Rebirth as a Wind Cultivator - Chapters 7-9

Chapter 7: Hidden Gusts

Xiulan practically bounced down the Treasure Pavilion steps, her success fueling each step with renewed energy. Guard Han trudged behind, arms laden with the stacked jewelry boxes.

“Guard Han, you may return to the manor with these.” Xiulan pointed at the boxes. “We’ll make our way back shortly.”

His jaw clenched. “Miss Lin, I must insist—“

“That wasn’t a request.” Xiulan maintained steady eye contact. “Return to the manor. Now.”

Guard Han’s knuckles whitened around the boxes. “As you command, Miss Lin.” He executed a stiff bow before stalking away.

“Miss Xiulan...” Mei Chen tugged at her sleeve. “Should we antagonize Guard Han like that?”

Xiulan squeezed Mei Chen’s shoulder. “I prefer keeping certain matters private, and I’m not convinced of his discretion.”

Though he has already seen a lot and probably will report everything to Madam Zhang by the time we are back.

Well, there wasn’t much she could do about that. Independence wouldn’t be won in a single battle.

The festival crowd surged through the streets like a living tide. Xiulan navigated through them, recalling the colorful banners and merchant stalls from their earlier journey. Mei Chen clung to her sleeve, pressing closer as the masses thickened around them.

A savory aroma drew Xiulan to a nearby food stall. Steam billowed from bamboo baskets stacked three levels high.

“Two ginger meat buns.” Xiulan exchanged a tael for the piping hot treats.

Mei Chen stared at the offered bun. “Miss Xiulan, I couldn’t possibly—”

“Eat. We still have ground to cover.”

They wove through the crowd, savoring the spiced meat and soft dough. Mei Chen took tiny, proper bites while Xiulan devoured hers in four quick mouthfuls.

The weapons shop appeared ahead—exactly where Xiulan remembered passing it on their way out. Its weathered wooden sign creaked in the breeze.

“Miss Xiulan?” Mei Chen dabbed at her mouth with a handkerchief. “Why would we need to visit such a place?”

Xiulan gave her a serious look. “Because we can’t count on others to keep us safe anymore.”

The shop door groaned open. Heat and the sharp scent of coal rolled out from the back forge. Weapons lined the walls in neat rows—from ornate ceremonial blades to practical fighting steel. The festival sounds faded to a distant murmur.

A burly blacksmith emerged from the forge. “Welcome, noble ladies. How may I assist you today?”

Xiulan strode to the wall of daggers. “We both need a defensive weapon.”

“Me too?” Mei Chen squeaked.

The blacksmith stepped closer, gesturing to the displayed blades. “Each comes complete with a proper sheath, of course.”

“Something easily concealed inside a robe.” Xiulan ran her fingers along the displayed weapons.

The blacksmith nodded and ducked behind the counter. He returned with an assortment of leather sheaths laid across a worn cloth. “These come with adjustable straps. Should work for what you want.”

Xiulan picked through the selection, focusing on the smaller blades suited for Mei Chen. A slim dagger caught her eye—it’s handle barely longer than her palm.

“Try this one.” Xiulan held the sheathed blade against Mei Chen’s thigh.

“Miss Xiulan!” Mei Chen’s cheeks flushed crimson. “Here?”

“Better to check the fit now than discover issues later.” Xiulan adjusted the straps around Mei Chen’s leg, ignoring her squirming.

For herself, Xiulan selected a longer dagger with an eight-inch blade. She slipped it up her sleeve, testing the weight and balance. The metal felt cool against her skin.

“Seven taels for the small one, nine for the longer blade.” The blacksmith scratched his beard. “I’ll make it fifteen total for the pair.”

Mei Chen counted out the coins from her purse with trembling fingers.

“Put yours on now.” Xiulan secured her own dagger beneath her sleeve.

“But Miss Xiulan, we’re in public!” Mei Chen clutched the sheathed blade to her chest.

The blacksmith turned toward his forge, giving them privacy. “I see nothing but two proper young ladies making sensible purchases. Everyone should carry protection these days.”

Xiulan tightened the strap around Mei Chen’s thigh, ensuring the small dagger sat snugly against her leg. “There, that should do it,” she said, stepping back to inspect her work. Mei Chen’s cheeks remained flushed, but she nodded, her fingers brushing the hilt of the concealed blade through her robe.

