How Could I Resist His Madness and Charm [Transmigration] - Chapter 14

The two took the money pouch, lied to their grandmother that they were going to Changsheng’s house for a meal, and then swaggered down the mountain.

Zhu Yun found a straw hat and raincoat to shield her from the sun and block her view, preventing her from feeling dizzy or nauseous from the swaying branches and leaves while he used his qinggong.

The mountain wind howled past, dispersing the summer heat. Luo Yan, lying on his back, let out a soft cheer.

The furrow between his brows, which had been tense all morning, finally relaxed. He deliberately slowed his pace so she could enjoy the moment a little longer.

When they reached the foot of the mountain, Zhu Yun went to a farmer’s house to borrow a horse, a routine he was familiar with.

Though it was called borrowing, it was actually a paid rental. The farmer, seeing their youth and fine silk clothing, couldn’t resist the urge to jack up the price.

Unexpectedly, the young man hid behind the girl, drew a dagger, and provocatively made a throat-slitting gesture at the old man.

The old man swallowed his words and led out a surprisingly fine horse he had acquired.

Luo Yan, unaware of the underlying tensions, came out and said to Zhu Yun, “He didn’t even ask for a deposit. Isn’t he afraid we’ll run off with the horse?”

Zhu Yun smiled, helped her settle into the saddle, then mounted the horse himself and changed the subject: “In my opinion, archery, hidden weapons, and poisons suit you best. Though they still require hard training, they’re easier than hand-to-hand combat.”

“Poisons?” Luo Yan looked up at him suspiciously. “That sounds like you’re training me to be an assassin or a killer.”

“…”

Although the Moon Embracing Pavilion was jokingly called an assassin’s den by those in the martial world, they never resorted to poison or covert killings. Instead, they ostentatiously left evidence behind.

This was because eighty percent of their clients were so-called righteous sects, and their targets were usually family members, friends, or lovers.

If they wanted to act in secret, why hire outsiders? It was precisely to distance themselves that they employed assassins.

Not wanting to frighten her, Zhu Yun steered the conversation back to the horse: “When the summer heat passes, how about I teach you to ride?”

“Sure!” Luo Yan happily stroked the horse’s mane.

As they caught sight of the town gate in the distance, she suddenly remembered something important and said nervously, “My cousin’s men might still be in town.”

“Don’t worry.” Zhu Yun pinched her cheek. “I’ll handle everything.”

Luo Yan didn’t believe him and pouted. “How old are you, always pretending to be so mature?”

He chuckled. “I don’t know who those people are, but do you think if they knew you were in Hanmei Town, they wouldn’t come to the village?”

That was true.

Luo Yan blinked slowly and answered in a questioning tone, “Because you did something.”

“Mm.” He was now very glad he had found cleaning up corpses too troublesome and hadn’t resorted to lethal measures. “Don’t worry, I just broke the horses’ legs and the carriage shafts to make them back off.”

Hearing this, her worry turned to delight, and she praised him generously: “You’re really amazing.”

Zhu Yun secretly breathed a sigh of relief and helped Luo Yan dismount.

They first went to the blacksmith in the southern part of town. He had Luo Yan wait in the courtyard while he negotiated, then took out a few white jade gems and had the blacksmith embed them on the outer surface of the quiver as decoration.

After finishing their business, it seemed a waste to head straight back, so the two went to the largest restaurant in town.

The storyteller was recounting the tale of the noble family in Cangxi being wiped out.

Of course, the authorities had already concluded it was the work of bandits. Common folk wouldn’t voice their suspicions openly, only saying that His Highness, out of familial affection, had held a grand funeral.

And it didn’t stop there, he also recruited craftsmen to renovate the Luo residence and distributed charitable rice porridge in Cangxi.

Many of the diners wiped their tears with their sleeves, nostalgically discussing the late Crown Prince and remarking with relief, “His Highness truly takes after his father.”

The story then shifted to the extraordinary signs at the birth of that prince and the rumors surrounding the late Crown Prince and his consort. Though they had never met him, the entire teahouse was filled with guests expressing pity and admiration.

