Aoyama

Chapter 397 Liu Ren
Chen Mansion.

On the narrow bluestone path, Xiaoman carried two food boxes and hummed a little tune as she returned to Ginkgo Garden.

She pushed open the door and entered, complaining loudly, "Come and answer it! You have no sense at all!"

The young monk, dressed in a moon-white robe, looked like a wronged young wife. He quickly dropped the bamboo broom in his hand, took the food box from Xiao Man, and laid out the bowls and plates one by one on the stone table.

A dish of red plum fermented bean curd, twelve steamed buns, and two bowls of white porridge.

Xiaoman sat casually at the table: "Let me remind you, when the young master comes back, you're not allowed to tell him that I bullied you again."

The young monk hurriedly replied, "Don't worry, Miss Xiaoman, this humble monk won't do it."

Xiaoman picked up her chopsticks with satisfaction: "Okay, sit down and eat. Today's steamed buns are filled with pickled celery. I pickled them myself a few days ago using the first batch of celery in early spring. They're sour and crunchy, and very delicious."

In spring, what the officials and nobles of Ningchao craved most was not meat, but green vegetables, which were rare treats during the winter.

Xiaoman took a big bite of the bun, and the little monk watched in horror as she opened her "blood-red mouth" and bit off more than half of the bun.

Just as the little monk was about to eat the steamed bun, Xiaoman suddenly raised her hand and pressed down on his wrist.

The young monk asked, puzzled, "What's wrong with Miss Xiaoman?"

He looked up and saw Xiaoman's face changing color repeatedly, as if she had eaten something bad. He could hear thunderous rumbling in Xiaoman's stomach, the sound like a drum.

next moment.

Xiaoman stood up, let go of the little monk's wrist, bent over and vomited a mouthful of black water.

"vomit!"

"vomit!"

"vomit!"

Xiaoman spat out three mouthfuls of black water, which soaked through the blue bricks, startling the little monk who retreated repeatedly: "What's wrong with you?"

Xiaoman suddenly looked up and stared straight at the little monk: "Don't eat the steamed buns, they're poisoned!"

The young monk stared in disbelief: "Poisonous? You, you, you... are you alright? Oh, you're alright."

Xiaoman took out a silk handkerchief from her bosom and wiped the black liquid from the corner of her mouth: "I cultivate myself by eating. I can tell whether something is poisonous or not just by tasting it. Moreover, I am the least afraid of food poisoning in the world. As long as it is poisonous, I can spit it out cleanly with a few mouthfuls of black liquid."

The young monk gave a thumbs-up with heartfelt admiration: "Amitabha, Miss Xiaoman is amazing. This humble monk can't spit out black water, this humble monk can only spit out bitter water."

This time, Xiaoman didn't have time to argue with him.

She pulled the little monk by the wrist and led him into the house, then closed the door behind her.

Inside the main room, the young monk watched as Xiaoman hurriedly packed her things, stuffing all her gold, silver, valuables, and Buddhist coins into a bundle: "What is Miss Xiaoman doing?"

Xiao Man tightened the bundle without turning her head: "Young Master must have been tricked during the Spring Hunt. Someone wants to kill us both. Let's go quickly. Right now, they don't want to be too blatant. They're using slow-acting poison to make us look like we died of illness. But they won't wait long. Once they're desperate, we won't be able to leave... No, no, carrying this bundle is too obvious."

She looked at the blue bundle on the bed with heartache, but in the end she reluctantly put it down, taking only a few strings of Buddhist coins with her and covering them with her sleeve.

Xiaoman came to the little monk and earnestly instructed him: "Go and get the carrying pole and pretend to fetch water. I will follow you. Remember, whatever you do, whatever you do, don't show anything unusual. Just act like usual."

The young monk looked into Xiaoman's eyes, his expression filled with surprise and doubt: "Is it really that serious?"

Xiaoman rolled her eyes: "Look at you, so spineless. Following my young master, you'll inevitably face many trials and tribulations... With your connections in officialdom, besides being able to read people's minds, what else can you do? Can you even kill someone?"

The young monk was taken aback: "After reciting the Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva Sutra 100,000 times and making a great vow, one can gain supernatural abilities. Oh, and one can also heal the sick and save lives. My master saved many people in Yunzhou..."

Xiaoman retorted angrily, "I'm asking you, not your master! What can you do now?"

The young monk hesitated for a moment: "I will help you find peace..."

