Chapter 17: Stolen Wind

Dawn painted the courtyard in muted colors as Xiulan faced her assembled guards. The men avoided eye contact, their shoulders hunched with collective shame. Yesterday’s discovery of the grotesque scarecrow cast a dark shadow over their newly formed unit.

The mystery of how someone infiltrated their secured residence gnawed at everyone. Not a single guard reported unusual activity. No servant witnessed anything suspicious. The calculated precision of the attack achieved its goal—sowing seeds of doubt among her people before they could properly bond.

Sweat trickled down Xiulan’s back as she led the morning exercises. Without access to her meridians, the physical strain burned through her muscles. Still, she pushed forward. Building a strong foundation now would pay dividends later.

“Hold!” Instructor Han’s sharp command cut through the morning air. He stepped forward, scanning the assembled guards with a critical eye. “You four—stay behind.” He pointed to select individuals from the group. The rest moved off to take care of their morning duties.

Xiulan accepted a cloth from Mei Chen, dabbing at her forehead. The young maid fidgeted beside her.

“Aren’t we finished, Miss?” Mei Chen glanced at the dispersing guards.

A smile tugged at Xiulan’s lips. “Now comes the interesting part—weapon training.”

“Oh...” Mei Chen’s eyes widened as Han distributed wooden practice weapons among those who remained.

“Line up!” Han barked. “Everyone—including you two.” He thrust practice spears toward Xiulan and Mei Chen.

Xiulan gripped the wooden practice spear, its weight unfamiliar yet oddly comforting. The morning sun cast long shadows across the training yard as Han positioned himself before the small group.

“The spear extends your reach, but a misplaced thrust leaves you vulnerable.” Han demonstrated the starting stance. “Right foot forward, right hand at chest level.”

Xiulan mirrored his position, adjusting her grip when Han shook his head. The wooden shaft pressed against her palm as she raised the tip to eye level. Beside her, Mei Chen struggled to maintain the proper stance, the practice weapon wavering in her grasp.

“Point between your opponent’s eyes.” Han tapped Xiulan’s spear higher. “This guards your head while maintaining threat.”

Sweat beaded on Xiulan’s forehead as she held the position. The spear was heavy—filled with lead? The muscles in her arms burned from the morning’s earlier exercises, but she refused to lower the weapon. Han walked through their small group, making minor corrections to stances and grips.

“Now, the short thrust.” Han demonstrated the motion—sharp, controlled, deadly. “No foot movement. Left hand stays at your center.”

Xiulan pushed forward with her right arm, keeping her feet planted. The spear tip shot out like a striking snake. Her left hand remained steady near her solar plexus, anchoring the movement. Ten times she repeated the motion, each thrust more precise than the last.

“Long-range thrust next.” Han extended his own spear in a fluid motion. “Left hand slides under your right arm. Full extension.”

The group practiced in unison, wooden spears cutting through the morning air. With each repetition, Xiulan focused on maintaining her eye-level tip alignment.

Next came a combination drill.

“Short thrust, retract, long thrust, retract. Five cycles.” Han punctuated each word with precise movements.

The wooden shaft grew slick with sweat as Xiulan executed the combination. Her muscles burned from the repetitive motion, but each thrust grew more controlled. Beside her, Mei Chen struggled to maintain her form, the spear wobbling with each retraction.

“Higher tip, Mei Chen.” Han tapped her spear upward. “Never expose your face.”

The four guards moved in unison through their drills, their practiced movements flowing smoother than Xiulan’s attempts. The morning sun climbed higher, and the shadows shortened.

“Angle slash.” Han shifted his stance. “Left hand at the plexus, right hand raised.”

Xiulan mimicked his position. The downward slash felt natural, at least.

“Good control.” Han nodded at her form. “Now combine the slash with a long thrust.”

She worked through the new combination. The wooden spear cut through the air in controlled arcs, each movement building on the last.

“Switch hands,” Han ordered.

The familiar movements became awkward as Xiulan reversed her grip. The spear felt unwieldy in her left hand, but she pressed on. Each repetition brought minor improvements, her body adapting to the reversed position.

Instructor Han lowered his practice spear and studied their forms with an appraising eye. “Regular practice will strengthen your foundations. The spear teaches discipline that transfers to all combat styles. That will be all for today.”

Xiulan glanced at the four guards who remained behind. “Was their presence necessary for today’s lesson?”

“Mei Chen appears drained, and I believe you are hiding your own strain, Miss.” Han adjusted his stance. “We’ll incorporate sparring sessions later, but today we focused on basics.”

“I can barely lift my arms.” Mei Chen admitted while slumping against her practice spear. Sweat darkened the collar of her training clothes.

“We should take it easy this evening.” Xiulan rolled her shoulders, feeling the burn of overworked muscles.

Han nodded in approval. “Skip tonight’s session entirely. Rest will serve you better than pushing too hard, too soon.”

“Thank you for the instruction.” Xiulan bowed to Han and the guards before turning toward the bathhouse.

