Chapter Fifteen: A Monumental Misunderstanding!

"I wonder if Eleven managed to escape," Li Yunjie muttered under his breath.

He turned his head and, without realizing when, Eleven was already standing beside him.

"Good grief!" Li Yunjie’s voice trembled so much that he blurted out a curse. For a moment, it felt as if he’d seen his great-grandmother’s ghost.

"Are you trying to scare me to death?" he exclaimed, patting his chest to steady himself.

Eleven grinned mischievously. "Young master, how do you feel?"

"How do I feel about what?"

"About the fight!" Eleven’s voice brimmed with excitement. "It’s the first time you’ve fought—how was it?"

Li Yunjie tried to recall what had just happened, but the details were already a blur. All he remembered was his adrenaline surging, his limbs taking over, and instinctively flailing about with the military boxing he’d practiced over a thousand times in his previous life. He’d even had the mortifying urge to shout out his moves’ names. And then, those two bungling thieves collapsed on the ground, foaming at the mouth.

As for the feeling, one word summed it up perfectly.

"Invigorating!"

He glanced past Eleven's shoulder. "Where are the other three?"

Eleven rolled up his sleeves, cocking his head with pride. "I cornered them."

"They actually dared to fight back!"

"Served them right—I beat them so badly, they ran off in terror!"

Li Yunjie snorted. "You fought three by yourself?"

"Three!"

"They really wet themselves?"

"They did!"

"I don’t believe you."

Eleven’s shoulders drooped as he tugged Li Yunjie toward the street. "Young master always thinks I’m boasting. Today, I’ll show you—"

The wide and spacious Ren’an Avenue lay before them, deserted. Only the bleak, chilly wind whisked up a few fallen leaves, accompanied by the distant croaking of frogs.

Without hesitation, Li Yunjie turned back toward the alley. "If you’re quick, you’re quick. It’s nothing to be ashamed of."

Eleven trudged behind, consoling himself, "It’s fine." With a long sigh, he acted as though nothing had happened—he was used to it.

"Young master, what should we do with these two?" Eleven asked, nodding at the unconscious men on the ground.

Li Yunjie squatted down, removed their masks, and smiled faintly. "Tie them up and haul them back."

...

The Prime Minister’s Residence.

Front Courtyard.

Su Qingmeng frowned, her gaze full of suspicion as she scrutinized the two men in black.

"What happened?"

Li Yunjie smirked with pride. "I surrounded them."

"They even dared to fight back!"

"I gave them such a beating they ran for their lives!"

Su Qingmeng looked to Eleven, unconvinced. "Is that true?"

Eleven rolled his eyes but nodded reluctantly.

Still doubting, Su Qingmeng bent down to examine the two men. "They’re both eighth-rank martial artists. How could you possibly defeat them?"

"For that, I must thank Miss Qingmeng for the Essence Nurturing Pill you gave me," Li Yunjie replied sincerely. "After taking it today, my cultivation broke through to the eighth rank!"

Su Qingmeng’s eyes widened in disbelief as she looked Li Yunjie up and down, grabbing his right hand to feel his meridians.

"It’s true," she murmured, her expression changing as she regarded him anew. "You even broke through two levels at once... Seems my master wasn’t lying."

Clearly, she regretted it now. No one had told her the medicine would be so effective!

"Why did these two attack you?" she asked, regaining her composure.

"I offended Wu Jin at the Courtesan House today," Li Yunjie replied without thinking. "He sent them after me."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake. Before he could backtrack, Su Qingmeng’s sword was already at his throat.

"Speak!" she demanded. "What were you doing at the Courtesan House?"

"To see the Courtesan Queen!"

Whether by accident or design, Eleven announced it loud enough for the whole residence to hear.

Li Yunjie glared at him. "Don’t make things worse!"

He sighed, gently pushing aside Su Qingmeng’s sword. "The authorities confiscated Zhou Jingzhi’s property. His sister Zhou Mengzhi was sent to the Courtesan House. I went today to buy her freedom."

Su Qingmeng looked to Eleven again. "Is that true?"

Eleven nodded.

Su Qingmeng paused for several breaths, sheathing her sword at last. Li Yunjie had already told her yesterday that Zhou Jingzhi was merely a scapegoat, and she, being someone who distinguished right from wrong, had felt regret over his death. She was not surprised by his explanation.

"Then how did you provoke Young Master Wu?"

Li Yunjie sighed. "You know how things work at the Courtesan House. To see the Courtesan Queen, you have to win the poetry contest. Wu Jin fancies himself the ‘Little Poetry Immortal of Great Qian’. I embarrassed him. Of course he’d try to get back at me."

Su Qingmeng stared at him, trying to process all this. "You mean to say, you beat Wu Jin in a poetry contest? With that ridiculous poem about chickens, ducks, and toads?"

It was hard to imagine the usually stern and dignified lady general, at this moment, bursting into laughter so loud it echoed like a goose’s honk.

Li Yunjie hadn’t foreseen the mischief his predecessor had sown would come back to haunt him in such a way. Even someone like Su Qingmeng had heard of that infamous "poem." Its notoriety was evident.

"It’s true," Eleven piped up. "I still remember the poem you wrote!"

At that moment, Eleven stepped forward. He took a deep breath, stood tall, and recited:

"Drunken, the sky is but water’s dream,
A boatful of slumber presses the galaxy."

Su Qingmeng’s laughter froze on her lips, replaced by an oddly complicated expression. "Say that again?"

Eleven repeated, "Drunken, the sky is but water’s dream,
A boatful—"

But before he could finish, Li Yunjie clamped a large hand over his mouth.

"This child’s memory is terrible," he said quickly. "He can barely read, let alone recite poetry!"

Eleven refused to concede. He rummaged in his sleeve and produced a rolled-up sheet of rice paper, which he unfurled before Su Qingmeng.

There it was: "A boatful of slumber presses the galaxy."

Su Qingmeng’s face turned red to the tips of her ears.

As a military woman, she could hardly appreciate the poem’s subtleties. All she saw were two words: "Qingmeng."

In these times, to write a woman’s name into a poem carried an unspoken meaning.

Perhaps unsure how to respond to this sudden "confession," Su Qingmeng spun on her heel and fled, so flustered she nearly tripped over a step less than a foot high.

"It’s over," Li Yunjie groaned. "This is a disaster!"

He knew Su Qingmeng had misunderstood. How could he have forgotten this detail at the time? Staring after her retreating back, he sighed three times, "That ‘Qingmeng’ refers to the dream, not you!"

"Then which ‘Qingmeng’ is it?" Eleven asked, always finding the sore spots.

Li Yunjie shot him a glare. Forget it—no use arguing with a child.

"Young master," Eleven nudged the two masked men who’d been lying on the ground for some time. "It seems... they’ve stopped breathing."

Li Yunjie frowned, pressing two fingers to their carotid arteries.

"This Wu Jin... his methods are truly vicious..."