Chapter 4: Aunt's Ferocity
Clang—!
Before the bed, a blade's gleam poured down like a water curtain.
The narrow space of the bed offered no room for maneuver.
Ouyang Rong suddenly opened his eyes, but instead of the blade, he was met with a furious shout: "How dare you say Mingfu is fine! He's become like this... You Old Bald Donkey, prepare to die!"
He was stunned and turned his head.
He saw the dark blue "Catch Cop uniform" that had been by the bed charging towards the half-exposed, shiny "egg" peeking out from beyond the door.
"How could Prefect be in trouble? It's a misunderstanding! It's a misunderstanding!" Xiufa quickly ran away.
"Mingfu has wet the bed! He's clearly had a stroke or is in a catatonic state! Do you call this recuperation? You motherfucker!"
"Ah... this... how could this be? It's a misunderstanding, it must be a misunderstanding... Catch Cop, put down your knife, let me explain, let me explain!"
"You can explain when you're in hell. I've tolerated you for too long. Today, I will take your dog's head."
"!!!"
Listening to the two outside performing a "race against death" in the corridor, Ouyang Rong was stunned. He looked down at the stained bedding. He had just washed his hands and gotten back into bed without drying them...
However, you two are truly a pair of clowns.
Ouyang Rong was speechless.
Just as he was hesitating whether to go out and mediate the medical dispute, Xiufa's surprised voice suddenly came from outside, "Abbot, you're finally here! Quick, save me...!"
Several people appeared at the entrance of Sanhui Courtyard. The two leading them were a white-bearded old monk and a woman in a long skirt.
The young monk Xiufa scurried behind the former like a monkey.
"Put down your knife! What are you doing in the courtyard? Where is my Tanlang?" The woman in the long skirt was the first to step forward, frowning as she spoke.
The woman was quite tall, her appearance and demeanor suggesting she was over thirty. She had a mole at the corner of her mouth, and her temperament naturally carried a dignified and stern air. However, at the moment, she looked tired, as if she had traveled a long distance. The several maids and servants carrying bags and boxes behind her also looked similarly exhausted.
Yan Wuxu paid no attention to this. Still fuming, he brandished his sharp knife and charged forward, shouting.
"Female Bodhisattva, please step aside for a moment. Let this Old Bald Donkey handle it." The white-bearded old monk stepped out, calmly blocking the woman in the long skirt and also appeasing his disciple behind him.
The old monk wore black monastic robes, and his white beard was neatly groomed, giving people a first impression of wisdom and profundity, inspiring a sense of peace.
The Abbot of Donglin Temple gently twirled his prayer beads and spoke with a serious expression to the charging Catch Cop: "Namo amitabha, Young Benefactor Yan, please calm down. Let's talk things over. First, put down your butcher's knife..."
"Bullshit! He was awake two days ago, but now he's been treated into a paralyzed, incontinent state! None of you Old Bald Donkeys of Donglin Temple will escape, I'll chop you all down!" The hot-blooded Yan Wuxu, however, didn't say another word and struck down.
"If you act like this, this Old Bald Donkey cannot... Ah! This!" The Abbot's old hand, clasped in prayer with beads, trembled.
The next second, a flash of a blade, and only broken prayer beads remained on the spot.
It turned out that the Abbot and his disciple Xiufa had both cleverly dodged aside.
The sandalwood prayer beads scattered in the air, then landed at their feet, bouncing up again... For a moment, it was like large and small pearls falling onto a jade plate.
It was unexpected that this Abbot, who looked to be seventy or eighty, had quite good dodging skills, as agile as his disciple.
The old and young men both stared wide-eyed at the broken prayer beads, wiping cold sweat.
"Benefactor, you cannot kill in a sacred Buddhist place!"
"You two Old Bald Donkeys, give me your heads!"
Seeing that the reckless Catch Cop, having missed one strike, wanted to try again, the master and disciple ran off, chasing each other.
However, though the blade gleamed menacingly under the great sun, there was one person on the scene who did not retreat.
"Female Bodhisattva, run quickly! Yan Butou is in a rage..." The old monk reached out and shouted urgently.
The woman in the long skirt, however, flipped her hand, drew the bundled stick from the shoulder of a timid servant behind her, frowned, pursed her lips, and met him head-on.
The tip of the stick cut a long arc in the air.
A strike, a retraction, then a poke, and another flick.
A sharp knife flew into the air, dislodged from the tiger's mouth, which was throbbing with pain.
"Don't brandish a knife in front of me. Where is our Tanlang?" The woman in the long skirt threw the stick behind her and demanded sharply.
Yan Wuxu was stunned, looking up at the knife. Even the Abbot and his disciple, who had been scurrying away with their heads in their hands, stopped, stunned, looking at this seemingly frail woman.
Clang, clatter—
It was the sound of a weapon hitting the ground. The courtyard inside and out fell silent.
"What Tanlang? Who are you looking for?" Yan Wuxu seemed to have been splashed with cold water, calming down a bit.
The Abbot tidied his appearance and reluctantly spoke: "This is Prefect's Aunt, Zhen, who just arrived from Prefect's hometown, Nalong..."
Yan Wuxu glared at the Abbot and Xiufa, interjecting: "Mingfu was awake two days ago, but when I saw him today, he was already in a catatonic state from a stroke!"
