Chapter Five: A Righteous Encounter

From Azure Cloud Daoist Temple to Azure Cloud County, there was a government road, making travel convenient.

On this rare day off, Ning Cheng chose to accompany his younger sister in exploring the bustling and lively Azure Cloud County. The sights here were a world apart from the mountains and fields they were accustomed to; everywhere stood ancient-style buildings of brick or timber. Among these many structures, a significant number were shops. Every few dozen steps, one could glimpse a beautifully crafted signboard or a fluttering banner bearing words like "wine" or "tea" in flamboyant calligraphy.

The streets teemed with people coming and going. Ning Cheng, feeling at ease, relaxed his usual restrictions on his sister Ning Xin, letting her wander freely and witness this rare scene of peace and prosperity. It was the first time in her life that Ning Xin had come to the county with her brother. Though their finances were tight and they could afford nothing here—only to "window-shop"—she was still thrilled, her eyes shining with excitement, unable to see enough or have her fill.

As the two strolled leisurely, a sudden commotion ahead caught their attention, mingled with shouts and curses. Ning Cheng was not ordinarily one to meddle in others' affairs, but as they had nothing else to do, he noticed the growing crowd and decided to take his sister over to have a look.

The little white fox trotted close at Ning Cheng's heels, its small eyes brimming with curiosity.

Thanks to his mastery of martial arts and his naturally lean build, Ning Cheng was able to squeeze through the throng with his sister and reach the front, where they saw the source of the uproar.

In the center of the crowd, a group of thuggish ruffians, bare-chested and with vulgar faces, were besetting a man who looked like a scholar. The scholar had already been beaten black and blue, but still clung desperately to an exquisite embroidered pouch, refusing to let go. He shouted furiously through the pain, “Scoundrels! Ruffians! Robbing and beating people in broad daylight—do you have no respect for the law?”

The ruffians had been tempted by greed, noting that the scholar’s accent was not local and, more importantly, that he carried a purse stuffed with silver, perfect for some extra cash to spend on drink and gambling. They had not expected the scholar to be so stubborn, refusing to release the purse. Thus, the scene before them unfolded.

As the crowd thickened, the ruffians, embarrassed, began to falsely accuse the scholar as they pummeled him, bellowing, “You foppish pretty boy! Who knows where you stole such a fragrant, heavy, close-fitting pouch from, sneaking around here to fence your loot—we caught you red-handed, and you still try to deny it? Brothers, give him a real beating! Let’s see if his bones are harder than our fists!”

This was simply too much for Ning Cheng’s conscience. He had barely watched a few moments before he could no longer bear it. In this county, he was a stranger—no one knew him—so he simply told his sister to take the white fox and wait outside the crowd.

Ning Cheng himself strode into the center of the ring without a word and began to act. The ruffians, thinking they were about to succeed, were taken completely off guard as a tall, thin youth in ragged clothes suddenly broke in. With some mysterious boxing technique, he felled each one with a single punch, sending them sprawling face-first in the dirt.

Lying on the ground, the ruffians were shocked and terrified. They recognized the technique, at least in part, but dared not voice it in public. Exchanging glances, they realized they had crossed the wrong person today and quickly feigned unconsciousness, not daring to look up at the youth in ragged attire.

Ning Cheng had used only a fraction of his strength, intending merely to frighten these villainous ruffians. He expected they would not give up so easily and prepared himself to subdue them further if necessary. Unexpectedly, after a single blow, the lot of them lay obediently on the ground, feigning unconsciousness and refusing to rise.

Finding no satisfaction in further chastising them, Ning Cheng instead helped the battered scholar to his feet. “What is your name? Can you still walk?” he asked casually.

“My surname is Feng, given name Yunting. I am deeply grateful for your help, young hero! I can still walk—please, don’t trouble yourself on my account.” The scholar tried to take a few steps, coughing blood as he spoke, and answered honestly. He had already tucked the embroidered pouch safely away, clearly treating it as a treasure.

“Feng Yunting?” At first, Ning Cheng thought nothing of it; it was simply an act of chivalry, rescuing a scholar in distress.

But upon hearing that familiar name, a sense of foreboding swept over him, and he quickly asked, “Tell me, do you know a woman of the Mei family?”

“Ah? My wife is indeed a daughter of the Mei family. The pouch those ruffians tried to steal was embroidered by her own hand, which is why I could not part with it. Young hero, do you know someone from the Mei family? That would be a pleasure!” the scholar nodded in reply.

At these words, Ning Cheng shook his head, denying any acquaintance with the Mei family, but inwardly a wave of realization crashed over him. Feng Yunting was recorded in “Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio”—originally a man from Taihang, whose wife, Lady Mei, had in a previous life been a wronged ghost. Through fate, she met Feng Yunting, her injustice was redressed, and in her next life she became his wife. The couple were deeply devoted, but as Lady Mei’s family did not approve of Feng Yunting, they journeyed far from home. In the end, Feng Yunting passed the imperial exams and was granted title and office.

Now, having met Feng Yunting, already wed to Lady Mei, Ning Cheng realized that this world was indeed a parallel version of the one depicted in “Strange Tales”—a fact now confirmed. While it could be mere coincidence, verification would not be difficult should Ning Cheng wish to investigate.

The question now was: with Feng Yunting still wandering in poverty, accompanied by Lady Mei in a foreign land, and knowing his great future, should Ning Cheng befriend him at this moment? Perhaps, in this world, Feng Yunting’s official post would be right here in Azure Cloud County? If so, it would be worthwhile indeed to establish a friendship in his time of hardship.

Countless thoughts swirled in Ning Cheng’s mind, but before he could decide, the scholar Feng Yunting invited, “If you do not mind, young hero, please accompany me to the inn where my wife and I are staying, so we may properly express our gratitude. Otherwise, I shall never be able to repay your kindness—please do not refuse.”

Feng Yunting’s invitation was earnest and sincere. Half willingly, half hesitantly, Ning Cheng called for his sister Ning Xin to join them, and together they followed Feng Yunting to a modest travelers’ inn.

The inn stood on the edge of the county, not particularly spacious, but the owner kept it scrupulously clean; tables, chairs, and rooms were all neat and orderly.

Waiting inside was Lady Mei, who appeared to be eighteen or nineteen, graceful and dignified, her bearing captivating yet her face obscured by a veil. On seeing Feng Yunting return with blood still at the corner of his mouth, Lady Mei anxiously helped him into their room to tend his wounds, apologizing to Ning Cheng and asking him to wait outside.

The wait was a small matter; what truly caught Ning Cheng’s attention was that Lady Mei indeed bore a remarkable resemblance to the heroine from the television adaptation of “Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio”—almost nine-tenths alike.