Legend of Fu Yao Chapter 91 - Thunderstorm in February

Chapter 91: Thunderstorm in February

Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
The voice was crisp, quick and bright, no different from a drum-shaped rattle made from jade.
Four corpses laid in the room, and standing before them were four individuals who were exchanging looks.
Dumbstruck, Meng Fuyao swept her gaze across Zhan Beiye and then Ya Lanzhu, complaining, “…please, I’m trying to stay low profile. We’ll be exposed like that.”
“It’s good enough that I allow you to be here,” Zhan Beiye reprimanded. “You haven’t recovered. How can I not watch over you?”
Zong Yue added calmly, “I’m a physician, and it’s only natural for me to follow my patient.”
Ya Lanzhu swung her pigtail, emphasizing again her mission to keep the adulterous couple in check.
Meng Fuyao was speechless, her face anguished. Zong Yue had already pulled the window up and started melting the corpses to make human skin masks.
No matter the reason, none of the four was willing to leave. Ya Lanzhu had even claimed one additional victim. They arranged the skin masks according to size, and since Tang Jian was a skinny man to begin with, Meng Fuyao and Ya Lanzhu were fighting over him.
Eventually, Meng Fuyao pointed at her nose and highlighted, “I’ve been forced to take my own life. Aren’t you going to let me take revenge?”
Upon hearing her words, Zhan Beiye felt his heart twist. He dragged Ya Lanzhu to a side, leaving her with no other choice but to play the servant.
As for the skin of the other servant and the assistant official, Zhan Beiye and Zong Yue almost broke into a fight as well. “The servant has pointy brows and narrow eyes. Such strong yet elegant features.”
Zhan Beiye let out a cold laugh. “I think he looks wretched and has crafty, rat-like eyes similar to yours.”
Meng Fuyao flew into a rage, jumping onto the table and pointing. “Please, Prince Zhan, look properly. That servant is stronger and has a waist thicker than Zong Yue’s.”
Just like that, Prince Zhan ended up becoming the servant, but not without throwing gloomy glances and grumbling in the process. Ya Lanzhu leaned closer to eavesdrop, managing to make out the words, “Men with thin waists can’t stand.”
As a result, she innocently went to consult Zong Yue, “He said you can’t stand. What does it mean?”
Meng Fuyao opened her mouth wide in shock, grief evident on her face as if foreseeing a bleak future.
Upon complete transformation, the four observed one another, with Meng Fuyao as Tang Jian, Zong Yue as the assistant official, and Zhan Beiye and Ya Lanzhu as servants.
As chance had it, the previous official was appointed under Wuji court, and King De had naturally wanted to appoint his own men. Tang Jian was a distant relative of King De and an opportunist who had rushed all the way from Zhongzhou to assume the post. Within a few days, he had brought along his assistant official and two servants. Now that all four had been murdered and switched out, they wouldn’t need to worry about being detected.
No matter how chaotic the process had been, the four actors were finally ready. Meng Fuyao went on her knees, looking extremely sorrowful. Aish, she had seen how spies worked, and not once did they bring along a physician friend and a suitor of their friend…
“Send this batch of provisions from Huazhou over quickly. It must reach before night time,” Meng Fuyao shouted while standing on the platform, dressed in her official robe.
Just like that, she had been impersonating the official for a few days, and because the soldiers transporting the food weren’t familiar with him, there hadn’t been any problem. Meng Fuyao acted skillfully, waiting patiently for movements on King De’s side in order to take action.
She had placed her resignation letter on King De’s desk. Mayor Meng is discouraged and hopes to leave, and wish for King De’s understanding and for him to select another candidate to run the city.
Zhan Beiye’s Dark Wind Horses transformed into a fog, vanishing into the massive mountains in the southern border.
Extremely busy, King De had no time to entertain the resigning mayor. He had to gather his army to kill Zhangsun Wuji. While it was a pity Meng Fuyao had escaped, it was also beyond his influence.
The weather wasn’t ideal that day. It was gloomy, and rain was to be expected. The pressure was low, and Meng Fuyao, who was still in recovery and had been forced by Zhong Yue to put on thicker clothes, sweated buckets while ordering batches of food to be transported. As she was about to take a rest, she heard gallopings approaching rapidly. Looking up, she saw a soldier from Suishui camp, whipping his horse non-stop and shouting, “Quick, quick! How much food is left in Wuling storage? Place them in the carriage and send it over! The troop is setting out soon!”
Stunned, Meng Fuyao inquired, “Didn’t we just send a batch over? I haven’t heard anything about the troop setting out. To fight the Rongs, both northern and southern?”
The man answered urgently, “No, but news just broke out that the king in Wanzhou has revolted and the crown prince is in trouble. King De has sent soldiers to serve the king and has already dispatched General Yang Mi to rush over…”
The words that came after did not reach Meng Fuyao’s conscious mind.
