Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Luo Qianyu had confirmed it.

Perhaps he could have deceived himself earlier—thinking Wen Yu had leapt onto the roof merely to gain a vantage point for catching the thief.

But as he rounded a corner of the eaves, the sound of wind followed closely behind him.

And seeing the thief run farther and farther away—vanishing completely from sight—while Wen Yu showed no sign of pursuit… Luo Qianyu was utterly despondent.

The other man’s target was unmistakable: *him*.

Luo Qianyu truly admired his own ability to think clearly under such circumstances. He pondered silently: Wen Yu’s sudden change of heart—this complete reversal—had it begun the moment he saw that unfolded folding fan?

…Wen Yu had seen those words.

He already knew Luo Qianyu was the Mysterious Guest who had intervened at Zhaixian Tower!

Luo Qianyu’s heart pounded wildly. He couldn’t comprehend it at all. Why would Wen Yu ignore the thief right before his eyes—and instead chase *him*, an innocent passerby who’d done him a favor? What did he even intend to do if he caught him?!

Luo Qianyu recalled there had been a wooden ladder when he climbed up—right beside the Mingyan Pavilion. Now that he’d missed that rooftop and couldn’t retrace his steps, he had no choice but to steel himself and search for another way down.

Wen Yu’s martial prowess was exceptional—as established in the original story. With the Jade Spirit Sword in hand and concealed blades hidden in his sleeves, his footsteps were light yet radiated overwhelming pressure.

Luo Qianyu gauged the distance—the pursuer was drawing closer and closer. He could only curse this body for its utter uselessness: clearly lacking physical training, pampered, delicate, and nobly born. He hadn’t run far at all—yet his breathing was already ragged.

Luo Qianyu turned at every corner. The eaves were tightly spaced, allowing him to maintain his balance—but after several twists and turns, his heart still hammered with terror. He began to regret ever getting involved in this mess; the more frustrated and wronged he felt, the more bitterly he dwelled on it.

Doing a good deed anonymously—only to provoke such a ferocious chase. *Your Wen family’s affairs? This Young Master will never involve himself again!*

Turning onto the eaves behind the Mingyan Pavilion, the street below gradually widened. Though he still walked along the rooftops, there were no more alleys, corners, or narrow passages where he might lose himself. Luo Qianyu thought: *This is bad. This roof is steep—difficult to turn on, even harder to stop on!*

At that moment, a patrol of riders suddenly approached from the distant market—eight or nine men strong.

They wore jet-black Flying Fish Robes, with golden flying fish embroidered on their chests; the hems of their robes snapped and fluttered in the wind like dancing flames. Their horses’ hooves clattered over the bluestone-paved road, charging forward like falcons in the night. Xiuchun Swords—carved with clouds and dragons—hung at their waists, an imposing sight indeed.

Just then, Luo Qianyu stepped on a loose tile and tumbled from the steep eaves.

A rush of wind swept past—and instead of hitting the ground, he landed squarely in the arms of the patrol’s leader.

That man instantly reined in his horse. The steed reared with a whinny and came to a steady halt.

The men behind him visibly startled, reining in their mounts one after another.

“Who goes there?!”

“A scholar falling from the sky?”

“How bold! Daring to disrupt the Jinyiwei’s night patrol? Identify yourself!”

…*He’d run straight into a Jinyiwei night patrol?*

Luo Qianyu remembered he’d worn Zhao Nian’s clothes when he went out. In this dynasty, the long robes and sashes of a Tutor bore an eighty- to ninety-percent resemblance to those of a scholar—no wonder these Jinyiwei called him a scholar.

When they got a clearer look at the “scholar’s” appearance, their expressions froze for a moment. In that brief instant, the deep frowns on their faces took on a strange, subtle quality. When they spoke again, their tone carried unmistakable suggestiveness. They steadied their horses and began to tease:

“Wait—where did this Little Beauty come from, throwing himself into our arms?”

“Rushing straight into the Battalion Commander’s arms like that—looking to warm his bed, are you?”

“Falling from the roof, hair disheveled, clothes in disarray. Could it be some little ‘flying’ thief just escaped from a household? Let’s take him back and *interrogate* him properly!”

The more he heard, the more preposterous it became. These Jinyiwei’s insulting intent was barely veiled. Luo Qianyu was taken aback—but caught the key detail: the man on horseback who’d caught him was a Battalion Commander. Could it be…

“Open your dog eyes wide and see clearly who this Young Master is!”

Luo Qianyu sat up straight, lowered his voice, and reprimanded sternly.

The lead Battalion Commander’s voice clearly hitched. “…Brother?”

Brother?

…

The Battalion Commander’s name was Luo Shifu—the fourth son of the Luo family. Above him in the Marquis’s household were two elder brothers: one resembled the old Marquis in temperament and appearance—a crude, military brute; the other was famously handsome, a dissolute playboy who haunted pleasure quarters.

The subordinates exchanged glances, broke out in cold sweat, hearts sinking—knowing disaster had struck. They quickly dismounted and performed a deep bow: “Your humble subordinates were blind and foolish, our hearts clouded just now. We were blind—and have offended a noble. We deserve to die ten thousand times.”

Luo Qianyu had no time to deal with them—so he snorted coldly.

“Blind and foolish? Then sober up properly.”

“Kneel here until tomorrow’s *chen* hour. That should be just in time for your duties the next day.” The Young Marquis leaned out from the Battalion Commander’s shoulder and said coldly, “Since you have time to interrogate people—you naturally have time to kneel.”

The Jinyiwei felt a chill run down their spines—and bowed their heads. “Yes, your humble subordinates obey.”

