Chapter 78: The Fragrance of Cinnabar

Gu Fei’s expression turned icy as she stared at the blood at the corner of Kumu’s mouth, gripping the armrest tightly.

You Hu strode over, closed the door firmly, and asked, “What happened here?”

Kumu sat down, loosening her grip from her left shoulder blade, revealing a blood hole the size of a fingertip seeping through her clothes, fresh blood flowing from the wound. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her face pale as she spoke, “It was that middle-aged man. I followed your instructions, Miss, intending to capture him and uncover the mastermind behind the scenes. But not only was he skilled, the moment he spoke, I heard it—he had the accent of Yunli. Caught off guard, I let him escape.”

“Yunli?” Gu Fei murmured, her brows knitting as her mind raced.

Suddenly, a masculine, handsome face flashed in her mind. She shook her head, unwilling to admit it, but the truth remained—of all the people she knew in Yunli, there was only him.

Clearly, You Hu was thinking the same. His gaze lingered on the wound in Kumu’s shoulder, and his voice grew cold. “Well, the claws of Yunli reach even into Great Yin now.”

Gu Fei didn’t wish to comment further on the political situation between the three kingdoms. She addressed Kumu, “Rest and tend to your wounds. I have my own plan for this matter.”

Kumu stood, taking a handkerchief from her bosom to staunch the bleeding, worry etched in her tone. “Miss, that man is dangerous. Please be careful.”

Gu Fei nodded, showing she understood. After Kumu left, Gu Fei sat in silence for a moment before asking You Hu, “The mastermind is still out of reach. You, the future top scholar versed in the classics, what will you do now to handle the aftermath?”

At the mention of this title, You Hu’s phoenix eyes curved in a smile. Hands clasped behind his back, he paced before Gu Fei with confidence. “Didn’t you send someone to invite Feng Lizhi? Once he arrives, he can dispel the rumors that threaten the Gu family. Though we haven’t caught the mastermind, severing their tail is painful enough. We’ll have peace for a while.”

Gu Fei raised an eyebrow. She’d intended to make things difficult for You Hu—after all, he hadn’t followed her orders to spread all the distorted rumors, instead lazily copying only a few to appease her. Fortunately, he still knew to find someone to circulate them. Had he ruined her plans, she’d have sent him away at once.

Both possessed sharp minds; You Hu knew Gu Fei was testing him. Though he often appeared to go against her wishes, he had the wisdom to know her limits, never crossing the line.

In truth, each was probing the other’s boundaries. Gu Fei sought to gauge You Hu’s abilities and trustworthiness, while You Hu operated within her rules, maximizing his own hidden gains.

It was a subtle relationship—like adversaries on a chessboard, forming a strong alliance outwardly, yet often clashing within. Neither was willing to yield easily; it all depended on whose tactics prevailed in the end.

As they exchanged words, their conversation seemed casual, yet both advanced cautiously, hoping to force the other into concession.

When Feng Lizhi arrived, it was at an impasse. Gu Fei couldn’t outmaneuver You Hu, nor could You Hu make Gu Fei relent. Both visibly relaxed at the newcomer’s appearance.

Gu Fei explained the situation at the Gu family’s shop to Feng Lizhi, who smiled and immediately took up his brush, swiftly writing a few lines in the style of his grandfather.

He beckoned Gu Fei to watch, then strode downstairs, standing in the main hall, tossing the paper in the face of the troublemakers. With a disdainful glance, he said, “Look closely. These words were penned by my grandfather himself for the Gu family shop. A bunch of fools wasting ink, pretending to understand what they do not. Did someone pay you to stir up trouble, hmm?”

Especially the final word—Feng Lizhi’s tone dragged out, his sharp arrogance making others feel diminished.

The young man causing trouble was nothing more than a pretender. His eyes darted about, searching for someone, but found none. Hearing that the writing was by Feng Puyu, he panicked, utterly lost.

Feng Lizhi snatched the ink treasure back, stepped forward, and single-handedly forced the group to retreat. “It’s people like you—ignorant and foolish—that hinder so many talented ink masters. Let me tell you plainly: the formula for this fragrant ink was personally witnessed by me as its creator refined it bit by bit. If the Gu family had it, they’d have been free of oppression from countless families long ago, and wouldn’t still be second-rate today.”

With this, Feng Lizhi’s eyes shone. He swept his gaze across the hall, his voice crisp and clear. “So? Now that the Gu family shop prospers, you’re jealous? I can’t stand those who have no skill and rely only on their tongues. If you have the ability, create your own formula and show us all.”

