The silence of the General’s Manor at night was broken by a low curse.
The people in the manor climbed out of bed overnight.
Spies planted in the manor approached the source of the sound immediately.
The personal guards responsible for protecting the General’s Manor arrived quite fast, almost drawing their weapons.
Xie Yanzhou was the last to appear.
The macaw stood under the rain-shielding eaves, chest muscles bulging, staring at him with black-bean eyes as if despising his tardiness.
Among all the onlookers, Brother Strong flew over the fastest.
Xie Yanzhou: “…”
This bird seems a bit too smart. Wonder if it’s related to the tonic from back then.
Assassins wouldn’t shout, and with the Tao brothers guarding outside, there wouldn’t be any slip-ups.
When Xie Yanzhou put down his work and came to the courtyard, except for the bird, the servants and guards gathered there consciously made way.
The view instantly opened up.
Xie Yanzhou’s gaze moved slightly.
Two people stood in front, one emitting a gloomy aura, the other radiating “waking-up grumpiness,” separated by an archway.
The rain fell harder, shrouding the moonlight. In the shadows, one might think two malicious ghosts had drifted into the manor.
The steward holding a lantern reported to Xie Yanzhou immediately: “Not ghosts.”
“…”
The steward felt this report was very necessary.
Ahead, Rong Juan tilted his umbrella. Even the handle was red. Reflected by the rain into his eyes, this red made him look more vivid than a beautiful ghost in a storybook.
Gu Wen looked more like a scholar ghost, full of resentment, about to claim the life of this beautiful ghost.
Xie Yanzhou swept his gaze around, finally fixing it on Rong Juan’s face.
He suddenly became curious about what method the other party used to anger Gu Wen to this extent.
According to the Superintendent Bureau’s data, Gu Wen came from a poor family background and faced a lot of exclusion and hidden harm when he first arrived in the capital, but he always kept a friendly face toward everyone. Even when he was recently robbed like cargo, he remained calm on the same day.
At this moment, Gu Wen wasn’t smiling. His expression oozed the damp coldness of a rainy day as he finally spoke: “The story in the book…”
Listening to the words squeezed out through his gritted teeth, Rong Juan countered faintly: “Isn’t the story good?”
Don’t you know in your heart if it’s good or not?
The servants, including the steward, all silently cast understanding glances at Gu Wen.
The servants’ copying speed was limited.
The steward and others had to join in to help.
Spies sent by the palace and political enemies were even more active.
Most of them couldn’t get into detective stories, but the subsequent martial arts-related “Condor Heroes” and “Three Kingdoms” full of generals were read with relish.
Initially, these people did it for the mission. Later, they became attracted by the plot, fighting to copy it.
Then they were hurt off guard!
Characters in the book getting injured, dying of illness, dying in battle, etc.—not only was it heartbreaking to read, but they were also forced to write it out word by word.
The submitted work allowed no sloppiness. Sometimes, in a fit of anger, writing one wrong character meant starting over.
The steward responsible for copying the part where Yang Guo’s arm was cut off rewrote it three times, his heart aching with anger. But seeing Guo Jing’s family defending Xiangyang to the death, he admired such integrity, resulting in a sleepless night.
Now mentioned by Gu Wen, those distressing fragments uncontrollably surfaced in their minds.
They understood Gu Wen’s resentment too well!
Empathy!!
Just as everyone resonated emotionally with Gu Wen, a flat voice answered Rong Juan’s question: “It’s quite good.”
It was Xie Yanzhou.
His tone was the same as usual, purely stating a basic fact.
The entire courtyard suddenly fell silent; even the sound of dripping rain seemed to fade.
Gu Wen seemed to have heard something incredible. His neck turned stiffly bit by bit, confirming he saw no reluctance on Xie Yanzhou’s face.
Even Rong Juan’s sleepiness dissipated a bit.
He wasn’t surprised that Xie Yanzhou knew the content of the storybooks. When the servants copied them, they didn’t hide much; sometimes their hands were stained with ink.