Xiaoman was furious and pinched his waist: "What use are you! Remember, when I say run, you run with me. Don't hesitate, or I'll beat you up!"

The little monk grinned and picked up a carrying pole from the side room, swaying as she walked out. Xiao Man followed beside her, complaining, "I work so hard to cook three meals a day for you, and you keep complaining about this little bit of work, and you even went to the young master to complain!"

As she spoke, Xiaoman punched the monk in the back, making him wince in pain. He then complained in a low voice, "Miss Xiaoman, you don't have to act so convincingly!"

Xiaoman glared at him: "Shut up!"

Just then, a servant boy approached them and greeted them with a smile: "Miss Xiaoman."

Xiaoman glanced at him and responded with a nasal sound.

As they brushed past each other, she clenched her fist inside her sleeve, only slowly releasing it after they had passed each other. The young monk couldn't help but want to turn back, but she gritted her teeth and whispered to him, "Don't turn back, don't turn back."

Behind the two, the servant stopped on the bluestone path, turned around, and stared intently at their backs as they walked toward the well.

……

……

Arriving at the well, the young monk vigorously rowed the wooden oar, which, with the hemp rope coiled around it, slowly lifted the wooden bucket to the wellhead.

Xiaoman frantically searched for a solution. Her head remained still, but her eyes darted around: Should she cross Xiaoyingzhou to find the Chen family's eldest son at Wendan Hall? It seemed the Chen family's eldest son treated the young master well; they seemed reliable…

No, she couldn't trust anyone in the Chen household.

Should we go find Sister Xia then? No, Sister Xia went on a spring hunt with the young master.

Go to the Ministry of Personnel and find Lord Zhang Zhuo!
In this vast capital city, the only person I can truly trust is Lord Zhang!
Xiaoman had a plan in mind. Just then, the little monk started shaking a bucket of water, and she suddenly shouted, "Run! Run towards the courtyard wall!"

Xiaoman lifted the heavy bucket of water and threw it behind her, then grabbed the little monk and ran towards the courtyard wall without looking back.

The bucket shattered precisely on the servant who had followed, sending him tumbling backward: "Chase!" Several more people emerged from the corner, closely following Xiaoman.

The well was only a dozen feet away from the courtyard wall, within a short distance.

Xiaoman lifted the little monk by the bottom and helped him up the gray tile wall. The little monk scrambled to climb. Just as she was about to leap onto the gray tile, her head suddenly turned to the side, and an axe grazed her ear before striking the white wall!
Xiaoman remained calm and delivered a groin kick from behind, causing the servant behind her to immediately faint.

Five more people gathered around, one of them holding a Mountain Ghost Coin in his hand. The patterns on the Mountain Ghost Coin were as red as blood and were twisting and turning.

A woman emerged from the mountain spirit's flower-shaped flower, her hair disheveled, dressed in white with a fair face and red lips, and she had only a body but no legs.

The woman pressed her palm down on Xiaoman, landing squarely on Xiaoman's chest, as fast as a ghost.

Xiaoman spat out a mouthful of blood and flew back to the wall. She looked up and saw the woman fly back to the servant after pressing down with her palm, and gently sat on the servant's shoulder.

Remnants of the Beggars' Sect!

As a servant came at her with an axe, she suddenly squatted down, took out a small silver pair of scissors from her sleeve, and began to cut the ground.

But then she suddenly cut the shadow in half, and the shadow struggled and swelled up.

The shadow grew into the body of a sheep with a human face, and a gaping maw stretched from the left armpit to the right armpit. The black hair curled on its four hooves resembled four auspicious black clouds.

gluttonous!

The giant taotie, as tall as a person, opened its blood-red maw and swallowed the servant boy in front of it whole. Xiaoman no longer wanted to fight. Taking advantage of the servants' frightened retreat, she used the taotie as a springboard to leap over the courtyard wall like a butterfly, and pulled the little monk along as they ran wildly towards the right street of the mansion.

"Run! There's a powerful expert here! The Taotie won't last much longer!"

The two hadn't run far when Xiaoman's heart sank; the Taotie had already been scattered. She heard someone climb over the courtyard wall behind her and land heavily on the ground.

Xiaoman pulled the little monk out of the alley, muttering, "What to do, what to do, what to do? We can't get to the Ministry of Personnel..."

Before the words were finished, a lazy voice said, "Get in the car."

Xiaoman suddenly looked up and saw a lazy Taoist priest in a blue robe leaning against the carriage, taking out a brush made of rat whiskers and writing something on two elm leaves in his palm.

