Bu Shih-jen = Not Human

The servants in the front yard hid under the eaves, looking like clay idols.

The faint rustling sound of brocade being torn, along with two sobs, came from the upstairs room, which they mistook for birdsong and let go.

As servants, we all know what kind of person our young master is. But since they've been given a strict order not to go upstairs, no one wants to make a fool of themselves.

But the sound of the wine jar breaking was too loud.

The ringleader clutched his handkerchief, recalling the gossip circulating in the capital the other day—that a certain lord had suffered a stroke while engaging in sexual activity—and cold sweat broke out on his back.

The group exchanged glances, and finally mustered their courage to tiptoe upstairs.

Then they saw Yang Shen lying in a pool of blood, his life hanging in the balance.

After patrolling, he saw that the backyard window was open, so he leaned down and looked down, and immediately saw Jia Yun still standing there.

"Over there!"

"Grab him quickly!"

As they were talking, several burly men rushed in from both sides, wielding sticks. Jia Yun's heart sank and she cried out that she was doomed. How could her frail fourteen-year-old body possibly fight back?

Just as Jia Yun was preparing to fight to the death, a whooshing sound suddenly rang out from above.

"Whoosh whoosh-"

Nearly ten pebbles shot down from the sky like meteors, hitting the knees and wrists of the servants with pinpoint accuracy.

Amid screams, clubs fell to the ground, cries of agony filled the air, and people clutched their legs and wrists, collapsing to the ground and wailing. The scene was like a withered lotus leaf swept away by the wind, utterly tragic.

immortal?monster?

Which hero secretly came to our aid?

Before Jia Yun could think it through, he noticed that the other servants had not yet arrived. So, he took advantage of the chaos to climb over the wall and then stumbled into a dead-end alley. Only then did he have the chance to discard Su Juan and put his clothes back on.

Just as Jia Yun was still in shock, wondering who that person was, she suddenly heard a clear, melodious voice from above: "Truly a remarkable person."

Jia Yun was startled by the voice, looked around blankly but saw no one: "Who are you?"

A soft laugh rang out, and a figure, like an autumn leaf, gracefully descended from the eaves and landed lightly in front of Jia Yun.

The newcomer appeared to be around seventeen or eighteen years old, with sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, a tall and upright figure, and an air of unrestrained chivalry about him.

"I am Feng Ziying from the Divine Martial General's Mansion."

Upon hearing this, Jia Yun was startled.

How could he not know Feng Ziying's name? He was a renowned young master from a prestigious family, known for his chivalry, and also on good terms with the Jia family.

"My name is Jia Yun."

Seeing his expression, Feng Ziying knew that the other party must know her. She smiled slightly and then glanced at the direction where the group of servants had fallen. Her tone was somewhat disdainful.

"That Yang Shen is a good-for-nothing who deserves to be taught a lesson. He usually bullies men and women by relying on his father's power. I've been wanting to find a reason to teach him a lesson for a long time. Seeing that you acted so decisively today has relieved me of a worry."

Jia Yun quickly cupped his hands and said, "So it's Young Master Feng. Thank you for your help! But about today's matter..."

Feng Ziying waved his hand to interrupt, his expression knowing: "No need to say more, I know what's important. You should leave quickly, I'll handle the rest."

Jia Yun dared not delay. He straightened his clothes, mingled with the crowd in the market, and hurried towards the west of the city.

But even after he jogged back to the shabby little courtyard under the west corridor of the Rongguo Mansion, Jia Yun's heart was not completely at ease.

He knew that this trouble was quite serious. The young master had a powerful background. Yang Shen's father, Yang Huan, was the Chief Justice of the Eastern Court. Although he was not a powerful minister, he was one of the lackeys of the Ninth Prince.

The Donglin Party referred to him as one of the "Ten Dogs".

Although he had impulsively covered his face and put on his clothes, many people had seen him going to Zuixianlou with Xue Pan, Jia Qiang and others during the day. If the other party followed the clues, they might find him.

The most urgent task is to find a reliable alibi or a powerful patron as soon as possible.

But looking around this vast Jia mansion, he had already experienced the full spectrum of human nature, both warm and cold.

Who would risk offending the powerful Imperial Guards and the Ninth Prince for the sake of a mere distant relative like themselves?

Jia Yun touched the few dozen copper coins he had left in his pocket, his brows furrowed, when he remembered something.

