Chapter Seventeen: The Little Foolish Girl

However, after she closed her eyes, the anticipated pain never came. Instead, a sharp clashing of blades echoed crisply in her ears.

Lin Zhaozhao quietly opened her eyes and saw a stray stone—no one knew where it came from—shatter the enemy’s arrow on the ground.

Lin Zhaozhao gasped inwardly. My heavens, could it be a divine intervention?

“Little fool, what are you looking at? Run now!” came a harsh voice.

Who was this “little fool” directed at? Was it her? Lin Zhaozhao’s heart burned with frustration, but in the life-or-death moment, there was no time to argue about who was insulting whom.

Especially since the opposing group looked formidable—dressed all in black, faces covered, swords drawn, plunging towards the young master and his entourage.

The crowd on the street scattered like frightened birds.

The leader swiftly drew his blade and struck, demanding, “Tell me, who sent you?”

The others refused to answer and lunged with their swords.

Lin Zhaozhao remained silent. So, she was just an innocent bystander caught in the crossfire!

But life was paramount. Since she wasn’t the target, she bent down and slipped into a wooden barrel inside a neighboring shop.

Just as she hid, the leader’s long blade rested on an enemy’s neck. With a single powerful strike, he severed the black-clad man’s head. Truly heroic!

Yet the attackers were numerous and fierce. Even if the man could fight ten at once, the situation was far from resolved.

Especially since the city guards had yet to arrive, the intruders arrogantly declared, “Hand over the young master, and we might spare your lives. Otherwise, don’t blame us for being merciless!”

Could the leader agree to that?

“Spare me your delusional nonsense!” one of the defenders spat. “If you want the young master, you’ll have to trample over our corpses!”

“The young master lives, or we die with him!”

Lin Zhaozhao was stunned by their boldness and the thrilling scene unfolding before her—far more vivid than any sword fight she’d ever seen in theaters.

Chivalry, loyalty, and brotherhood filled the air—

“Miss, please look after the young master for me!”

Before she could even finish thinking this, the young master’s group, shameless as they were, threw the young master right into her arms as the attackers closed in.

Lin Zhaozhao was aghast. No, big brother, I’m your nursemaid, fighting alongside you! You don’t protect the rear but instead draw all the fire onto me? I suspect you don’t want me to take care of the young master—you want us both buried together for company!

At that moment, whether from the fall or exhaustion, the young master’s eyes fluttered open. He looked at Lin Zhaozhao and asked, “Who are you?”

Who else could I be?

“I’m nothing but a cursed soul!” she wanted to cry but had no tears. She lifted the white veil under her eyes and said, “Remember my face. In your next life, repay me, whether as a beast of burden or a servant!”

The young master blinked in confusion.

“Hmm?” he murmured.

Still “hmm”ing?

“I’m taking a thousand taels of silver from you, yet your men have me risking my life in this mess!” Lin Zhaozhao looked at the sword slashing toward her and hurriedly pleaded, “Brothers, blame the right person! Don’t kill the wrong one!”

The leader didn’t believe her and raised his sword, ready to strike her down as well.

Then, orderly footsteps approached.

“The Imperial Guard of the Capital is here! Who dares act so recklessly?”

An arrow flew from the approaching cavalry.

The black-clad man who was about to kill Lin Zhaozhao was instantly beheaded.

“Damn!”

“The Imperial Guard?”

“What do we do?”

“Retreat! Fall back now!”

The attackers gritted their teeth and fled immediately.

The men protecting the young master seized the chance to scoop him up.

“This is trouble—the Imperial Guard has arrived.”

“Miss, let’s split up and retreat!”

Lin Zhaozhao was speechless. “You think about splitting up now that I’m safe! You never mentioned this when we were all in danger together!”

“Zhaozhao!” a worried voice called from the crowd. It was Madam Bai.

“Mother, I’m right here!” Lin Zhaozhao hopped over.

Madam Bai was so scared she nearly cried. “Are you alright?”

“Of course I’m fine, mother!” Lin Zhaozhao spun around and declared, “I’m blessed with good fortune. What could possibly happen to me?”

“If anything were to happen, it should be to others, not you!” Madam Bai said softly.

She was expected to be gentle, yet unexpectedly she slapped Lin Zhaozhao’s back, tears reddening her eyes.

“You reckless child! Running about without fear? I heard there are assassins around here. If something happened to you, I might as well not live!”

She pulled Lin Zhaozhao into a warm embrace.

The unique scent and warmth of Madam Bai enveloped Lin Zhaozhao, who felt utterly helpless.

Since being abandoned by her parents—who had her at barely eighteen or nineteen—Lin Zhaozhao had never known parental love.

She instinctively resisted, feeling embarrassed.

Yet her eyes grew moist, overwhelmed by an inexplicable blend of sorrow and choking emotion.

“I won’t run off again, Mother…”

* * *

In any case, the turmoil in the capital was widely known—even Lin Wanyue knew every detail.

She only wished Lin Zhaozhao had perished in the chaos.

Especially seeing Lin Zhaozhao return clutching so much gold made her stomach churn!

She knew that gold rightfully belonged to their mother. With Lin Zhaozhao stealing even a bit, her own dowry would be diminished. How could she feel anything but bitterness?

Fortunately, after a few days, their grandfather took a concubine, and big brother sent word that he had returned to the capital.

He had been delayed dealing with northern border affairs alongside their father.

Big brother was always the most caring toward Lin Zhaozhao.

When she was brought back home, his heart was entirely devoted to her.

He was unlikely to treat Lin Zhaozhao with the same inexplicable kindness that their parents and Lin Qingci showed.

* * *

Elsewhere, at the Four Joy Inn in the capital.

Last night, the third prince of the northern tribes, Altai, met with the Emperor of Dayong. Afterwards, he discussed cooperation between their two nations with Qingyuan Marquis Lin Yuanzhi and his eldest son, Lin Qingwu.

But after hours of negotiation, both sides were dissatisfied with each other’s shameless demands.

Dayong coveted the northern tribes’ famed sweat-blood horses and livestock, asking for thousands of them outright.

The sweat-blood horses were the finest, unbeatable steeds on the battlefield.

The northern tribes, enduring harsh winters, sought Dayong’s grain, silk, porcelain, and even books, and insisted that Dayong’s troops stationed at the border withdraw within a ten-mile radius.

Lin Qingwu saw their demands as arrogance, while Altai found Lin Qingwu stingy and petty.

Naturally, the talks reached a stalemate, frozen in a cold war of wills.