After Transmigrating into a Novel, I Turned on Easy Mode - Chapter 5

“You’re really not going to the Hundred Flowers Banquet?”

“Mn. I’m not.”

Zhang Boyu frowned at Zhao Qingshu sitting across from him, a little surprised.

Then he snapped open his folding fan and smiled rakishly. “All the better. When Yingying and I get together, don’t you regret it.”

Zhao Qingshu’s face hardly changed. He lifted his tea and took a sip. “I won’t. If Yingying truly likes you, I’ll offer my blessing.”

With a snap, Zhang Boyu folded his fan and clicked his tongue. “You’re still so dull. You like her to death, but insist on acting like this.”

At that, Zhao Qingshu smiled. “You, my rival in love, are worrying on my behalf? And it’s freezing—aren’t you cold, fanning yourself like that?”

“I like it. It’s flair.” He paused. “How’s your meimei’s injury? Has she recovered? I bear some responsibility for that day.”

“It’s already fine. Don’t trouble yourself over it.”

Once his sister was mentioned, Zhao Qingshu’s worry returned in a rush.

Zhang Boyu looked at the gentle young lord before him. Seeing worry gradually cloud that face, he thought of Zhao Qingzi’s stabbing.

“Is it Qingzi that’s weighing on you? If it’s about Wu You, you needn’t care. That brat pestered me first, then claimed to like your sister. Give it some time and she’ll fancy someone else.”

“Ill-spoken,” Zhao Qingshu said, disapproving. “She is at least a young lady. Calling her a brat—what sense is that.”

Besides, it wasn’t Wu You that he truly feared—it was something wrong in his own sister.

His mind drifted back.

When their mother married down, their father had only been a scholar with some talent. To an ordinary family that was a blessing beyond compare; but Father’s ambitions lay in court. The identity of imperial son-in-law cut off his official prospects entirely.

Their mother used her power to force her happiness, and it might have looked like she got what she wanted—but the rest of her life’s misery flowed from it.

Zhao Qingshu had never expected fatherly love. Their mother worried herself sick, and when Qingzi was five she left the siblings behind and passed away.

That same year, a fierce fever nearly took his sister. She survived, but the feeling in her legs never returned.

He rejoiced she hadn’t left him as their mother had—and despaired that the path before her would be so cruel.

So he swore he would protect his sister.

Noticing the change in his expression, Zhang Boyu tossed the folded fan—thunk—squarely onto Zhao Qingshu’s head.

Startled, Zhao Qingshu snapped from his reverie. He glanced at the fan on the floor, then at the grinning culprit, and was about to scold him—

“All right, all right, don’t be mad. Your tea’s gone cold. If we sit any longer we’ll be scaring off the owner’s business—let’s get some air.”

Talking as he moved, Zhang Boyu scooped up the fan, slung an arm around Zhao Qingshu’s shoulders, and led him out of the private room.

They’d been eating at Tengyun Zhai as well. After leaving, they meant to head to Fujinyun to look around—since the banquet was approaching, Zhang Boyu wanted to buy a pretty piece of jewelry for his beloved.

The reason made Zhao Qingshu uncomfortable, but he couldn’t deny him and went along.

Fine, he thought. I’ll just buy some gifts for my sister. She’s been dressing up more lately—likely because there’s a lover now…
Still, dressing up isn’t a bad thing. Her hairpins have been the same few for years. It’s past time to add some.

They walked the main street: Zhang Boyu all sunshine; Zhao Qingshu the opposite—somber-faced like a creditor whose debtor had vanished.

The cries of peddlers filled the air, noisy and crowded. Disliking the clamor, Zhao Qingshu meant to quicken his pace when he caught a familiar name.

Zhang Boyu took a few steps and noticed no one followed. He turned to see Zhao Qingshu standing still by the street, listening to something.

He went back and patted his shoulder. “What is it?”

Zhao Qingshu started and replied blandly, “Nothing. Let’s go.”

—

These days, Wu You had racked her brains day and night over how to change the original plot and found no solution.

In the source, Zhao Qingzi bribed the soldiers guarding the banquet gate and smuggled in a famed female thief from the jianghu. The plan was for the thief to knock out Zhang Boyu, then seize the heroine Li Yingying, so that Zhao Qingshu could heroically rescue her.

But the plan went sideways. The thief had accepted the job not for money but for her own purpose: assassinating the emperor.

