Mother had always been timid, so Feng Rugu wanted to take her out with him.

But he couldn't find his mother.

On the bed where his father and mother slept, a large patch of fresh blood was stained.

Feng Rugu stood in front of the bed, looking like a water ghost that had just died. His long hair was tangled into a mess, with river water dripping from the ends, forming a small puddle at his feet.

A man in his twenties passed by the door. Noticing a suspicious-looking person in the room, he stopped, holding up a torch, and asked warily, "Who are you?"

Feng Rugu wiped the water from his face and answered clearly, "I was chasing a little girl, slipped and fell into the pond. Someone else fished her out."

The man snickered, putting away the knife in his hand. "Then don't even think about it. Even if you see her again, you probably won't get anything fresh, at most a few leftovers."

"What about the woman here?" Feng Rugu pointed to the bed. "I see this is a woman's room."

"Has your pubic hair grown out yet, huh? You want a woman that badly?" The man burst out laughing, strode into the room, and ruffled his hair, treating him as one of his own. "Little lunatic."

Feng Rugu smiled, really looking like a beautiful and crazy little lunatic.

The man gave him a push, motioning for him to go out. "Forget about that little woman, she's already been dragged to the woodshed in the backyard with her dead man. Didn't I say, this family can't be left alive, otherwise won't they come after us for revenge later? They're rich people, all with connections..."

Feng Rugu stumbled a step forward, staring at a bamboo scroll lying face up on the ground, with a few brown bloodstains on the corner.

Mother loved the running script, and Father loved Mother very much, so he often searched everywhere for ancient scrolls for her.

This scroll was Mother's beloved treasure. Every time she read it, she would wear thin silk gloves and examine it carefully.

This was a copy of "Mencius".

The bamboo scroll read: "The heart of compassion is the beginning of benevolence; the heart of shame and disgust is the beginning of righteousness; the heart of courtesy and modesty is the beginning of propriety; the heart of right and wrong is the beginning of wisdom."

Feng Rugu picked up the bamboo scroll and pulled hard, breaking the binding.

He looked towards the main gate and muttered, "...Ah, the fire is out."

The young man waved his hand. "Er said, a spreading fire would attract attention from the city, so he told people to put out the fire. When dawn comes, we'll quietly leave. By the time they discover the dead people here, we'll be long gone..."

Before he could even finish saying "gone", the child in front of him turned his head back.

A sharp bamboo stick pierced through the left side of his neck and out the right side.

The young man clutched his wound in disbelief, staggering back two steps, gurgling sounds of bursting bubbles coming from his throat.

He took out his sheathed knife and slashed wildly at Feng Rugu for a while, but having lost strength in his hands, he flung the knife out of his grasp.

Feng Rugu looked at him coldly, watching him cover his spurting wound, running around the room like a fly with clipped wings, unable to find an exit, until he breathed his last under the bookshelf.

Feng Rugu pulled out his knife, then walked to the bookshelf and used all his strength to push it over onto the man's body.

After simply burying him with scrolls, making it so others wouldn't immediately notice a corpse here, Feng Rugu closed the door and walked into the courtyard.

All around were unfamiliar and filthy faces, coming and going, uniformly carrying a fervent, joyful light on their faces, their arms full of silver and jewels.

Feng Rugu walked aimlessly forward, occasionally passing a familiar corpse, eyes wide open in death, and would detour around it.

Someone holding a pig leg, spitting as he spoke, said it was indeed a lowly merchant who wouldn't take out such good meat at home, just giving a few bowls of porridge, trying to trick people into calling him a "great philanthropist".

Feng Rugu looked dazed and confused, not knowing where he was going.

But his destination was very clear.

He went to the room of the usually strict butler, passed by his corpse, and took a key from a hidden compartment in the desk.

Once, he had come to ask the butler to let him go out and play. Standing on tiptoe and leaning by the window, he had witnessed the entire process of the butler putting the house keys into the hidden compartment and carefully storing them.

He made a trip to the wine cellar.

Soon, Feng Rugu, holding the key, found a group of people gathered together, eating meat with big bites.

He said, "I found a cellar, full of wine."

No one thought a young master from a wealthy family would have the guts to mix in with them. Moreover, an unfamiliar face was less enticing to them than that word: "Wine?"