Xiulan checked her own dagger one last time, feeling the reassuring weight beneath her sleeve. Satisfied, she turned to the blacksmith. “Thank you for your assistance.”

The blacksmith inclined his head. “Stay safe, noble ladies.”

They stepped back into the bustling street, the festival crowd humming around them. Xiulan led the way, weaving through the throng. Mei Chen stayed close, her eyes darting nervously.

The manor gates welcomed them back. As they entered, Xiulan felt the weight of the day settle on her shoulders. Productive, yes, but exhausting.

“Mei Chen,” Xiulan said as they walked through the courtyard, “I need to change into something lighter and get some rest.”

“Of course, Miss Xiulan.” Mei Chen’s voice held a note of relief.

Inside her temporary quarters, Xiulan paused to take in her surroundings. The room was spacious and elegantly furnished. Silk drapes framed the windows, and a plush rug covered the floor. A sense of unease flickered at the edges of her mind. The luxury felt alien. To both of us.

“Miss Xiulan?” Mei Chen’s voice broke through her thoughts.

Xiulan turned to her. “Keep your new blade hidden and on you at all times.”

Mei Chen’s eyes widened, but she nodded. “Yes, Miss Xiulan.”

Xiulan moved to her bed, slipping her own dagger beneath the pillow. It wasn’t much—and neither of them had any proper training—but it was better than nothing. She changed into a light robe, savoring the feel of the soft fabric against her skin.

Climbing into bed, Xiulan let out a sigh. The mattress cradled her body comfortably. She glanced around the room one last time, taking in the opulence.

“Goodnight, Mei Chen,” she said, her voice already heavy with sleep.

“Goodnight, Miss Xiulan.” Mei Chen dimmed the lanterns and quietly left the room.

Xiulan closed her eyes, letting the day’s events fade into the background. The soft rustle of silk and distant festival sounds lulled her into a deep sleep.

  *

“Miss Xiulan! Miss Xiulan!”

Xiulan jolted awake, her heart pounding. Mei Chen hovered over her, eyes wide with urgency. Sunlight filtered through the paper windows, casting soft patterns on the floor.

“What’s going on?” Xiulan rubbed her eyes.

“Your father sent for you,” Mei Chen said, her voice trembling. “He’s angry!”

Xiulan sat up, the weight of the statement sinking in. “Do you know why?”

Another servant, standing near the door, hesitated before speaking. “I heard talk about Miss Xiulan selling her jewels.”

Xiulan sighed, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. The mattress’s comfort felt like a distant memory now. “Help me get ready,” she said, resigned.

The servants moved quickly, their hands deft and practiced. They brushed her hair, tied it up, and presented her with several robes to choose from. Xiulan’s fingers lingered over a turquoise robe adorned with black and gold fabric. It was more formal and ornate than her usual attire.

“That one,” she decided.

As they dressed her, Xiulan’s mind wandered back to her previous life as Li Mei. She had always taken care of herself, never relying on anyone else. The attention felt strange, almost intrusive, except when it came from Mei Chen.

Once the robe was secured, Xiulan retrieved her blade from beneath the pillow and slipped it into her sleeve. She glanced at Mei Chen, who nodded in understanding.

“We better not delay,” Xiulan said, standing tall despite the knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach.

“Yes, Miss Xiulan,” Mei Chen agreed. “It’s best not to make Lord Lin more angry.”

Xiulan stepped out of her quarters, Mei Chen trailing closely behind. The morning air felt crisp, carrying the faint scent of blooming jasmine. They navigated through the winding corridors of the city manor, the intricate woodwork and ornate tapestries reflecting her family’s wealth and status.

As they approached the main hall leading to Lord Lin’s quarters, two familiar figures moved to block their path. Lin Qian and Lin Fei glared at her, exuding an air of smug superiority. Fei hid her face behind a delicate silk fan, likely concealing the bruises from their last encounter. Qian’s sneer twisted her features into an ugly mask of disdain.

“Well, well,” Qian began, her voice dripping with mockery. “We knew you were a tramp, Xiulan, but even you should know better than to defile Father’s generosity.”

Xiulan’s jaw tightened, but she kept her gaze steady. She had no time for their petty provocations. Without a word, she moved to pass them, her steps deliberate and unyielding.

Qian’s sneer faltered as Xiulan brushed past. “Don’t you dare ignore me!” Qian snapped, reaching out.

