Why do I have so many masters?

Zhu Yunmeng lazily woke up in the morning, with rays of sunlight sneaking through the gaps and falling upon her face.

She lay there idly for a long while before lazily rising, her black hair smooth as silk cascading down one shoulder.

There was a piece of paper on the table, written upon it in tiny, ornate seal script was a poem.

The last two lines "Looking back at where the eagle was shot, a thousand miles of evening clouds soothe." she played with for a long time, very much liking them. The affect of the lines alone might not have been so profound, but yesterday an arrow had been shot, breaking through miles of mountain forest, elevating the status of these verses considerably.

A young maid knocked and entered, carrying a warm basin of water, and while attending to Zhu Yunmeng as she washed and dressed, she couldn't help but say with a giggle,

"Miss, do you know what happened today?"

Zhu Yunmeng, seeing her look so eager to share, said with amusement,

"What happened?"

The maid said, "Miss, do you remember the Gao Family, the He Family, and the Zhong Family, all those people?"

Zhu Yunmeng said nonchalantly,

"I naturally remember."

Her name was renowned in Jiangnan, which had thirteen roads, yet she did not stay in one place for long; wherever she went, children from noble clans and both scholars and martial artists flocked to her, her hands scattering generous amounts of silver coins.

What the maid referred to were the most attentive offspring of noble families she had met this month, who even considered making unwanted advances. Had the studio where she stayed not had some influence, they might have succeeded in taking advantage of her.

Such enmity, she naturally would not forget.

The maid, somewhat excited, said,

"Miss, miss, you don't know,"

"Someone saw today, those nobles' children were kneeling in a line outside Mei Family's gate, all with bruised and swollen faces, so pitiful!"

Zhu Yunmeng was slightly shocked, recalling that these were almost the top prodigals of Wanling City. She instinctively asked, "Who did it?"

At this question, the maid grew even more excited, her round eyes almost shining as she said,

"It was their own parents who beat them. Sister Feng said every time the Gao family head comes here he's breathless and half-dead, but when it comes to beating his son, he's extremely vigorous."

"He even broke several whips."

Zhu Yunmeng's face slightly flushed, and she raised her hand as if to strike, saying,

"Such a young age, and not learning good things, always listening to such matters?"

The maid stuck out her tongue, holding her head as she begged for mercy.

Zhu Yunmeng didn't really strike her, but gently patted her shoulder and then, as if deep in thought, she softly muttered the young nobles' names, looked at the window and said,

"Shall we... go take a look?"

That voice, adjudged as tender and graceful or could be sorrowfully stirring, was full of eager anticipation.

The maid was momentarily stunned.

Shortly after, a charming and elegantly dressed middle-aged woman knocked on the door, softly persuading,

"Young lady, it's time for you to go down and play the guqin."

"This time a gentleman has offered a thousand gold pieces just to hear your music; you really shouldn't keep such an honored guest waiting too long..."

"Young lady?"

After waiting a while, there was no response from inside, the voluptuous woman hesitated, softly said excuse me, and gently pushed open the door.

The room, decorated modestly like a noble young lady's boudoir, was empty.

All that was visible was the open window, with curtains slightly stirring in the breeze.

The plump woman wore a bitter smile on her face.

The main gate of Wanling City had four entrances, all of which opened every morning at the first quarter past Chen Hour.

The signboard on the eastern gate, engraved with the characters for "Wanling," had been crafted by an ancestor of the Mei Family three hundred years ago. Its robust elegance still surpassed that of many famous families today.

Many nobles and distinguished scholars traveled thousands of miles to Wanling City, with the primary intent of seeing the calligraphy of the celebrated scholars of the past. Even though they had closely imitated it countless times, seeing it with their own eyes always invoked different thoughts and feelings.

Wang Anfeng and Hong Luoyu walked through the city gate, and now they were on Jiangnan Road, far away from Wangxian County. With Wang Anfeng's speed, it was impossible to travel back and forth in one night, but for Hong Luoyu, distance was trifling.

Wang Anfeng had spent the previous night sitting on a bluestone atop Great Liang Mount.

He didn't return home, nor did he go to Wang Hongyi's house. He simply sat cross-legged on the bluestone, under the star-filled sky, while the lights of Great Liang Village, ten miles away, seemed within reach.

Hong Luoyu lay on a large tree behind the stone, bottle in hand, his left arm resting behind his head, utterly relaxed.

At the touch of dawn's dew, Wang Anfeng seemed to awake from a deep dream.

He glanced at his awakening homeland and then turned to leave.

By the time he returned to Wanling City, it was the third quarter past Chen Hour. Days ago, the sky would still have been dark at this time, but now it was bright. Wanling City was bustling with people coming and going.

Wang Anfeng walked slowly forward, showing no signs of anything unusual. When he heard passersby rushing to go watch the spectacle at the Mei family's gate, his brow furrowed slightly, and without thinking, he turned and walked in another direction.

He would rather take a long detour back to the inn than encounter those dissolute young masters.

He found these people irritating. If not for the constraints of propriety, he would have preferred to end it with a single sword strike. Yet others found it amusing—especially a few notorious bullies of Wanling City, influential in every direction. After such a big loss by the large families, they all wanted to join the spectacle.

When Wang Anfeng turned into a side alley, two figures sneaked out from the other end.

The older one wore a Confucian robe with wide sleeves, flat-soled quick boots, and hung a jade ornament. He dressed like a Confucian Scholar but his features were strikingly handsome, followed by a young scholarly attendant, a master and servant both in brand-new clothes as though recently purchased.

If those nobles, black and blue from kneeling, had seen this scholar, they would recognize him as Zhu Yunmeng. Three years ago in Jiangnan, he was named the most beautiful person among the thirteen roads, "Bewitching Lords and Princes with a Long Song."

Though she frequented the brothel's painting boat, none dared disrespect her.

In Jiangnan's thirteen pathways, some places would beg for a year and still not see her face.

In the painting boat, stewards begged her to play a tune on the qin but could not coax a song from her, no matter how much they fawned. She did whatever she wished.

This time, ignoring the rules, she sneaked out. She guessed that those young nobles were probably from yesterday's encounter below Tiantai Peak, curious if the archer from yesterday would appear.

The scholar lightly waved his folding fan, the fan covering most of his face, only revealing a pair of jade-like eyes, then presuming himself seamless, swaggered toward the direction of the Mei Household.

As he crossed a small alley, he paused briefly, turning his head to the left.

At the other end of the alley, a woman with a cold, jade-like face, dressed in white and carrying a sword, walked slowly. Behind her, in a green shirt with white hair, carried a broad sword.

Wang Anfeng's steps halted.

In the broad street ahead, for some reason, there were few people, and as far as his ocular power could reach, only one woman walked slowly toward him.

Her long hair draped over her back, her right hand intertwined with golden rope and jade locks.

Dressed in black with black hair, only her skin was white as frost and snow.

Her bare feet tread on the bluestone, untainted by the mundane world.

Behind her, a sword was carried.

At that moment, it was the fifth quarter past Chen Hour, already late spring. The sun in the sky spread its rays everywhere, bathing her in bright light. Yet, the place where she stood seemed to be enveloped in profound darkness.

The golden rope and jade locks wrapped around her fingers gently swayed.

The woman's floating dust rose and rested on her arm, her eyes solely on Wang Anfeng.

"You've finally come."

PS: Today's first post...