Chapter 5
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A bitter northern wind swept up fine snowflakes, chilling to the bone. People passing on the street had their heads ducked, hands buried in their sleeves against the cold. But Fan Changyu strode quickly through the wind and snow, her hand gripping the handle of a black iron cleaver, veins bulging on the back of her hand.
At the entrance to the alley in the west part of town, a crowd had gathered, drawn by the shouting, the sounds of things breaking, scolding voices, and children crying.
Someone spotted Fan Changyu approaching and called out, “Changyu’s back!”
Seeing the bone cleaver in her hand, people couldn’t help but gasp.
“Is she really planning to use that against her uncle?”
“Well, can you blame her? Old Fan’s disgraceful—his younger brother and sister-in-law have barely been laid to rest, and he’s already trying to snatch the land and house from an orphaned girl just to pay off his gambling debts. Doesn’t he fear they’ll come to haunt him at night?”
“But the men from the gambling den aren’t exactly easy to scare. Even with that knife, I’m not sure Changyu alone can make them back off…”
The scene in front of the Fan residence was a disaster. Broken jars and overturned furniture were strewn from the doorway all the way inside, and a few burly men were still ransacking the place, smashing items as they tore through cupboards and shelves. Even the bedding had been thrown to the floor.
Changning was sobbing hysterically in Aunt Zhao’s arms, and the older woman, eyes red from crying, could only plead helplessly, “Stop! Stop breaking things!”
But no one paid her any heed.
Fan Da uncle was fawning and nodding beside a man who looked like a gambling den manager, clutching his hand protectively while grinning in servility. “Master Jin, as soon as we get the land deed, I’ll transfer the ownership at the yamen. Then this house is mine, and I’ll have the money to pay off my debts, I swear!”
The man called Master Jin didn’t even spare him a glance, sneering, “If you don’t find that deed today, I’ll cut off your hand myself and take it back as collateral.”
Fan Da clutched his hand even tighter, mumbling, “We’ll find it, we’ll find it…”
Suddenly, a furious shout rang out from the doorway, rattling everyone’s eardrums. “Stop—right now!”
Her voice carried with such force that everyone inside turned toward the doorway.
Fan Changyu stood there, cloaked in wind and snow, her gaze as cold and sharp as the gleaming edge of the cleaver in her hand. The doorframe, touched by the faint light of dawn, seemed to shrink under her presence.
The moment Changning saw her, she burst into tears, crying out, “Big Sister…”
Fan Da uncle glanced at her, his gaze shifting evasively as he hunched beside the gambling hall manager, keeping silent.
The manager, Master Jin, eyed the cleaver in Fan Changyu’s hand with mild amusement, unfazed. “Well, if it isn’t the eldest girl of the Fan family.”
Fan Changyu’s gaze swept over the chaos in the room, her expression taut. “Take your people and get out of my house.”
Master Jin raised an eyebrow, finding her audacity amusing. “The gambling hall runs by the rules. Your uncle here says this house is his, and we’re just here to collect the deed to cover his debts. Whatever family disputes you have aren’t our concern.”
Fan Changyu’s gaze shot toward her uncle, piercing as a knife. “This house is yours?”
Fan Da uncle avoided her gaze, trying to play on emotions. “Dear niece, your uncle is truly desperate here. I owe money to the gambling hall, and if I don’t pay it today, they’ll take my hand. Your father and mother are gone, and you and Ningning don’t have a brother to support you. When you marry, you’ll need the backing of your family so you won’t be mistreated by your husband’s family. Help your uncle this once—hand over the deed to cover my debt, and I’ll treat you and Ningning as my own daughters. Your cousin will be like a real brother to you, and you’ll have support from your family when you marry…”
Fan Changyu wasn’t buying any of his nonsense. She scoffed coldly. “If you need a house to pay your gambling debt, use your own! Taking my family’s house as collateral—what kind of twisted logic is that? Your gambling-addict son is no better than you, and I’d be lucky if he keeps all his fingers. You think I’d rely on him for support?”
