13. I’ll Get Justice for You

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After hearing the woman’s account, Cui Huai immediately recalled the woodcutter’s wrinkled, timid yet kind face.

How could the disciples of the Trace-Seeking Pavilion accuse such a man—such an honest man—without even bothering to question him?

Simply because he had neither power nor influence, and lacked the means to retaliate. If he was wronged, then so be it. If he was beaten to death, then so be it.

When Cui Huai had been young, her strength had been lacking, and she had endured no small amount of humiliation. She had sworn that if she ever reached the summit, she would never become someone like that.

Even after she became Sword Venerable Lingye, the most powerful person in the cultivation world, she still believed that one could defeat another person openly and honorably—but never bully them.

Perhaps her strength had been restricted, and the resilient heart forged through years of hardship had regressed as well. As she watched the woman’s tears, a quiet anger clogged her chest. Cui Huai had to do something.

If turning around a road sign was a crime, then they should come after her.

“This matter ultimately began because of me. I will take responsibility.”

After saying this seemingly out of nowhere, Cui Huai asked Fu Qin to escort the woman home first, so she could care for her injured husband. Cui Huai would bring a physician afterward.

For once, Fu Qin did not argue with her. He supported the staggering woman as they made their way back.

Cui Huai, meanwhile, went straight back to the sect in search of the elusive healer, Perfected Le You.

***

“You’re looking for my master? She’s in seclusion.” Her fifth junior brother, Zhu Yu, gave Cui Huai the answer.

Zhu Yu had now become Perfected Le You’s disciple, and was indeed the person in the sect most familiar with her whereabouts.

Jiang Xuan hurried over. “Junior Sister, are you injured?”

Before Cui Huai could answer, he looked her up and down. Only after letting out a sigh of relief did he say, “You don’t seem seriously hurt. Then don’t bother looking for Martial Aunt. She has social anxiety. Of the three hundred and sixty-five days in a year, she spends three hundred in seclusion. By the time you find her, you’ll either have healed yourself or already be dead.”

Perfected Le You possessed extraordinary talent as a healer. Her mastery of the Nine-Round Needling Technique was nearly supernatural. Unfortunately, she later faded into obscurity, and her cultivation advanced slowly as well. The main reason was that, as a healer, she was afraid to see patients.

All her medical experience had been accumulated through treating animals. She had agreed to accept Zhu Yu as a disciple partly because Perfected Qing Yan had relentlessly pleaded with her, and partly because Zhu Yu was exceptionally skilled at treating pigs, allowing the two of them to exchange insights.

Desperate to save the injured man, Cui Huai had no time to search every obscure corner for Perfected Le You. She simply seized Zhu Yu by the collar.

“Junior Brother, when you said you were the best physician for miles around, you weren’t boasting, were you?”

Zhu Yu patted his medicine chest. “Certainly not.”

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The moment he finished speaking, Cui Huai dragged him toward the woodcutter’s home. Zhu Yu swore he had never run so fast in his life.

Senior Sister was truly formidable!

***

Zhu Yu did possess genuine skill. After a few needles and a bowl of medicine, the feverish flush on the woodcutter’s face finally faded.

“He has two broken ribs. He’ll need to remain in bed and recuperate, and he must take the medicine I prescribed on schedule. As long as he rests properly, his life is not in danger.” Zhu Yu spoke as he wrote out the prescription.

His gaze swept over the thick calluses on the woodcutter’s hands, and he sighed. “It’s only that he’s advanced in years. He shouldn’t do any heavy labor in the future.”

The woman nodded repeatedly. Every time Zhu Yu said something, she nodded several more times, as though afraid the physician would think her neglectful.

After a while, she hesitated. “Doctor Zhu, could we owe you the consultation and medicine fees for a few days? I promise I’ll repay you. You see, several embroidered pieces in the cabinet are almost finished. Once I sell them, I’ll pay you immediately.”

Afraid Zhu Yu might think she would never be able to repay him, she opened the battered cabinet door and showed him the exquisite embroidery, so out of place in the shabby room.

Cui Huai closed the cabinet door. “You don’t need to repay anything. I’ll cover it. Just focus on recovering.”

Cui Huai had already explained to the woman that her husband had suffered through no fault of his own. It had been Cui Huai who had turned the road sign around.

Cui Huai did not consider turning a road sign around any great offense, but she sincerely apologized for the chain of consequences it had caused.

“I’m sorry. It was my fault.”

The woman waved her hands repeatedly. “It’s all right, it’s all right. The old man suffered a little, but you see, nothing happened in the end.”

Cui Huai fell silent. She understood all too well that the weak did not refrain from resenting others because they felt no resentment. They simply did not dare to resent anyone.

When such people said that everything was fine, it did not truly mean that everything was fine. It meant only that they dared not cause trouble.

***

Zhu Yu spared his senior sister’s dignity and waited until they had left the woodcutter’s home before asking, “Senior Sister, where did you get the money for the medicine? I can waive the consultation fee, but I have to charge for the medicinal ingredients. This is a small business.”

It was true: Cui Huai’s poverty had long since become common knowledge throughout the Carefree Sect. Much of that widespread knowledge was thanks to Fu Qin and his loose tongue.

As Cui Huai’s foremost creditor, Fu Qin was usually taciturn. Yet whenever he encountered Cui Huai, he became extraordinarily talkative. He warned every member of the Carefree Sect:

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Do not lend money to Cui Huai. It is like throwing meat buns to a dog—once they are gone, they never return.

Cui Huai, whose reputation for debt had spread far and wide, smiled faintly. “It’s fine. Just put it on your third senior brother’s account. He has plenty of money.”

Fu Qin’s steps came to a halt. He slowly turned his head toward Cui Huai, who had just made such a brazen declaration. Given the thickness of her skin, she could probably have passed it down as a priceless treasure among his demon clan.

“Cui Huai, you should understand that my money is my money. It has nothing to do with you.”

But Cui Huai suddenly became serious. She said only, “Senior Brother, I will repay this money.”

For the first time, Fu Qin realized that a person’s eyes could be so deep and tranquil. Almost as if bewitched, he did not argue further.

In the end, it was Zhu Yu who broke the silence. “Senior Brother, so you’re paying?”

Fu Qin agreed with an air that made it impossible to tell whether he was willing or not. “Yes.”

After reluctantly producing the money, he felt that he had lost some dignity and added, “Your senior sister said she’ll repay me later.”

Zhu Yu looked at his senior brother, then at his senior sister, and thought that all Fu Qin’s earlier complaints could not be taken seriously. He and Senior Sister were clearly like Zhou Yu and Huang Gai—

one willing to strike, the other willing to take it.

***

The following day, at first light, Cui Huai arrived at the entrance of the Trace-Seeking Pavilion with her sword in hand.

This sect was indeed far grander in scale than the Carefree Sect. Two disciples even stood guard at the entrance.

“Who goes there?”

“I am Cui Huai of the Carefree Sect. I have come to challenge the Trace-Seeking Pavilion. I respectfully request a battle.”

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