Chapter Five: Fright (Please add to your favorites and vote)

The following days passed in utter tranquility. Hu Yihu visited several times, and seeing that Hu Mo's injuries had nearly healed, he ceased appearing at Hu Mo's little courtyard altogether. Hu Mo was well aware of this; the old man had long since stopped caring about him. If it hadn't been for this incident—Hu Mo's grave injuries—Hu Yihu would likely not have exchanged even a few words with him.

Each time Hu Yihu spoke with Hu Mo, he barely managed two sentences before Hu Mo's half-dead manner worked him into a near frenzy. Coupled with the trouble Hu Mo constantly stirred up, reckless and unruly as he was, Hu Yihu could hardly stand the sight of him. No wonder, even Hu Mo himself felt much the same now. Though he was no paragon of virtue, the mischief wrought by this fellow was beyond anything he could have imagined. Save for murder, Hu Mo had done just about everything else.

The most egregious incident was his brazen harassment of the imperial princess in the street. He nearly lost his life to the princess’s bodyguard and ultimately stirred up a commotion that reached Emperor Zhu Yan himself, nearly sending Hu Yihu into apoplexy.

Remembering this, Hu Mo couldn't help but admire the courage of his predecessor. Still, he thought, even when lust overtakes the mind, one should consider one's own safety. With those skinny arms and legs, to flirt with the famously headstrong princess of the Empire of Celestial Fire—wasn’t that openly courting death?

He mused privately: if he had a grandson like this, he’d have beaten him into submission long ago.

"Ah, it seems I must quickly make sense of my situation. This fellow is truly a magnet for disaster. I fear I’ve already shouldered countless blame on his behalf. Such ignorance and incompetence! Compared to him, my own conduct seems positively noble!"

Hu Mo sighed. In his previous lives, he’d been a bona fide street ruffian—neglected and unloved, committed many misdeeds, and was considered a scourge by those in his small town. Yet compared to this brother, he was but a minor villain before a major one.

While lost in thought, a procession of maids in white appeared before him, swaying gracefully as they moved away. Hu Mo could see only their slender backs; his eyes widened, and a flush rose in his cheeks.

He had to admit, it had been ages since he’d seen so many women.

In the world of Heavenly Dragon, during his time with the Star Sect, he’d only encountered the infamously cruel Azhi. Though Azhi was lovely and charming, with a stunning figure, who dared provoke that venomous scorpion? Hu Mo certainly had no wish to test his luck.

He licked his lips, his gaze tracing the undulating waists of the maids, their hips swaying like water serpents, tantalizing curves stirring waves before his eyes. No man could fail to feel a certain interest.

"Hey, hey, you all—wait a moment..."

"Young master, do you need something?" All the women turned simultaneously, calling out in unison.

In that instant, Hu Mo's expression turned ashen.

As the maids turned, it was like a comet colliding with the earth. He could never have imagined that these women, whose figures were so alluring, would possess such "distinctive" faces. Some were covered in pockmarks, others had cratered skin, bulbous noses, misaligned eyes, hare lips, blackened teeth—every manner of defect seemed to be represented. It was as if the world's "finest specimens" had been assembled here.

He could confidently say that even if Lady Feng were brought in, she would outshine these dozen maids. This exceeded the limits of any man's endurance. Hu Mo struggled to keep himself from retching.

"No... nothing, you may carry on..." His lecherous thoughts shattered instantly—this was more frightening than seeing a ghost at midnight.

Only after the maids departed did Hu Mo regain his composure. In his heart, he cursed the steward of the Hu residence a thousand times. What were they thinking in recruiting these people? It's tolerable by day, but at night, it would be terrifying!

"Damn steward, I swear I'll thrash you thoroughly and throw you out! Were you blind when hiring staff?" Hu Mo almost shouted his grievances. Moments before, he'd been about to eat breakfast, but now had lost all appetite.

"Young master, were you calling for this old servant?" An aged voice sounded suddenly at Hu Mo’s ear, startling him nearly into a cry.

When he recovered, he saw beside him a gaunt old man in grey, standing like a weathered stone statue, devoid of any presence.

Hu Mo’s mind spun, immediately recalling the details: Hu Fu, the steward of the Hu residence, known as Uncle Fu. He was once a trusted lieutenant under Hu Yihu, but after losing an arm, could no longer fight and thus became steward here for over thirty years.

"A soldier by trade—no wonder he stands out," Hu Mo thought in surprise, sensing a hint of danger from Uncle Fu. Near him, Hu Mo felt his own internal energy slow, as if suppressed.

Hu Mo was certain Uncle Fu's strength rivaled that of Ding Chunqiu from his previous life. For a steward to possess such power, his curiosity about this world only deepened.

His eyes fell on Uncle Fu's left arm; indeed, the grey sleeve hung empty, fluttering in the breeze, much like the great hero Yang Guo.

"Ah? Hero Yang—oh, no, Uncle Fu, good morning!" Hu Mo greeted politely with a faint smile, thinking to himself that if Uncle Fu had a hawk by his side, the resemblance would be uncanny.

Uncle Fu’s expression shifted slightly as he wondered, "What’s gotten into this little rascal today? He’s rambling and even greeted me. Did the injury damage his mind?"

"Uncle Fu, Uncle Fu, what are you thinking? You’re staring at me and making me nervous, haha..." Hu Mo noticed Uncle Fu's suspicious gaze and felt uneasy—he couldn’t stand men looking at him like that. It made him instinctively think of Ding Chunqiu’s notorious tendencies.

"Haha, it’s nothing—old age makes one prone to distraction. Tell me, young master, what did you want with me?" Uncle Fu smiled, regardless of how odd things seemed. At least it was better than the usual aggravation; his mood was much improved.

Hu Mo paused. He had indeed shouted earlier, but then he’d been threatening to expel the steward from the Hu residence—something he couldn’t voice now.

He weighed his words carefully and suddenly recalled something important.

"This steward is an expert, surely knowledgeable about martial arts. Why not seek his guidance?" Hu Mo thought, a smile forming on his lips.

"Uncle Fu, actually, I do have some questions for you, just minor things—I hope you won’t hesitate to advise me," Hu Mo said respectfully, as if a disciple consulting a master.

Uncle Fu was surprised. Hu Mo's chief interests had always been food, drink, and debauchery—could he really want advice on those matters?

"Please ask, young master. I will answer whatever I know," Uncle Fu replied, frowning slightly, wary of what this wastrel might inquire.

"Uncle Fu, it’s like this: I’d like to ask you about martial arts. Could you explain them to me in detail?" Hu Mo smiled gently and bowed respectfully to Uncle Fu.