“Such a commotion—I'm guessing something went wrong at Prince Jing’s manor. The Black Yamen holds quite a few jianghu outlaws, and I’ve heard Mingyu Tower also keeps a lot of martial arts manuals. There are always some audacious thieves causing trouble over there, but usually things quiet down after an hour or so.”

Since it didn’t concern him, Henry Blake didn’t pay much attention and just kept drinking.

Martial artists can all hold their liquor, and the wine was of high quality—fragrant but not too strong. Even after most of the day, not a single person was drunk, and before they knew it, it was already afternoon.

After eating and drinking their fill, one of the lecherous bodyguards even hinted at going to a “red-light place” for the next round.

But William Brooks knew his limits. Listening to music and watching the girls was fine, but if he dared take the young master to a brothel, Mary would definitely throw them all out. In the end, he didn’t dare mention it to Henry Blake, and everyone went their separate ways.

As dusk fell, Henry Blake once again returned to Dyehouse Street with his horse and bird.

The silver note Mary gave today was an advance on a month’s wages—a hundred taels of silver, enough to rent a two-courtyard house. With some luck, he might even be able to buy a little maid to warm his bed at night for company.

Henry Blake wasn’t picky about where he lived, but he also wasn’t in the habit of suffering on purpose. After a whole day of rain, with such a big hole in the roof, there was no way he could stay there.

Henry Blake had come back now to pack up a few belongings and let the landlady know he’d be moving to a better place.

Creak—

The old courtyard gate, which had no lock, opened. Inside, nothing had changed.

Henry Blake tied his horse under the kitchen eaves, put away his umbrella, and entered the main house, talking to Tuan Tuan as he went:

“From now on, behave yourself. Don’t go burrowing into women’s arms for no reason…”

The bird acted as if it hadn’t heard, squatting on his shoulder and chirping:

“Jiji ji~…”

But in the next instant, both man and bird fell silent.

The house was bare, with hardly anything inside, so any change was immediately obvious—the hole in the roof had been covered with a rain cape.

But neither Henry Blake nor the bird noticed this; they just stared blankly at the bed.

Beneath the double bed, covered with a dark gray sheet, sat a neatly placed pair of green embroidered shoes with bamboo leaf patterns. On the bed sat a strange woman, her hair done up in a married woman’s bun, with a jade hairpin slanted through it. She looked like a young married lady.

Her skin was extremely fair, with beautiful almond-shaped eyes, brows like willow leaves in early spring, and cherry lips that were naturally rosy and full even without rouge. To call her a national beauty would be cliché—she looked more like a fox spirit repaying a debt in a country cottage, or a fairy who had married a mortal, with an ethereal beauty that seemed almost otherworldly.

She was wrapped in a light blue cloak, with only her fair hands visible, forming a mudra at her abdomen. Her posture was as still as ****, as if she was practicing some profound martial art. Beads of fragrant sweat dotted her forehead, and wisps of steam rose from her hair, as if she were burning with fever.

“Ji?”

The bird stood at Henry Blake’s feet, tilting its head to look under the bed, as if searching for a steamer.

Henry Blake was baffled, not even noticing the woman’s ethereal beauty, just wondering if he’d entered the wrong house.

But with a hole that big in the roof, there probably wasn’t another house like this in the capital.

“Miss?”

Henry Blake found his home occupied and wasn’t about to just turn around and leave. He called out from the doorway, but the woman didn’t respond. After a moment’s thought, he gripped his knife and walked toward the bed.

The bird shrank its head and peeked out from behind the door, looking terrified…

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Chapter 9: A Strange Encounter at Home

Step, step…

After just two steps, he was at the edge of the bed.

Henry Blake carefully observed—the woman didn’t move a muscle, not even breathing, as if she were a finely carved jade statue. Yet he could sense a faint warmth and subtle fragrance.

For a perfect, flawless, and mysterious young woman to suddenly appear in this bare house, it was easy to think of stories about “fox spirits, snail maidens, or the Seven Fairies.”

Henry Blake hesitated, then reached out to the beauty’s nose to check for breath—her breathing was barely perceptible, but rhythmic and hot. She wasn’t dead…

Seeing this, the bird plucked up its courage and hopped onto the woman’s shoulder, tilting its head to look at her, then pecked her cheek with its beak—waking her up.

The woman opened her eyes, revealing beautiful, cold almond-shaped eyes, and looked at the man and bird before her with a hint of chill.

“Ji!”

The bird shuddered in fright and quickly hid behind Henry Blake.

Henry Blake could feel the pressure in her gaze and quickly withdrew his hand, stepping back two paces:

“Miss, you…”

The woman said nothing and closed her eyes again.

??

Henry Blake was a bit confused, wondering—was she cultivating? Or had her acupoints been sealed…

Dragon knight…

Henry Blake didn’t know why that term popped into his head as he studied the woman.

Judging by her demeanor, she clearly didn’t want to be disturbed, and questioning her further would be inappropriate.

But this was his home—she was the cuckoo in the nest, and he, the owner, was just standing by. What was that about?

As Henry Blake hesitated, the sound of hurried footsteps came from the street outside the alley:

Step, step, step…

“Check over there…”