Xiulan stopped and turned, her eyes locking onto Qian’s. “Are you looking for another beating?” she asked, her voice cold and unwavering.

Qian froze, her hand hovering in mid-air. The memory of their last confrontation hung between them like a specter. Fei grabbed Qian’s arm, pulling her back.

“Come on, Sister,” Fei muttered, her voice muffled by the fan. “Mother and Father will cut her down. She’s not worth looking at.”

Her half-sisters retreated, their presence lingering like a bad odor. Xiulan watched them go, then resumed her path toward Lord Lin’s quarters. Mei Chen followed, her steps quickening to keep pace.

“Miss Xiulan,” Mei Chen whispered once they were out of earshot. “I don’t know how you do it. They’ve always been terrifying.”

Xiulan glanced at her maid, offering a reassuring smile. “Things will be alright.” Hopefully that didn’t turn out to be a lie.

They approached the grand hall, their footsteps echoing off the polished stone floor. The vast space, usually bustling with activity, now felt eerily silent. Only a few servants lingered at the edges, their eyes downcast. This wasn’t a public matter; it was personal.

Lord Lin Tian and Madam Zhang sat at the magistrate dais, their expressions stark contrasts. Lord Tian’s face was stern, while Madam Zhang’s eyes gleamed with barely contained glee. Xiulan’s anxiety simmered beneath her calm exterior, but she felt confident in her understanding of the situation.

She bowed deeply, her voice steady. “The Lin Family’s Second Daughter greets her honored Father and Mother.”

Madam Zhang’s smile twisted into something more sinister. “How dare you honor your father after what you have done?”

Xiulan straightened, feigning confusion. “What have I done, Mother?”

Lord Tian waved his hand, and Guard Luo Han entered, carrying her jewelry boxes from the day before. He set them down with a thud, opening each one to reveal their emptiness. Only a single silver necklace and earring set remained.

Xiulan’s thoughts sharpened. He’s definitely a spy for Zhang.

Lord Tian’s voice cut through the silence like a blade. “Explain this, Xiulan. Did you sell all your jewels?”

Xiulan met her father’s gaze, her mind racing through possible responses. She had anticipated this confrontation, but hadn’t expected it so soon. The weight of the family’s scrutiny pressed down on her, but she stood firm.

“Father,” she began, choosing her words carefully. “I did sell some of my jewels.”

Madam Zhang’s eyes narrowed. “Some? It looks like you sold almost everything. Including the precious gifts your father presented you.”

Xiulan stood her ground, meeting her father’s stern gaze. “I had no choice.”

Lord Tian’s eyes narrowed. “Explain yourself.”

She took a deep breath. “I had no funds to take care of my purchases.”

Madam Zhang’s smile widened as she hid her face behind her ornate fan, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Lord Tian’s voice grew colder. “Why are you so incapable of handling your own funds that you had to sell the birthday gifts I gave you?”

Xiulan straightened, her resolve hardening. “Father, my allowance is only five taels per month.”

The hall had been quiet before, but now the silence was so profound that Xiulan could almost hear the collective intake of breath. Five taels a month was less than a destitute farmer’s earnings and a pittance for a noble family’s daughter. The disparity was glaring.

Lord Tian’s expression darkened. “Just last year, I approved an increase in your allowance to four hundred taels. What do you mean that you have only been receiving five?”

Xiulan bowed deeply, her voice unwavering. “My own ledger can confirm it. I’ve only received five taels and never more, the amount being the same since I was a child and didn’t even manage my own funds.”

Her father turned his piercing gaze toward Madam Zhang. The smug smile vanished from her face as if wiped clean by an invisible hand.

“Explain this immediately.” Lord Tian’s words cut through the silence. “We discussed raising the allowance just recently as well.”

Xiulan watched Madam Zhang squirm under Lord Tian’s scrutiny. The usually composed woman opened and closed her mouth several times, completely at a loss for words.

"How dare you show such blatant favoritism when managing our family’s finances falls under your duties?” Lord Tian’s hands clenched in anger.

Perfect opening. Xiulan bowed deeply, keeping her eyes lowered. “Honored Father, please understand my reasoning for selling the jewels. Mother likely made an honest mistake in the accounting.”

Lord Tian studied her with calculating eyes, his stern features softening slightly.

“Perhaps,” Xiulan continued, maintaining her respectful pose, “Father could grant me the five thousand taels I would have received over the past year? It would allow me to replenish my jewels and manage my affairs properly.”