Fan Da, now thoroughly humiliated, pointed at Fan Changyu and snapped, “You really have such a venomous heart, cursing your own cousin like that? Your cousin still needs to get married. Without the house, how is he supposed to afford a wife? You and Ningning are just a couple of girls, destined to be married off one day—what use do you have for this house?”
Fan Changyu, angered to the point of laughter, retorted, “What my parents left for Ningning and me is none of your business.”
Seeing she was determined not to hand over the deed, her uncle dropped the pretense of family and let his true colors show. “Your father didn’t leave behind a son. When he died, his land and house legally fall to me—even if we went to the authorities, it’s my right. Why should a girl who’ll marry out someday fight over it? You want to take it to your future husband’s family?”
He sneered, “Or could it be that after cursing your parents to death, getting rejected by the Song family, and being branded a jinx, you know no decent family will take you? So now you’re holding onto this property as your own dowry? That sickly little sister of yours probably doesn’t have much time left either, right? What man would be fool enough to marry a jinx like you?”
No one saw how Fan Changyu moved, but when they looked again, her butcher’s knife had already flown through the air, its blade slicing past her uncle’s ear before embedding itself deeply in the wall behind him. A few cut strands of his hair drifted to the floor.
Her uncle’s face turned ghostly pale, his legs trembling like leaves in the wind. He opened his mouth but couldn’t make a sound.
Master Jin, the gambling hall manager, and his thugs had initially been watching the scene as if it were a show, but upon witnessing this, they realized the woman before them was no one to take lightly. They straightened up, expressions more cautious.
Fan Changyu’s gaze locked onto her uncle, cold and unwavering. “Everything my parents left is for Ningning’s medicine and treatments. You’d best take your gambling hall lackeys and get out of here right now, or…if the gambling hall wants only one of your hands, I’ll make sure you’re in pieces when I go down to meet my parents!”
“You…!” Her uncle shuddered violently, unable to meet her piercing gaze any longer. Stammering, he muttered, “Then… then let’s take this to the authorities. Let them decide if the estate goes to you or me!”
Her uncle forced a smile, hunching over as he turned to the gambling hall manager, who was sitting comfortably in a chair. “Master Jin, could you…perhaps extend me a couple more days?”
Master Jin sneered, “The Hui Xian gambling hall doesn’t make exceptions on collecting debts. If word got out, people might think we can’t collect what’s owed.”
He shot her uncle a cold glance. “Or do you plan to offer up your right hand instead?”
Cold sweat broke out on her uncle’s forehead, and he stammered, “No, no, of course not. But this girl…”
He glanced at Fan Changyu, still visibly unnerved by her presence.
Master Jin let out a derisive laugh. “Once it’s confirmed the deed is yours, my men can get right to work.”
Of course, to Master Jin, having a valuable house deed was far more appealing than her uncle’s hand. He signaled to his men, “What are you waiting for? Keep looking for the deed!”
The thugs resumed tearing through cupboards and smashing things.
Fan Changyu clenched her teeth, her fists tightening until her knuckles cracked.
Master Jin smiled at her. “Don’t take it personally, Miss Fan. Rules are rules in this line of business.”
Aunt Zhao, watching the chaos unfold, felt her heart burning with anxiety. Suddenly struck by an idea, she hurried out of the house.
She didn’t go far but pushed her way through the crowd of onlookers at the door and began banging on the Song family’s gate. “Song Yan! Fan Da brought men from the gambling hall to snatch Changyu’s land deed! You’re an educated man—Fan and his wife treated you well. At the very least, come out and speak for Changyu! You’re a scholar, and the gambling hall might still show you some respect!”
The entire neighborhood knew trouble had come to the Fan family, yet the Song family’s doors remained tightly shut. No matter how loudly Aunt Zhao pounded on the door, not a single sound came from within.
As her knocking grew frantic, Aunt Zhao couldn’t hold back her tears and began shouting, “Song Yan, did all those years of studying turn you into a coward? When your father passed away, you were so poor you couldn’t even afford a coffin—do you remember who bought him one and laid him to rest? Aren’t you afraid he’s lying in his grave cursing you, crushed by that coffin?”
Aunt Zhao’s sharp, sorrowful voice echoed down the entire alleyway, her words loud enough for everyone to hear.
