Defending Justice

The Young Lord in Scarlet steadied himself, a faint flush coloring his pale cheeks. Judging by his expression, he had clearly never done anything so reckless before. After a moment, he gave a self-deprecating smile.

Lingran hadn’t expected him to look like this after causing such a stir and felt too embarrassed to say more. “It’s my fault,” she said. “I shouldn’t have kept heading toward the crowds just now.”

“It’s nothing. I quite enjoyed it,” he replied, his eyes sparkling as he gazed at her.

To be able to lift the spirits of such a melancholy young lord filled Lingran with a sense of accomplishment, and her mood brightened at once. She laughed and said, “You’ve brought me so far; I have no idea where we are now. Why don’t we climb this mountain?”

The Young Lord in Scarlet looked up and said, “Most of the hills near the capital have temples or Taoist shrines on them. Judging by the banners fluttering on the mountainside, there are probably some dignitaries up there. Aren’t you afraid of causing trouble?”

“With you here, what is there to be afraid of?” Lingran mimicked his manner, clasped her hands behind her back, and started up the mountain. She thought to herself, Since Chu Liuxiang wields power over the land, the only people the Young Lord in Scarlet might have to avoid are the Prime Minister, Prince Xiang, and the Emperor himself. What other noble could make him pause?

He said, “Very well. Today is a special day. Once we reach the top, I’ll take you to have some temple fare.”

Lingran had only eaten two eggs since morning, so the mention of food instantly quickened her steps and she half-jogged up the mountain.

They climbed from the back of the hill and, halfway up, indeed spotted a grand Taoist temple.

A few pilgrims strolled outside, and around the temple were planted many red banners embroidered with tigers and dragons, their edges cut in serrated triangles.

The Young Lord glanced at them but said nothing.

Lingran, looking up, saw an arched gate at the end of the steps and, gathering her spirits, hurried forward.

A sudden loud bang froze her in her tracks and set her heart pounding. Just a few paces ahead, a child knelt on the ground, clutching the back of his neck, trying to stifle his sobs.

Nearby, a group of children clapped and shrieked with laughter.

One boy, about eight or nine, was holding something that smoked as he tossed it into the kneeling child’s collar and dashed away.

Another bang sounded, and the child on the ground leapt up in pain.

Only then did Lingran realize that the boy had thrown a firecracker into the other child’s collar. Fury surged within her, and without thinking, she strode over, seized the culprit, and shouted, “How dare you bully someone like this? You’re rotten to the core! Where are your parents?”

The boy was taken aback for a moment, then veins bulged on his young face as he shrieked, “Who do you think you are, meddling in my business?”

Such a lack of upbringing! Lingran was so angry she nearly slapped him, but remembering he was only a child, she forced herself to hold back.

The other children screamed and scattered. Some, as they ran, shouted, “Trouble! A woman’s hitting little Young Master! Trouble!”

Little Young Master? Lingran was momentarily stunned. She glanced back and saw the Young Lord in Scarlet standing quietly at the gate, eyes full of approval and not the slightest hint of anger.

Her courage instantly swelled. Hmph, what nonsense—today she would show this brat that there’s always someone stronger, and that bullies always get their comeuppance.

The bullied child ran over, clutching Lingran’s skirt in desperation. “Sister, you’d better run! My father died in battle for the Earl—they won’t kill me…”

“Won’t kill you?! Yang Tinghe, just you wait!” the little master snarled, grinding his teeth.

“We’ll see who gets whom!” Lingran shook her fist at him, ready to teach him a lesson.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to bully others…?” She had just begun when several children, dragging a middle-aged man with a three-pronged black beard, rushed out, trailed by a few servants.

Seeing reinforcements, the boy grew even more arrogant, wriggling free of Lingran’s grasp and running toward them, yelling, “Kill her! Beat that woman for me!”

The middle-aged man didn’t bother asking questions. With a wave of his hand, five or six servants charged over, faces fierce.

Lingran’s mind buzzed. She spun around and dashed toward the Young Lord in Scarlet.

She’d barely taken two steps when suddenly he leapt to her side, whisked her behind him, and shielded her.

Heh! Lingran felt triumphant—who could harm her with such a bodyguard at her side?

The servants rushed forward, fists and feet flying, but she couldn’t even see how the Young Lord moved. With a few crisp slaps, they all crashed to the ground, arms dislocated, rolling in agony and squealing like stuck pigs.

The children and the middle-aged man panicked, yelling and shouting.

A few pilgrims who had been in the courtyard now kept their distance.

The bullied child, too, had turned pale and stood bewildered, not knowing what to do.

At last, the commotion attracted a person of consequence. Lingran craned her neck and saw a well-dressed young man of about twenty-seven or twenty-eight, storming over from the inner courtyard with a servant in tow, fury written on his face. “Who dares to challenge power beneath the Emperor’s very nose?”

“In the Emperor’s own city, you dare call yourself a tyrant?” The Young Lord in Scarlet pulled Lingran out from behind him and said gently, “Don’t be afraid.”

When the little master saw the young man, he immediately ran to him, crying, “Father, these two tried to hit me! And they beat all the servants!”

The young man’s face was thunderous, but when he looked up and recognized the Young Lord in Scarlet, his jaw dropped and he was speechless for a moment.

The Young Lord said, “What, don’t you recognize me? Indeed, noblemen like Lord Zhongxiang have short memories.”

“Not at all, not at all!” the young man quickly clasped his hands in greeting, his face full of embarrassment. “My son is ignorant and must have offended you somehow. Please forgive us!”

“It’s not me he offended, necessarily.”

Lingran noticed that the bullied child, thin as a monkey, seemed to breathe a sigh of relief upon seeing his own master treat the Young Lord with such respect. This was clearly a child who knew gratitude. She quickly beckoned him over.

The boy hesitated, glancing at Lord Zhongxiang, then at Lingran, but dared not move.

The young man smiled. “Just children’s mischief, nothing serious! My younger sister is praying for the Dowager Consort at White Cloud Temple today, and I went to great lengths to invite His Highness here. Young Lord, if you don’t mind, why not join me in the front hall for a cup of wine and a meal this evening?”

Lingran was unsettled by his words. The prince he mentioned sounded much like her own master, and she grew nervous, quietly tugging at the Young Lord’s sleeve. “Does he mean Prince Xiang?”

He nodded, murmuring, “That man is Fang Yin, elder brother to Consort Fang Pin in the prince’s household—a cunning little schemer, nothing more.”

“Shouldn’t we leave, then?” she whispered, just as that infernal Prince Xiang, Chu Yu, appeared from the inner gate, accompanied by two young pages.

Lingran cursed her luck. Of all the people the Young Lord in Scarlet had to be wary of, there were only a handful, and fate had thrown her right into their path.