As long as Fang Xuyu was at home, he would share an afternoon coffee with Old Master Fang.
He brewed the coffee himself and always tasted the first sip.
Only when both the strength and temperature were just right would he bring the coffee over and sit beside Old Master Fang. The two of them would sit in their rocking chairs and slowly finish their cups together.
So, before Old Master Fang ever drank his coffee, Fang Xuyu had already tasted it. Old Master Fang was meticulous and suspicious; any attempt at pretending would be easily discovered, and refusing to drink would be even more unusual. Thus, this plan was never one that could guarantee Fang Xuyu’s safe retreat.
But Old Master Fang’s actions had already reached the point of inciting the wrath of both heaven and men.
If he did not die, a large number of innocent people in Lingren Village would soon perish. At such a time, someone had to step forward. Jin Yuebai had originally intended to do it herself, and Xi Jueyun had also said during their discussions that she could go to the Fang residence and create an opportunity to kill Old Master Fang.
Yet, once this plan was set in motion, not only would the two of them die, but it would also implicate many people from the theater and Flower Street. That was why they had never decided what to do, and their analysis had reached an impasse.
It was at this moment that Fang Xuyu appeared.
To put it bluntly, when it came to killing Old Master Fang, he was the most suitable person.
He had the highest chance of success, the most escape routes, and would implicate the fewest people. Everyone understood this, but because of his blood relation to Old Master Fang, no one had ever thought to involve him, nor did anyone want to use him.
Xi Jueyun never considered binding him with a debt of gratitude.
Xiao Congye never thought of coercing him with morality or righteousness.
Jin Yuebai, who had known him the longest, never tried to play the emotional card, recounting his unhappy childhood.
Xi Jueyun let out a soft sigh.
She unfolded the note Fang Xuyu had just handed her. On the front was the origin and usage of the Yingling Flower.
Fang Xuyu’s handwriting was much like himself—gentle strokes, no harsh connections between the lines, earnest and beautiful.
“The Yingling Flower first appeared two years ago, the year the drought began to show its signs. Some poor villagers died on the road between Lingren Village and other villages. Since leaving the bodies there was not an option, people threw them on the back mountain, intending to bury them all together when they had time.”
Fang Xuyu wrote, “But the drought that year was too severe. The bodies on the back mountain piled up higher and higher. My father stepped in and stopped this, thinking it was inauspicious and fearing the stench would reach the village. He forbade anyone from dumping bodies on the back mountain.”
“Half a month after stopping, my father called some workers to the back mountain, intending to bury the corpses. But in just a few days, all the bodies had turned to white bones, and strange black flowers grew from some of the skeletons.”
“One worker died suddenly when he got close to the flowers. My father suppressed the incident and, restless at night, contacted a folk geomancer to investigate. In the end, he learned that this was an evil flower called the Yingling Flower, which feeds on resentment. Its pollen is poisonous and dissolves in water. In large amounts, it causes hallucinations and addiction.”
“Not only the pollen—even the petals are toxic. Once burned, the thick smoke causes hallucinations wherever it goes. Covering your nose with limewater can help, but not for long. You must leave the toxic area as soon as possible.”
“The geomancer urged my father to destroy the flowers, telling him to send in a few wrongdoers to uproot them at once, bury them in clean soil untouched by death, and then cover the earth with several thick marble slabs. In a few months, the black flowers would die.”
“All this I heard last night while listening to the patrol team’s discussion.”
Fang Xuyu’s handwriting was calm. “By now, you’ve probably guessed it: my father, blinded by greed, didn’t destroy the flowers. Instead, he killed all the workers who saw them and began deliberately cultivating his patrol team, tempting them with benefits to dump bodies on the back mountain.”
“That’s how the Yingling Flowers were raised.”
Fang Xuyu continued, “From then on, the valley beneath the cliff on the back mountain became forbidden ground. Every day, my father sent people to guard it. The place is remote, far from the road out of the mountains, so no one ever goes there. To this day, it remains undiscovered by outsiders.”
“Or rather, even if someone stumbled upon it, the patrol team would kill them and throw them into the valley.”
At this point, Xi Jueyun seemed to realize something and quickly scanned further down the note.
As expected, Fang Xuyu addressed the secrecy of the matter.
“Master Li, Master Liu, and Master He—all three came here half a year ago to escape the war, and their patrol teams were formed after arriving in Lingren Village. They’re all my father’s people, so they know nothing about this.”