On the other side of the wall, within the Song household, Song’s mother trembled with rage. “That foul-mouthed shrew! You’ve already broken off the engagement with that Fan girl—her family’s mess has nothing to do with us! I ought to go out there and give that woman a piece of my mind!”
Finally, the young man at his desk, who had been silently reading, spoke up, “Mother.”
Song’s mother hesitated, then sighed and held back. “Fine, fine. That witch just wants to drag our family down with hers. If I go out there, I’d only be playing into her hands! Yan, you shouldn’t go out, either. You’re set on earning a title; you don’t need to get entangled with those people again.”
Meanwhile, from the loft of the Zhao family home, Xie Zheng could also hear the commotion next door and Aunt Zhao’s desperate cries. The gambling hall men clearly outnumbered them, and that young woman was on her own, with the elderly couple unable to do much to help.
Outside, the overcast sky had finally cleared in the afternoon, casting pale, chilly sunlight over the frost gathered along the eaves, which shimmered faintly with a cold golden hue. Xie Zheng’s face, like the sunlight, held no warmth. His mouth was pressed into a hard line, and his mood seemed dark and foul.
Those pests are really grating on my ears.
With hands pale and scabbed from recent wounds, he gripped the crutches Carpenter Zhao had just made for him, struggling to get out of bed. His injuries hadn’t healed yet, and the sudden movement reopened some of the bandaged wounds, causing fresh blood to seep through. He paid it no mind, though, and planted the crutches firmly on the floor, taking each step steadily.
He knew that if he didn’t deal with those troublemakers next door, he wouldn’t be able to rest for his afternoon nap.
Meanwhile, the Fan household had been turned upside down by the gambling hall thugs, who even used sticks to tap on the floor tiles, searching for hidden compartments. Changning cowered behind Fan Changyu, crying hoarsely, while Changyu shielded her little sister with one arm. Her face was lowered, hiding her expression from view.
One of the thugs was rifling through the table where Fan Changyu’s parents’ memorial tablets were placed. He knocked the tablets over, and just as he raised his foot to stomp on them to see if there might be a hidden compartment beneath, he felt a grip on his collar. In the next instant, a powerful force flung him across the room. He landed hard by the door, his head smacking against the threshold, leaving him momentarily dazed.
Everyone else in the room froze in shock.
Fan Changyu now stood in the spot where the thug had just been, her gaze fixed on her parents’ tablets lying on the floor. A cold draft swept through, lifting the loose strands of hair at her temples, while drops of blood trickled from her hand—her nails had dug into her palm so deeply that she’d drawn blood.
“I’ll give you all one last chance,” she said quietly, her voice surprisingly calm yet chilling. “Will you leave, or not?”
Her tone was calm, but it sent a shiver down their spines.
The gambling hall thugs exchanged uneasy glances, while her uncle, still shaken from her earlier knife throw, began to inch his way toward the door, trying to slip out unnoticed.
Master Jin, who had been collecting debts for years, had never been defied in this way. With so many people watching outside, if he failed to collect the debt today, it would be a disgrace for the entire gambling hall. He stood up and kicked one of his thugs. “What are you doing, lying there like you’re dead? Keep smashing! I’ve been collecting debts in Lin’an for years—I’m not about to be scared off by a little girl!”
The thugs tried to reassure themselves with his words, but glancing at their companion still lying dazed by the door, they couldn’t help but feel a chill of fear. This girl had an unnatural strength—something about her seemed almost cursed.
With a shared look of determination, the men charged forward as one. Fan Changyu didn’t even look up. Instead, she nudged the fallen thug’s wooden club with her foot, catching it in her hand, and swung it in a wide arc. The first few thugs took the blow to their stomachs, doubling over as they fell back, some even coughing up bits of food from the impact.
She gave them no time to recover, wielding the staff with a fierce, fluid precision. Sweeping, thrusting, chopping, striking—it looked less like she was using a staff and more like she was handling a long-handled saber without a blade.
The thugs from the gambling hall were thrown out of the Fan family home one by one, wailing and crying as they hit the ground like broken sandbags. The onlookers gasped in awe at the sight.
