Pei Zhu had intended to step forward and tell Wei Ping not to bother collecting the old boots and such—they were filthy after so much use—but before he could lift a foot, the crowd surrounded him.
“Look, sir! We’ve driven the Hu away!”
“We’re amazing! Not any worse than the garrison in Youzhou!”
Cheers rang out nonstop. Many elderly villagers even wept tears of joy—they had never felt such satisfaction in their lives.
Pei Zhu smiled knowingly.
Among the Han people were plenty of capable fighters, and Yongning County’s residents were no weaker than the Hu. But all their lives, they had been constantly warned to be cautious and suppress their bravery, which explained why they had been so restrained until now. From today on, that would no longer be necessary.
Pei Zhu asked the village head he knew best, Luo Cunzheng: “Will you all return to your villages or stay in the city for a couple of nights and see how things go?”
The villagers exchanged glances: “Sir, we’ll return home.”
They had brought their rations and belongings—there was no way to store them in the city. With good weather for the next couple of days, if it rained, the food would spoil.
Since everyone agreed, Pei Zhu instructed them to be careful and temporarily organized a patrol force. These men would watch the Yanshan foothills day and night, reporting immediately to the county office and villages if any Hu appeared.
Village heads eagerly offered: “This isn’t just the county’s responsibility. Our men can patrol too, taking turns, and it will lighten your burden, sir.”
Under previous magistrates, officials wouldn’t have cared—they’d have had them patrol nonstop until exhaustion. But now, with Pei Zhu in charge, the villagers actually cared.
“We can’t let you or your men get overworked, sir.”
“Sir, if you need anything, just command us—we’ll give our lives for you!”
“You are the righteous magistrate of Yongning County; your affairs are ours too!”
Pei Zhu was buoyed by their words, feeling particularly heroic. No wonder people liked being officials—he now understood that feeling.
Since the villagers admired him so much, he resolved to solve their problems. Once the city walls were tidied up, Pei Zhu eagerly took the lead, personally driving a bullock cart to escort everyone back to their villages.
Zheng Xingcheng sneered: “You can drive a cart?”
Wei Ping, ever loyal, exclaimed: “Our magistrate can do anything!”
Zheng could only glare in silence.
The county office didn’t have this many carts; most were lent by slightly wealthier families in town. Yongning had no true rich families—owning two carts was already impressive, and a horse-drawn carriage would be extraordinary. Usually, these carts were treasured, but after the victory, the people fully trusted the county office, especially Pei Zhu, and lent them generously.
Zheng Xingcheng refused to join in and couldn’t bear to see Pei Zhu in such glory. He had never imagined they could win the battle, and yet they had—through such an unexpected turn.
He had asked about the dark substance they had used, but Wei Ping, utterly loyal to Pei Zhu, hadn’t revealed a word. Zheng firmly believed that one day, he would find a way to remove Pei Zhu, even if he couldn’t leave yet.
Pei Zhu drove the cart and glanced back at Zheng: “Zheng sir, are you coming?”
Zheng replied coldly: “No.”
Content, Pei Zhu continued with Wei Ping and Wang Chuo to escort the villagers.
He couldn’t stop smiling; it wasn’t arrogance—these people were just so flattering. They praised him as a prodigy.
Especially the clever use of the petroleum—they didn’t know what it was. Hearing Pei Zhu mention an ancient text inspired him to use it against the enemy. The villagers marveled at his knowledge, ingenuity, and cleverness. Thanks to him, they won the battle.
Pei Zhu scratched his head, feeling excellent, and lifted his chin: “This is nothing. Now that the Hu are driven off, good days await us!”
Before he finished, Wang Chuo pointed ahead: “Sir, perhaps first think about repairing the houses.”
Pei Zhu turned and fell silent.
The villagers’ smiles disappeared—they were stunned.
After crossing the Yanshan, the Hu had destroyed several homes in frustration at not finding what they wanted outside the city. Many roofs had collapsed. If repairs weren’t done soon, many would freeze this winter.
Just as they had solved the Hu threat, another challenge appeared.
The roofs needed repair, and winter wheat sowing was imminent—but where would the villagers get seeds?
