Chapter 067: The Rolling Pin's Ferocious Assault on the Chubby Boy

Qinghu woke up to find her mother already sitting by her bedside, waiting.

“My precious, you’re awake. I had them keep your meal warm for you. Would you like something to eat?” her mother asked gently.

Her mother seemed especially affectionate today, which left Qinghu a little puzzled. Taking advantage of the time washing up, she lowered her voice to ask Xiaobai, “What’s up with Mother? Did something good happen?”

“I heard the two types of greens we brought back—one called Greenwing Grass, the other Sweetleaf—are both ninth-grade spirit treasures. The key is they can be cultivated on a large scale. Even if they degrade into ordinary spirit herbs over time, we can still grow and sell them as proper medicinal ingredients.

I hear Master and Uncle Zhao were overjoyed after examining the roots and seedlings of the Greenwing and Sweetleaf,” Xiaobai explained.

“But can’t you just pick Cangji at will in the water?” Qinghu asked in surprise.

“That still means going into the lake, doesn’t it?” Xiaobai replied matter-of-factly. “It’s troublesome, and there are too many big things in the water—one misstep and you’ll get eaten. The Scarletfruit only gets harvested once every few months, and can’t even be sold—just kept for ourselves.

This time, finding the Greenwing and Sweetleaf really pleased Master.

Because of that, Madam believes you’re truly blessed, Miss.”

Hearing this, Qinghu puffed out her little chest. “Of course! If I’m not blessed, who is?”

“Yes, yes—this servant thinks Miss is the luckiest in our family,” Xiaobai replied, grinning.

“Obviously. Fourth Brother—no, even Eldest Brother can’t compare to me,” Qinghu boasted, cocking her head in pride.

“Little Hu, come out and eat,” called Fourth Lady Feng from the outer room.

Being watched so tenderly while she ate was a little too much for Qinghu’s appetite. She gobbled down her food and dashed off.

“Oh, that rascal! All she does is run wild all day,” her mother’s voice chased after her as she ran, with Xiaobai in tow, even faster.

Outside their stone fortress, construction was bustling. Some buildings already had their exteriors completed and were being fitted out inside. Tall gatehouses were rising at the entrances and exits of various lanes and alleys.

People hurried to and fro, but when they noticed the two little girls, they nodded at them kindly.

Just as Qinghu and Xiaobai were thinking the world was mostly good and decent, a fat, pig-faced man with greasy hands suddenly blocked their way.

“Where did these pretty little misses come from? Come with me and be my concubine,” the man slobbered, leering as he reached for Qinghu.

“Xiaobai!” Qinghu called, extending a hand behind her.

Xiaobai immediately produced a specially made rolling pin from her storage pouch and handed it to Qinghu, pulling out another for herself.

“I’ll show you ‘concubine’—you filthy pig, see if you’ll talk nonsense again!” Qinghu and Xiaobai, wielding their extra-long rolling pins, proceeded to thrash the man until his face was swollen and bruised like a real pig’s head, lumps and all.

“Ow, ow, help! Murder! They’re killing me…” the man wailed.

Not far away, Qi Dongxuan quietly withdrew his step from the stone steps, apparently seeing no need to intervene, a barely suppressed grin on his face.

The fat man’s cries turned pitiful; tears streamed down his face as he crouched and clutched his head, unable to run or hide, sobbing for help.

Qi Dongxuan’s servant Dongguo was doubled over with laughter.

“My, these little misses are fierce. Just a rolling pin, and she swings it like a divine weapon.”

Qi Dongxuan shook his head, amused. “You don’t understand. It’s exactly because she’s using a rolling pin that the fat man’s bodyguards are too embarrassed to step in—grown men bullying children, after all.”

“What? Sir, that fat man has secret bodyguards?” Dongguo asked, stunned.

“Of course he does. This is the Eastern Wilds,” Qi Dongxuan replied, the smile still lingering at the corners of his mouth.

As Qinghu continued to pummel the fat man like a game of whack-a-mole, she shouted, “Trying to make me your concubine? You, with your sorry state—flabby flesh, shabby clothes not even worth one of my meals—and you say you’d support me? Dream on!”

“Ahem, enough, enough,” a middle-aged man in a black brocade robe approached.

“Father, you’re here—save me, help me!” Seeing his backer arrive, the fat man scrambled under the man’s robe, clutching his leg and bawling like a damsel in distress.

Qinghu sheepishly put away her rolling pin and offered a guilty smile.

The middle-aged man’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “You must be Shen Qinghu?”

“Uncle, you know me?” Qinghu was surprised.

“I know your father and your eldest brother,” the man replied warmly. “All the carts and caravans your family used from Yinzheng City to here belong to my family.”

“Hello, Uncle,” Qinghu replied politely, remembering that all the escort and caravan masters were said to be Shen Fangxu’s friends.

“My useless son deserved that beating. Stuffed himself full and then dared to harass decent girls on the street—serves him right.”

“Father, wuwu…” the fat boy whimpered miserably, looking to his father for justice.

“But this little fatty of mine could actually afford to keep you,” the man continued. “Don’t judge by his clothes—he sneaked out on purpose in common dress so I wouldn’t notice. And look at all that fat; you can tell our family never lacks for meat.

If you married into our family, you could do as you pleased with him. I’d even clear out all his other concubines for you.”

Qinghu shook her head immediately.

“No, no. He’s too weak.

Uncle, your son’s flesh and bones are so soft, clearly never tempered. Don’t be fooled by the roundness—he wouldn’t dare eat a scrap of wild beast meat. Such a wastrel, I could squash him with barely a squeeze.

I didn’t even dare hit him hard!

Besides, I must have wild beast meat for every meal, three times a day, any grade from seven to nine is fine.

Rare spirit treasures and delicacies don’t impress me.

It’s not that I look down on him, but could he ever provide for my appetite?

If he can’t even cover my meal costs, why would I marry into your family?”

The middle-aged uncle stared at her in shock. Was this really Shen Fangxu’s daughter, and not the legitimate daughter of some high official, or a little princess from a branch of the Dao Court?

“Uncle, I have no reason to lie to you. I just had lunch—ninth-grade silver-eyed carp, with stir-fried sweetleaf and Greenwing porridge,” Qinghu declared earnestly.

The man’s eyes went wide.

Was Old Shen raising a daughter, or an ancestor?

“No wonder your father always says he’s raising a pampered daughter!” the man sighed, unable to doubt Qinghu’s words, for Shen Fangxu had always struck him as a capable man. With only one daughter, of course he’d spoil her.

“Hearing you say all this, it seems my little fatty really isn’t cut out for such fortune.”