At the height of noon, the bustling street below was alive with clamorous voices and vibrant activity. Yet amidst the crowd, he was unmistakable. Clad in a flowing white robe, he stood out starkly against the prosperous marketplace, his measured steps seemingly untouched by the surrounding tumult. Following Zhuo Qing's gaze, Lou Xiyan easily spotted Su Mufeng's tall and slender figure.
"Are you familiar with him?" Zhuo Qing whispered, eyes fixed on Su Mufeng below.
Lou Xiyan gently shook her head, her eyes lingering on the man strolling serenely through the throng. Her voice was calm as she replied, "I am acquainted with the head of the Su family, Master Su. In my youth, he once taught me the art of the guqin. Six years ago, at a grand celebration, his performance of 'Phoenix's Return to the Nest' brought him renown throughout the land, and many sought to become his disciples. Yet he never formally accepted pupils—usually offering only brief guidance, never more than ten lessons to any one family, and never twice to the same individual. It took considerable effort for me to secure his tutelage for Xiwǔ."
"So, he's taught countless students?" Zhuo Qing asked, her curiosity piqued by the fact that he only gave Xiwǔ four lessons before departing. Such extraordinary talents often harbor peculiar habits.
"In the capital, all prominent noble families extended invitations. I suspect that nearly half of the young scions and daughters of these families count themselves among his students." Lou Xiyan smiled softly at Zhuo Qing's evident fascination. "What draws your interest in him?"
Resting her chin on her hand, Zhuo Qing met Lou Xiyan's gaze with a tranquil sigh. "There's something peculiar yet captivating about him."
His serene and distant aura should have been soothing, yet it mingled with a subtle aloofness that lent him an unmistakable air of dominance—an ineffable feeling difficult to articulate. Lou Xiyan smiled knowingly; Su Mufeng was indeed a man of singular character.
The afternoon, once tinged with the restless heat of summer, was abruptly shattered by shrill screams and the frantic pounding of hooves.
"Horse startled! Clear the way!" The roar from a passing carriage grew louder. Two wild horses dragged a carriage recklessly through the market, frequently crashing into street vendors' stalls. Pedestrians scattered in every direction, stumbling over obstacles even when narrowly evading the runaway vehicle.
"Move aside!" Panic-filled shouts mingled with terrified screams as the carriage thundered onward. Directly across from the Cold Moon Pavilion stood a row of shops selling trinkets, crowded mostly with women—many of whom had no chance to escape the charging horses.
Lou Xiyan's eyes darkened. She called sharply, "Mò Bái!"
At her command, a swift figure sprang forward, leaping agilely onto the horse's back. Grasping the reins of both horses, Mò Bái pulled with all his might. Yet the frightened steeds only cried out pitifully before lunging further into the crowd. A gleam of determination flashed in Mò Bái's eyes as he delivered a heavy, precise blow to the horses' heads. With a thunderous crash, the towering beasts collapsed, and the carriage finally ground to a halt.
Zhuo Qing and Lou Xiyan exhaled in relief simultaneously and descended to inspect the scene.
Though the carriage had stopped, its reckless charge had left many injured. An elderly man of over sixty had fallen heavily to the ground at the moment the carriage halted, trembling from fright.
Su Mufeng stood not far away, his face composed despite the lingering tension. A crowd quickly gathered around the fallen elder. Su Mufeng knelt beside him, his voice low and gentle. "Sir, are you all right?"
Clutching his foot, the old man groaned, "My foot hurts terribly."
Su Mufeng's usually impassive demeanor faltered as he inspected the leg, but he made no further move.
Zhuo Qing and Lou Xiyan stepped into the throng and saw Su Mufeng frozen in concern. Lou Xiyan whispered, "Young Master Su."
Snapping back to himself, Su Mufeng rose and took a step back. "Miss Qing, Lou Xiang."
The old man's face was etched with pain. Zhuo Qing knelt beside him, speaking softly, "Please let me examine your injury."
The elder nodded, and Zhuo Qing carefully lifted his injured right leg, rolling up the pant leg to reveal a thin stream of blood trailing down to his ankle. After a meticulous examination, she reassured him quietly, "Your injury is minor, just a scrape and a slight fracture. But you must not move recklessly."
"Understood," the elder replied promptly.
"Someone, escort the injured to the nearest clinic," Lou Xiyan commanded.
The runaway carriage had caused many injuries. Strict laws forbade horses from running wild in the capital's streets; had it not been stopped in time, the toll could have been far graver.
Lou Xiyan's tone grew cold. "Mò Bái, apprehend the driver and deliver him to the authorities for a thorough investigation."
A chorus of cheers rose from the onlookers, who admired not only the renowned but humble Protectorate of Qiongyue.