In the original novel, Jia Yun secured a job as the supervisor of planting flowers and trees in the Grand View Garden by purchasing borneol, musk, and other items on credit to pay respects to Wang Xifeng, the second mistress of the family. From then on, he gained a foothold in the household.

This at least proves that the shrewd Mrs. Lian didn't have a bad impression of him.

These spices might still be a stepping stone for him now. But the purpose is different. He doesn't just want a job; he wants to earn some money for a rainy day, and at the same time, he can test Sister Feng's attitude to see if she is willing to protect him a little in a critical moment.

Alas, even a skilled cook cannot cook without rice. These mere few dozen copper coins cannot even buy half an ounce of decent borneol.

In my memory, Jia Yun in the original novel went to borrow money from her maternal uncle, Bu Shiren, but suffered humiliation and returned empty-handed.

At this moment, Jia Yun, who was desperate, couldn't help but have a sliver of hope: after all, times had changed, and he was now studying diligently, which, in the eyes of outsiders, was at least on the "right path." Perhaps his uncle would give him a break out of consideration for their kinship and this "future."

At this thought, a faint hope arose. Jia Yun changed his clothes and hurried out. Although his clothes had been starched until they were faded, they were ironed so neatly that there wasn't a single wrinkle.

With nimble steps, Jia Yun arrived at his uncle Bu Shiren's spice shop.

The shop wasn't large, but it was spotless. The shelves on the blue brick floor were all polished to a shine, and it was exceptionally tidy.

"Uncle, are you well?" Jia Yun greeted Bu Shiren respectfully.

At that moment, Bu Shiren was fiddling with an abacus. He casually glanced at him and said indifferently, "Oh, what brings you here, Second Master Yun? Are you short of money again?"

His tone was indifferent, as if he were talking to a complete stranger.

Jia Yun was indignant, but he suppressed his displeasure and said with a smile, "Uncle is too kind. I came today to discuss a business deal with you. Camphor and musk are in short supply on the market right now, and I'd like to borrow some money from you on credit to buy some goods to resell, and share the profits with you, Uncle."

Bu Shiren scoffed, clicking away on the abacus with a crisp, grating sound: "Yun-ge'er, it's not that your uncle is criticizing you. You're a scholar, you should be studying your classics properly, why are you trying to do business? Besides, do you think I don't know the state of your household? If you borrow money, how will you pay it back? With your life? It's worthless."

These words were harsh and cutting, hardly sounding like they came from a maternal uncle. But Jia Yun dared not reveal the real reason.

Jia Yun hurriedly said, "Uncle, don't worry, this is indeed an excellent opportunity. The profits from reselling spices will double..."

"Double the profit?" Bu Shiren interrupted him, his triangular eyes glancing sideways at Jia Yun, his face full of disbelief and cold laughter. "If there were such a good deal, everyone else would have gone long ago. Would it be your turn? Or are you out there with gambling debts, making up this lie to fool me?"

Jia Yun's face turned pale with anger, but he still suppressed his rage: "If Uncle doesn't believe me, I can write it down. If I make money, I'll pay back the principal first, and then we'll split the remaining profits. If I lose money, I'll do hard labor to pay it back."

Bu Shiren's wife, swaying slightly, emerged from the back room and, hearing this, glared at him with her triangular eyes and interjected, "Yun-ge'er, it's not that your aunt is criticizing you. Your uncle's shop is a small business; he only earns a few cents a day. You just ask to borrow money. What if it loses money? How will our whole family survive?"

As she spoke, she wiped the dust-free counter with a handkerchief, her manner quite affected, as if she were showing off how thrifty and hardworking she was.

"Aunt, I only need fifteen taels of capital..." Jia Yun said urgently.

"Fifteen taels? Did you kill someone?" Bu Shiren suddenly stood up, pointing outside the door. "Go ask around the streets, who would easily lend someone fifteen taels of silver? Even your father wouldn't dare ask for that!"

These words were extremely harsh, striking right at Jia Yun's heart. The implication was clear: Now that you've lost your father, how dare you ask for such an exorbitant amount?

Even though Jia Yun had lived two lives, his heart was still breaking upon hearing these words, yet he still made a final effort.

After all, if he were really caught by that young master, he would probably not escape death: "Uncle, I am now studying hard. If I achieve success in the future, I will never forget your kindness. Please grant me your grace..."

Bu Shih-ren seemed to be used to such clichés, but he turned and walked towards the back room, coldly uttering a single sentence.

"Stop talking! Instead of wasting your time, go back and study. I have business to do; I don't have time for this idle chatter!"