“Five thousand?” Lord Tian scoffed. “That’s nowhere near enough to make up for this.” He fixed his steely gaze on Madam Zhang. “You will compensate her for all missed allowances since she turned ten.”

“Thirty-eight thousand taels?” Madam Zhang sputtered, face paling. “The family budget for the month would—“

“Then spend less on yourself and your daughters!” Lord Tian slammed his hand against the armrest. “You’ve indulged for so long you’ve forgotten that your duty is to all members of this house!”

He looked at Xiulan and waved her off. “Things will be taken care of. That is all I wished to discuss with you.”

Xiulan bowed once more. “Thank you for your forbearance and wisdom, Honored Father.”

As she retreated from the hall, Xiulan felt Madam Zhang’s hateful stare burning into her back.

*

Chapter 8: Poisonous Zephyr

Xiulan strode down the corridor toward her quarters, each step lighter than before. Mei Chen practically bounced beside her.

“This is wonderful news, Miss Xiulan! Your wardrobe needs attention, and now we can restore your collection of—“

“Let’s not rush to spend everything.” Xiulan pinched the bridge of her nose. If I’d waited one more day, I could have bought the ingredients without owing that favor to Master Qingfeng.

But maybe this was fine, too. Even if she owed a favor—that was a connection. Treasure Pavilion was ubiquitous and having access to them would be critical for just about any pursuit she followed.

A familiar figure appeared ahead in the corridor. Zhang Wei shuffled along, keeping his head down. Xiulan rushed forward, her heart racing as she spotted the purple-yellow marks on his face.

“Who did this?” Xiulan gripped his shoulders, examining the bruises.

“It’s nothing.” Zhang Wei attempted a weak laugh. “Just got hurt a little.”

The forced cheerfulness in his voice made her stomach twist. Madam Zhang. Or the sisters. They’re taking their anger out on him.

Xiulan pressed her fingers to her forehead, exhaling slowly. “You should spend time in my courtyard, Little Brother. Come visit your older sister more often.”

“But aren’t we returning to Lin Manor soon?” Zhang Wei kicked at the floor. “The festival’s over...”

“We’ll be departing in a few days,” Mei Chen said quietly.

The unspoken truth hung heavy. Back at the manor meant Xiulan’s return to the servant quarters, away from her current comfortable chambers.

One problem at a time. Xiulan squeezed Zhang Wei’s shoulder. “Don’t hesitate to come to me if you need help, understand?”

She turned to Mei Chen. “Is it time for lunch? I’m famished.” She turned a smile toward Zhang Wei. “Would you like to eat with me, little brother?”

Zhang Wei bounced on his heels. “Yes! Can we eat in your room?”

Xiulan led them to her quarters where servants bustled about, already setting a low table with gleaming dishes and cutlery. Mei Chen worked methodically in the corner, organizing empty jewelry boxes into neat stacks.

“And then the fire-breathers shot flames so high!” Zhang Wei sprawled on a cushion, gesturing wildly. “The crowd went wild when they made dragon shapes!”

Xiulan smiled as he gave her a very in-depth version of the festival day.

The aroma of braised duck and ginger filled the room as servants carried in dishes. Steam rose from bowls of fragrant rice and vegetables in oyster sauce. This is different. According to her memories, meals usually comprised plain rice and simple vegetables.

Mei Chen beamed at the spread while maintaining a respectful distance. The joy in her eyes sparked an idea in Xiulan’s mind.

“Mei Chen, join us.”

“Miss Xiulan!” Mei Chen’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t possibly—“

“Sister’s right!” Zhang Wei patted the cushion beside him. “There’s plenty!”

The other servants stiffened, exchanging disapproving glances as they arranged the last dishes.

“Please.” Xiulan gestured to the cushion. “I insist.”

Zhang Wei reached for a piece of duck, but Xiulan caught his wrist. He blinked at her in confusion.

Xiulan pulled her silver poison sensing needle from her sleeve. The polished metal caught the light streaming through the open windows.

“What’s that?” Zhang Wei leaned forward, squinting at the thin implement.

“Just a precaution.” Xiulan dipped the needle into the duck first, watching for any reaction. The silver remained bright and untarnished. She moved methodically through each dish—the vegetables, the rice, the sauce. The needle stayed pristine through each test.