Luo Qianyu tightened the reins and handed them to the awe-inspiring Battalion Commander. “Take me back to the manor.”

As the horse started moving—and the building’s eaves receded farther and farther—Luo Qianyu finally felt at ease.

…He’d nearly had his cover blown by the protagonist *shou*.

The Young Marquis intentionally hid his face. Combined with having no hairband to tie up his hair, his locks were disheveled—leaving him a disheveled, unseemly mess. So he remained still, obediently nestling into the hollow of the man’s neck and shoulder. Everything else could wait until they returned to the manor.

However, as he shifted slightly, he inadvertently caught the unmistakable scent of blood on Luo Shifu.

The original owner had always treated this fourth younger brother poorly—finding fault with his appearance and personality, disliking everything about him. When he grew older and learned that this so-called brother wasn’t actually of the Marquis’s bloodline—but a child mistakenly switched with a peasant family at birth—his attitude worsened further.

Later, Luo Shifu remained in the Marquis’s household but joined the Jinyiwei. Whether due to his own formidable abilities or the Marquis’s backing, he rose extremely quickly over the past two years—and was now the renowned Battalion Commander.

Little did he know, as various buy-stock *gong* appeared later in the plot, the Young Marquis inadvertently discovered that his most despised fourth brother, Luo Shifu, also harbored those kinds of feelings for Wen Yu—which enraged him even more!

And readers loved this kind of melodramatic showdown—brothers competing, even coming to blows over the protagonist *shou*.

He knew Luo Shifu had endured humiliation and hardship all these years, biding his time. Now in charge of the Imperial Prison—doing the dirty work despised by the world—whenever returning to the manor, fearing the family’s taboos and disdain, he would often change into clean clothes, burn incense, and wash away that bloody scent before permitting himself to approach and speak.

It seemed today’s events had been sudden—and the other hadn’t had time to deal with it yet.

Luo Shifu clearly sensed his elder brother’s aversion and stiffened slightly, leaning back a little. But then he heard the person in his arms grit his teeth: “Luo Shifu—try moving one more time?”

Luo Shifu pressed his lips together—and didn’t move again.

Yet the wind blew strands of hair from the person in his arms—occasionally brushing against his neck, tickling his throat.

That faint fragrance was entirely overwhelmed—and masked—by the bloody scent clinging to his own body.

The marketplace wasn't too far from the Marquis's estate. Even though the distance was greater than to the Mingyan Pavilion, with their powerful horses carrying them, the two quickly returned to the estate, sneaking in through a side entrance.

Upon learning from the servants that the Marquis hadn't returned yet, only then did Luo Qianyu breathe a sigh of relief.

The ancestral hall, which he had found tedious before, now seemed tolerable. Compared to the heart-pounding fear of having his cover blown by Wen Yu, he would rather spend a few more days being punished in the ancestral hall than risk falling from the eaves again.

Speaking of falling from the eaves...

Luo Qianyu took off Zhao Nian's outer robe and, recalling the events of the night, casually asked, "I punished your subordinates today. Do you feel sorry for them?"

"They were ignorant and offended you, Elder Brother. Having them kneel in punishment is already merciful and forgiving." Luo Shifu handed over the neatly folded clothes, holding the dangling end of the sash, his expression remarkably calm. "Why would I feel sorry?"

Punishing your subordinates right in front of the Battalion Commander, even though it was them kneeling, was essentially a slap in your face.

This fourth younger brother probably harbored deep resentment toward his elder brother in his heart, wishing he could kill him, but he couldn't show it on the surface, acting instead like a long-suffering, virtuous wife.

"Hmph, a crooked stick will have a crooked shadow." Luo Qianyu allowed the other to help him tie the sash. Though he had initially intended to tease, recalling the earlier scene, an inexplicable anger welled up inside him, and he said coldly, "I've long heard that these Imperial Guards are usually arrogant and domineering, bullying innocent civilians. Seeing them today only confirmed their reputation. They didn't even exchange three sentences before casually trying to drag someone back for interrogation, their mouths full of filth. I suppose their Battalion Commander leads by example daily."

Luo Shifu acted as if he hadn't heard, kneeling on one knee behind Luo Qianyu. He took off his own black hair ribbon, clenched it between his teeth, and gathered the Young Marquis's hair as he knelt on the prayer cushion, wrapping it around in circles and tying it securely.

"Brother, where is your hair ribbon?"

"Hair ribbon?"

"Yes, the red one you like."

Luo Qianyu's heart sank.

Come to think of it, he had left neatly but returned with his hair loose. When he encountered Luo Shifu earlier, he had even fallen from the sky, wearing the Tutor's clothes, and landed straight into his arms. His whereabouts were indeed quite suspicious.

Fortunately, in the original story, the relationship between the two brothers was poor, and there would be many entanglements in the future. Given the Young Marquis's temperament, he would disdain explaining the cause and effect to this not-so-close fourth younger brother. Luo Shifu was also tactful and hadn't dared to press for details along the way.

Even if he had ten times the courage, he wouldn't dare secretly tell his father.

"Perhaps it fell somewhere."

Luo Qianyu pretended not to care much, lowering his eyes as he said, "If it's lost, then it's lost."

*

Wen Yu stood by the window ledge and stopped.

The night was like dark silk, deep and dim. The outlines of the flying eaves and bracket sets were sketched by the moonlight, shadowy and indistinct. The Imperial Guards kneeling in punishment hung their heads dejectedly, muttering complaints to each other in low voices, unaware that someone was on the eaves.

Wen Yu held the red hair ribbon in his hand, the night breeze gently lifting it.

After a long while, that vibrant red was wrapped around his wrist.

Round and round, then tied into a knot.