Chapter 11 – A Moonless, Windy Night for Murder

Familiar with the way, he silently bypassed the nearby houses and tiptoed to the shabby thatched hut.

He sneered at the waist-high fence gate before him, lifting his foot to stride inside.

The night was both quiet and noisy—the chirping insects and croaking frogs perfectly masking certain sounds. After a quick glance around, he decisively approached the door.

Thinking of the tender body and beautiful face he dreamed of every night, the lust in his eyes was no longer hidden beneath the black cloth covering his face. Excitement consumed him.

Carefully nearing the door, he drew the dagger from his chest, gently nudging the latch aside. In his mind, he was already imagining how he would indulge himself to the point of ecstasy on the beauty’s body.

He, Ma Fu, really was blessed by fortune. Who would have thought the magistrate’s carriage would break down in the countryside? Originally, he had resigned himself to despair, but the moment he heard the magistrate order camp to be set nearby, his hopes burned anew.

This place was only two or three li from Willow Village. With his skill, he could be there in less than half an hour.

Once such thoughts arise, they are hard to suppress. The more he imagined, the bolder he grew.

In any case, he was leaving soon—what crime did he still need to fear?

So, after pretending he needed to relieve himself, he dashed here with one single purpose: to seize the woman who haunted his every thought. For the first time, he understood the thrill of those flower thieves. His eyes gleamed with perverse delight.

Bit by bit, the latch shifted loose. He tore off the cloth from his face, gasping heavily in excitement.

Finally—it opened!

He tucked away the dagger, gently pushing the door open and preparing to slip inside—when something suddenly struck at him. Reflexively shielding his face, he stumbled backward, then crashed heavily to the ground without warning.

The figure that emerged from within was no delicate beauty, but Fang Yu herself, a mask over her face.

She bent down, patted his cheek, and swiftly bound his hands and feet. She then took the bundle from his side and rummaged through it.

Beneath two simple sets of clothing, she found a considerable amount of silver and jewelry. What drew her attention most, however, was an old-looking token hidden within. Searching further through his clothes, she uncovered what seemed to be a uniform. At once, her mind formed a suspicion about his identity. She carried the bundle back inside.

Now she pondered what to do with him.

If her guess was right, and this man really was that Ma fellow, then it wasn’t difficult to know who had leaked her whereabouts.

But what she couldn’t understand was this: why had he formally come to propose marriage just recently, only to sneak into her house tonight with foul intent?

Forget it—she could just ask him later.

Thankfully, she had convinced the doctor at Bao’an Hall to make her a “life-saving medicine” some time ago. She just didn’t know how long its effects would last.

She quickly roused her father and explained the situation briefly, asking him to help carry the man into the mountains.

To her surprise, her weeping, timid father changed instantly when he learned a man had tried to sneak in to violate his daughter. He immediately agreed with her plan.

Father and daughter dragged the unconscious man into the mountains. As soon as they reached the forest’s edge, Old Fang urged his daughter to return home. His thoughts were simple: fortunately, the intruder had been caught in time. As long as no one saw a strange man entering their home at night, his daughter’s reputation would remain intact.

Now that the man had been dumped in the dark wilderness, why linger? Let him fend for himself.

But then he watched, wide-eyed, as his daughter slapped the man’s face sharply—“pa pa pa”—until he woke up.

“You… who are you?” the man mumbled groggily.

“You came to my home, and you don’t know who I am?” she replied coldly.

“Fang family’s little miss? Why am I here? Where is this? Untie me! Do you know who I am?”

“Oh? I truly don’t know. Then tell me, who are you?”

“I am Ma Fu, a constable of the county yamen! Release me at once!” he bellowed arrogantly, oblivious to her mocking tone.

“A constable? Why would a constable sneak into my home? I don’t recall us being acquainted…” she said with feigned puzzlement.

“How could we not be? Wasn’t it your village’s Chen Dashan who promised you to me in marriage, asking me to help his son secure a post in the yamen? He was the one who gave me your address!”