The soup broth remained. Steam curled invitingly from the ceramic bowl as Xiulan lowered the needle. The moment it touched the liquid, black smoke coiled up from the silver surface. The metal darkened to an oily sheen.

Mei Chen clapped both hands over her mouth. “Miss Xiulan!”

“What happened to it?” Zhang Wei reached toward the needle, but Xiulan pulled it away.

“This meal is poisoned.” Xiulan’s words cut through the room like a blade.

The servants froze mid-motion—one still holding a water pitcher, another adjusting place settings. Their faces drained of color.

Really? Xiulan pinched the bridge of her nose. I just left Father’s hall. They couldn’t even wait a full day before trying to kill me again?

Xiulan stood in one fluid motion. “Mei Chen, inform Father immediately.”

“You—“ She pointed at a servant near the door. “Fetch Physician Jin Wei.”

The servants shifted nervously as Xiulan planted herself between them and the evidence. No tampering allowed.

Rapid footsteps echoed through the corridor minutes later. Lord Lin burst into the room, his face flushed red and eyes wide with panic. His gaze darted past Xiulan, landing squarely on Zhang Wei.

“What’s happened to my son?” he demanded, his voice trembling beneath the harshness.

Xiulan bowed deeply. “Honorable Father—”

“Enough! Speak plainly,” Lord Lin interrupted, his words a command more than a question, his eyes never leaving Zhang Wei. “Why was he brought here?”

Xiulan straightened, her voice steady. “The soup was poisoned.”

The air seemed to freeze between them. Lord Lin’s expression shifted from anger to fear, his face pale as he turned his gaze to Zhang Wei.

She could tell exactly what he was thinking and it… hurt. His second son had been put at risk.

“And how exactly would you know this?” Lord Lin’s eyes narrowed at her.

Before Xiulan could respond, Jin Wei swept into the room. His robes rustled as he offered a quick bow.

“Examine this soup.” Lord Lin jabbed a finger toward the steaming bowl. “My daughter claims it’s poisoned.”

There it is. Xiulan suppressed an eye roll. Heaven forbid he take my word for it or let me explain. At least this saved her from revealing the silver needle tucked safely in her sleeve.

Jin Wei lifted the bowl, swirling the liquid beneath his nose. He dipped a finger into the broth and touched it to his tongue. After a moment, he lowered the bowl and bowed to Lord Lin.

“My lord, the soup contains a powerful emetic. While not immediately lethal, it would cause severe illness lasting several days.”

Lord Lin whirled toward the servants. “Who prepared this meal?”

The servants huddled together, heads bowed. Xiulan gripped Zhang Wei’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Mei Chen pressed against her side, trembling.

“Speak!” Lord Lin’s roar echoed off the walls.

A young servant dropped to her knees. “This lowly one helped prepare the soup, my lord.”

“And?” Lord Lin loomed over her.

“Second Miss... Second Miss Lin Fei gave me a packet.” The servant pressed her forehead to the floor. “She said it would help Miss Xiulan’s digestion after her injuries.”

Of course she did. Xiulan tightened her grip on Zhang Wei’s shoulders.

“Guards!” Lord Lin’s face darkened to purple. “Take this wretch to the courtyard and give her fifty lashes!”

The servant wailed as guards dragged her away. Zhang Wei flinched beneath Xiulan’s hands. Xiulan bit her lip. That was almost certainly a death sentence.

Xiulan swallowed hard. “Father?”

“What is it?” Lord Lin snapped.

“This daughter requests permission to return to Lin Manor early, along with Brother Wei.” Xiulan kept her tone steady despite the churning in her stomach.

Lord Lin rubbed his temples. “Yes, yes, that is a good idea. Things have been too chaotic. That could restore balance.”

  *

The carriage rocked gently as Xiulan settled onto the cushioned seat. Fresh straw crackled beneath the wheels while servants loaded the supply wagon behind them. Through the open window, the spring breeze carried hints of wood smoke and spices from the city’s cooking fires.

“And then we can practice calligraphy together!” Zhang Wei bounced on his seat across from her. “Sister Xiulan always has the best brushstrokes. Don’t you think so, Mei Chen?”

“Young Master speaks true.” Mei Chen sat primly beside Xiulan, smoothing her simple gray dress. “Miss Xiulan’s characters flow like silk.”

A genuine smile tugged at Xiulan’s lips as she watched the preparations through the window. The sound of marching boots drew her attention to Captain Bai Chen approaching the carriage in his polished armor.

