358: Surveillance

At this moment, in Qingshan Town.

It was past the hour of Chen (7-9 AM). The sun had already climbed over the top of the old locust tree at the eastern edge of Qingshan Town, casting a warm yellow glow on the bluestone-paved road.

The side door on the western side of the Wang Manor suddenly creaked open with a drawn-out 'squeak—'.

Four servants carried out two empty wine jars, each half a person's height. Un-dried wine stains still clung to the coarse ceramic walls, and a pungent, intense alcohol smell permeated the air, mixing with the morning dew, making one's nostrils uncomfortable.

'Another trip to return these empty jars to the winery in the west of the town. The master drank until the early hours last night. I heard he woke up before dawn and, still groggy, demanded two more jars!'

The servant walking at the front hunched his shoulders, his tone full of impatient complaint.

His voice was kept extremely low, as if afraid of being heard by those inside the manor, yet this faint sound was captured with perfect clarity by Situ Jun, who was seated by the window on the second floor of the inn diagonally opposite.

His brow furrowed slightly, a trace of gloom flickered in his deep-set eyes, and even the gentle tapping of his fingertips on the windowsill paused.

The street below the inn gradually grew lively. Peasant women carrying vegetable baskets on shoulder poles, peddlers pushing small carts, guests leading horses—their hawking cries and greetings intertwined into the bustling atmosphere of the marketplace.

Yet, this liveliness seemed to be shut out by the Wang Manor's tall vermilion-lacquered courtyard wall. The scenery within the walls was known only to those inside.

Situ Jun withdrew his gaze, picked up the cold tea on the table, and took a small sip. The tea tasted clear and bitter, mirroring his current state of mind.

He worried about Wan Xiangyu, wondering if she was happy living in such a manor.

As noon approached, the sun grew stronger, and the atmosphere within the Wang Manor suddenly became more animated.

The main gate, previously tightly shut, creaked open. Two servants dressed in fine silk stood guard on either side, their faces plastered with ingratiating smiles.

Immediately after, a gaudily decorated carriage slowly rolled out. The carriage shaft was carved with cloud patterns, and the wheels were wrapped in thick cotton padding, making its movement nearly silent.

The carriage curtain was made of fine Cloud Brocade, embroidered with mandarin ducks playing in water. It was half-drawn, faintly revealing the interior, which was spread with soft brocade cushions. Steward Wang's portly figure reclined diagonally upon them, his belly bulging, almost bursting the seams of his brocade robe.

A woman with heavy makeup nestled against him. A golden Buyao Hairpin was slanted in the hair at her temple, swaying gently with the carriage's movement. The woman had willow-leaf eyebrows and almond-shaped eyes, her lips painted vermilion. She was coquettishly leaning on Steward Wang's shoulder. Their behavior was intimate, their words frivolous.

Steward Wang's face still bore the flush from his drinking binge. A greasy smile hung at the corner of his mouth, his eyes were unfocused. He toyed with the woman's slender, fair jade-like hand, occasionally leaning close to her ear to whisper something, causing her to giggle repeatedly. Her voice was soft, seductive, and bone-melting, carrying through the curtain to the street.

'That Steward Wang is off seeking pleasure again, and it's only midday.'

Not far from the Wang Manor's entrance, several vendors, having set down their carrying poles to rest, huddled together and whispered their discussion.

'Isn't that the truth? Look at that woman's attire. It's clearly the famous courtesan, Cui Liu, from the Drunken Spring Pavilion. He brought her back to the manor last night, and now he's personally escorting her back.'

Another vendor lowered his voice, his tone carrying a hint of disdain.

'It's rather pitiful, really. The mistresses in the manor can actually tolerate him bringing a brothel woman home overnight. Especially the First Mistress, Wan Xiangyu. I heard she's a Cultivator, not only stunningly beautiful but also well-educated, gentle, and virtuous. How can even she sit back and do nothing?'

'Shh! Keep your voice down!'

