Chapter 120: Recuperating in Wang Family Fort

Beyond Huanggang lies Wangjiabao. While it does not appear on any official maps, it is a village renowned far and wide. To be precise, it is a settlement shaped like stars orbiting the moon, radiating outward from the private estate of a wealthy landlord surnamed Wang.

The surrounding villagers are, for the most part, tenant farmers and domestic servants of the Wang family.

It is said that the Wang family once produced several high-ranking officials who held prominent positions at court. These, however, are merely rumors; the locals only know that Master Wang of Wangjiabao is incredibly wealthy, and all the forests and land within sight are his private property. Officials from Chuzhou frequently visit the estate, further cementing the Wang family’s status as the local landed gentry.

In these chaotic times, the current Master Wang, for the sake of self-preservation, organized a local militia. With spears and staves, he gathered over a hundred men to guard the estate. Coincidentally, no rebels or bandits have ever dared to harass this place, and even the fearsome water pirates of Hongze Lake have never set foot here.

At high noon, inside a spacious and bright guest room in the Wang family mansion, Kong Sheng lay on a couch, still unconscious. He had been in a coma for a day and a night. Had his breathing not been steady and his pulse normal, Mu Changfeng would have lost his composure long ago.

Seven or eight wounds were found on Kong Sheng’s body. Although they were superficial and did not reach the vitals, the sight of torn flesh and flowing blood caused Liu Xianzhen, the physician exclusive to Wangjiabao, to shudder when he removed the young man’s robes. How could such a delicate, scholarly youth endure such agony? Where had these wounds come from?

If not for Master Wang’s personal assurances, Dr. Liu would have suspected that Kong Sheng and his companions were fugitives fleeing imperial justice.

Li Xuan’s people had provided high-quality styptic powder, clearly supplies from the Prince of Guo’s mansion. With Mu Changfeng’s assistance, Dr. Liu dressed Kong Sheng’s wounds and administered a decoction to soothe his spirit and nourish his blood. He then instructed Mu Changfeng not to disturb him, allowing him to sleep, explaining that his vital energy and blood had been severely depleted and he needed time to recover.

Wu Xian and Wu Jie had also sustained multiple injuries, but fortunately, being physically robust, they were well on their way to recovery after taking medicine and having their wounds bandaged.

In the courtyard, Li Xuan stood in the sunlight, wrapped in a fur cloak. Still dressed as a male scholar, she let the cold wind whip around her, her eyes flickering as if she were contemplating something deep.

Zhang Zhao bowed respectfully behind her. "Your Highness, I have instructed the people of the Wang estate to treat Kong Sheng and his three companions with care. Everything is arranged. We should..."

Li Xuan remained silent.

Zhang Zhao dared not utter another word, standing deferentially behind her.

Zhang Zhao truly could not fathom the Princess’s true intentions. He had gathered that due to some inexplicable misunderstanding, a fierce conflict had erupted between Kong Sheng and Li Xuan. It seemed Kong Sheng had offended her deeply, leaving Li Xuan with a burning hatred for him. This was the primary reason she had stood by and watched coldly as the four of them battled the water pirates, and why she kept referring to him as "that little thief."

Yet, strangely, she did not seem to loathe him entirely. Otherwise, she would not have provided medicine or arranged for them to recuperate within the walls of Wangjiabao.

Wangjiabao, after all, was a secret stronghold established by the Prince of Guo at the border of Jiangnan and Jiangbei. Many of the servants here were actually guards from the Prince’s mansion, and Master Wang was a distant cousin of the Prince’s chief steward, Wang Mingsheng.

After a long while, Li Xuan slowly turned back to look at Zhang Zhao, her expression rippling slightly. "Zhang Zhao, send ten men back the way we came to meet our grain convoy. That shipment is vital to the safety of the Jiangbei camp; there must be no mistakes. If anything goes wrong, you will answer with your head!"

"As for me... that little thief once threatened me and leaked information about our grain to the rebels. I shall stay here to keep a close watch on him. If he dares to act rashly, I will not show him mercy." Li Xuan’s fair hand brushed across her hair, a flicker of murderous intent crossing her eyes.

She suddenly recalled the ferocity of Kong Sheng’s advance that day, the subsequent binding, and those deliberate moments of provocation. As a high-born Princess of the Great Tang, her current restraint was born of an appreciation for talent; she hoped to recruit him for the Prince of Guo. In her mind, sparing him was an act of immense grace and magnanimity.

Li Xuan decided that once Kong Sheng awoke, she would recruit him into the Prince of Guo’s army. With the indomitable courage he had displayed, he would surely become a fierce general in the Jiangbei camp, one who would strike fear into the hearts of the Yan army. Moreover, he possessed literary brilliance, courage, and strategy. In time, he would undoubtedly become the Prince’s right-hand man.

Zhang Zhao did not take her words entirely to heart. He thought to himself: *If you were truly worried about him leaking secrets, you would have killed him to save the trouble. Why go through all this, and why stay behind to "monitor" the so-called little thief yourself?*

"Your Highness, as you command!" Zhang Zhao bowed, turned on his heel, and strode out of the courtyard. He mounted his horse and rode off with a dozen riders, vanishing like a gust of wind.

Beyond this point lay Sizhou, not far from Pengcheng. With the Jiangbei army arriving to provide support, Zhang Zhao no longer worried about Li Xuan’s safety.

As the cold wind bit, Wu Xian and Wu Jie emerged from their room, walking cautiously along the corridor. They were not being timid, but any careless movement would jar their wounds and cause unbearable pain.

Seeing Princess Fengyang, Li Xuan, standing before them with a cold expression, they were startled and quickly lowered their heads in salute. "Greetings, Your Highness."

Circumstances had changed. Once, they had been at each other’s throats, and the Princess had been threatened and offended by Kong Sheng. But now, since the Princess was returning good for evil and overlooking their transgressions, Wu Xian and Wu Jie dared not be disrespectful. Furthermore, as former palace guards, they held a natural reverence for the imperial family.

Li Xuan gazed at them intently. She felt these two were no ordinary servants; they carried the bearing of soldiers. It never occurred to her that Kong Sheng was accompanied by actual imperial palace guards. The thought flickered in her mind only to be extinguished instantly.

"Has that little thief awakened?" Li Xuan asked coldly.

Wu Xian smiled apologetically. "Your Highness, my young master has not yet woken."

Li Xuan gave a curt "Oh" and moved past them without another word. A person of her status would not deign to engage in idle conversation with a commoner’s attendants.

Wu Jie watched her go, lowering his voice to Wu Xian. "Brother, Princess Fengyang is returning good for evil. She truly has the grace of the royal family."

Wu Xian curled his lip. *Returning good for evil?* he thought. She simply wanted to recruit Kong Sheng to work for her father, the Prince of Guo. Even ignoring his brilliant literary talent, his prowess in battle—comparable to the legendary Overlord himself—was enough to catch her eye.

If she truly had such a magnanimous heart, would she have stood by and watched them fight the water pirates?

Wu Xian sighed. Recalling Kong Sheng’s resolve and iron will—refusing to push them out as scapegoats even when facing death—a softness stirred in his heart. *Young Master Kong, my brother and I owe you our lives. From this day forward, we shall serve you with our dying breaths.*