“Honored Second Daughter.” Bai Chen bowed crisply. “I regret I cannot escort you personally, but twenty of our finest guards will ensure your safety.”

Xiulan leaned forward. “Tell me, Captain, will they truly keep us safe? Sometimes the greatest dangers are not those that lurk outside.”

Bai Chen straightened, muscles tensing beneath his armor. He pressed his fist to his chest in a formal salute. “I selected each guard myself. Their loyalty lies with the Lin Family above all else. You have my word.”

Loyalty means little if Madam Zhang’s silver means more. Xiulan inclined her head. “Thank you for your diligence, Captain.”

The city streets parted before their procession like water around stones. Merchants paused their haggling, children stopped their games, all bowing as the Lin family carriage passed. The gates loomed ahead, iron-bound wood groaning as they swung wide.

Beyond the walls, the countryside sprawled in spring’s glory.

“The manor has the best view of the valley.” Zhang Wei pressed against the window. “From the east tower, you can see all the way to—“

Xiulan half-listened to her brother’s excited chatter, studying the terrain instead. The game never showed this route in detail. Her ride through it days prior had been done in an injured haze. She idly traced the concealed dagger in her sleeve.

The sun traced lazy arcs across the sky as their carriage rolled steadily onward. Xiulan calculated the distance in her mind—a day’s journey at minimum, likely stretching into tomorrow. They’d need to make camp tonight, just as they had on their initial journey to Blackmere.

The thought of their previous travel sparked suspicion in her mind. The timing of their carriage accident seemed too convenient. Madam Zhang or those vipers she calls daughters must have had something to do with it. But proof was in short supply, especially since someone had ordered the wreckage burned rather than salvaged.

Destroying evidence of tampering, perhaps? The driver’s death eliminated one witness, though Xiulan wondered if his demise had truly been accidental. A dead man couldn’t reveal who had paid him to sabotage the carriage.

Although the bloody memory of the man dangling in the branches was enough to reconsider that. Maybe she was just grasping at straws.

The entire situation was a convoluted mess. A deep sigh escaped her lips before she could catch it.

“Miss Xiulan?” Mei Chen leaned forward. “Are you unwell?”

“Just tired.” Xiulan massaged her temples. “Recent events have given me much to consider.”

“Those monsters deserved everything you gave them!” Zhang Wei punched the air triumphantly.

Xiulan shot him a sharp look. “Careful with such words, little brother. The wrong ears could bring dire consequences.”

Zhang Wei deflated slightly, but squared his shoulders. “I’ll be more careful. But I want to help fight too!”

“I know you will.” Xiulan reached across to ruffle his dark hair.

“Sister!” Zhang Wei ducked away from her hand. “Stop that!”

The carriage wheels crunched along the mountain path as they ascended through dense forest. Xiulan traced the familiar route in her mind—a plateau waited at the summit, followed by more woodland and a meandering stream that would guide them home. The Lin Manor sprawled across the mountainside like a small city, with grand pavilions for Lord Lin, Madam Zhang, and Lin Jin dominating the grounds.

Everyone has their own space except me. Xiulan drummed her fingers against the window frame.

Her sisters’ private courtyards, the countless guest halls, even the army of servants with their designated quarters filled the compound. Mother’s tiny, neglected courtyard tucked away in a corner sparked a fresh wave of indignation. Even Zhang Wei claimed more space than Xiulan did.

That needs to change immediately. Privacy would be essential for her plans.

“Halt!” A shout pierced the afternoon quiet. The carriage lurched to a stop.

“What’s happening?” Mei Chen gripped the seat cushion.

“Bandits?” Zhang Wei pressed his face against the window. “Will the guards fight them? I want to see—“

“Sit down.” Xiulan pulled him back by his collar and peered outside.

A cluster of ragged men blocked the road ahead while Lin guards advanced with hands on their weapons. Dirt and desperation caked the strangers’ faces as they refused to move.

*

Chapter 9: Sheltering Breeze

A guard rushed past the carriage, his armor clinking with each hurried step. “Stay inside! It’s safer here,” he barked, not even sparing a glance back.

Xiulan’s eyes narrowed. Something felt off. The strangers didn’t move like bandits. Their postures slumped with exhaustion, not aggression. Faces gaunt and clothes tattered, they looked more like beggars than threats.

“Miss Xiulan, please stay inside,” Mei Chen pleaded, clutching Zhang Wei’s arm.