Luo Yan inwardly gave a thumbs-up: The influence of a dragon-level protagonist is truly something else.

“Do you like it?” Zhu Yun tilted his head to look at her.

“Not particularly.”

The storyteller had omitted specific references like “the Luo family” and “the Crown Prince’s grandson.” Moreover, she usually avoided discussing family matters in front of Zhu Yun when talking with her grandmother, so she wasn’t worried he would connect her to the story.

With deep emotion, Luo Yan said, “I just think fate is unfair.”

As the male protagonist, countless people rushed to serve as stepping stones for him, while she, in contrast, was practically a stepping stone herself. Comparing oneself to others only brings frustration.

Hearing this, Zhu Yun looked up from his book, giving her a surprised glance. “That doesn’t sound like something you’d say.”

She propped her chin on her hand and smiled. “Bringing a book out to play doesn’t sound like something you’d do either.”

“…” Zhu Yun was holding The Qing Shan Compendium of Medicinal Herbs, intending to study it first before teaching Luo Yan. Teased by her, he gestured toward the storyteller and said, “Boring.”

This reminded her that, aside from martial arts training, Zhu Yun didn’t seem to have particularly strong emotions. Whether it was food or games, he treated them with indifference.

Luo Yan asked, “What do you find interesting?”

Zhu Yun furrowed his brow, his gaze sweeping over her face before he suddenly spoke: “You.”

Her cheeks flushed hot instantly, the blood rushing to them so vividly that she covered her face with her hands, leaving only her eyes visible as she glared at him shyly.

However, Zhu Yun tilted his head in confusion and continued his unfinished sentence: “Didn’t you give away your hairpin? I’ll buy you a new one.”

Luo Yan froze for a moment before realizing it had been a misunderstanding. She swung her fist at him, pounding his arm with a series of thuds.

Zhu Yun: “?”

Flustered and angry, she snapped, “Answering questions with nonsense, I hate you the most.”

“Oh, what did you ask me earlier?”

His tone was utterly innocent, making it hard for Luo Yan to press the issue. After stewing for a moment, she asked again, “I was just trying to find out what you like so I could prepare a birthday gift for you.”

“By the way, do you know your birthday?”

Zhu Yun nodded. “The fifteenth of August.”

“That’s coming up soon, then.” Luo Yan bit her lip, worrying about what gift to prepare. Then, hearing him ask about her birthday in return, she counted on her fingers and converted the date. “The first day of the twelfth month, it’s still a long way off.”

The birthday gift didn’t need to be expensive, but it had to reflect thoughtfulness.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t skilled at handicrafts, nor could she cook. After much deliberation, the only talents she could claim were calligraphy and playing the guzheng.

So, after finishing their iced drinks, she took Zhu Yun’s hand and detoured to a bookstore.

In the Great Li Kingdom, printing costs were high, so bookstores usually had long-term partnerships with copyists.

Upon entering, Luo Yan walked straight to the cashier and addressed the middle-aged man tapping an abacus: “Excuse me, are you still hiring copyists?”

The shopkeeper lifted his eyelids, saw a strikingly elegant young lady, and frowned, thinking, What is a privileged person doing in our humble shop? His words couldn’t help but carry a hint of disdain: “The embroidery workshop is to the left after you go out.”

Luo Yan ignored his remark and squeezed Zhu Yun’s hand to prevent him from lashing out. After silently calming the human-shaped weapon, she continued, “First, take a look at my handwriting. If you’re not satisfied, I’ll buy ten books as an apology.”

The bookstore was already filled with scholars, and upon hearing this, they all gathered around curiously.

Hindered by the fierce glare of the young man, the crowd tacitly halted their steps, but that didn’t stop them from egging her on: “Shopkeeper Wang, hurry up and fetch the paper and brush. Let’s see her show us her skills!”

As they were all regular customers, the shopkeeper couldn’t easily refuse. Scratching his temple, he gestured toward the table by the wall, where paper and brush were readily available.

Luo Yan had studied the Ouyang style of calligraphy and, out of interest, had also practiced the delicate Zanhua and slender Shoujin styles. She confidently rolled up her sleeves and began to write.