The woman in the long skirt instantly stood dumbfounded, as if struck by lightning. The maids behind her also began to wail.
Xiufa quickly waved his hand: "It must be a misunderstanding. Incontinence in bed could be for other reasons..."
"Still trying to argue!" Yan Wuxu, empty-handed, pounced, grabbing Xiufa by the back of his neck and raising a fist as big as a sandbag to strike...
"I'm fine." Ouyang Rong, wearing only a single garment, walked out of the room.
The entire scene instantly fell silent.
The young Prefect looked at the various expressions in the courtyard, and said weakly: "This Official, I, I didn't wet myself. The water from the basin spilled... Young Catch Cop Yan was too anxious to seek medical help and misunderstood."
He had to explain this immediately, otherwise, it would become a lifelong stain. But in fact, he was more annoyed by the anti-human design of tabis and brocade boots. Why were they so hard to put on? It took him a long time to put on his shoes and go out...
He then, with an unchanging expression, instructed: "Young Catch Cop Yan, please let go of Xiufa and the Abbot first. Aunt..." He turned his head, and after some familiar memories surfaced, he immediately corrected himself: "Aunt, I hope you are well. Your nephew is fine. You made a trip for nothing again..."
Before Ouyang Rong could finish his words, a beautiful figure rushed over with a gust of wind, almost knocking him back into the room. However, someone immediately helped him steady himself—he was already in the wide embrace of the woman in the long skirt—he only needed to enjoy the warm haven provided by his family. But this Aunt... was a bit fierce.
Zhen rested her chin on her nephew's shoulder, her eyes a little red, and she panted, murmuring: "It's good that it's not a stroke and wetting the bed, it's good that it's not a stroke and wetting the bed... You are the only male heir of our Ouyang family, the only scholarly seed. If anything were to happen to you, how could I explain it to your parents and your uncle below... It's good that Tanlang is fine, it's good that he didn't wet the bed. No more fear, no more fear..."
The woman in the long skirt, who had been worried and scared the whole way, kept muttering, still appearing to be in shock.
"..." Ouyang Rong's head was full of black lines. Can we not mention the bed-wetting blunder?
However, it was understandable. In an era where carriages were slow, a stroke or a vegetative state for a scholarly seed, on whom the hopes of a humble family's rise depended, meant a torture more cruel than death, and it was also true for his family.
He whispered in her ear: "Aunt, don't say anything more, there are outsiders."
Zhen released her embrace, looked at him, and whispered:
"Are you embarrassed now? When you were little and wet the bed, I was the one who helped your mother change your cloth, and I had just married in then... But it's true, in a blink of an eye, you're already twenty and coming of age, already a Prefect of a county, and you've even been to the Divine Capital to see the Emperor, seen great figures and grand scenes that Aunt has never seen... It's time for you to find a suitable marriage."
Ouyang Rong just smiled, pretending not to hear the last sentence.
On the other side, Yan Wuxu stared at the living Prefect for a while, then quietly released Xiufa's hand, not forgetting to reach out and touch the little bald head, seemingly a bit embarrassed, "Mingfu, I, I was scared just now, it wasn't on purpose, I... I apologize to the two Masters! I spoke a bit loudly just now."
"Young Catch Cop Yan, there's no need..." The young Prefect seemed about to offer some comforting words, but the next second, he suddenly looked around with a puzzled expression: "Who is knocking on the wooden fish?"
Zhen was curious, "What knocking on the wooden fish? It's just us here. Is Tanlang still dizzy?"
The Abbot also pulled out a new string of prayer beads from somewhere, clasped his hands together, and said: "Benefactor Ouyang, why don't you go inside and rest for a while? This Old Bald Donkey can take your pulse again?"
Ouyang Rong did not respond, silently looking straight ahead. And directly in front of him, on that line, stood the young novice monk Xiufa, who was quietly trying to break free from Yan Wuxu's benevolent head-patting hand.
Seeing that everyone was looking in the direction of Ouyang Rong's gaze, Xiufa looked bewildered.
However, only Ouyang Rong himself knew that what he was staring at... was a familiar tower silhouette that lingered before his eyes.
No wonder the sound of the wooden fish was so familiar! Ouyang Rong thought to himself, realizing it belatedly.
"Tanlang... don't scare Aunt." Zhen gripped Ouyang Rong's arm, her slightly sharp yet firm yet gentle phoenix eyes cautiously watching him.
Everyone on the scene dared not breathe a word. The young Prefect, who commanded respect without anger, quickly regained his calm expression.
"I'm fine." He smiled.
From just now until now, with all these twists and turns and frights, everyone finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Zhen gave instructions and arranged for the maids to rest their feet. Ouyang Rong also gave a couple of instructions to Yan Wuxu. Everyone smiled and went inside to talk.
Ouyang Rong maintained a normal expression throughout.
Indeed, it was nothing major, nothing to worry about. He had merely seen a very familiar Gongde Tower, an old actor he was.
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(PS: A friendly reminder, this is not a system novel. Also, the first dozen chapters are a slow build-up. For brothers who want to jump straight to the mountain descent and water management, you can directly skip to chapter nineteen to start reading ~)