated, sighed softly. "Ren… you're relentless. I came only to see you, to make sure you were alive and well. I hadn't planned to even speak with you. But you… You treat your life so carelessly. You made me worry."
She turned to him fully. "Fine. I'll stay and take care of you until you're better. After that, I'll be on my way."
Qin Ren's face lit up with joy. She agreed! But deep inside, he sighed. Damn it. Why do some women cling to me—well, 'cling' with a 'kill' at the end—while others flee like I'm a plague? Mei clearly cares for me, yet she always keeps her distance… Could it be… she feels unworthy?
Not far away, Qiao Wei was having his own thoughts. Strange… it sounds like this woman doesn't want to stay with the Young Master. But it's obvious he has feelings for her—and she for him. Hmph, maybe she knows our Young Master has a habit of breaking hearts. Even if she loves him, she refuses to follow. Ha! So there are still women in this world our Young Master can't win over!
Scene Transition: Shadows on the Road
It was early summer.
The gentleness of spring had retreated. Now came summer—fiery, brash, and dry. Even in the northern reaches of the Qin Empire, the heat had arrived with a vengeance.
Along a country road, some thirty li from Dingzhou City, a roadside teahouse stood. Inside, over twenty armed men lounged in the sparse shade, sipping cool tea, seeking respite from the midday sun.
Behind the teahouse, the owner lay dead, his throat slit cleanly—blood still pooling around his limp body.
From the teahouse's only private room came sounds: a woman's muffled cries, followed by low screams, then a man's beast-like roars.
Four muscular thugs stood outside the door, their shirts open to reveal oiled, iron-hard chests, their expressions cold.
A low, guttural growl echoed within—then a snap—and the woman's voice went silent.
Moments later, the door creaked open.
Out stepped a gaunt man in a grey robe. His face was pale, eyes sharp as a hawk's. Inside the room, on a rough cot, lay the naked body of a young woman—limbs splayed, eyes wide in death, body covered in bruises and blood.
The gaunt man sniffed the air. "Everyone rested?"
One of the guards bowed. "Yes, sir. We await your orders."
"Move out," he commanded.
The entire group stood, swift and disciplined. These were no mere thugs—they were trained killers.
As they stepped onto the road, the gaunt man froze. His eyes narrowed.
From afar, a luxurious carriage approached at a calm, steady pace. Beside it, three elderly men in servant garb rode donkeys, appearing drowsy and utterly at ease.
At the front of the carriage sat a man in sky-blue robes, his face mostly hidden beneath a straw hat.
The wind shifted.
The gaunt man inhaled deeply, then muttered, "There are women in that carriage… more than one."
"Remarkable, sir!" a lackey said, buttering him up. "To identify hidden women from so far away—your art of 'scent-tracing' is truly unmatched!"
The man smirked. "When it comes to identifying women by scent, I'm second to none."
Another asked cautiously, "Then… what shall we do with the carriage?"
"It's obvious," said the man righteously. "Thieves and murderers are hiding inside. We'll confiscate their ill-gotten gains—purely for the sake of justice, of course."
His men immediately echoed: "Sir is wise and just! Truly, you carry the burden of justice on your shoulders!"
Satisfied, the man led his twenty-four followers into the road, blocking the way entirely as the carriage approached.
The driver gently pulled the reins, and the carriage stopped. The three old men beside it continued dozing on their donkeys, unfazed.
The gaunt man frowned. This isn't right. Why aren't they saying anything?
He cleared his throat and shouted: "You there! Don't think a fancy carriage can hide your crimes! You're under arrest! You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You may request a lawyer—if you don't have one, the court will assign—"
One of the old men stirred, inhaled deeply, then spoke coldly: "Young Master… there's blood. And the scent of… a woman's body. But no life."
The driver, voice icy, replied, "No life? Then she's already dead."
The gaunt man's heart skipped a beat. What kind of people can distinguish a corpse's scent?
He tried to speak, to reclaim control—only for the driver to speak again:
"I've heard of you, Ji Wuhua—one of the Four Constables of the Jianghu Department. 'Cold-Blooded Chase.' A man infamous for his perversions and cruelty. I never had proof before… but it seems you've walked right into my trap."
The driver lifted his head, casting aside the straw hat.
A cold, impossibly handsome face stared out at Ji Wuhua.
"My name," the man said, "is Qin Feng."