“So it was you? I remember we refused that marriage proposal.”

“…I only wanted to come and see you…”

“Did you like what you saw? And then what?”

Perhaps it was Fang Yu’s consistently calm tone, combined with the darkness of the forest obscuring her expression. At night, one’s senses are magnified, easily leading to misunderstandings.

At this moment, Ma Fu somehow mistook her voice for tenderness. Though bound, she had not harmed him further. Not a single impropriety had occurred. In his mind, she seemed a soft-hearted girl.

For reasons he couldn’t explain, he suddenly thought of taking her with him. After all, she was beautiful, and he was single. If chaos truly spread across the land in the future, how could a young woman and her useless old father survive alone?

Better she follow him. With the magistrate to rely on, there would always be somewhere safe.

That was what he thought—and what he actually said aloud.

His ambition might have been great, but his brain was not.

How did he come to the ridiculous conclusion that she would go with him?

Without another word, Fang Yu prodded him sharply with her toe. “Get up. Walk uphill.”

Naturally, he refused. Fang Yu drew her blade and pressed it against his throat.

The man who had been coaxing her gently just a moment ago instantly changed his expression.

He thought she wouldn’t dare. The next second, a fresh wound opened on his neck. Only then did he obey, stumbling forward.

Behind them, Old Fang—so often timid and weeping—remained uncharacteristically silent, following closely. Fang Yu glanced back at him in surprise.

When they reached the spot she had judged suitable, she forced Ma Fu to turn up a narrow path. Realizing his situation was worsening, his arrogance shifted into pleading once more. Fang Yu said nothing, letting him perform his full act alone.

“Father, stay here and watch,” Fang Yu ordered, halting Old Fang’s steps.

The atmosphere grew tense. The mountain wind chilled the skin. Ma Fu shivered violently, begging, “Miss Fang, please let me go. I was bewitched by lust—it was my fault tonight. I swear once I leave, I’ll never return to Qingzhou. We’ll never see each other again. Wouldn’t that be enough?”

Behind her, Old Fang hesitated, tugging at his daughter’s sleeve. She shook him off.

“Move!”

The gleaming blade pressed once more at his throat, forcing him onward.

The mountain road was steep, the path treacherous. Again and again he stumbled, dragged upright only to stagger forward with greater difficulty.

When he collapsed yet again, Fang Yu reached to haul him up—but a sudden strike swept toward her. She twisted aside just as the tip of a blade slashed for her face.

Dodging low and back, she was forced into combat. Her one advantage was familiarity with the terrain—she could predict every tree and stone even with her eyes closed.

But as time passed, Ma Fu’s movements grew sharper. Freed from his bindings, he pressed her harder and harder. Without spiritual strength, her body was no match; her stamina lagged, and she began to falter.

Their figures crossed in the dark. Pain seared her arm—she had been wounded.

Seizing the advantage, Ma Fu’s demeanor changed again. His voice dripped with lewdness:

“Little lady, you shouldn’t be playing with blades. In a moment, I’ll let you taste some real excitement. You’ll be calling me ‘big brother’ in no time~”

Fang Yu’s eyes darkened. She hurled herself into the fight again, every nerve taut. Suddenly, she noticed his movements slowing. Without hesitation, she darted in close and drove her dagger deep into his body.

Her action was swift, instinctive—just the blink of an eye. To Ma Fu, it was as if she had vanished and reappeared before him. A searing pain split his abdomen.

He staggered, ready to fight again, when pain blossomed in his throat. Something hot gushed forth, his limbs went numb. In disbelief, he touched his neck—then fell with a heavy thud to the ground.

“Daughter, is… is he dead? Quick, finish him! What if he’s not dead yet?”

Old Fang had crept closer at some point, trembling violently as he tugged her back.

Fang Yu patted his shaking hands, then dragged the body away.

Moments later, Old Fang heard the crash of a heavy weight falling from high above, snapping branches as it plummeted—then silence returned to the mountain.