Chapter 44: The Grand Portrait

Wang Keyue stepped out of the tent and called for Old Zhang, one of the newly admitted refugees on guard duty. These past few days had been more peaceful than any Old Zhang had ever experienced. In just these two short days under Young Master Wang’s leadership, Old Zhang felt it was the best decision he had ever made.

“Your humble servant Zhang Guisheng greets the young master!” Old Zhang said, dropping to his knees. Wang Keyue signaled for him to rise, and Hongyi, already familiar with her master’s temperament, quickly pulled Old Zhang up.

“Old Zhang, please sit. I have some questions for you,” Wang Keyue said, inviting him to take a seat.

Over the course of an hour, she summoned two others who had traveled with Old Zhang. She questioned them in detail about their home villages and the events along their journey.

After lunch, Wang Keyue called Hongyi and Chengyi to her side and began issuing instructions.

“In the next few days, I will need to leave for a while. The two of you will be responsible for the entire group in my absence,” Wang Keyue announced.

The two maids were surprised—where was their master going, and why? Though their minds swirled with questions, their years of servitude had taught them well: a master’s private affairs were not theirs to ask about.

So, they bowed their heads in unison and replied, “Yes, young master!”

“Hongyi, you must take charge of all logistics. Don’t be stingy with food—make sure everyone eats well. Also, the herbal concoctions I’ve prepared must be dispensed daily for three days to everyone, including the scholars. In addition, instruct Zhou Wen and Zhou Wu to train the guards thoroughly—no slacking off,” Wang Keyue instructed, one matter after another.

Hongyi cupped her fists, “Yes, young master!”

“Chengyi, these next few days, have the hunters and their wives teach you tracking techniques and terrain recognition. It will be useful in the future. Also, arrange for the team members to take turns on patrol—do not let down your guard!” Wang Keyue turned to Chengyi with further instructions.

Chengyi’s cheeks flushed slightly; her investigative skills were lacking, and she saw this as her chance to learn from the hunter couple. She nodded at once, “Yes, young master, I will study diligently!”

“I won’t be gone long, perhaps five or six days—at most, eight. If anyone grows unruly during this time, you have my permission to expel them from the group. Show no mercy if necessary,” Wang Keyue continued.

At these words, she glanced at the two maids, who immediately understood and nodded gravely. “Yes, young master! We understand!”

Wang Keyue then took out a small white porcelain vial from her robe.

“This is a secret family remedy handed down in the Wang family, called the Mighty Pill. In dire emergencies, you may take one. Even the weakest among you will gain the strength of an ox for twelve hours.”

It was the very bottle of Mighty Pills Wang Keyue had yet to use—twenty pills in all. She kept five for herself and handed the remaining fifteen to her maids. The thought of all these young women transformed into formidable warriors was both amusing and unsettling.

Hongyi and Chengyi exchanged glances, as if to confirm they hadn’t misheard. When they saw their master truly produce the white porcelain vial, they were momentarily speechless.

“Are you doubting me?” Wang Keyue’s tone hardened, laced with displeasure.

“We wouldn’t dare, young master!” Both maids bowed their heads at once.

“Enough. Hongyi, keep the medicine safe. It’s your lifeline,” Wang Keyue emphasized again.

“Rest assured, young master. I will protect everyone,” Hongyi promised solemnly.

With all instructions given, Wang Keyue feigned exhaustion and dismissed the two to their tasks, then ducked back into the tent.

Inside, she stacked some coarse grains, flour, and cassava, then purchased a hundred units of low-grade dried beast meat from the marketplace.

Once all the supplies were ready, Wang Keyue produced a masquerade mask—a magical mask she had obtained earlier, capable of transforming her appearance at will.

Following the instructions, she placed the mask over her face. Instantly, what had seemed a bit large shrank to fit perfectly, adhering to her skin like a second layer.

A virtual screen appeared before her eyes, displaying a three-dimensional image of her own face. With a thought, she altered her features: single eyelids, a flatter nose, fuller lips, sallow skin, deepened wrinkles, and long, white hair, eyebrows, and beard—perfect.

The mirror now reflected the image of a venerable, ethereal old man. She could even select a matching voice template—she chose one that sounded aged and authoritative.

Finally, she saved the appearance as “Character One.”

Now, Wang Keyue’s appearance was identical to Character One on the virtual screen. She closed the screen, changed into a blue, long-sleeved scholar’s robe tailored to her height, and, after a final glance in the mirror, nodded in satisfaction.

She checked her miniature crossbow, slung a wooden chest over her shoulder—inside were only some herbs, silver needles, and ceramic jars for appearance’s sake—and painted a large character for “Medic” on the chest, as if daring anyone to doubt her identity as a healer.