Those three thugs had been acting with brazen confidence — clearly with Xie Kuihai’s blessing. After all, this was the East Market, Xie’s turf; they couldn’t have been making such a spectacle without his knowledge.
The only plausible explanation was that they were trying to drum up publicity for the cultivation contest. Get the street talk going through petty goons, then paste up notices promising riches and rare artifacts — that would draw a crowd in no time.
Luo Nancheng had mentioned the matter to Lin Qiao in passing; she hadn’t thought much of it at the time. But not half a day later, a notice fluttered down on the Xie residence gate: the contest, the prizes — everything shouted from the papers. Of course it was Luo Nancheng behind it. The man worked in mysterious ways.
And naturally, they had to go.
They’d always meant to see what kind of demon Xie Kuihai really was. With a perfect excuse, the seven of them set out for the Xie mansion. No sooner had they left the inn than the market noise hit them — a cacophony of hawkers, the jam of stalls pouring into the street.
“Is there some festival today?” Lin Qiao mumbled. She’d never seen anything like this. It wasn’t just the fixed shops that lined the city — this was a market day, one of those periodic fairs when the countryside spills into town every few days, stalls arranged wherever there was space. Farmers and peddlers filled the streets, shouting for customers; even shopkeepers’ regular trade seemed to stop in the face of the bargain-hungry crowd. It was noisy, colorful, and exciting.
She stared a little wide-eyed, drinking it all in. For all the glamour of the palace, the world outside had its own irresistible charm. Zou Lurui, unexpectedly peckish for amusement, had even insisted on coming along.
They squeezed through the throng, politely declining vendors’ offers as they went. Several times Luo Nancheng wanted to suggest a different route, but every time he looked at Lin Qiao — her eyes bright, delighted like a child seeing fireworks — he swallowed the thought. A good crowd made everything easier; he could wrap an arm around her openly, and in this sea of people she’d feel no embarrassment.
A short distance away a crowd had gathered, the air around it crackling with confrontation rather than bargaining. Voices were sharp, insults flying instead of prices. People leaned in to watch.
“My flowers here! Who are you to call me names?!” an older woman cried.
“You’re fat, that’s your problem. You shove people with that bulk of yours!” a young, silk-clad gentleman sneered.
“I didn’t shove you. This road’s wide enough — you ran into me yourself!” the woman protested.
“You—your kind aren’t fit to be matched. Any girl you find through me? None could ever be worthy!” the young man went on, cruel and loud.
Lin Qiao glanced at Luo Nancheng. “Shall we see what’s happening?”
He nodded, a fond smile softening his features. The way she reverted to a childlike, mischievous self whenever she left the palace delighted him. If he’d known it would be like this, he told himself, he wouldn’t have made her go through so much trouble earlier.
They split off from the others as Luo Nancheng motioned to Mo Xiujie; they’d agreed to meet in front of the Xie gate. He took Lin Qiao’s hand and they approached the commotion.
“You’ve got a good reputation in Yangzhou, Madam Liu,” the young man spat. “Nine out of ten girls you introduce are fine, but you—look at you. All those years and you’re still single. It’s that pig of yours that keeps you that way!”
The matchmaker — Madam Liu — looked as if she’d been struck. Her usual composure fell away. “You… you…”
The young master only smirked and continued. “What do I care about your matchmaking? Young ladies line up at my residence to marry me! Look at you — even General Zhang would cross the street to avoid you with that load of meat on your bones!”
People around them murmured, more curious than sympathetic. Lin Qiao’s temper flared.
“So what if she’s fat? What does that have to do with you? Did she eat your rice? Drink your water? Sleep in your bed?” she snapped.
Silence fell. All eyes turned to Lin Qiao.
The young master’s brow knotted. Someone dared to contradict him? His expression soured; he looked ready to lash out.
Then he turned and saw Lin Qiao properly — her face was pretty in a sharp, fearless way. Whatever anger had been coiling in him evaporated into surprise. “Miss, how old are you? Where do you live?” he asked instead, as if flattering could erase the affront.
Lin Qiao clicked her tongue. “Some folks are blessed with simple minds.”
The young man scratched the back of his head. “Is that a compliment?”
“It might be,” she said. “But that doesn’t apply to dumbasses.”
Someone nearby snorted. Lin Qiao caught Zou Lurui struggling to keep from laughing outright. Mo Xiujie had followed them over and, like the rest, had been entertained by the sight of Luo Nancheng and Lin Qiao walking hand in hand.
The young man clearly didn’t understand the blunt insult. “Miss…”
“Don’t ‘miss’ me,” Luo Nancheng interjected, displeasure cutting into his voice. “Call her Madame.”
The young master, finally realizing he’d been mocked, flushed with shame and anger. He lunged to strike Lin Qiao.
His palm never reached her. A shimmering ward — an invisible barrier — flared into being at Luo Nancheng’s command and snapped the blow back. The young man was flung off balance by the backlash, skidding through the crowd before landing in a tangle of cloth and indignity.
A ripple of laughter ran through the onlookers. Lin Qiao couldn’t help grin; she’d only spoken up because she knew Luo Nancheng had her back. Without him she’d have stayed out of trouble, but with the city’s most influential protector at her shoulder, she was fearless.
She helped Madam Liu to her feet. Tears brimmed in the old woman’s eyes; she nearly knelt in gratitude. “Thank you,” she stammered. “No one’s ever stood up for me all these years…”
“Don’t be silly,” Lin Qiao said, steadying her. “Good begets good, and bad begets bad. Why would no one help you?”
Madam Liu began to sob, “That boy is Xie’s nephew — one of the worst tyrants in Yangzhou. He bullies people today and harasses women tomorrow. You’ve made trouble for yourselves protecting me—”
Lin Qiao cut her off with a laugh. “Perfect timing, then. We were headed to the Xie residence anyway. Talk about a narrow road for enemies.”