Mei Chen hurried alongside her. “Your hair needs attention again, Miss. The training completely—”

“Five hundred brush strokes maximum this time.” Xiulan wiped sweat from her brow.

“But Miss!” Mei Chen’s eyes widened in horror. “That’s not nearly enough to—”

“We’re meeting Official Qin later. We can’t spend hours on my hair.”

They rounded the corner and nearly collided with Auntie Lan.

The elderly maid’s stern gaze swept over their disheveled training clothes. “This is wholly unacceptable for someone of your station.”

“We need to learn self-defense.” Xiulan squared her shoulders. “Moving freely is essential for proper training.”

Instead of the expected lecture about proper ladylike behavior, Auntie Lan’s expression softened. She smoothed her apron with practiced hands. “Acceptable outfits exist for ladies who wish to train—but these guard uniforms invite scandal and gossip.”

“Every dress I’ve worn restricts leg movement.” Xiulan tugged at her damp clothing.

Auntie Lan lifted her chin. “Clean yourselves up. We’ll visit the manor market together and select appropriate attire.”

The promise of a solution propelled Xiulan and Mei Chen toward the bathhouse. Steam rose from the heated water as they scrubbed away the morning’s exertion.

“Auntie Lan rivals your mother in fearsomeness.” Mei Chen dunked a cloth in the water.

Xiulan released a slow breath and nodded. “I almost forgot who was in charge.”

“I’m just glad Miss isn’t so strict.” Mei Chen splashed water playfully.

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Xiulan grinned. “Wisdom and common sense can be the best authorities. Suppressing them for rank would be a bad idea.”

The warm water soothed Xiulan’s aching muscles as Mei Chen worked methodically across her back. Steam curled around them, carrying the subtle scent of jasmine oil. Once she was clean, they moved to the table and Mei Chen started working with the comb.

It was nice, but she had too much excited energy to relax like the day before.

“Not too much.” Xiulan lifted a hand. “Two hundred strokes maximum, and a simple braid.”

“But Miss—”

“We have business to attend to, so not even the five hundred I promised earlier.”

Mei Chen sighed dramatically but complied, working efficiently to style Xiulan’s hair into a practical braid. The familiar motions of getting dressed followed, each layer settling into place.

Auntie Lan waited in the courtyard garden, surrounded by the morning glory vines that climbed the latticed walls. Two guards fell into formation as they set out toward the market district. The familiar storefront of the dress shop came into view, its carved wooden sign swaying gently in the breeze.

Xiulan frowned at the display window. The selection had seemed limited during her last visit—mostly formal robes and ceremonial wear. In Phoenix Kingdom Chronicles, female characters had worn practical training clothes that combined elegance with mobility. She’d never seen such garments in reality, but perhaps...

The shopkeeper rushed to greet them, promptly hanging a “Closed for Private Service” sign on the door. Before Xiulan could speak, Auntie Lan stepped forward.

“The private collection.” Auntie Lan’s tone brooked no argument. “Training wear suitable for a young lady of status.”

The shopkeeper bobbed a series of quick bows and disappeared behind a screened doorway. Moments later, assistants emerged carrying armfuls of clothing Xiulan had never seen displayed before. The fabrics ranged from sturdy cotton to lightweight silk.

But… she wasn’t sure how this would help? They were pretty enough, but they still had cloth that ran almost to the ankle. Earth-toned fabrics shimmered with delicate gold trim—beautiful, yet seemingly impractical for training.

Xiulan started to ask when, without a word, Auntie Lan grasped the skirt of the nearest dress and pulled. The fabric split cleanly, revealing fitted trousers underneath.

“Oh...” Xiulan breathed out softly. The clever design was familiar.

“Look at this!” Mei Chen darted forward, running her fingers along the hidden seams. “The way these hems split will let us move freely during practice!”

“Indeed.” Auntie Lan smoothed the panels back into place. “When standing still, they maintain proper appearance. No one need know about the trousers beneath.”

A polite smile tugged at Xiulan’s lips. The whole concept of hiding trousers seemed ridiculous. But, when in Rome …

“We’ll take all of them.” Xiulan nodded to the seamstress.

“Of course, Miss Lin. I have your measurements on file—”

“Take Mei Chen’s measurements as well.”

The seamstress froze. Auntie Lan’s eyebrows shot up. Even Mei Chen stared at Xiulan with wide eyes.

Xiulan’s gaze lingered on the seamstress. “Two dresses for Mei Chen as well,” she ordered.

Mei Chen fidgeted nervously, but she submitted to having her measurements taken. The seamstress worked quickly, wrapping the measuring tape around the Mei’s waist and shoulders. Xiulan watched with a smug smile, enjoying the grumpy expression that formed on her maid’s face.

“Miss Xiulan, I have some business to discuss with the tailor,” Auntie Lan said, her voice gentle yet firm. “You two can go on ahead.”

Xiulan and Mei Chen bowed deeply. “Thank you for your help, Auntie Lan,” Xiulan said.

