Chapter 67: Women and Dogs

Upon hearing Xiaowen’s words, the confusion that had weighed heavily in my heart all night instantly dissipated.

To Uncle Yong, I was merely a hound he was grooming. He wanted me to possess hunting skills, yet he also expected me to wag my tail loyally to my master.

Human nature itself is a complex thing, and the mindset of such a prominent figure is even harder to fathom. The reason Seventh Uncle could finalize a contract with him involving a sum I couldn't even imagine amidst casual laughter was because they operated on the same plane, whereas I, even in the role of a dog, had to constantly decipher the master's unspoken intentions.

Understanding it was one thing, but that indescribable bitterness still quietly rose from the depths of my heart.

Books say that to defy the heavens, alter one's fate, and rise above the crowd, a man must not cherish his life and a woman must not cherish her body. I slowly began to grasp the deeper meaning behind those literal words. It doesn't mean a man must literally throw his life away or a woman must literally sell her body; rather, it means one must gamble with whatever is most precious to them just to secure the slimmest chance of getting ahead. It sounds simple, but putting it into practice is damn near impossible.

At that moment, perhaps because my stifled state of mind needed an outlet, a surge of daring wickedness welled up within me. Gritting my teeth and hardening my resolve, I called out to Xiaowen, "Wife, you really are smart."

Her body stiffened. She turned back to look at me with a complex gaze. I could read seven parts astonishment and two parts grievance, but missing entirely was any trace of murderous intent. The next second, her foot came down hard on mine, and she ground her teeth as she twisted her heel across my toes. The pain was so sharp I nearly jumped. I cried out in outrage, "Regicide against your husband!"

"If scoring verbal points against me gives you a sense of achievement, by all means, continue," Xiaowen said with a bitter smile. "Do you know what you look like right now? You look like a dog that has been brutally beaten by its master; too cowardly to bare its teeth at the master, it instead secretly urinates on the master's bed to vent its spleen. It feels great while you're pissing, but when you're caught, the beating you take is bound to be all the more vicious. I don't resent you, and I won't deny that I actually like you. But don't forget my status: I was bought by someone else and given to Uncle Yong. To use your words, back in ancient times, people like me were courtesans. You are his hound, and I am his plaything. He dictates the trajectory of your life at this stage, and he decides how to toy with me. To put it bluntly, regardless of what he considered me before, if tonight he told me to strip and serve him in his presence, I wouldn't be able to utter a single word of refusal. If he really did that, what could you do? What could I do?"

Faced with that question, I suddenly choked up, and the breath in my chest refused to disperse.

It was as though I had plummeted once more onto that chessboard, entirely powerless to command my own destiny.

"Then I'd storm into the room and kill him," I said, my teeth clenched, my eyes bloodshot.

Xiaowen looked up at me and said, "All right, stop fighting a shadowboxing match with the air. There's no need and no meaning in it. It's not worth gambling your future for my sake. What Uncle Yong actually sees me as remains an unknown. Who knows if he genuinely intends to take me as a goddaughter or if he plans to use me as a vase at some critical juncture in the future? Until then, don't become too infatuated with me; it will only ruin you. When the day finally comes that you can truly control your fate and mine, if you still want to marry me, I will dare to marry you. Whether you're out there fighting on the front lines or continuing to haul sacks of cement, I will stay home, tend to the household, raise the children, and care for our parents, ensuring you never have to be distracted or troubled by domestic affairs."

I reached out directly, pulling her into my arms and holding her tight.

I was terrified that the moment I let go, she would truly be claimed by Uncle Yong.

Her body, rigid at first, gradually relaxed. Finally, she raised a hand and gently patted my back, soothingly whispering like a panicked child, "I spoke only of the worst-case scenarios, and my assessment of Uncle Yong's attitude tonight was based entirely on the gloomiest possibilities. It probably sounds like a heavy burden to bear, but if you always prepare for the worst, any unexpected turn becomes a pleasant surprise. I truly believe the saying that heaven will never fail those who put their heart into it. Ah-Cheng, when trouble strikes, don't try to bear it all by yourself and push through to the bitter end. If you want to assemble the Eight Divisions of the Thousand Gates and play the board to rise in the world, I can be your piece—right when you need me most."

"Stay at home! Tend to the household and raise the children! A man's business is not something you should be meddling in right now!" I retorted angrily.

"Fine, I'll listen to you, my big boy. When are you going to finish copying that book and give it to me? When are you going to help me catch that petty thief? That so-called 'Haohan' of the Rong Sect you keep talking about has already broken into my room twice. Just when do you plan to use your Jianghu methods to catch him? Since he broke in twice without stealing anything, he must be coveting my beauty. All my undergarments are kept in the house—aren't you worried he might be defiling your future wife in his mind?" Xiaowen asked.

"What?!" I gasped.

What Xiaowen said was entirely possible.

At the very least, my cousin Chen Jianjun was the kind of person who would pull off something like that!

I grabbed Xiaowen's hand and rushed into the rental room, checking for the secret marks that old thief of the Rong Sect had left for me twice. The date we had agreed upon had long since passed. This man seemed deeply versed in Jianghu rules; he had continuously used secret signals to urge me into action, and his most recent signal had even asked whether I had been thrown in jail. I immediately left a counter-mark, setting a date for action three days later.

"Throw everything out and buy new ones!" I instructed Xiaowen.

She smiled and said, "Relax, I was just teasing you. If something like that had actually happened, I'd probably feel even more disgusted than you. I've left markers on the wardrobe and other items around the room. He seems to be someone nursing a pure, unrequited crush on me; after breaking in, he just sat in the chair and looked at my photographs, nothing else. Ah, this cursed charm of mine."

"When I catch him, I'm going to drown him in the river!" I gritted my teeth.

"Jealous? I advise you not to. If you're going to get jealous over this, you'll probably end up drinking dry an entire vinegar factory. As for the book, you might as well hand it over to me. I can probably guess why you've dragged your feet for so long without giving it to me. It's not that you're reluctant to part with it, nor is it because you haven't finished it; it's because you think it's dirty, right? You know without even thinking that the techniques of the lower-nine-stream Jianghu trades aren't clean." Xiaowen said.

"You really are frighteningly smart," I sighed.

"How else could I be a disciple of the Orchid Gate? Rest assured, I won't actually go out and practice those lower-tier arts myself. The techniques of the Orchid Gate rely on men to make their start. Since I've chosen to support you in carving out your own path, I need to know what you're busy with and what you're doing out there so I can gauge whether you're walking into any real danger," she said.

"Wait for me," I said. With that, I hurried upstairs, fetched the book I had finished copying long ago, and handed it to her with both hands, filled with utmost respect.

She opened the book.

Silently gazing at the characters I had copied stroke by stroke, she gently traced the words with her fingertips, her eyes burning with intensity as she murmured, "The handwriting reflects the man."

She closed the book, crooked her finger at me, and said, "Get in here."

The moment I stepped inside the room, she lightly kicked the door shut with her foot.

And then, I found myself pinned against the wall.