The Taoist priest, without even looking up, said, "What are you standing there for?"

Xiaoman pulled the little monk into the carriage. As they climbed onto the carriage, the Taoist priest placed two elm leaves with writing on them on their foreheads: "Sit still and don't talk."

Xiaoman and the young monk sat in the carriage, filled with doubt and apprehension, as the Taoist priest urged the carriage on, taking them along Fuyou Street towards Chang'an Avenue.

The servant boy from the Chen family who chased after her hid the axe behind his back and looked around the right side of the street but couldn't see Xiaoman.

The servant holding the Mountain Spirit Coin saw the carriage and immediately rushed forward, lifting the curtain from the side to peek inside.

Xiaoman and the little monk held their breath, their hearts pounding in their throats, watching helplessly as the other's sinister gaze swept over them, yet they seemed to see nothing at all.

The servant lowered the curtain, shook his head at his companion, and prepared to leave.

But just then, the Taoist priest driving the carriage said lazily, "Did I tell you to leave?"

The servant was taken aback, walked to the front of the carriage, and looked the Taoist priest up and down: "May I ask who you are?"

The Taoist priest grinned and said, "Zhang Li, the chief disciple of the Huangshan Taoist Temple."

The servant was startled, took a step back, and hurriedly clasped his hands in a salute: "I have disturbed you, Daoist Master, please forgive me."

Zhang Li said with a smile, "Is a simple 'I beg your forgiveness' all it takes? Slap yourself."

Without hesitation, the servant slapped himself ten times with his right hand until blood flowed from his face.

Zhang Li exclaimed, "The thugs raised by wealthy families are indeed sensible."

He glanced down at the Mountain Ghost Coin in the other person's left hand: "Beggars, I told you long ago that your method of using the Mountain Ghost Coin is against the will of Heaven. Go to the City God Temple in Chongnanfang and kneel down to atone for your sins until you throw out nine Yin-Yang divination blocks, then Heaven will forgive you."

The servant lowered his head and gritted his teeth: "Yes."

Zhang Li stopped looking at him and drove the carriage south. He hummed a little tune: "Oh dear, the elm seeds are light, the leaves sway, a leaf can block the view, the bluestone road is long. The little monk doesn't chant scriptures, the young lady is heartless, neither of them are as good as me, my snoring shakes the roof beams... Hey, this part should also be written into the story, wonderful!"

After saying that, Zhang Li suddenly took out a blank scroll from his bosom, pulled a brush from his hair, and began to write furiously on the scroll.

Xiaoman had never heard this tune before, and felt that the other person seemed to have improvised it. She also thought the Taoist priest was strange and didn't seem like a proper Taoist priest at all.

She looked up but couldn't see the little monk in the car; she could only feel his warm breath.

It wasn't until an incense stick had burned out, and the elm leaves on their foreheads cracked, that she noticed the little monk looking at her. Their eyes met briefly, and the little monk, unusually, looked away.

The carriage slowly came to a stop. Zhang Li lifted the curtain and looked inside. He gave the two of them a meaningful look and said, "I can't take you too far. Get off here."

Xiaoman asked in confusion, "How did you know we were in trouble, Daoist Master?"

Zhang Li raised an eyebrow: "My chief disciple from the Huangshan Taoist Temple is an expert in Liuren divination; he only needs to calculate with his fingers..."

Xiaoman said earnestly, "Thank you for saving my life, Daoist Master. You don't need to keep talking nonsense."

Zhang Li laughed heartily: "Tell your young master that I have repaid the favor from Luhun Manor in Luocheng; and I have also repaid the favor from the Four Dreams of Bianliang today. Quickly return the elm leaf in his hand, and the karmic debt will be settled."

Xiaoman rolled her eyes: "The person you saved this time was me, so how can it be considered repaying my young master's favor? It should be considered that I owe you a favor, you are my young master, and I am me. So, in all things considered, you still owe my young master a favor."

Zhang Li's eyes widened: "No, no, no, how can you calculate it like that? What use is this favor to me!"

Xiaoman didn't care about any of that. She pulled the little monk off the carriage and ran towards the Ministry of Personnel.

Zhang Li watched as Xiaoman's skirt and the little monk's moon-white robe fluttered up and down, his gaze gradually settling on their clasped hands: "Interesting, interesting! I'll write you and this little monk into my storybook too!"

(End of this chapter)