Feng Lizhi’s temperament was well known throughout Yizhou. When it came to ink-making, he always dealt with matters, not people. Proud and honest, he never lied—a fact was a fact, regardless of relationships.

Gu Fei had known this for a long time. Every time she interacted with Feng Lizhi, it was under the banner of ink. With her own expertise, she earned his respect, ensuring that whenever she needed him, he would help without hesitation.

This was her skill in winning hearts. Few could make Feng Lizhi open up to such a degree.

Thus, after Feng Lizhi spoke, no one dared mention rumors about the Gu family shop, nor did anyone doubt the origins of the formula. In Yizhou’s ink-making circles, his word carried weight, even if not as much as his grandfather’s.

Knowing when to stop, Gu Fei stepped in to smooth things over once Feng Lizhi had silenced everyone. As a woman in a wheelchair, she naturally inspired pity, her red-rimmed eyes full of stubborn resilience—accused yet refusing to yield, stirring shame in others.

She didn’t speak for herself, but stood by Second Master Gu Jiang, letting him dismiss the matter with ease.

Once the dust settled, she brought out the prepared ink balls, signaling Shang Quan to place them on a tray for all to see. “This is one variety of fragrant ink—Cinnabar Fragrance.”

The ink balls, smaller than a palm, were round, vivid cinnabar in color, adorned with a painting of Xi Shi washing silk, traced with gold. Their brilliant hues shone, and a faint osmanthus scent lingered—like the delicate fragrance of a young maiden, intoxicating.

Gu Fei excelled at making colored ink, though few knew this. She loved and mastered it, whether cinnabar red or graphite green, crafting them so beautifully that none could look away.

She kept this skill hidden at first, so she could continually introduce new creations, keeping collectors and scholars in anticipation. Thus, every ink ball exhibited by the Gu family would inspire longing to see its brilliance.

“This ink ball—cinnabar colored ink—is light and vivid, growing brighter with time. It contains a hint of osmanthus fragrance. Using it to paint, especially for portraits of ladies, imparts a unique charm. The first batch consists of only five pieces. Whether for collection or painting, please act quickly.” Gu Fei smiled, covering her lips with her sleeve, graceful and reserved.

As she expected, her words had barely finished when voices rang out, eager to reserve a piece.

Seeing her role done, Gu Fei remembered the matter of the poisoned ink. She coolly reminded Gu Jiang, “Father, now that the shop prospers, you should start preparing a generous dowry for Third Sister. Planning ahead is always wise.”

Gu Jiang paused, then nodded.

Gu Fei laughed softly, waved her hand, and signaled You Hu to escort her home.

Gu Jiang watched her figure recede into the distance. His face, pale from days of rest, was expressionless, his small, deep-set eyes as silent as an abyss.

Gu Fei resumed her research into poisoned ink. This time, she heeded You Hu’s advice—coming out for meals, resting without needing reminders, even finding time to feed the pair of koi in the water jar beneath the eaves.

After the storm at the Gu family shop, You Hu rarely stayed there. Most of his time was spent with a book of the classics, following Gu Fei into the ink room as she worked.

Neither spoke—a maker and a reader, neither bothering the other.

After two or three days, one evening as Gu Fei dined, You Hu sat with her at the table, unceremoniously claiming he was merely an advisor, not a servant, and need not observe the rules of the household.

She shot him a cold look, unable to drive him out, so she simply ignored him.

In the dim dusk, Second Master Gu Jiang paid a rare visit, clearly just returned from the shop, still in his dusty clothes.

Gu Fei was mildly surprised, though she didn’t show it, instead welcoming him with a warm smile to join her meal.

Unexpectedly, Gu Jiang shook his head, producing a raven-colored, simply patterned invitation from his bosom. “The Ink Merchants’ Guild delivered this to the shop today, addressed to you.”

You Hu, closest to Gu Jiang, took it and handed it to Gu Fei.

She touched the surface first, then calmly opened it. After a glance, the smile faded from her lips.

Gu Jiang, unwilling to linger at Qingmo Courtyard, left immediately after delivering the invitation.

You Hu watched Gu Fei’s expression, swallowing the last bite before asking, “What does the invitation say?”

Gu Fei tossed it to him and finished her meal in silence, wiping her mouth before wheeling herself away.

“Banquet at Dragon Phoenix Pavilion in three days, to welcome guests from the Great Capital…” You Hu read softly, his mouth curling into an amused smile.

Guests from the Great Capital—how rare.

He closed the invitation, flicked it with his finger, and his phoenix eyes shimmered with ripples. He glanced toward Gu Fei’s departing figure, murmuring to himself, “You must know someone among them…”

“Old friends reunited—how wonderful…”