A nearby vendor hurriedly interrupted him, nervously glancing towards the Wang Manor's direction:

'Have you got a death wish? I heard Steward Wang's main family is a Cultivator clan. They've produced a Foundation Establishment Stage Cultivator. That's why no one in Qingshan Town dares to cross Steward Wang. Even First Mistress Wan Xiangyu can only swallow her anger. If the Wang Manor people heard what you just said, you'd be in for a world of trouble!'

The group instantly fell silent, hastily picking up their carrying poles and leaving, as if their discussion had never happened. Situ Jun, standing on the inn's second floor, heard all of this clearly. The chill in his eyes gradually deepened.

He circulated the spiritual power within his body. His gaze pierced through the carriage's thin gauze curtain, seeing the scene inside with perfect clarity.

Steward Wang's eyes were bloodshot, his gaze muddy and unclear. His face bore the puffy, dissipated look of someone chronically given to heavy drinking and debauchery. His skin was slack, his eye bags heavy. There wasn't a trace of the elegance expected of a scholar, only the lewd and dissolute air of a street ruffian.

The Cui Liu girl nestled beside him, though dressed and made up to be charming and alluring, had a flicker in her eyes. Beyond coquettishness, there was also a hint of calculation. Presumably, she was also currying favor because she had her eye on Steward Wang's wealth and influence.

The carriage gradually moved into the distance, heading towards the Drunken Spring Pavilion in the east of the town. The Wang Manor's main gate slowly closed, and the courtyard returned to its previous stillness.

Situ Jun withdrew his spiritual power. His fingertips remained on the windowsill, his thumb pad rubbing against the cold wood grain.

He sensed Wan Xiangyu's aura. That refined, serene aura continuously lingered in a courtyard deep within the Wang Manor, not having moved an inch. It seemed she had remained in her own courtyard all morning.

A thought stirred within him. A faint wisp of Divine Sense transformed into an invisible thread, silently probing towards the depths of the Wang Manor, like a breeze passing by, disturbing no one.

Wan Xiangyu's courtyard wasn't large, but it was arranged with elegant neatness.

Several rose bushes were planted in the courtyard, blooming profusely at the moment, their petals still adorned with morning dew.

She was sitting before the dressing table by the window, holding a carved wooden comb, leisurely combing her jet-black hair. Her hair cascaded like a waterfall over her shoulders, making her skin appear even fairer.

The bronze mirror reflected her calm, expressionless face. Her eyebrows were like distant mountains, her eyes like autumn waters. Yet, deep within those clear eyes lay a trace of lingering melancholy, like a lake surface shrouded in thick fog, its depths unseen.

Her combing motions were slow, as if she were pondering something, or perhaps simply letting her mind go blank.

The roses outside the window bloomed vibrantly, but this vibrancy had nothing to do with her.

She sat there quietly, a faint aura of sorrow surrounding her, allowing Situ Jun, far away in the inn, to sense that profound, bone-deep loneliness.

Seeing this scene, Situ Jun sighed softly, withdrew his Divine Sense, turned, and returned to sit cross-legged on the bed.

He closed his eyes and began to meditate and regulate his breathing. Yet, he always kept a strand of his Divine Sense extended, paying attention to the situation within the Wang Manor. Especially after Wan Xiangyu's Dual Cultivation with him yesterday, he truly found himself somewhat concerned about this woman.

Just past noon, a sudden commotion arose within the Wang Manor, shattering the afternoon tranquility.

Situ Jun focused his hearing. Footsteps, voices, and playful laughter mixed together, spreading towards the direction of the inner courtyard.

Not long after, Steward Wang's coarse, hoarse voice rang out, tinged with drunkenness, along with the coquettish, affected voices of women.

It turned out Steward Wang had returned from the Drunken Spring Pavilion, and he had brought back three or four courtesans from there with him.

They were each dressed and made up flamboyantly, wearing red and green, chatting and laughing as they followed Steward Wang towards the inner courtyard, completely disregarding the gazes of the manor's servants.

Situ Jun shook his head slightly, an indescribable feeling welling up in his heart.

A gentle and beautiful woman like Wan Xiangyu deserved a good husband, yet she had married someone like Steward Wang, enduring such humiliation day after day. It truly wasn't worth it.

He could imagine the profound sorrow Wan Xiangyu must feel in her heart upon hearing the commotion outside at this moment.