Chapter Forty-Seven: Trouble Comes from the Tongue…

In a shop primarily selling rouge and powder.

A middle-aged woman, still retaining traces of her former beauty, forced a pained smile and pleaded, "Young Master Zhang, Ruyi has already redeemed her freedom. I beg you, please let her go."

"Redeemed her freedom?"

Zhang Ye leaned in to breathe deeply of the woman's shoulder in his arms, face full of satisfaction and a hint of lechery. "All the better, I like respectable women even more."

"Young Master Zhang..."

The middle-aged woman tried to intercede, but was struck across the face, crying out as she fell to the floor, clutching her cheek.

"Who told you to speak?"

One of Zhang Ye's lackeys withdrew his hand, sneering. "What, you think that just because a singer redeemed herself, she can play the chaste maiden?"

"Exactly, being favored by Young Master Zhang is your good fortune."

"Don't be ungrateful..."

The others chimed in, all eager to follow Zhang Ye's lead.

With a wave, Zhang Ye kissed the cheek of the woman in his arms and said, "Go, change into a bright red wedding dress—the kind brides wear. Make yourself as beautiful as possible. Serve me well, and there will be a reward for you."

The woman, eyes brimming with tears, cast a sorrowful glance at her fallen madam. She dared not disobey and slipped away, weeping, into the inner rooms.

"Young Master Zhang, another new fancy today?"

"Ay, where's your brain?"

One of the lackeys mocked the others, then looked at Zhang Ye in admiration. "Young Master Zhang just wants to play the groom today."

Laughter erupted among them.

Zhang Ye merely raised an eyebrow and smiled, not denying it.

Just a few days ago, Zhang Ye’s elder brother, the heir of the Zhang family, was married. As a younger brother, he had attended, of course. Perhaps it was the wine, but as his brother and new sister-in-law bowed during the ceremony, he found himself entranced by her phoenix coronet, her scarlet bridal gown—the sight made his heart skip a beat.

Fortunately, desire did not overpower him; he remembered she was his sister-in-law. He dared not act on his impulses.

Yet since then, that vision of red lingered in his mind, clawing at him day and night. Unable to shake it, he came here, seeking a substitute.

"Young Master Zhang, I hadn't expected you to have such tastes," one of the lackeys sidled up to him, grinning. "If you want to play the groom, how can a sham bride truly satisfy?"

"Hmm?"

Surprised, Zhang Ye raised his brows. "What do you mean?"

"Don't be angry, Young Master." The lackey’s smile turned lecherous. "I’ve heard of a family in the southern part of the city hosting a 'dressing feast' today. Tomorrow is their wedding day. The bride is quite the beauty—they call her the 'Tofu Beauty' in the neighborhood."

"Oh?" Zhang Ye’s eyes shone, and he asked, "How do you know all this?"

"My family lives in the south too. I saw people carrying wedding things this morning and asked around."

Seeing Zhang Ye’s interest, the lackey pressed on, "The bride’s family makes tofu for a living. Lowly birth, yes, but for the neighbors to call her the 'Tofu Beauty,' her looks must be remarkable."

"Now that is interesting." Zhang Ye pictured again the scene of his brother’s wedding, his mind whirling. "So tomorrow is the 'Tofu Beauty’s' wedding?"

"Tomorrow, indeed."

"Excellent." Zhang Ye and the lackey exchanged knowing smiles. "Prepare a gift. Tomorrow, we’ll all go for a cup of wedding wine and bask in the bride’s good fortune!"

Laughter broke out again.

Xu Boqing had had no intention of meddling, but with his senses heightened by the power of his Dharma Eye, he overheard their conversation by chance.

When he heard them mention a 'dressing feast' in the southern city, he paused, considering whether it was simply a coincidence of dates. But when the term 'Tofu Beauty' was mentioned, he was certain.

His second uncle’s letter yesterday had mentioned that the bride was the beautiful daughter of the neighborhood tofu-seller.

"These vile dogs want to cause trouble at my cousin’s wedding?"

His eyes narrowed, and he slipped unobtrusively into a side alley.

Seeing no one around, his body emitted a series of crisp, shifting bone sounds. The muscles of his face writhed, and even several locks of hair turned white.

In the blink of an eye, he had transformed into a burly, middle-aged man, temples bulging, hands callused, bearing a shadowy, ominous face—a man who looked every bit the seasoned fighter.

Xu Boqing smiled coldly and, his eyes now glinting, turned out of the alley and headed straight for the rouge shop where Zhang Ye was holding court…

Inside, Zhang Ye sat with one leg crossed over the other, chatting and laughing with his cronies. When the woman called Ruyi emerged in a scarlet bridal gown, Zhang Ye’s eyes lit up.

A flame flared instantly in his heart—if a false bride could be so alluring, what pleasures could the real one offer?

He rose, ready to lead this 'bride' into the room.

At that moment, a burly man strode into the shop. Zhang Ye’s lackeys scowled and stepped forward, ready to strike, snarling, "Are you blind? Can’t you see this is—"

Before he could finish, he let out a shriek as he flew backward, crashing through several interior walls before coming to a stop, his fate uncertain.

Everyone in the shop was dumbstruck; none had expected someone to be so bold as to commit violence right under the emperor’s nose.

Seeing the newcomer’s cold gaze fixed on him, Zhang Ye felt as though a wild beast had set its eyes on him—cold sweat instantly soaked his back. Still, he forced a harsh shout: "Who… who are you!"

His remaining lackeys came to their senses, drawing their weapons protectively.

"Who am I?" Xu Boqing’s voice was hoarse as he looked at the lackeys and snorted. "You are Zhang Ye, second son of Zhang Song?"

"So you know my name—"

Before Zhang Ye could finish, a box of rouge came hurtling toward his face. He dodged too late; blood spurted from his nose and mouth, and two of his front teeth flew out.

His lackeys blanched. All of them had some skill in arms, but they hadn’t even seen the box move, let alone block it.

This man was a master!

Zhang Ye howled, clutching his face, blood streaming between his fingers, his features twisted in agony. "Kill him! Kill him for me!"

Though his lackeys hesitated, they dared not disobey. Brandishing swords and sabers, they charged.

One man swung a heavy broadsword at Xu Boqing, who did not even bother to move. With two fingers, he caught the falling blade in midair.

The lackey’s face was frozen in disbelief. With a flick of Xu Boqing’s wrist, a surge of inner force shattered the sword into shards.

Those silvery fragments shot forward like flying daggers, whistling through the air.

The foremost lackey was riddled with the fragments, collapsing in a heap. The others fared little better—one fell with his forehead pierced, another’s neck was slashed, blood spraying the rafters.

Zhang Ye, who had just been shouting for blood, now watched as all his men fell in the space of two breaths. The savagery in his face was instantly replaced by terror…