Hearing that Pei Zhu planned to send county workers to repair houses, Zheng Xingcheng couldn’t even sneer: “Since when do county officials do such menial work? Sir, will you pay them extra? They can’t work for free; even laborers outside get paid.”
Zheng wasn’t worried for the workers—he simply wanted to make Pei Zhu’s life difficult.
Zhang Rusheng chimed in: “Right, the county’s funds have been used up.”
Wei Ping frowned: “Wasn’t there another sum?”
Pei Zhu’s eyes brightened: “Another sum? I didn’t know.”
Zheng’s face darkened: “That money has to be returned to Youzhou.”
Years ago, Yongning suffered drought; the county had no funds for relief. They borrowed money from Youzhou, which should have been repaid last month, but the handover delayed it. Using it now could mean years before repayment.
Zheng, still currying favor with Youzhou officials, warned Pei Zhu: “Everything else aside, that money cannot be touched.”
Pei Zhu’s eyes twinkled—he had a brilliant idea, but could not reveal it yet. If he did, Zheng would explode.
Wang Chuo merely smiled faintly at Zheng’s protest.
Zheng immediately seized the chance: “And that one there, he should be shown the door. No idlers in the office, especially someone with an unknown background.”
All eyes turned to Wang Chuo.
Wang still looked frail, though a bit more spirited now: “Yesterday, while ill, I did not explain myself. My name is Wang Chuo, courtesy name Wenqian. I am not from Yongning. I was born in Bazhou, though my ancestors hailed from here. My grandparents fled Yongning in the past.”
Pei Zhu thought: Bazhou wasn’t close, but Wang spoke with a slight Yongning accent—it seemed true.
Wang recounted his tragic life briefly: “I was a tutor for a wealthy Bazhou family. My student, an illegitimate son, was neglected and sent to a remote place managing worthless shops. Ambitious, he secretly returned to reclaim the main estate with our help and became the new head of the family.”
Zhang Rusheng asked eagerly: “Then why are you in such dire straits?”
“Fools—’when the cunning hare dies, the hound is cooked.’ Need I explain further?” Zheng mocked.
Wang bowed his head. That truth was not for everyone—many would have killed or exiled him along the way. He himself had been spared but had lost the will to survive, intending only to live out his remaining days quietly. Yet fate twisted, and he met Pei Zhu.
This young man was unlike his student: pure, naive, righteous, full of vitality. Wang, once resigned to death, now wanted to see where Yongning would go under this boy.
He wished to stay and watch.
Bowing, Wang said: “I was wronged and abandoned, possessing nothing but literacy skills. If the sir spares me, I will serve you loyally.”
Pei Zhu asked eagerly: “You can write?”
Wang clasped his hands behind his back: “A little.”
Zhang Rusheng scoffed: “A little? You’re showing off.”
Zheng Xingcheng sighed at this foolish subordinate.
Wang, sensing he was misunderstood, added modestly yet proudly: “I can write well enough, sir.”
Pei Zhu inhaled deeply: “And official documents?”
Wang adjusted: “I’ve studied them; standard correspondence is no problem.”
He had drafted imperial edicts—ordinary documents would be easy.
Pei Zhu was thrilled—this man had to stay. As a technical-minded magistrate, Pei Zhu couldn’t draft documents himself, but he could appoint a secretary.
Zheng and Zhang Rusheng couldn’t be trusted; Wei Ping was stretched thin. Wang Chuo’s arrival solved Pei Zhu’s urgent problem.
Seeing Pei Zhu’s excited expression, Zheng interrupted: “The office has no surplus funds. Hiring him will cost extra salary. I warn you—the office cannot afford it.”
Pei Zhu smiled kindly: “No worries, Zheng sir. I’ve got it figured out.”
Only a genius like him could come up with such a perfect plan. He could barely wait.
Zheng, realizing Pei Zhu was withholding details, left in frustration.
Once gone, Pei Zhu immediately summoned Wei Ping to investigate Zheng’s corruption. With Wei Ping’s hatred for Zheng, Pei Zhu trusted he had leverage.
Wei Ping’s eyes lit up: “Sir, you intend to punish Zheng Xingcheng?”
“No,” Pei Zhu said mysteriously. “I want to win him over. You’ll see tomorrow.”
Zheng Xingcheng: Is that how you win someone over?!