Chapter 15: You Even Dare Deceive Your Martial Aunt, Huh?

The alley was near Tianshui Bridge, and the noise of the scuffle inside was quite loud. When they finally turned out of the dead end, they saw the street already crowded with local onlookers. Among them were the escorts Chen Biao, Yang Chao, and others.

San Niang, dressed as a merchant’s wife in a pale blue skirt and blouse, stood at the alley’s entrance with her maid, speaking apologetically:
"Young Jing Tang is impetuous and reckless. I will make sure to discipline him properly from now on. As for Lord She’s injuries..."

"Miss Shao, no need for such formalities. We were merely carrying out an investigation, and the authorities will cover any damages. This matter has nothing to do with Young Master Ye. Please forgive the disturbance to the Shao residence."

"Not at all..."

Shao Xiangjun, still unmarried and thus referred to as Miss Shao in formal situations, though the shop assistants called her San Niang, bowed slightly.

Ye Jingtang adjusted his robes, ensuring he looked presentable before stepping out of the alley. San Niang hurried over, while the escorts chased away the idle spectators.

Though Shao Xiangjun was burning with anger inside, she held it back and approached Ye Jingtang to carefully examine his chest and arms:
"Jingtang, you’re not hurt, are you?"

Ye Jingtang wanted to say he was fine, but a sharp pain in his left arm made him pull up his sleeve. The veins on his forearm stood out, the skin flushed and aching faintly.

Shao Xiangjun glanced at it and immediately recognized it as a backlash from forcibly controlling inner energy—painful but not serious. She took his left hand and covered it with the sleeve of her robe:
"How did you get hurt like this? Those constables are really..."

The warmth and softness of her hand, the gentle touch, and the slight pressure of her elbow against a rounded softness—larger even than Luo Ning’s small melon—made Ye Jingtang suppress any improper thoughts. When he tried to pull his hand away, he couldn’t.

"This is just a scratch?"

"Not a scratch—there’s muscle and bone damage."

Shao Xiangjun pulled Ye Jingtang to the carriage and pushed him inside, her expression both stern and caring.

Inside the carriage, Ye Jingtang felt somewhat uncomfortable under such attentive care:
"San Niang, don’t worry so much. Back home, my foster father chased me with a stick every day. This little injury is nothing."

Shao Xiangjun drew the curtain and had the horses head back to the mansion. She fetched medicinal ointments and a soft pillow, placing the pillow on her knees and then resting Ye Jingtang’s arm upon it:
"What happened? When the constables questioned you, why did you draw your knife and attack them?"

"It was a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?"

Shao Xiangjun gently applied the ointment on his forearm, her eyes flashing with annoyance:
"What kind of misunderstanding makes you strike so fiercely? Your iron arm and copper skin are said to be so tough that even martial masters can’t wound you. How did you manage to hurt someone?"

"My foster father taught me a secret technique. I didn’t expect it to be this powerful."

Hearing this, Shao Xiangjun became even more upset. The last time she tested Ye Jingtang’s skills, he pretended to know nothing. Yet now, when the black-clad officers interrogated him, he revealed a peerless blade technique—wasn’t he courting death?

But she was curious why the black-clad officers hadn’t uncovered Ni Duan’s identity, so she asked:
"Is your sword technique really taught by Second Brother?"

"Yes, who else would it be?"

"What’s it called?"

"White Chop..."

Smack—

Shao Xiangjun playfully patted Ye Jingtang’s shoulder, biting her lip, eyes filled with sorrow, as if she had been betrayed:
"You even lied to your master? Do you know how much you scared me and your aunt today? We were about to ask Lord Wende for help..."

Ye Jingtang couldn’t bear that look and comforted her softly:
"It was just some casual practice. Don’t worry, San Niang. The authorities finished their investigation; there’s no problem. They even gave me a badge."

Shao Xiangjun knew Ye Jingtang didn’t want the Shao family involved in martial world affairs. After a moment’s reluctant glance, she stopped pressing and took the badge from him:
"A badge from the Prince Jing Mansion? This is no ordinary token..."

This badge was essentially an olive branch from the Prince’s mansion. If handled well, forming a strong relationship would mean close ties to the Black Office—a bureau that specialized in controlling the martial world. For someone leading the Red Flower Brothel, being described as having ‘all-seeing hands and eyes’ was no exaggeration. Even if he lacked martial skills, few martial factions would dare provoke him.

With this in mind, Shao Xiangjun returned the badge to Ye Jingtang:
"Keep this badge safe. The Prince favors you, but you must show sincerity. I’ll prepare some gifts to send to the Prince’s mansion in your name. No need for a formal visit—dropping by unannounced without cause would make you seem unaware of your own standing."

"San Niang, you just handle it as you see fit."

After pondering for a moment, Shao Xiangjun spoke softly:
"I’ll give you a few days off. Rest well and don’t worry about the shop. Once I’m prepared, come to the Shao residence. I’ll introduce you to our other businesses and help you meet a few managers from out of town."

Ye Jingtang was somewhat surprised:
"The Shao family has other businesses besides Tianshui Bridge?"

"A little."

Thinking of the Red Flower Brothel’s internal and external troubles, Shao Xiangjun felt vexed and whispered:
"With such a large family enterprise, a woman like me can’t handle it all alone. You’ve done well these past few days, so you’ll officially take over to help ease the burden."

"San Niang pays me such a high salary that I’d feel guilty being idle. Feel free to assign me whatever needs doing."

"You said that yourself. Don’t get tired and quit halfway."

"Never. I always keep my promises."

Satisfied, Shao Xiangjun gently continued to tend his arm.

Ye Jingtang’s hand rested on San Niang’s leg, though separated by the pillow, the gesture was intimate.

With her head bowed applying ointment, the pearl hairpin in her bun swayed slightly with the carriage’s movement; her soft red lips and heavy clothing were within reach.

Ye Jingtang had believed himself immune to such allure, but after arriving in the capital, his confidence waned. He averted his gaze from her lush lips and reached for the medicine:
"I’ll do it myself."

Smack—

Shao Xiangjun patted his hand:
"Rejecting your master, are you?"

"Not at all. I just worry about you getting tired. Sigh... please continue."

Ye Jingtang reluctantly withdrew his hand and sat up straight, feeling somewhat strange—as if his bones were being scraped like Guan Yu’s in that ancient tale.

After a moment, his thoughts drifted back to the Red Flower Brothel’s troubles. He glanced discreetly at San Niang—gentle, charming, and prone to coquettishness—hardly the image of a martial world ‘female leader.’

He wouldn’t dare test her skills. After a brief look, noticing her lifting her eyes to glance at him, he turned his gaze away.