Her surrounding quietened down to the point where even breathing became soundless. Movements seemed to have slowed down, and all she could see was his mouth opening, and closing as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. The approaching horse broke her initially still vision, and the sound of carriage bumping against the road took over her consciousness. All scenery turned to void and only two words repeated in her head.
‘In trouble, in trouble, in trouble…’
Meng Fuyao stood rooted to the ground as the key she was holding onto slipped from her stiff fingers. Just as a crisp, jarring clang was expected to be heard, someone stepped forward to lift her hand and grab the key in time. “Yes, it’s the prince’s order. Men, open the storage–––”
The last few words were drawn out, but they roused Meng Fuyao from her sluggish state. She looked up and met up Zong Yue’s gaze.
He appeared clean and calm, and even radiant, his gaze instantly calming Meng Fuyao’s chaotic heart down. It was as if a dreadful ball of flame had been soaked in deep waters, gaining temporary relief.
Someone brushed across her shoulder from behind, and another thick voice laughed. “You’re tired, Sir. Rest behind.” Next, she felt him grabbing her hand and leading her backward in steady steps. It was Zhan Beiye.
Meng Fuyao pinched his palm in gratitude and took in a breath of air. She shook her head and turned around, plastering a smile within that instant. Wiping the sweat off her face, she said, “Brother, look at the weather. It’s about to rain but not really. How uncomfortable. I’ll get men to open the storehouse now. Right, isn’t the crown prince warring against Gaoluo at the eastern shore? How did he… get into trouble?”
“I’ve not heard the details,” the young soldier shared. Unaware of the inside news and worrying about his beloved prince, he continued, “I only heard that the king of Wanzhou falsified a report to lure the crown prince over. The ravine in Huya Mountain allowed only one horse to pass through, and while he was riding through it, thousands of grams of explosives went off, blasting the cliffs into fragments, and the crown prince…”
His eyes hung down as he finished explaining, before turning around to leave in a hurry. Seeing his shadow disappear into the horizon, Meng Fuyao hoped to gradually vanish as well.
He gave the location, the figures, the route, and they all matched up, certain and clear… she had been determined not to believe his words, but now that the news was forced into her throat she couldn’t help but fear the worst. Meng Fuyao slowly clasped her palms, feeling the sweat and iciness between them.
‘No, no, no, this isn’t it… it is Zhangsun Wuji they were talking about. He shouldn’t die even if the whole world plots against him. How could he die so easily?’
‘Why not?’ Another voice within her challenged. He was rushing from miles away and must have been feeling extremely anxious. Plus, he had so few guards. Taking time into consideration, he must’ve charged all day and night in order to reach Wanzhou at this timing. Anxious, worried, lack of guards, lack of time to scout the path beforehand, explosive-filled cliff – it could very well be King De’s trump card. No matter how strong and wise, he had a body like anyone else. He wasn’t invincible.
Meng Fuyao remained motionless as the conversation in her head twisted her guts painfully into two halves, and she felt as though something within her was shattering. She lost all control her trembling hands.
A snake-like light flashed across the sky, followed by a heavy rumble. A shocking bolt of lighting struck, splitting the gloomy dark clouds and raising intense gusts of wind. Between the black and bruise-colored clouds came the cold, hard pattering of raindrops.
The drops were as big as pearls and fell in a continuous chain, painful to the touch. A heavy downpour followed next, and Meng Fuyao was left standing there, without a shelter to run toward. She thought hazily about the mandate of heaven. “A thunderstorm in February… could it be… could it be…’
Amid the downpour she stood, thoroughly wet. She raised her head, feeling the pain from the crashing rain beads. Of course, the pain was nothing to her. In fact, she only felt her body turn slightly numb.
Looking up into the sky, Meng Fuyao let the rain plaster her jet-black hair strands onto her forehead, creating multiple streams on her face.
A black-robed man rushed over from the corridor but was stopped by a man dressed in white. They exchanged glances and shared a mutual understanding at that moment. They stood under the eaves, a distance away, not wanting to disrupt Meng Fuyao’s state of mind.
A long, long time later Meng Fuyao lifted a finger and angrily pointed it at the sky.
She yelled, mouth opened wide, “F*ck. Your. Mother.”
Her growl caused the surrounding soldiers who were running about in the rain and doing their job to jump in shock. They looked toward the source, but Meng Fuyao had already turned and wiped the water off her face. She bared her teeth and laughed. “F*ck. Sky-splitting thunder in February!”
The soldiers smiled, somewhat relieved, and returned to their job. Meng Fuyao placed her hand down, not knowing what she was doing. A soft voice floated from behind her shoulder and into her ear, “It’s raining heavily…be wary of your condition…”
Meng Fuyao lowered her eyelids, allowing the person to guide her to the shelter. Ya Lanzhu received her at the door, immediately bringing her to change a set of clothes. Meng Fuyao stood sluggishly in the bathroom while the clumsy princess dried her flushed face and body before putting on a new set of outfit for her. When done, she walked over to the toilet bowl and sat down.