Catching a turtle in a jar

Gu Fei was almost lost to obsession; anyone who disturbed her would provoke her into a furious rage. Her temper was so explosive that even Old Ma had been driven from the ink chamber several times. When You Hu came to call and was once again turned away, the usually gentle scholar could bear it no longer.

He instructed You Er to kick open the door to the ink chamber, strode in without concern for the biting chill radiating from Gu Fei, abandoned his wheelchair, and bent down to scoop her up, tossing her out of the room.

As if she hadn’t seen daylight in half a lifetime, Gu Fei squeezed her eyes shut, unsettled by the brightness. All she could hear was the pounding of You Hu’s heart. She turned her face away, unused to such close contact, only to hear You Hu’s cold, mocking laughter above her head—

“Why not open your eyes? So now you know what discomfort is?” You Hu’s voice was icy, the suppressed anger clear to hear.

Gu Fei rubbed her eyes, opening a narrow slit, and answered with equal coldness, “Put me down!”

Obeying, You Hu set her in the wheelchair You Er had fetched. As Gu Fei opened her eyes fully, he leaned close, enunciating every word: “If you remain this willful and reckless, disregarding your health, I will burn those two damned ledgers at once, and never again procure anything you need.”

Gu Fei met his gaze, looking deep into his eyes. In those dark pupils, she found a small reflection of herself: pale from lack of sunlight, her chin sharp and thin. In this short time, she’d lost several more pounds—her face now scarcely larger than a palm.

“I trust you’ll remember my words,” You Hu continued, straightening up. Whether or not Gu Fei accepted his threat, he continued, “In recent days, some have come to the shop deliberately seeking trouble, and unpleasant rumors have begun to spread. Without someone as skilled as you with ink pills, there’s no one to counter such attacks. I figured, if we are to retaliate, let it be decisive. So I’ve come to ask if you might spare some time to visit the shop, and let me arrange things—to break this situation.”

Gu Fei’s brow furrowed, but at the mention of serious business, all irritation with You Hu vanished. “Do you know who is behind this?”

You Hu shook his head. “We haven’t found out yet.”

Hearing this, Gu Fei tapped the armrest of her wheelchair with her finger, a sly smile curling her lips. Her dark eyes glinted with cunning, like a little fox plotting mischief. “In that case, I’ll draw them a big picture—follow the thread, and we’ll surely find a handle on them.”

A flash of excitement lit You Hu’s eyes. “How do you plan to draw such a picture?”

Gu Fei glanced at him, suddenly recalling his earlier rudeness and feeling a surge of mischief. “I have a task for you.”

At these words, You Hu’s sharply arched brows rose. His eyes, bright as a phoenix’s, shimmered with a playful glint. “Oh?”

Her rosy lips curled in a smile as Gu Fei looked up at him, her expression radiant as spring. “It must be you who wields the brush for this picture.”

The next day, You Hu wrote with simmering frustration. Beside him lay a thick stack of paper, each sheet bearing the same content: tales of Gu Fei, the illegitimate daughter, returning to the Gu family, using every means to seize the precious ink formula originally belonging to the family, and then usurping the stewardship from Master Gu Zhong.

This so-called “picture” of Gu Fei’s was simply for You Hu to exaggerate and distort certain truths, to write out innumerable copies for others to spread. Whether these “truths” might sully her reputation was not her concern.

She had long resolved never to marry. Rather than endure future scorn for her supposed improprieties or tolerate a household teeming with other women, she preferred to live freely on her own. Her great vendetta remained unpaid; what time did she have for romance?

For her, the virtue other women held dear was worth less than a single ink pill.

You Hu, too, harbored his own secret intentions. He wished that no man alive would ever dare covet Gu Fei, for only then could a woman so unbound, so calculating in her pursuit of vengeance, act without restraint. If Gu Fei grew strong, his own hopes could be fulfilled.

In short, at this moment, Gu Fei and You Hu’s interests aligned.

Thus, the “picture” Gu Fei had You Hu paint was distorted to the utmost; he nearly described her as a she-devil or a demoness.

Sure enough, once the leaflets were scattered, it took less than half a day for rumors about Gu Fei to spread throughout the city. Of course, You Hu hadn’t distributed all the sheets—only enough to set things in motion, letting word of mouth do the rest. He understood well how gossip could twist the truth. Soon, stories about Gu Fei took on a hundred different forms, some so extreme that even she found herself painted as utterly depraved.

