Raising Orphans, Not Assassins
Vol. 2 - Ch. 40 - Three Liters of Blood! The Debut of the Peacock Plume!

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Jianning Prefecture, Pucheng.

On the flagstone street, Hua Xiyue held a small porcelain bowl in her left hand. In it floated several white balls in a clear, savory broth.

These white balls were tofu dumplings—one of Pucheng’s famous street snacks.

With a tiny soup spoon in her right hand, she scooped one up and placed it in her mouth, slowly chewing.

The tofu dumpling was tender and fragrant, smooth to the point of slipping down like water. Its aroma lingered in the air.

Her curved eyes narrowed in delight, a look of bliss spreading across her charming face.

“So good…”

She couldn’t help but mutter softly.

Over the past month, she’d wandered all over Fujian—from Funing to Fuzhou—and now landed in Jianning.

She’d already tasted most of Fujian’s culinary offerings.

Once she was done with Pucheng, she planned to head to Zhejiang. The food there, too, was rumored to be excellent.

She strolled down the street, occasionally glancing at the shops to see if anything interesting caught her eye.

A weak and listless voice called out nearby.

“Come take a look… give it a try…”

“No charge if it’s wrong…”

Hua Xiyue followed the voice and saw a small street stall.

The stall was simple—just a wooden table with three bronze coins for divination and a bamboo fortune stick holder.

A tall banner stood beside the table, emblazoned with the words: Divine Insight, Guidance Through Confusion.

A young man in a gray Daoist robe lay sprawled across the table, the Taiji Eight Trigrams embroidered on his chest.

From the looks of it, business wasn’t exactly booming.

Hua Xiyue paused for a moment with her little bowl in hand, then sauntered over with a slight sway in her step.

“Hey! What’s your relation to Xuan Tongtian of the Shenji Sect?”

She stood in front of the table and asked in a crisp voice.

The young man who had been slumped over lazily suddenly widened his eyes and sat up straight, staring in surprise at this girl dressed in men’s clothes.

“You actually guessed my background?” Miao Fengyun’s eyes bulged with disbelief.

Hua Xiyue calmly scooped another tofu dumpling into her rosy lips, chewing as she spoke: “That’s not hard.”

“What’s your generation character?”

“Are you from the Miao generation or the Shen generation?”

“You even know that?” Miao Fengyun was stunned.

Hua Xiyue rolled her eyes. “Why the fuss?”

“I’m free right now—how about a reading?”

Miao Fengyun didn’t answer right away. He studied her carefully, which made her hair stand on end.

She gripped her spoon a little tighter and warned, “Hey! I’m telling you—don’t get any ideas!”

“Or I’ll make sure you regret it!”

Hua Xiyue’s threat hung in the air.

Miao Fengyun took a deeper look, sensing that this young lady had thick fortune and likely an unusual background. But nothing too extreme in her fate.

Should be safe to read.

He snapped back to the present and smiled. “Alright!”

“Since you’re interested, I’ll do a reading for you.”

He swept up the three coins from the table with a single motion.

With his eyes closed, he focused on sensing the heavenly energies.

“What would you like to ask?” he murmured.

Hua Xiyue, still holding her little bowl, pondered.

What should I ask?

Wealth?

Grandpa left behind a hoard of treasures. That’s not a concern.

Opportunities and luck?

Hmm… She had just entered the peak of the first rank last year. Breaking into the Grandmaster level wasn’t easy—it’d take time.

Reputation in the martial world?

She curled her lips at the thought of that unlucky fellow, Qiong Aohai.

After much thought, her eyes suddenly lit up.

Got it.

“Hey, help me divine—where’s the person fated to be my beloved?”

“Will I ever meet him?”

Miao Fengyun let out a slight chuckle.

What an interesting girl.

He cupped the coins in his hands, shaking them several times.

The coins clattered onto the table.

Before long, the sixth line of the hexagram revealed itself.

It was the Kan hexagram—one of the most dangerous among all.

The reading was clear.

Miao Fengyun frowned deeply, staring at the hexagram. “Hmm…”

“You do have a destined partner. The direction of fate is northeast—should be somewhere around Yuhang in Zhejiang.”

“But—”

He didn’t finish his sentence.

Hua Xiyue was still scooping up tofu dumplings, listening seriously.

Anyone from the Shenji Sect allowed to read fortunes outside must have real skills.

This young man was only in his twenties. To be allowed down the mountain already meant he was quite gifted.

She finished the last dumpling in her bowl, but Miao Fengyun still hadn’t said another word.

“Hey? What’s wrong with you?”

She waved her hand in front of his face.

Miao Fengyun finally snapped out of it and looked at her again—but now his expression had shifted to one of sheer horror.

And the next second, his face turned as white as paper.

A sense of dread rose in Hua Xiyue’s chest.

She immediately leapt backward several steps.

“Pffft!!”

Almost the moment she landed, Miao Fengyun spewed a massive fountain of blood.

A terrifying volume.

It shot up from his mouth like a geyser—several feet into the air.

Blood rained down on the table and the ground like a downpour.

Now that’s what you call coughing up three liters of blood.

His eyes glazed over. He raised a trembling finger toward Hua Xiyue and gasped a single word:

“You…”

And then his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed onto the table, unconscious.

Hua Xiyue, watching from a distance, was completely dumbfounded.

Her lips parted slightly, her beautiful face full of shock.

“Uh…”

“Just asking about my future lover is enough to violate Heaven’s secrets?”

She was utterly confused.

…

Yuhang County, Orphanage.

Chen Ye reclined in a bamboo chair, holding a leisure novel in his left hand and a plate of sliced fruit at his right.

In the courtyard, a row of small stools sat in a line. In front of each one was a wooden basin filled with water and laundry.

The older children of the orphanage sat on the stools, scrubbing clothes with their hands.

A maid stood across from them, teaching them how to wash properly.

The younger kids watched attentively from the side.

The most eye-catching was Xiaofu. Though only two years old, she insisted on washing her own clothes.

She sat in the center of the older kids, puffing her cheeks and working her tiny hands over her outerwear, her little face full of determination.

Chen Ye was training them to be self-sufficient. They couldn’t rely on maids for everything.

As more children arrived in the future, they’d need to pitch in and help too.

Light footsteps echoed from outside the courtyard.

Chen Ye put down his book. From the sound alone, he knew it was Xiao Lian returning.

Dressed in black with a veil over her face, Xiao Lian stepped briskly into the orphanage.

Her bright eyes shone with excitement.

Chen Ye could tell from her expression—the Peacock Plume was finished.

Her voice was cool, but her joy couldn’t be hidden. “Director!”

Chen Ye smiled faintly and stood, heading out of the courtyard.

As he passed Xiaofu, he patted her on the head.

Xiaofu looked up with a pure, childlike smile.

She was very happy.