"All wine," Feng Rugu said. "The smell is so strong it's suffocating."

Everyone was feeling a bit greasy with just meat and perked up at the mention of wine. A few people said, "Where? Take us to see."

The Feng family's wine cellar was not large. Father was not a drinker and only kept some rare vintages, some of which were intended to be taken out when Feng Rugu got married in the future.

The wine cellar was quickly emptied, with the best few urns sent to the great hall where Feng Mingyi entertained guests.

The bosses had already rushed to search and pocket large sums of banknotes and valuables, keeping everything by their side. They stayed in the great hall, allowing everyone to loot as they pleased, waiting for everyone to eat and drink their fill before leaving this place.

They accepted this "filial offering" like accepting steamed buns and porridge for disaster victims, and even specifically instructed that not everyone could get drunk and that people must be left to keep watch and so on.

Seeing the people delivering wine come out of the great hall, Feng Rugu's silhouette was cast on the ground by the watery moonlight at the corner of the corridor.

...Found them.

They were here.

The sound of wine cups in the hall gradually weakened, and the drunken boasting was gradually replaced by intermittent snoring.

In the darkness, Feng Rugu punctured a hidden wine urn and sprinkled it along the perimeter of the great hall.

The rich aroma of the wine wafted out the windows, blending with the fragrance outside, making it hard to distinguish for a moment.

Having done all that needed to be done, Feng Rugu gently closed the ajar door of the great hall, picked up a heavy lock, locked the door from the outside, and then picked up an oil lamp sitting by the corridor--

"Hey, what are you doing?"

A shout only made Feng Rugu pause for a moment.

He turned his face towards the direction of the voice.

It was a middle-aged man on patrol, looking at him warily.

The wind had picked up in the latter half of the night, and the light from the oil lamp flickered.

The mud smeared on Feng Rugu's face had dried, causing half his face to wrinkle, looking quite hideous.

The middle-aged man felt uneasy being stared at by him and asked again, "Who are you? How come I've never seen you before?"

The child, much taller than his peers but still with a youthful face, stared at the middle-aged man who had his mother's bracelets and earrings in his pocket and was wearing his father's long robe. The child tilted his head and smiled.

Then, he tossed the oil lamp in his hand into the air, letting it fall into the pool of liquor on the ground.

Thud, crack.

The lamp's flame splashed out, and the oil scattered.

The main hall, filled with the strong smell of alcohol, was engulfed in a boundless sea of fire at an unbelievable speed.

The middle-aged man was nearly licked by the instantly exploding flames. Shocked and angry, he scolded, but the strange child, after throwing the oil lamp, turned and ran without looking back.

Soon, cursing mixed with drunkenness came from the locked hall. The people inside realized something was wrong. They kicked the door with their feet, but it didn't budge. Their voices grew panicked. They went to the window and tried to push it open—

At some point, the windows had been tightly wound with thin iron wire from the outside.

This method was extremely cruel.

The entire hall had become a burning coffin.

The air was filled with the rich smell of alcohol, fueling the fire. The flames raged like a dragon. Before long, heart-wrenching howls came from inside. Two fiery figures ran around, desperately ramming the door, but to no avail.

The sudden fire in the hall and the middle-aged man chasing a child, shouting "Stop," left the surrounding people confused. But they also knew the situation was dire and started running after them.

Feng Rugu had originally planned to escape through the lotus pond, but seeing the situation was unfavorable and that he was just a child with limited stamina, he gritted his teeth and ran towards the main gate closest to the hall, hoping to fight for a chance to live.

However, what ultimately tripped him up were the ill-fitting clothes.

The belt slipped and fell during the run. He accidentally stepped on it and stumbled to the ground.

The main gate was only a hundred or so steps away from him...

The sound of people shouting to kill was just a few steps behind him. Feng Rugu seemed to already hear the sound of the cleaver cutting through the air, but he still refused to die. He crawled a few steps on his knees, struggled to his feet, and continued to run forward. Unexpectedly, as soon as he took a step, he crashed into someone and fell back on his bottom again.

The pursuers behind him also stopped and glared at the two people who had suddenly appeared.

The middle-aged man walked up, panting. He silently cursed the people at the door for not having eyes and letting outsiders in, while roughly shouting, "Who are you?!"

