“May I ask your name, young master?”
“Fu Ya,” the young man’s face showed a mocking expression, curling his mouth, “You’ve probably never heard of me. But I have a brother named Fu Shen, whom you certainly know.”
Zheng Duanwen had noticed earlier that the man’s clothes were of excellent quality, and his pouch was delicate and refined. He didn’t seem like a ruffian. Little did he know that this casual act had brought the enemy’s brother right to them!
In truth, they hadn’t heard of Fu Shen having another brother during their time in the capital.
Over the years, he had little contact with the original family. Even after the war, when the Ying Gongfu was declining and he was at the height of his power, he had never helped the Fu family.
His visit to Xue Sheng suggested he was more than just unfamiliar – he was estranged.
“When I was in the South, I heard that Master Xue’s beloved daughter took her own life because of the empress,” Fu Ya said, “Though you haven’t shown it, I’m sure you still harbor deep resentment.”
Xue Sheng was suddenly touched on a raw nerve, his expression turning cold as he said in a low voice, “Knowing how much I hate the Fu family, how dare you step into my home?”
“Because I hate the Fu family just as much,” Fu Ya laughed neurotically, unconsciously licking his canine tooth, “Especially that particular Fu.”
When he laughed, his eyes narrowed, revealing a gaze like a venomous snake that made the two older men shudder. Xue Sheng’s palm began to sweat as he tried to maintain his composure and asked, “So you want me to help you deal with him?”
“No,” Fu Ya shook his head, pulling out a scroll from his sleeve and waving it, “I’m here to help you deal with him.”
He threw the scroll to Xue Sheng.
Zheng Duanwen leaned in to look, and after a quick scan, he inhaled sharply, cold sweat breaking out, stammering, “This… this is…”
“These are letters between my uncle and the Southwest rebel leader Duan Guihong. The sensational assassination at the birthday banquet back then is not unrelated to him,” Fu Ya crossed his legs, looking triumphant. “Surprised?”
The scroll contained two letters, along with several gift lists and documents detailing the annual “special products” sent from the Southwest to the Ying Gongfu, which Fu Ting Yi then transferred to the Qingxu Temple.
Xue Sheng’s hand trembled as he held the papers, veins standing out on the back of his hand: “The Ying Gonghou… do you know what you’re doing?”
His laughter suddenly stopped, as if falling into a state of chaotic madness, erupting in rage: “Damn nobles and generals, all beasts! Wearing a mask of benevolence, full of false righteousness, who knows what’s really inside! Deserved to be married off, cut off from descendants, dying and going to the lowest levels of hell…”
Fu Ya’s stream of obscenities made Xue Sheng and Zheng Duanwen, scholars from refined families, look disgusted.
Zheng Duanwen coughed and said, “Young Master Fu, do you know these documents could bring great disaster to the Ying Gongfu? Fu Ting Yi is your elder. If he and Fu Shen truly committed unforgivable crimes, even if your report is meritorious, you’ll still face interrogation. Have you thought this through?”
Xue Sheng glanced at him, seemingly surprised by his show of compassion.
Fu Ya was completely lost in his own emotions, laughing hysterically: “Hahahaha… Death is good, everyone should die! Especially that dog… the Flying Dragon Guard leader, Yan Xiao Han, he should be executed with a thousand cuts!”
“What a loyal noble family! In the end, they’ll be wiped out completely!”
“Cloud Ping,” Zheng Duanwen whispered to Xue Sheng, “He seems to be showing symptoms of ‘Autumn Night White’ poisoning. His mind is unclear. We need to verify the credibility of his words.”
I know,” Xue Sheng carefully rolled up those few pages of paper, his expression unchanged as he issued an order to dismiss the guest, “It’s late, Fang De should return to his mansion. I’ll have someone arrange for Young Master Fu, and tonight’s matter must not reach anyone else’s ears.”
Zheng Duanwen’s heart trembled, and he bowed deeply to Xue Sheng: “Then… I’ll trouble Brother Yunping.”
The dim candlelight cast heavy shadows in Xue Sheng’s deep-set eye sockets.
His face was like a sculpture with distinct contours, all expressions hidden beneath a layer of indifference, appearing inexplicably aged and eerily cold.
He nodded slightly to Zheng Duanwen and said, “Go.”
The moment he walked out of the Xue residence, the heavy door slowly closed behind Zheng Duanwen. He let out a breath, with a vague feeling of having escaped death. There was a coolness in the late-night wind that made his hair stand on end. He was drenched in sweat, his clothes sticking to his back, but he was too distracted to care. He hurriedly boarded his carriage and ordered the driver to head home.
The next day, Zheng Duanwen claimed illness and stayed home, never returning to court again. It was said that he was getting old and caught a chill on his way home at night. The next day, his family found him bedridden, half-paralyzed, with a crooked mouth. They hastily called a doctor who diagnosed a stroke. Due to delayed treatment, he would never recover and could only rest in bed with medication.
When Xue Sheng heard about this, he seemed unsurprised and showed no particular regret. He instructed his steward to send some medicinal herbs to the Zheng family, fulfilling this superficial courtesy.
A few days later, the young master of the Ying Guo Gong mansion suddenly disappeared. His family cried and reported to the Shun Tian Mansion, but times had changed.
A war had completely brought down the already declining Ying Guo Gong mansion. The indifferent clerk hastily dealt with the case and then tossed the file aside to gather dust.
Xue Sheng sat at his desk, carefully listening to his subordinate’s report on Fu Yaosheng’s background. After listening, he gave a cold laugh: “Like father, like son. Would Fu Ting Zhong be so angry he’d rise from his coffin if he knew he had such a son?”
A few years ago, Yan Xiao Han had punished Fu Ya twice, once cutting off his lineage and another time dragging him out to beat him at a wedding feast. This merciless beating had kept Fu Ya quiet for a while. But before he could plan his revenge, war broke out, and the capital was captured by foreign tribes. Fu Ting Yi fled with his entire family to Jiangnan.
The journey was arduous, and survival was the priority. Fu Ya dragged his sick body to Jinling. The wet and cold Jiangnan winter ultimately prevented his leg from fully healing, leaving him with a permanent limp.
Ironically, his own brother, who had lost his legs, was still galloping on the battlefield, while Fu Ya, who was physically whole, ended up a cripple.
With a lame leg and no heir, Fu Ya could never settle down.
Arriving in Jinling, this place of intoxicating flowers and dreams, he began frequenting brothels, living a life of wine and debauchery, squandering endlessly. Fu Ting Yi, almost a transcendent being, was unwilling to manage him, allowing him to waste away.
He contracted “Autumn Night White” in a Jiangnan brothel and still needed medication after returning to the capital. His monthly allowance insufficient, he gradually began stealing from home to sell.
“White Dew Powder” was a forbidden item in the capital, only tradable in the black market and extremely expensive. Fu Ya not only sold his own belongings but also secretly sold his mother’s dowry. When discovered by Lady Qin, it led to a massive family quarrel. Unable to bear the noise, Ying Guo Gong Fu Ting Yi simply packed his bags and moved to a countryside Taoist temple, avoiding the chaos.
