Volume One The Southern Command Chapter One The Lady Lin Who Fell from the Sky
Shangzhou, Shangluo County.
As dusk settled and lanterns began to glow, an expansive mansion sprawled across the eastern city, its rooftops stretching in an unbroken line over a hundred acres. In a small courtyard nestled in the northwest corner, Wei Fufeng sat alone inside, reading a book.
“Spread out and seal the area!” a deep masculine voice rang out, its command carrying from afar, followed by a growing chorus of chaotic noises.
Wei Fufeng paused in surprise. He rose and walked to the door, opening it to step outside. Faintly, he heard shouts of “Catch the assassin!” His gaze drifted toward the tall outer wall on his right, beyond which lay the alley by the side gate.
He cast a glance at the wall, then turned back inside, determined not to meddle in affairs that did not concern him. As he shut the door behind him, a sudden bang sounded above. Startled, he instinctively looked up and leapt aside, narrowly avoiding a shower of dirt and dust.
Looking out again, he saw a figure drop from above into the courtyard.
With a thud, the figure landed on both feet, only to stumble and fall. An assassin? Wei Fufeng’s eyes widened in shock as he watched the figure spring up and dash toward the door. In a flash, the person entered the room.
Bang! The door slammed shut, and the newcomer fixed their gaze on Wei Fufeng.
He stared back in astonishment; the intruder was a woman clad in green.
In his surprise, the woman lunged at him, a cold gleam flickering as a short sword pressed against the left side of his neck.
“Not a sound,” she hissed in a low, icy voice.
“I won’t move,” Wei Fufeng replied hastily, fear evident in his voice.
The woman caught her breath, her bright eyes trained on her hostage.
He was a boy of sixteen or seventeen, with refined features and a hint of youthful innocence, dressed in a patched, half-worn robe.
“Are you a servant of this house?” she asked coldly.
“Better than a servant—I am a concubine’s son,” Wei Fufeng replied.
“If you behave, you’ll come to no harm,” she said, her tone still frosty.
He nodded rapidly, then ventured in a low voice, “Are you injured?”
Her eyes narrowed at him.
“You smell of blood,” he explained quickly.
She frowned. He continued, “The scent could draw the guards. If you wish to escape, you can’t leave any traces outside. Let me check, all right?”
She scrutinized him, then abruptly withdrew her sword. “Go,” she commanded.
Wei Fufeng nodded and walked to the door, stepping out to inspect the courtyard.
Sure enough, he found a few drops of blood. He hurried to the base of the wall, gathered some loose earth, and covered the stains. Just as he finished, he heard the sound of shouting and running soldiers outside the wall.
He quickly returned and whispered urgently to the woman, “Sister, please, hide on the bed.”
He closed and bolted the door, while the woman silently climbed onto the bed and lay flat.
He hurried over, bent down, and pulled the thin quilt over her, then sat at the table, picked up his book, and feigned nonchalance.
No sooner had he settled than the door was pounded violently.
“What do you want?” he called out.
“Open up!” came the gruff reply.
Wei Fufeng rose and strode to the door, his voice stern. “Who are you?”
Bang! The door burst inward. Wei Fufeng shouted in alarm, “Who are you people?”
Two armored officers stormed in, and from the direction of the bed came a woman’s terrified cry.
Wei Fufeng immediately barked, “How dare you! Are you rebelling?”
“Who are you?” one officer demanded.
“I am the grandson of the Prefect of Shangzhou! What is the meaning of this? Why do you break into my room?” Wei Fufeng said, his tone sharp and indignant.
“So it is Young Master Wei. We are searching for the assassin who attacked the Prefect, Lord Yan. Pardon the intrusion,” one officer said, saluting with a fist.
“Young Master Wei, the assassin fled into the eastern city. Our rashness is only in service of protecting the officials and the people,” the first officer explained quickly.
“If you are after the assassin, then don’t waste time—go to the inner residence and protect my grandfather,” Wei Fufeng urged with seeming concern.
The two officers bowed and withdrew, not bothering to inspect the bed.
Wei Fufeng stepped outside and saw soldiers, some armored and some in plain clothes, climbing the walls—mostly archers, bows drawn and arrows nocked, scanning the grounds with vigilance.