The person Feng Rugu had bumped into was wearing a Daoist robe, with a handsome and refined appearance, as if he were a celestial being.

"Just now, I saw the sky ablaze with fire here. My Daoist companion and I were passing by and felt concerned, so we came to take a look." He put a bamboo-framed folding fan away in his palm. "My name is Xu Xingzhi, everyone..."

His words were not finished before being rudely interrupted. "Damn Daoist, get lost! If you don't leave, we'll kill you too!"

Upon hearing this, before Xu Xingzhi could react, his Daoist companion's eyes turned cold.

Unlike Xu Xingzhi's handsome appearance, his companion had pointy, upturned eyes with a seductive red at the corners. Despite wearing Daoist attire, he had a devastatingly beautiful air about him.

He did not speak, but slightly raised his fingertips and pressed his index finger down.

Everyone present immediately felt as if Mount Tai was pressing down on them. They were all overwhelmed by a mighty spiritual pressure and prostrated on the ground, unable to move, like turtles that had swallowed weights.

The villagers became frightened, realizing they had offended someone they shouldn't have. They pleaded for mercy, but Xu Xingzhi ignored them all.

He squatted down on one knee and gently asked Feng Rugu, who was sitting on the ground, "Little one, why were you running?"

Before Feng Rugu could answer, he woke up.

This sleep had left his hands and feet numb. He lay in bed in a daze for a moment before getting up and opening the door for some fresh air.

Luo Fuchun had finished his morning lessons. He was covered in sweat and was about to go back to wash up when he turned around and saw Feng Rugu. He was extremely surprised and said, "Master, you're up so early today."

Feng Rugu stood by the door, yawning. "Mm, I dreamed all night. I dreamed of my family."

Luo Fuchun thought that with Master's current extravagance, always selecting the best of everything, it must be a bad habit developed from a young age.

He had heard that Master indeed came from a merchant family, but there had been a change in his household, so he entered the Daoist sect.

Luo Fuchun casually said, "Then it must have been a good dream."

Feng Rugu rubbed his eyes. "Yes. Since I dreamed of Master, it was a good dream."

His gaze shifted, and he saw Ruyi also standing at the door of the side hall, staring at him.

But when Feng Rugu's gaze moved over, he turned his face away.

Feng Rugu just felt this child was foolish. He instructed Luo Fuchun to bring water for him to wash up.

Luo Fuchun said yes and turned to leave.

Feng Rugu leaned against the door and greeted Ruyi with a grin. "Master Ruyi, good morning."

Ruyi pursed his lips, seeming to want to say something, but his expression also showed some hesitation.

Feng Rugu was observing his micro-expressions with great interest. Ruyi walked around the corridor to Feng Rugu and raised his hand, holding a clean handkerchief in his palm.

Feng Rugu was curious. "What's this for?"

Ruyi pointed to his forehead.

Feng Rugu reached up and touched it.

...His forehead was covered in cold sweat.

This was definitely not a sign of having a good dream.

Ruyi held out the handkerchief, his expression indifferent.

But Feng Rugu guessed that he was apologizing.

Last night, he hadn't been able to hide his play with Luojiu from him. Ruyi knew it was inappropriate to gossip behind people's backs, so he felt guilty. That's why he was being extra nice to him today.

At this point, Feng Rugu's habit of taking a mile when given an inch acted up again. He smiled and said, "Master Ruyi, Feng Er* was drunk last night and my hands are very weak. Please help me wipe my forehead, alright?"

*T/N: Feng Rugu's informal name

Feng Rugu was prepared for Ruyi to throw the handkerchief in his face and rebuke him with "Lord Yunzhong, please have some self-respect."

Unexpectedly, Ruyi only frowned slightly. Without saying a word, he really took the handkerchief and gently wiped Feng Rugu's forehead.

Feng Rugu was just showing a surprised expression when he heard a clang from around the corner. A bronze basin had fallen to the ground.

Luo Fuchun stared at the two of them, dumbfounded. It took a long time for him to come back to his senses. He snatched up the bronze basin and stammered, "M-M-Master, the water spilled. I'll go pour more!"

With that, before Feng Rugu could say anything, he ran off like a rabbit, faster than one too.