Xiulan shook her head. “Hold on to little brother and keep him safe.” She met Mei Chen’s worried gaze, conveying a silent promise. “I’ll handle this.”

Mei Chen hesitated but nodded, pulling Zhang Wei closer. “Be careful.”

Xiulan stepped out of the carriage, the cool air biting against her skin. She moved toward the front, each step calculated and steady. The guards shouted, dragging some of the ragged men to the ground, treating them like animals.

“What’s going on here?” Xiulan’s voice cut through the commotion.

The guards froze, eyes wide with shock. The ragged men dropped to their knees, foreheads pressed to the dirt. “Mercy, noble lady,” they begged in unison.

The lead guard straightened, his face a mask of irritation. “Miss Lin, please return to the carriage. We’ll deal with them quickly.”

Xiulan’s gaze hardened. “What is your name to command a daughter of the Lin Family’s main house?”

Silence stretched as the guard’s confidence faltered. He swallowed hard but said nothing.

“Release them,” Xiulan ordered, her tone brooking no argument.

The guards hesitated before obeying, letting go of the men who scrambled to join their companions in kowtowing.

“Explain yourselves,” Xiulan demanded, eyes scanning the desperate faces in front of her.

One man lifted his head slightly. “May I speak, noble lady?”

“Granted,” Xiulan replied, crossing her arms.

The man raised his head slightly, revealing deep-set eyes and weathered skin. “We’re woodsmen from the eastern forests near Lin Manor, noble lady. Three days past, our landclaim caught fire.”

“A fire?” Xiulan studied the group more carefully now. Soot still stained their clothes and skin.

“Yes, my lady. The landlord showed no mercy. Evicted us straight away.” The man’s voice cracked. “We haven’t eaten proper since then.”

Another woodsman coughed, drawing Xiulan’s attention to his bandaged arm. Burns peeked out from beneath the dirty wrappings.

“Why not head to Blackmere City?” Xiulan frowned. “It’s not far.”

The spokesman gestured to his companions. “Three of us suffered burns in the fire. We’ve only managed this distance in three days, and the city...” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“Has no one stopped to help you?” Xiulan glanced down the road. It was empty except for her group, but merchant caravans and official carriages would be passing regularly on the route.

“They either mistake us for bandits or...” The man’s shoulders slumped. “Most folk don’t want to dirty their hands with beggars.”

Xiulan understood the cruel logic. These men, covered in dirt and soot, represented everything the wealthy travelers feared or despised. The nobles wouldn’t risk their reputation by associating with commoners, while merchants wouldn’t risk their profits on charity.

Xiulan frowned at the woodsmen’s tale. Something didn’t add up. The magistrate’s office maintained strict protocols for handling displaced citizens, especially after disasters. Even a simple messenger should have reported this to her father or someone in charge days ago.

“We’ll stop here and provide aid,” Xiulan announced, turning to the guard leader.

The guard straightened his back. “Miss Lin, we cannot delay. Lord Lin and Captain Bai gave explicit orders to escort you and Young Master Wei directly to the manor.”

Xiulan surveyed the clearing. The mountain pass opened wide here, creating a natural rest stop between the towering cliffs. Scattered stones formed rough circles around blackened patches of earth—remnants of previous campfires. Crude lean-tos made from branches and leaves dotted the perimeter.

“We’d need to make camp soon anyway.” Xiulan gestured at the setting sun. “This spot seems as good as any.”

The guard shifted uncomfortably. “Miss Lin, our orders—“

“Would you have the Lin family give up their duties to these people?” Xiulan straightened her spine. “Do you intend to cost my father further face?”

A ripple of murmurs spread through the guards. Several nodded, their rigid postures softening.

“We’re barely a day from security.” Xiulan pressed her advantage. “Our supplies can easily stretch to help these men. I’m not asking you to escort them back to the city—just share what we can spare.”

The guard leader’s shoulders sagged. He dropped into a deep bow. “You speak wisely, Miss Lin. We’ll make camp here.” He turned to his men. “Set up the perimeter! Get fires started!”

The guards sprang into action, unloading supplies from the convoy with practiced efficiency. Xiulan looked to the woodsmen and pointed to a cleared space off the main road. “Set up camp there. Help each other get settled.”

The men shuffled toward the indicated spot, supporting their injured companions. The convoy wagons rolled off the path, their wheels crunching against loose gravel.