“Master Wang knows my father has a secret on the back mountain, but he’s timid and cherishes his life, so he never pries. My father tested him several times, and he was so frightened he knelt repeatedly and swore to the heavens. He probably doesn’t know either.”
Old Master Fang held a status above everyone else in Lingren Village.
He had lived there for over twenty years. Simply put, he was the biggest local tyrant—everyone had to consider his attitude before acting.
Seeing that the matter had not yet been discovered, Xi Jueyun unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief.
The Yingling Flower should be destroyed quietly, its existence never known to anyone.
She continued reading.
The rest was Fang Xuyu’s own ramblings, writing whatever came to mind.
For example, “The water was really cold that day.”
“My older brother, having lost the ability to have children, pushed me into the river behind the village. If the troupe leader hadn’t passed by and saved me, I really would have died.”
“In truth, given our father’s character, whether I lived or died, my brother was already useless to him.”
“He would have preferred to adopt a healthy boy with the Fang surname.”
For example, “I know Sister Xiao treats me well.”
“When some kids laughed at me for growing my hair long and wearing skirts, you always scolded them for me.”
“Though sometimes your expression was so fierce, even the children were scared to death of you.”
And, “I’ve really known Sister Yuebai for a long time.”
“When I was little, my father didn’t want me or my mother, so my mother lived on Flower Street. I ran everywhere, and though the sisters there didn’t know how to raise children, they still raised me well.”
“I learned to wear skirts and do my hair like them. Every time, the sisters would smack my hands, telling me I was a boy and that people would laugh at me for it.”
“But I just liked it. They were wonderful, everything about them was wonderful.”
“After my brother had his accident, my father brought me home. By then, my mother had already passed away. My father began to pay special attention to me. I ate things so expensive that ordinary people couldn’t earn enough in years, but I didn’t like them. Bad food is just bad, no matter how expensive.”
“From the day I was brought home, my hair grew longer and longer. Sometimes I forget whether it’s a preference or an obsession.”
“Would my father ever love someone like me?”
Finally, Fang Xuyu wrote:
“I know Shaochun and Que’er both died on the back mountain last night. There’s one thing that might honor their spirits.”
Fang Xuyu wrote earnestly, “The enemy is about to invade Lingren Village. This morning, Master Li and Master Liu, trying to escape the war, drove toward the back mountain but were killed by my father’s men. Their patrol teams were also slaughtered by my father’s confidants, and their bodies have already been fed to the Yingling Flowers.”
“More Yingling Flowers are blooming.”
“Master He, who left an hour ago, met the same fate.”
“And now, it’s the turn of the true culprit—my father.”
“I grew up on Flower Street, wore their clothes, ate their food. My mother was cared for by everyone there. Even her burial money was raised by them. I had the best mother in the world, and I will become the best version of myself.”
“Lastly, please come to the Fang residence with blades and swords in half an hour.”
*
Half an hour later, the group set out as planned.
Because there were some elderly people in the theater and children in their teens, for safety’s sake, they all stayed at the theater, and Yu Renwan remained behind as well.
Although Shen Xiaoxiao was wracked with pain in bed, she remembered that Shen Huanhuan had been killed by Old Master Fang’s men. Gritting her teeth, she struggled to get up, wrapped a kitchen knife in cloth, and tucked it into her clothes.
When they arrived at the Fang residence, the guards who usually stood outside were gone.
Xi Jueyun stepped forward, and with a creak, the exquisitely crafted doors slowly swung open.
Inside, the Fang residence was laid out like a garden, with small bridges and flowing water. Even in this time of drought, Old Master Fang still managed to obtain fresh water to keep his expensive ornamental fish alive.
Jiang Yan followed Xi Jueyun forward.
The outer courtyard was deserted, as silent as death itself. Even the insects had fallen quiet.
As they neared the inner courtyard, Jiang Yan finally heard faint sounds of suffering. Xi Jueyun gently pushed the door open a crack and saw men writhing on the ground.
Some were dry heaving, vomiting up coffee laced with Yingling Flower pollen.
“Fang Xuyu mentioned this,” Xiao Congye whispered. “Whenever he brewed too much coffee, he’d share it with the Fang residence’s patrol team. Coffee is precious here, and Old Master Fang saw it as a good way to win people over, so he never stopped him.”