The entire mansion was in uproar, filled with shouts and the pounding of feet, as soldiers searched every corner.
He stood calmly at the doorway, watching the archers on the wall.
Shortly after, a well-dressed, portly middle-aged man arrived in the courtyard.
“Seventeenth Young Master, are you well?” he asked, bowing.
“I am well, Steward Fu. What is happening?” Wei Fufeng replied.
“I have heard that Lord Yan, the Prefect of Shangzhou and Commander of Yongxing Garrison, was assassinated,” the steward answered.
“Lord Yan was assassinated?” Wei Fufeng echoed in surprise.
“Yes. As long as you are safe, do not wander about,” the steward cautioned, a hint of superiority in his tone.
“I must attend school tomorrow. How long will this lockdown last?” Wei Fufeng asked, looking up at the soldiers on the wall.
“The matter is grave with the Commander being attacked. Best not to go out. Bear with it for now,” the steward replied.
“Steward Fu, look at my door. Aren’t these soldiers being rather disrespectful to the Prefect’s household?” Wei Fufeng complained.
“We must endure. The lord has ordered that the mansion be at their disposal for searching, to avoid suspicion,” the steward said.
“Are you saying the court suspects someone in the family of orchestrating the attack?” Wei Fufeng asked in surprise.
“Say no more. You will understand in time,” the steward replied, turning to leave.
Wei Fufeng watched him go, resignation in his heart. His status was too low to offend the steward. He returned to the room, closed and barred the door with a chair, then went to the bed and looked down at the woman in green.
The room was dimmer than outside; only her outline was visible.
He bent down and whispered, “Do you need your wound tended?”
“Why did you cover for me?” she asked coldly.
“Perhaps it’s fate. Besides, if I hadn’t, you might have killed me,” Wei Fufeng said calmly.
She was silent for a while before murmuring, “I will remember your kindness. I shall repay you one day.”
“If you truly wish to repay me, why not do so soon? While you recover here, you could teach me some martial skills. When you are healed, you can leave.”
“You are quite bold,” she said softly.
“I am afraid, but I can keep calm,” Wei Fufeng replied.
“My right leg was cut. I have already dressed the wound, but I cannot leave for now,” she said.
He nodded, then heard her ask, “Your name is Wei Fufeng?”
“Yes,” he answered.
“You are of the Wei clan, a great family. Are you from the Wei family of Chang’an?” she inquired.
“I am, though as a concubine’s son, my status is only a little above the servants,” Wei Fufeng replied with equanimity.
“In these troubled times, when lives are worth less than grass and the starving are everywhere, to be above a servant is already fortunate,” she said quietly.
“I am luckier than most refugees. At least I have thin porridge every day and can attend school,” Wei Fufeng replied softly.
She fell silent. After a while, he asked, “You must be older than I am. May I know your name, elder sister?”
“My surname is Lin,” she answered softly.
“Sister Lin, may I ask why you tried to assassinate the Prefect of Shangzhou?” Wei Fufeng inquired.
“Revenge. Yan the traitor rebelled and slaughtered my family,” she replied coldly.
A chill crept into Wei Fufeng’s heart, making him shudder involuntarily.
After a pause, she asked in a gentler tone, “Your name is Fufeng—is it related to Fufeng County?”
Relaxing, Wei Fufeng realized she was trying to ease the tension.
He answered warmly, “You are correct. My father once served as registrar of Fufeng County. I was born there, hence the name Wei Fufeng.”
“I have heard there is a Chancellor Wei in Chang’an,” she said.
“He is my great-uncle,” Wei Fufeng replied quietly.
“So you are a descendant of Chancellor Wei. I beg your pardon for my lack of courtesy,” she said with a note of respect.
“There is no need. In these chaotic times, even a chancellor’s future is uncertain—misfortune outweighs blessing,” Wei Fufeng replied calmly.
She looked at him in surprise. Such a remark about one’s own great-uncle was almost unthinkable, bordering on disrespect.
Wei Fufeng’s expression remained serene. “When the sword is in the wrong hands, and the court has lost control of the provinces, the military governors outside Chang’an are all eyeing the throne. The Tang dynasty is in decline. Should traitors seize power, my great-uncle will hardly escape disaster.”
She nodded. “You speak the truth. The Tang is already in its twilight.”