Chapter 3: Choosing a Fiancée

Su Muqing drove, glancing at Lu Feng in the rearview mirror from time to time, her eyes sharp with indignation. In her mind, Lu Feng was nothing but a scoundrel—a shameless rascal.

Su Muyu sat quietly in the passenger seat, occasionally turning around to offer biscuits to Qilin.

“Your husky is beautiful,” she said.

“It’s called Qilin, not a husky,” Lu Feng corrected.

Su Muqing, evidently more familiar with dogs, tugged at Su Muyu’s hand and whispered, “Sis, this is an Alaskan Malamute. It looks a lot like a husky—they’re both among the trio of silly sled dogs.”

“What are the trio of silly sled dogs?” Lu Feng asked, puzzled.

“It’s the husky, the Alaskan Malamute, and the Samoyed. All sled dogs. Look at its expression—so silly and adorably dumb,” Su Muqing replied, bursting into laughter.

These twin sisters were indeed odd—identical in looks and attire, yet polar opposites in temperament. The elder, Su Muyu, was gentle and quiet, so timid that she’d only cry and plead if robbed. The younger, Su Muqing, was fiery and impulsive; the moment she heard someone bullied her sister, she’d rush in to fight, having even learned martial arts. Her speech was brash and careless, and her laughter lit up the room.

After her laughter subsided, Su Muqing caught sight of Lu Feng’s solemn expression in the rearview mirror, immediately putting on a stern face and glaring at him again before resuming her driving.

“Why name it Qilin? That’s hardly a dog’s name,” Su Muyu asked curiously.

“When I was naming it, I said I liked bold names. My master suggested Qilin, saying I could handle it,” Lu Feng explained.

Su Muqing rolled her eyes and muttered, “Master, huh? Sounds like something out of a martial arts novel.”

...

Twenty minutes later, the car stopped outside the Ink Fragrance Residence villa district.

This was a high-end villa area, each house detached with its own yard, complemented by communal green spaces. The environment was exceptionally pleasant.

The car doors opened. Lu Feng and the large dog got out. Su Muyu lowered the window and said, “We’ve arrived. If you’re looking for someone, ask the security. We’re off.”

The Beetle drove into the community, turned onto a small path, and disappeared beneath the trees.

When Lu Feng tried to enter the community with his dog, the security guard stopped him.

“Are you a visitor or a resident?” the guard asked, unfamiliar with Lu Feng.

“I’m here to see someone.”

“Who are you seeing? What’s the address?”

“Su Daoan, House 66.”

The villa district was spacious, but residents were few. The guard had worked there for two years and knew all the inhabitants, including Su Daoan.

“What’s your name? Do you have an appointment with Mr. Su? I need to call him to confirm before letting you in,” the guard said.

“Quite the airs. Just tell him I’m here to set things right!” Lu Feng said, beginning to lose patience.

Set things right...

The guard eyed Lu Feng suspiciously. “You’re here to stir up trouble, aren’t you? Do you even know what kind of place this is? Ink Fragrance Residence isn’t somewhere a country bumpkin like you can barge into.”

“I’ve no time to chat with a petty underling. Call Su Daoan out, or you’ll regret it,” Lu Feng retorted. He’d heard the old saying, “It’s easier to meet the king than his minions,” and now he was experiencing it firsthand.

The guard grabbed his rubber baton and warned, “Hey! Getting cocky, are you? Get lost! Try anything and you’ll be sorry.”

Lu Feng snatched the baton, twisted the guard’s arm, pinned him to the desk, and tapped the baton on the table. “Call him! Or I’ll break your arm.”

“Ow!” the guard cried, pressing the speakerphone and dialing House 66.

“Hello…” The call connected.

“Mr. Su, it’s the security office. There’s a young man here—he says he’s here to…to set things right.” The guard found it absurd, but he could only force himself to relay the message.

“Set things right?” A middle-aged man sounded confused on the other end.

Lu Feng spoke up, “I’ve come from Yunshan, to reclaim what belongs to the sect.”

Bang!

There was a clatter as the middle-aged man was so stunned that the receiver fell to the floor.

Regaining his composure, he snatched up the receiver and said anxiously, “I’ll be there immediately, I’ll be right there…”

A minute later, a lean, forty-something man hurried to the gate. Upon seeing Lu Feng from afar, his gaze flickered with complicated emotions.

“Are you Brother Feng?” Su Daoan called out as he reached the gate, his voice tinged with surprise, respect, and guilt.

The guard tried to speak, but Su Daoan waved him off.

“Come in, nephew…” Su Daoan invited Lu Feng in, visibly moved.

Lu Feng found it odd. He had come to set things right—shouldn’t the other be wary, ready with all sorts of schemes to resist? But despite his confusion, Lu Feng walked tall, proud to be a descendant of Yunshan, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

He followed Su Daoan into a three-story house.

Su Daoan invited Lu Feng to sit on the sofa in the living room, then respectfully clasped his hands and said, “Nephew, is there any instruction from our elder brother?”

“Uncle,” Lu Feng replied sternly, doing his best to appear solemn. “My master told me to call you uncle when I see you, to fulfill my duty to my elders. But when I carry out the sect’s mission, I won’t hold back.”