The banquet fell into chaos at once. Failing on the first strike, the thief fled decisively. The emperor flew into a rage and ordered a thorough investigation.

To shake off suspicion, Zhao Qingzi secretly eliminated everyone tied to her in this matter—down to their families, not sparing a single one.

The more Wu You thought, the worse her headache. The book skimped on this incident—the thief didn’t even have a name and never appeared again. It felt like a device purely to showcase the villain’s cold-blooded cruelty.

Still, the thief seemed to be the last to enter. Maybe I should just lie in wait?

The best fix would be keeping Zhao Qingshu from going at all. If I just beat him so badly he can’t get out of bed…

A shiver ran through her. Wow, what a death-seeking plan. If she crippled Zhao Qingshu, Zhao Qingzi would tear her apart!

That woman cares more for her gege than for herself—terminal brother complex, beyond rescue.

Then it’s lying in wait… Dumb as it is, I never claimed to be clever.

Having decided, Wu You set down her brush. Bored, she went to practice martial arts; after all, the mansion’s furnishings were spartan, and only the practice ground was lavish.

It made her want to complain: other people’s estates had flowers and trees and greenery. The General’s residence was… unique. Where others planted trees, they plowed fields. There were even farm tools.

No one seemed to tend anything; weeds ran wild. They said the general had managed it once, but work dragged him away. The young miss was the hands-off type; the servants lazy; it had all gone to seed.

At the practice ground, Wu You first checked the storage to see how many weapons the original had hoarded—and nearly got herself killed when she opened the door.

Could you not put things away properly, Original-You!!

Thank goodness the storage was small. If a big armory were piled like this, His Majesty might think you were plotting rebellion…

So much for taking inventory. She heaved the heap back inside and re-locked the door. Just as she turned to leave, her foot kicked something.

With a jingle, a dagger skittered far across the floor.

Missed one.

She picked it up and drew the sheath. The blade was pitch black, throwing prismatic gleams in the sunlight. She tested the balance—smooth in the hand. A fine weapon.

Small, perfect for a woman.

Yesterday she’d come up empty-handed for lack of funds. Why not gift this to her? Good for self-defense, too.

Though compared to Zhao Qingzi, the people plotting against her were the ones who needed defending from her…

Wu You liked the dagger herself and turned it over in her hands. Suddenly she noticed characters carved on the hilt. She rubbed it with her sleeve and peered—“Little Black.”

She rifled the inherited memories and found the name had been carved by the original. Pressing her forehead, she could only be speechless.

More digging turned up “Little Red,” “Little Blue,” “Little Green”…

She found a bright red box, wrapped the dagger, and set it on the table. Then she sat by the window and drifted off. It had been half a month since she’d fallen into this book. At first, lacking any sense of safety, she’d bolted door and windows, terrified Zhao Qingzi would take her life the moment she slipped.

Time had passed, and Zhao Qingzi hadn’t made a move. The edge of danger dulled a little.

Given another life, Wu You felt grateful. Sometimes she wondered where the original soul had gone. Why had she come here? Why her?

She thought of her family and friends in her previous life—would they shed tears at her passing?

Wu You had always been one to go with the flow, disliking strife and trouble. Her greatest wish had been to graduate, join a decent hospital, and live a steady life.

She chuckled. “And now look at me! Couldn’t be farther from the plan.”

She’d stepped into the trouble herself. As for Zhao Qingshu, Wu You envied him—he had a sister who loved him more than herself. A pity Zhao Qingzi used the wrong method.

Bored, she played with a strand of hair, eyes gleaming with a touch of yearning. When would she meet someone with a heart and eyes full only of her?

—

Meanwhile, preparations for the banquet were in full swing. Outside the grounds, soldiers, palace maids, and eunuchs bustled back and forth.

Some commoners stood at a distance to gawk—people love a spectacle everywhere. Among them stood a figure in a sedge hat; by build and carriage, a woman.

She was short—one could even say petite. Squeezing to the front of the crowd, she finally got a clear look at the distant scene.

Seeing such tight defenses before the event had even begun, annoyance flickered in her eyes. A “benefactor” had contacted her in secret, promising to help her get in.

But close to the banquet, they told her the plan was off—and even paid the originally promised fee. But I’m not here for money. I came for a life. What now?

Suddenly she spotted a water channel—likely leading to the inner lake of the venue. Her eyes lit up. Too narrow for most people, perhaps, but not a problem for her.

A vicious gleam flashed. Dog Emperor, watch me take your dog life!