In this climate, the very next morning, as soon as the Gu family’s shop opened, a number of self-righteous scholars and minor literati stormed in, demanding refunds for the ink pills. Gu Fei had anticipated this and instructed the staff not to argue—anyone wanting a refund was to be given their silver back, no questions asked.

This also gave her a chance to see if any within the shop harbored divided loyalties.

Sure enough, the usual troublemakers appeared.

Gu Fei and You Hu stood by the railing on the second floor, surveying the chaos below. Gu Fei’s sharp eyes immediately picked out the few who took their cues from a nondescript middle-aged man wandering about. Whenever they raised a fuss about the ink pills, they would unconsciously glance his way, growing more emboldened at his nod.

“Do you know who that is?” Gu Fei asked, pointing at the man.

You Hu’s eyes glinted. “A quick investigation will tell us.”

At that, Old Ma quietly slipped away, and Gu Fei signaled for You Hu to wheel her to the staircase.

Downstairs, Shang Quan was laboring to explain matters when he caught sight of Gu Fei. Alarmed, he hurried upstairs to report, “Miss, those men are here just to make trouble. How should we deal with them?”

A cold, disdainful smile tugged at Gu Fei’s lips. She looked down at the group, her tone lofty and dismissive. “Just now, I heard you gentlemen denigrate our ink pills as crude and worthless, claiming that the sandalwood fragrance dissipates completely after a day. Is that truly so?”

Their leader, a young man dressed in fine silk, feigning scholarly airs yet clearly weakened by a life of dissipation, stepped forward. Seeing Gu Fei speak and noting Shang Quan’s respectful manner, he guessed at her importance and declared, “Indeed! I journeyed from another province, drawn by your shop’s reputation. Yet the so-called fragrant ink I purchased lost its scent within days. When other ink masters examined it, they declared it crudely made, using inferior soot. I paid more than a hundred taels for this—utterly outrageous!”

Others quickly echoed his words, branding the Gu family’s name as fraudulent.

Gu Fei gave a cold laugh, choosing not to defend herself directly. Instead, she ordered Shang Quan, “Take my seal and summon Master Feng Puyu. Tell him his expertise is required to examine our ink pills in person.”

She then swept her gaze over the assembled crowd. “The innocent need not explain, and the guilty cannot be cleansed by words. I trust everyone believes in Master Feng Puyu’s reputation. Let him judge whether Gu family’s ink is genuine or inferior.”

Her words rang out with clarity and authority, each syllable as sharp as shattering ice, instantly intimidating the troublemakers.

But she was not finished. “Close the doors. Today, the Gu family will not conduct business—we owe everyone an explanation.”

You Er, for once quick-witted, understood his mistress’s intent to trap the culprits. He dashed down and barred the entrance with a heavy thud.

Gu Fei’s gaze drifted, seemingly casual, over the inconspicuous middle-aged man. A faint smile touched her lips; after all, it was for the sake of catching this dog that she had closed the doors. “Please be patient, everyone. Master Feng Puyu will be here shortly. Meanwhile, you are free to move about. If you grow hungry, tell our shopkeeper—food and wine from Dragon-Phoenix Pavilion will be provided. No one will go wanting.”

This generous offer quickly soothed the guests’ indignation.

“And for all present today, the Gu family will deduct twenty percent from your total bill,” Gu Fei added. This was her usual method—solving problems with silver.

To her, any matter that could be resolved with money was no real problem at all.

Sure enough, the troublemakers’ voices were quickly drowned out by the approving cheers of the other patrons.

Gu Fei signaled Shang Quan to tend to the guests, and You Hu wheeled her back into a private room. Only after closing the door did he ask, “What if Master Feng Puyu refuses to come? How will your play proceed then?”

At this, Gu Fei shot him a peculiar glance and took a slow sip of tea before replying, “Who told you I really sent for Master Feng Puyu?”

As if to further shock him, she added, “Master Feng Puyu would never come for someone like me. I could never summon him at will.”

You Hu fell silent, his expression darkening as he stared at Gu Fei.

She gave a faint smile, tapping the lid of her teacup so it rang with a clear note. “Master Feng Puyu won’t come, but his grandson, Feng Lizhi, certainly will.”

You Hu lowered his gaze, abstaining from comment or judgment on Feng Lizhi, and changed the subject instead. “That middle-aged man seems unfamiliar, not at all like a local of Yizhou.”

Gu Fei nodded thoughtfully. “We’ll know when Old Ma returns.”

As they spoke, the door was suddenly flung open. Old Ma staggered in, clutching her left shoulder, blood at the corner of her mouth—a clear sign she had been injured.