Outside the shop, Mei Chen pouted, her cheeks puffed in mild frustration. “Miss Xiulan, I’m your maid, not a soldier!”

Xiulan chuckled, leading them toward the administrative building. “You’ve been doing all kinds of things lately, Mei Chen. Training the last two days should have prepared you.”

Mei Chen looked away, her voice low. “I did expect it, which makes it all the more frustrating!”

Xiulan glanced at her. “I intend to keep you by my side wherever I go.”

Mei Chen’s cheeks turned red in a full blush. “I’d like to stay with you too, Miss,” she mumbled.

Xiulan smiled warmly. The guards followed closely behind them as they walked through the bustling market street. The scent of freshly baked bread mingled with the sharp tang of herbs from nearby stalls.

They reached the administrative building and repeated the greeting ritual from the day before. A servant led them to the same private room.

Mei Chen set down the box of records with a determined look, her fingers brushing over the worn edges.

Xiulan frowned as the documents spread before her. She had pored over them the night before, hoping to uncover some hidden clue about the sandalwood revenues. But documents that would seal the connection to Madam Zhang were missing. Hopefully Bo Qin would bring them today.

“Maybe we missed something,” Xiulan muttered, her frustration simmering beneath the surface.

Mei Chen nodded. “Perhaps another look will reveal more.”

They settled into their seats, the silence punctuated only by the rustling of parchment. Xiulan traced her finger along the columns of figures, searching for patterns or discrepancies. The minutes stretched into an hour, and still, no new insights emerged.

The tea pot sat empty on the table, its contents long gone. Xiulan’s restlessness grew. She drummed her fingers on the table, her gaze flicking to the door.

A servant entered, bowing deeply. “Miss Lin, we have not yet located Official Qin. Your wait may be prolonged.”

Xiulan’s eyes narrowed. “How much longer?”

The servant hesitated. “It is uncertain, Miss Lin. We are doing our utmost to find him.”

He refilled the teapot with fresh leaves and hot water before retreating silently. Xiulan poured herself a cup, the fragrant steam rising to meet her. She took a sip, but the tea did little to soothe.

Another hour passed. The tension in the room thickened like an invisible fog. Mei Chen glanced at Xiulan, worry etched across her features.

“Miss...” Mei Chen’s voice trembled slightly.

Xiulan looked up from the records, meeting Mei Chen’s concerned gaze.

She released a long breath, the tension draining from her shoulders. “Haa... this isn’t great. Official Qin is missing?” She tapped her fingers against the polished table's surface. “What do you think are the chances he just forgot today was his day off?”

“Officials don’t get days off in the middle of the week, Miss.” Mei Chen folded her hands in her lap.

The implications settled like a cold weight in her stomach. “Pack up the documents. We’ll head back to Mother’s courtyard—I still haven’t discussed Lan Yue’s letter with her.”

Mei Chen nodded and gathered the scattered papers with practiced efficiency, sorting them into neat stacks before returning them to their box.

Before heading back, there actually was one thing she needed to do first. “Also, I need to speak with Jin Wei about organizing some equipment for tomorrow’s Treasure Pavilion delivery.” Xiulan stood, straightening her robes.

“Shall we stop at the pharmacy then, Miss?” Mei Chen secured the box under her arm.

“Yes.” Xiulan strode toward the door.

A servant hurried past in the hallway. Xiulan raised her hand to halt him. “When Official Qin is found, have him send a note. We cannot wait any longer today.”

The servant dropped into a deep bow. “Of course, Miss Lin. I will ensure your message reaches him immediately upon his return.”

Xiulan stepped into the afternoon sunlight, squinting against the glare reflecting off the administrative building’s white stone walls. Their two guards fell into formation—one ahead, one behind—as she and Mei Chen passed beneath the ornate gateway arch.

A dozen armed men materialized from the surrounding street, weapons glinting in the sun. Xiulan spun around to find more guards closing in from behind, cutting off any escape route. The circle tightened, boots scraping against cobblestones.

One man stepped foreward and Xiulan’s heart sank as she recognized his face—it was Luo Han. Madam Zhang’s spy.

“Halt!” He jabbed a finger toward Mei Chen. “That servant stands accused of stealing official documents!”

“What?” The word burst from Xiulan’s lips. Blood pounded in her ears as she processed the accusation.

Her two personal guards gripped their weapon hilts, muscles tensed. “Miss?” Their questioning tone carried equal measures of loyalty and uncertainty.

Xiulan’s teeth dug into her lower lip as she assessed their situation. The odds looked grim—fourteen against two, even if her guards proved loyal. Mei Chen clutched the document box to her chest, trembling. Terror widened her eyes as she stared at Xiulan.

Xiulan grabbed Mei Chen’s arm and lifted her chin defiantly. “This is my personal attendant. If you intend to take her, you must take me too!”

Luo Han smiled with malice. “Arrest Miss Lin Xiulan as well!”

Why couldn’t they have waited for just one more day?

Even with newly unlocked meridians, she’d be able to deal with a dozen guards. Or at least make them show respect!

The soldiers moved in and seized them.