“Yes, yes…” Su Daoan lowered himself humbly. “Does our elder brother have any admonition?”

“My master said he disdains to admonish you. He said you’re mediocre, neither skilled in medicine nor martial arts. When I act, I needn’t observe any courtesy—just leave you alive to take back to Yunshan,” Lu Feng declared, sitting upright, his words full of authority, quite at odds with his youthful appearance.

“I am ashamed of my mediocre talent,” sweat broke out on Su Daoan’s forehead.

He had never considered resisting. He was once a disciple of Yunshan and knew what Yunshan represented. Though Yunshan’s numbers had dwindled, every one of its members was extraordinary.

“My master sent me to set things right and reclaim the sect’s lost items. He said, if you refuse to return them or misuse them, I am to bring you back to Yunshan for judgment,” Lu Feng announced.

“I would never dare misuse them,” Su Daoan promised in terror.

In the opulent living room, a forty-something man spoke with utmost respect to a rural youth—an odd scene, no matter how one looked at it.

Lu Feng saw nothing wrong with it. At this moment, he represented the sect, Yunshan, and had to be dignified.

He calmly took a letter from his pocket and handed it over. “This is a letter from my master. He said if you fulfill your promise, your past mistakes can be forgiven.”

Su Daoan took the letter, his hands trembling, for it would decide his fate.

He opened the envelope and found two sheets—one old, evidently kept for years, the other new.

He quickly read both, finally breathing a sigh of relief. He handed the newly written letter to Lu Feng, forcing a smile. “Nephew, your uncle made mistakes when young, failed your master, and has regretted it ever since. When I left the sect, I promised a marriage arrangement. Now that you’re here, let’s fulfill that engagement.”

Lu Feng took the letter, read it carefully, and frowned. “What’s this? I’m here to set things right, not to get married!”

Su Daoan put away the old letter, patted Lu Feng’s hand, and said earnestly, “Nephew, when your uncle left the sect, I took your master’s golden prescription and left a marriage contract. It was agreed that, if I had a daughter, she’d marry your master’s descendant. Your master has only taken you as a disciple, so naturally, it’s you. When I left, you were just a baby—I even held you for the first time, and you wet yourself all over me.”

“You wet yourself all over my face! Enough nonsense! Hand over the golden prescription so I can report back,” Lu Feng snapped, slapping the table.

“Nephew, your master’s letter is quite clear. If I fulfill my promise, marry my daughter to you, and don’t misuse the golden prescription, I needn’t return to the sect for punishment,” Su Daoan said, beaming.

The letter did say so—it was Lu Feng’s own, written in his master’s handwriting, unmistakably genuine. But…

“That old letter—let me see it!” Lu Feng demanded, pointing to the letter Su Daoan had hidden.

Su Daoan quickly pressed down Lu Feng’s hand and pleaded, “Nephew, that old letter is my confession for the foolish things I did years ago. No need for you to see it. Your master’s new letter is clear—just follow your uncle’s arrangements and fulfill the marriage contract.”

“Fulfill what? Who knows what your daughter looks like? If she’s a sow, am I supposed to marry her too? Judging by your sly smile, she must be a real liability,” Lu Feng grumbled.

Su Daoan was actually delighted that the sect was willing to accept this marriage. Ten years ago, he had brought his daughter to Yunshan to seek the elders, but was turned away, unable even to find the sect’s gates.

Now, with Lu Feng arriving on his own, it was as if rain had fallen from the heavens, salvation in despair.

Su Daoan warmly clasped Lu Feng’s hand, making Lu Feng wonder if the old man had any strange proclivities.

“Nephew, I promise you my daughter isn’t ugly, but…” Su Daoan said, grasping Lu Feng’s hand as if it were a treasure.

“But what? I knew there’d be a catch!” Lu Feng immediately became wary.

“But you’ll have to choose. The engagement wasn’t specific about which one,” Su Daoan explained, then shouted upstairs, “Xiaoyu, Xiaoqing, come down and meet your senior brother!”

“What’s a senior brother? Is it edible?” a haughty voice called from upstairs.

Su Muqing leapt down half a flight of stairs, and upon seeing Lu Feng, she glared and barked, “It’s you! You filthy rascal, what are you doing in my house?”

...

Five minutes later, Su Daoan briefly explained the marriage arrangement to his two daughters.

Su Muyu and Su Muqing stood before Lu Feng, each with a different expression.

Su Muyu twisted the hem of her dress, shy and bashful. Su Muqing clenched her fists, glaring at Lu Feng as if she wanted to devour him whole.

“Nephew, these are my two unruly daughters—they’re your junior sisters, I suppose. The elder, Muyu, likes to read, has studied the golden prescription, and knows some traditional medicine. The younger, Muqing, is lively, has learned some martial arts, and is mischievous, though her character is good,” Su Daoan introduced, then turned to Lu Feng. “Choose one.”

Lu Feng stared blankly at the twin sisters, momentarily at a loss.

Su Muyu continued to nervously fiddle with her sash, saying nothing. Su Muqing clenched her fists and threatened loudly, “If you choose my sister, I’ll beat you to death!”

With those words, everyone looked at Su Muqing.