Fan Da, watching Fan Changyu wield her makeshift saber, turned as pale as a ghost and shrank into a corner, trembling like a quail.
Sensing the tide had turned, Master Jin tried to make a run for it. But before he reached the gate, a black iron cleaver flew past him, embedding itself in the doorframe just inches from his nose. He swallowed hard. “Miss Fan, this…this is all a misunderstanding…”
A commotion rose from the crowd. “The constables are here! Make way!”
The usual troublemakers actually breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing that the authorities had arrived. Carpenter Zhao, sweating and out of breath, rushed over with the constables. “Broad daylight, and you’re bullying an orphaned girl! Do you even respect the…”
He stopped short, staring at the thugs lying scattered outside the Fan family gate, and at Master Jin, who was pinned in place by a cleaver lodged in the doorframe. The words “rule of law” died on Carpenter Zhao’s lips.
Xie Zheng, who had just maneuvered down the stairs from the Zhao family’s loft on his crutches, caught sight of the scene and looked mildly surprised. He’d already sensed that the woman’s steady breathing hinted at training, but he hadn’t expected her to truly possess such skill.
Everyone else was caught up in the spectacle, so no one noticed Xie Zheng. Seeing that the trouble had been dealt with, he glanced at the blood staining his clothes from his reopened wound, his face expressionless as he turned to head back. Cold sweat dotted his forehead.
Meanwhile, a young scholar in a blue robe emerged from the Song family’s recently opened gate. Spotting the constables and casting a quick glance toward the Fan family, he hesitated, his expression unreadable, before slipping back inside and closing the door.
Inside the Fan home, Fan Changyu’s fury had cooled, her menacing aura fading. She knelt in silence and gently picked up her parents’ fallen memorial tablets. Blood from her hand had smeared onto the tablet, so she wiped it away with her sleeve.
The long-handled saber technique was something her father had taught her, but he had forbidden her from ever using it in front of others. He had told her that it should only be used as a last resort, when her life was in grave danger—otherwise, it could bring trouble.
Today, she’d broken that rule, but not out of self-preservation. She’d done it to protect her parents’ tablets.
Holding the tablets close, Fan Changyu shut her tear-stained eyes. Father, forgive me.
With the constables now involved, the situation was brought under control in a far more orderly fashion.
Fan Changyu had injured quite a few of the gambling hall thugs, but since they’d broken into her home and caused damage first, the constables scolded the troublemakers and ordered Master Jin to compensate her for the damages. They didn’t require Fan Changyu to cover any medical expenses for the thugs.
Fan Da loudly argued that by law, the Fan family’s property should be his. The constable gave him a sharp look and said, “Each matter has its place. If you want to claim the house, submit a formal petition to the county office and let the magistrate decide.”
Her uncle instantly fell silent, not daring to push further.
The gambling hall men, battered and bruised, supported each other as they left the Fan household, and her uncle slunk away, humiliated. Only then did the crowd gradually disperse.
Fan Changyu turned to the lead constable and said, “Thank you, Uncle Wang.”
Captain Wang was an old acquaintance of her late father’s. Carpenter Zhao had run a long way to bring him here, hoping he would lend her a hand.
Captain Wang replied, “They were clearly in the wrong today, so I upheld the law impartially. But if Fan Da really submits a formal claim to the county office, I’m afraid you won’t be able to keep this house.”
Fan Da hadn’t taken the matter to the county office yet partly because legal proceedings were troublesome and partly because hiring a lawyer would be costly. However, now that he knew he couldn’t intimidate Fan Changyu directly, he might very well decide to go to the county office to claim the house deed to pay off his gambling debts.
Fan Changyu’s face showed deep exhaustion and hopelessness. “I’ve tried every way I could think of,” she said. “I even asked people to consult with a lawyer. They all said there’s no way I can inherit and transfer ownership of the property my parents left.”
Lawyers were experts in drafting petitions and navigating legal disputes, well-versed in the laws of the current dynasty.
Captain Wang, with years of experience in law enforcement and a broad knowledge of such matters, fell silent for a moment before finally saying, “There may still be one way.”