With each character she penned, the chatter in the room grew quieter, until finally, everyone held their breath.

The shopkeeper, too, stared wide-eyed. His large belly leading the way, he rushed over to examine each character closely, exclaiming repeatedly, “Marvelous!”

Someone called out loudly, “Young lady, would you be willing to transcribe two books for me?”

This question was like water splashed into hot oil. More and more scholars clamored, offering higher prices to hire her for transcription work. But Luo Yan had no need for money. She smiled at the shopkeeper and was invited into the inner room to discuss further.

After settling on a delivery date, Zhu Yun escorted her away, looking puzzled. “If you needed money, you could’ve just told me.”

“I don’t need it,” Luo Yan teased, keeping him in suspense. “You’ll find out later.”

The men’s alternating cheers still echoed in their ears, and Zhu Yun’s face darkened as if ink could be wrung from it with a little more effort.

Luo Yan didn’t understand the reason but recalled the flustered way everyone had kept their distance. She joked, “Bringing you along is so convenient. Whenever I run into annoying people, I’ll just shut the door and release A-Yun.”

He was so exasperated he almost laughed, reaching out to pinch her cheek. “Well, well, you dare call me a dog?”

Luo Yan failed to dodge in time and tilted her chin up. “Oh, my neck hurts so much. I wonder who did it? So hard to guess.”

“…” He held back.

After wandering around the town to their hearts’ content, the two returned along the same path. When they arrived home, they found Grandmother tending to her small vegetable garden.

Luo Yan found it amusing but was afraid of encountering bugs, so she volunteered to stay outside and sort the vegetables.

Zhu Yun had only read halfway through his pharmacopoeia and intended to return to his room to continue, but Luo Yan caught him. Pointing at the large basket, she said, “You don’t expect me to do this all by myself, do you?”

“Didn’t you volunteer?” Zhu Yun paused. “Let him help you.”

“Who?”

No sooner had she asked than familiar footsteps sounded. Liu Changsheng entered, carrying fresh fish, and asked curiously, “Why is everyone staying home today?”

Luo Yan quickly waved him over, lowering her voice to coordinate their story. “We went to town, but we told Grandmother we were having a meal at your place. Don’t give us away!”

Liu Changsheng sat on a small stool beside her. Without anyone noticing, he picked up a handful of vegetables and began sorting them naturally, all while pressing for details. “Hurry up and tell me what fun things you saw.”

Luo Yan glanced at his hands, moving so skillfully they seemed to blur, then looked at the pitifully small pile of vegetables in her own basket. “…”

Zhu Yun patted Changsheng’s shoulder approvingly and settled back into his rattan chair to continue reading.

After instructing Luo Yan on the proper way to sort vegetables, Changsheng glanced at the book and read aloud, “Green Mountain, Medicine, something. Yun, are you thinking of becoming a physician?”

“None of your business.” But out of the corner of his eye, Zhu Yun caught sight of the lush green vegetables and changed his tone. “It’s a book about teaching people to use poison.”

Changsheng perked up at this. “So, you’re into that too? I have several books on the subject. I’ll lend them to you once I’m done.”

“?”

Zhu Yun studied him for a moment, then remarked sarcastically, “Never judge a book by its cover.”

Luo Yan, who knew the full story, nearly laughed herself breathless.

The Green Mountain Pharmacopoeia originated from the Qin family, a martial arts clan famous for their poisons. Changsheng, however, was referring to the popular martial arts novels currently in vogue.

The two were somewhat related, yet entirely unrelated.

Seeing her overjoyed expression, Zhu Yun could vaguely guess the reason. He curved his lips slightly and lowered his gaze to continue reading.

But Luo Yan suddenly fell silent, as she recalled the original novel’s setting: there were five volumes of the medicinal codex, and only the Qin family’s elders, clan leader, or heir could borrow them.

Thinking of this, she crossed her arms and looked at Zhu Yun with a faint, teasing smile. “How come the Qin family’s secret manual, which is never shared outside, ended up in your hands?”