Amidst the crowd, two figures—a tall man and a shorter youth—quietly slipped away into a nearby alley.
The youth paused, his crystal-clear eyes flickering with amusement. A teasing smile curved his lips. "That man is the famed Lou Xiyan?"
The tall man bowed respectfully. "Indeed."
The youth nodded slowly, his smile deepening. It seemed his father had not deceived him—Qiongyue was truly an intriguing place.
Back with Lou Xiyan and Zhuo Qing, just as they finished tending to the elder's wound, a young man's urgent voice rang out behind them: "Young Master! Young Master!"
Turning, Zhuo Qing saw Su Mufeng's pale face, sweat-drenched and breathing erratically as he collapsed to the ground, his eyes half-closed. He looked far worse than the old man.
Zhuo Qing hurried to his side, whispering, "Young Master Su, are you alright?"
But Su Mufeng said nothing. His eyes snapped shut and he fainted outright.
"Young Master Su?!" Zhuo Qing was startled, gripping his wrist to check his pulse and lifting his eyelids. His heartbeat was faint and breath shallow—he was truly unconscious.
He had appeared fine moments before, and the horses had not collided with him. Could this be a sudden illness?
Lou Xiyan approached, sighing upon seeing Su Mufeng's state. "Take him to the clinic at once."
A young servant, anxious yet certain, steadied Su Mufeng. "No need, sir. He'll recover after some rest."
Zhuo Qing asked, "Does Young Master Su have a chronic condition?"
The servant hesitated briefly before murmuring, "He faints at the sight of blood."
Fainting at the sight of blood? But there was barely any blood earlier. Lou Xiyan was taken aback, but Zhuo Qing understood—Su Mufeng suffered from blood phobia. In that case, a hospital visit was unnecessary.
She instructed the guards, "Help Young Master Su to the Cold Moon Pavilion to rest."
They carried him into a private room where he reclined on a lounge. The young servant knelt beside him, carefully wiping cold sweat from his brow. Zhuo Qing sat nearby, softly inquiring, "Has he always had this condition?"
The servant nodded with a sigh. "Yes, everyone in the Su family knows he faints at the sight of blood. Since childhood, even a glimpse causes him to collapse. Doctors have seen him, but nothing helps."
Blood phobia is a psychosomatic disorder—a type of phobia—beyond the reach of ordinary medicine. Even the small amount of blood from his foot had been enough to cause his fainting spell. Su Mufeng's affliction was severe indeed.
After some time, Su Mufeng's eyes fluttered open. His complexion remained ashen, sweat still beaded on his skin. Supported by the servant, he struggled upright.
Lou Xiyan handed the servant a cup of tea and quietly said, "Young Master Su, have some warm tea."
The servant carefully brought the cup to Su Mufeng's lips. His hand trembled slightly as he took it.
After resting a while longer, his color improved marginally. Setting down the cup, he spoke softly, "Thank you both. I'm sorry for troubling you."
Zhuo Qing shrugged and smiled. "Fainting at blood is common, Young Master Su. There's no need to be embarrassed."
It was somewhat amusing—a grown man fainting at the sight of blood—but it made his cold, aloof demeanor seem oddly more human.
Looking somewhat awkward, Su Mufeng rose uneasily. "I feel better now. I won't keep you any longer. I take my leave."
Lou Xiyan smiled and did not detain him. "Please, Young Master Su."
As he departed, Zhuo Qing and Lou Xiyan exchanged amused glances.
In the study of the Yingtian Prefecture office, Shan Yulan was perusing case files when Lü Jin entered quietly. "Sir, Lou Xiang and the lady have arrived."
Looking up at the western sun sinking low, Shan Yulan replied, "Bring them in."
He had not expected Qingling to come today, yet she arrived accompanied by Lou Xiang.
"Understood." Lü Jin returned shortly, leading Lou Xiyan and Zhuo Qing inside, followed by Cheng Hang, who had just returned from investigating a case. He seemed curious about Zhuo Qing and hurried over once he heard of her arrival.
Shan Yulan rose to greet them with a respectful bow. "Welcome, Lou Xiang, madam."
Lou Xiyan
smiled warmly. "Thank you, Prefect Shan."
The group sat, and the conversation shifted to the recent runaway carriage incident.
Shan Yulan nodded gravely. "That driver is a reckless rogue. We will bring him to justice swiftly."
Cheng Hang added, "I've sent officers to detain him. He'll answer for the injuries caused."
Lou Xiyan glanced at Zhuo Qing and whispered, "The capital is never dull."
Zhuo Qing smiled and nodded, feeling that this day, though full of chaos, had uncovered much about the people she would soon come to know better.