Jiang Yan counted the patrol members on the ground—there were only eight.
But it made sense.
All the patrol teams belonged to Old Master Fang. After the three masters left, their teams should have come under his command.
But he was too greedy.
He wanted to raise as many Yingling Flowers as possible before leaving tomorrow, so he killed not only the fleeing masters but also all patrol teams not directly under him. Today’s gunfire on the back mountain had caught the others off guard; Old Master Fang suffered almost no losses, while his opponents were wiped out.
Now, all four who went to Flower Street were dead. Old Master Fang had only eight patrol members left.
But he didn’t care.
He was confident—confident that he could leave unscathed.
After all, Master Wang was no threat, the villagers were unarmed, and he had both cars and guns. There was no one in Lingren Village who could stop him.
But now, he could not leave.
Through the crack in the door, Jiang Yan saw Fang Xuyu and Old Master Fang sitting at the dining table.
The table was covered with dishes, all rare delicacies.
Fang Xuyu sat with his head propped on his hand, his eyes unfocused, looking utterly exhausted. Old Master Fang was in much worse shape, slumped in his chair, blood streaming uncontrollably from his nose.
He asked Fang Xuyu why.
But Fang Xuyu didn’t answer. He only asked, “Do you remember five years ago?”
A look of confusion flashed in Old Master Fang’s eyes.
Fang Xuyu murmured, “That New Year’s Eve, I had a fever—so high I was delirious. You were afraid the doctor would come too late, so you carried me to the pharmacy, so anxious you couldn’t even speak clearly, just kept pinching your palm.”
“I think you cried that day.”
Old Master Fang let out a hoarse laugh, dismissing Fang Xuyu’s sentimentality. Knowing he couldn’t escape today, he deliberately disgusted Fang Xuyu, saying, “As long as you’re alive, that’s all that matters.”
“You only drank one sip. You won’t die. As long as you live, you’ll have children, and those children will have my blood. The Fang family won’t die out!”
Fang Xuyu said nothing more.
He gazed quietly at his father, sadness deep in his eyes.
After a moment, he suddenly gave a self-mocking smile.
“But I was sterilized three years ago.”
Old Master Fang’s eyes widened instantly.
Because he had drunk the entire cup of coffee, the side effects hit him quickly. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, his body shaking uncontrollably. He pointed at Fang Xuyu in fury, unable to utter a single word.
Half a minute later, he staggered to his feet, grabbed the coffee pot, and poured the remaining coffee all over Fang Xuyu’s face.
Bang!
The coffee pot crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces.
The pollen could be inhaled or dissolved in water. Now, as it ran down Fang Xuyu’s face, it seeped into his nose and mouth.
Fang Xuyu closed his eyes.
Xiao Congye rushed forward in alarm, but Xi Jueyun grabbed her arm.
“He didn’t dodge,” Xi Jueyun whispered.
The movement just now had been slow—Fang Xuyu hadn’t tried to avoid it.
Xiao Congye stopped in her tracks.
Drinking it directly was even more potent than inhaling. Within minutes, Old Master Fang slid from his chair, and Fang Xuyu collapsed onto the table, his pupils unfocused. The remaining patrol members, who hadn’t drunk as much, were still writhing on the floor.
Xi Jueyun now pushed the door all the way open.
She strode in, and with her Mandarin duck sword, drove the blade straight through a man’s throat. Xiao Congye swung her axe, chopping off two men’s arms and legs. Supported by Jiang Yan, Shen Xiaoxiao half-knelt on the ground, raising her knife and stabbing Old Master Fang in the chest.
Jin Yuebai walked toward Fang Xuyu.
By now, he had stopped breathing. His posture was odd—one hand tucked inside his shirt at his chest, as if protecting something from being stained by the coffee.
Jin Yuebai reached inside.
A few seconds later, she drew out a stack of yellowed papers from Fang Xuyu’s embrace.
Jin Yuebai gently unfolded the papers. The very first page was the deed of sale she had signed to Old Master Fang.
Then came Chuchu’s.
Ayan’s.
Little Chen’s.
All the deeds of sale for everyone from Flower Street were here.
Jin Yuebai’s eyes reddened.
She lowered her gaze, fighting back the surging emotion, her fingers tightly gripping those thin sheets of paper.
Not a single day of their lives had been free, but in death, at last, they were free.