“Sister Xiulan!” Zhang Wei bounced on his heels next to the carriage. “Can I sleep here tonight? I’ll protect our noble transport!”

Xiulan suppressed a laugh at his enthusiasm. “The carriage is yours to defend.”

“Miss Xiulan.” Mei Chen stepped closer, wringing her hands. “Are you certain about this?”

“Look at them.” Xiulan nodded toward the group. “No weapons, and those burns are real enough. They need help, not suspicion.”

“Of course.” Mei Chen bowed slightly.

“Fetch the burn medicine from our supplies. The sooner we treat their injuries, the better.”

The guards erected Xiulan’s tent in a grassy clearing near a stand of trees. The canvas stretched taut, dwarfing the other shelters sprouting around the camp. Small fires flickered to life, but did little to ward off the growing chill.

“...weather’s turning sour,” a guard muttered nearby.

“Could get nasty if the wind picks up,” another responded.

Xiulan lifted her gaze to the darkening sky. Heavy clouds rolled in from the west, promising an unwelcome spring shower. The threatening clouds didn’t burst though, leaving an overcast evening sky that turned into a vivid pink hue.

The aroma of cooking food wafted through the camp as guards distributed portions to the grateful woodsmen. Xiulan watched from her carriage as the men devoured their meals with desperate intensity, scooping rice and vegetables into their mouths.

“Sister Xiulan, try this!” Zhang Wei pushed a steaming bowl toward her. “The cook made extra dumplings for us.”

Xiulan accepted the bowl. A quick test with her needle confirmed it was safe, not that she thought Zhang Wei would poison her or there was much of a risk at this point, but building the habit would be good.

The dumplings tasted good—perfectly spiced pork wrapped in soft folds. She glanced at Zhang Wei, who stuffed two dumplings into his mouth at once.

It didn’t take long for her to finish her meal.

“Mei Chen.” Xiulan set down her empty bowl. “I need you to speak with the woodsmen.”

Mei Chen blinked. “Miss?”

“Find out about their landclaim, their landlord—anything they’ll share.” Xiulan adjusted her sitting position on the carriage step. “They might tell you more than they’d tell me.”

“But Miss Xiulan, shouldn’t you—“

“They won’t speak freely to a noble.” Xiulan smiled at her maid’s confusion. “You’re closer to their station. They’ll trust you more.”

Understanding dawned on Mei Chen’s face. “I’ll take care of it, miss.” She nodded and headed toward the group of men.

“Why do you want to know about them, Sister?” Zhang Wei licked dumpling sauce from his fingers.

“The magistrate should have helped them already.” Xiulan frowned at the makeshift camp. “Aid for displaced citizens is law, not charity. Something doesn’t add up.”

“You’re so smart, Sister!” Zhang Wei bounced in his seat. “You helped these people and now you’re going to find out what really happened!”

Xiulan reached out and tousled Zhang Wei’s hair. He ducked away with a playful squeal.

“Maybe we’ll learn something useful.” She massaged her temple as a wave of dizziness washed over her. “Though I need to rest now. The day has been long.”

“Are you okay?” Zhang Wei straightened up, concern etched across his face.

“Just tired. I’ll retire to my tent.” Xiulan stood carefully, steadying herself against the carriage. “Stay with the guards, okay?”

He nodded, but she could feel his eyes on her back as she walked off.

The interior of her tent provided blessed quiet. Xiulan sank onto the portable bed, staring up at the canvas ceiling. The fabric rippled softly in the evening breeze.

A strange disconnect settled over her. The old Xiulan would have ignored the woodcutters and would have cowered before the guard’s authority. Yet here she was, questioning everything, helping strangers, and taking charge.

Zhang Wei and Mei Chen seemed to accept the changes without question. They followed her lead, trusted her judgment. But were these actions truly her own? As Li Mei, she had played Phoenix Kingdom Chronicles cautiously, rarely taking risks. Even in the game world, she had stayed in her comfort zone.

Yet these decisive actions felt right. Natural. As if Xiulan had always wanted to act this way but couldn’t break free from her constraints. Was she simply enabling Xiulan’s true nature to emerge?

Li Mei or Lin Xiulan?

The thought struck like lightning.

The line between them blurred more each day.

Her identity stretched thin between two lives, two sets of memories, two different souls. She pressed her palms against her eyes.

The question echoed through her mind, impossible to answer: Which one was she?