He was surprised that Xie Yanzhou could finish reading these novels calmly and genuinely felt there was no problem.
Actually, Xie Yanzhou was busy daily and only read two stories.
People under the eaves have to bow their heads. Having just heard Xie Yanzhou’s perverted answer, Gu Wen was silent for a long time, finally calming down.
A moment later, his gaze was heavy as he looked at Rong Juan again: “Let’s talk.”
Rong Juan was too lazy to talk to him; he wanted to sleep! Not smashing the umbrella on him right now was only because Gu Wen’s exasperated look fit his initial purpose of sending the novels.
“Talk to him tomorrow at noon.” Xie Yanzhou’s voice suddenly came from the side, “I’ll ask Lord Kong to save you two more days of leave from the Ministry of Rites.”
Leave?
Rong Juan’s gaze instantly became amiable. Sick leave notes from the Imperial Academy of Medicine were getting harder to get.
Look, this is the attitude of asking someone to do something!
While nodding, he didn’t forget to leave Gu Wen a “look out for yourself” glance.
…
Gu Wen didn’t understand why Xie Yanzhou said to talk at noon.
Thirteen hours later, Gu Wen knew. Rong Juan had just gotten out of bed.
After washing up, Rong Juan didn’t talk business immediately but ate breakfast unhurriedly as usual. Come to think of it, he hadn’t dined with Xie Yanzhou for a few days; the latter seemed very busy recently.
Busy with what was unknown; hopefully busy harming the Right Prime Minister.
“I tried my best.” He suddenly shook his head.
Thinking about it carefully last night, Rong Juan guessed Xie Yanzhou probably hadn’t finished reading all the stories. He intended to remind him this noon not to read the end of the book, but unfortunately, Xie Yanzhou was in a meeting.
When Rong Juan left, he vaguely heard something about the Imperial Guard Commander.
He wasn’t interested in these things. After eating, he went leisurely to find Gu Wen.
Compared to Xie Yanzhou, who was immersed in official and military affairs daily, Gu Wen was more idle than heaven permitted.
When Rong Juan arrived, the other person was reviewing the detective novel. Clearly reading it unhappily, yet reading it repeatedly—wondering if it was desensitization or masochism.
Hearing the unsteady footsteps, Gu Wen looked away but didn’t put down the book.
Rong Juan sat opposite the stone table.
The tea emitted a fresh fragrance. The small canal surrounding the courtyard added a touch of coolness to the summer.
After being hung out to dry like dried vegetables for a few days, Gu Wen didn’t put on airs this time, discussing business politely with a smile.
He first apologized to Rong Juan for the racecourse incident.
“I truly didn’t know about startling the horse. I only fanned the flames a bit afterward.”
Rong Juan nodded casually.
A father killing his son wasn’t glorious, and Gu Wen had many schemes. The possibility of Cheap Dad informing him of such a secret beforehand was indeed small.
Apologies were just polite remarks. Rong Juan tapped his slender, white fingers on the table, hinting for the main point.
Gu Wen tactfully said, “Regarding my stay or leave, is my Lord willing to make a bet with me?”
Observing the micro-expressions opposite him, Gu Wen opened his naturally friendly eyes and said, “If my Lord wins, I am willing to change allegiance. Conversely, my Lord must let me go back.”
Rong Juan didn’t react much upon hearing this.
He kept Gu Wen, not intending to use him himself. The Superintendent Bureau would eventually find a way to make him bow his head, serving as a sharp blade to stab Cheap Dad in the future.
After all, one’s own people know best how to stab in the back. A student stabbing his teacher in the back must be interesting.
Keeping a venomous snake by his side meant guarding against it daily.
But he didn’t say anything immediately. Since Gu Wen dared to open his mouth, he should be confident in dispelling his concerns.
After a brief silence, the other side said further:
“As a retainer, it is inevitable to offend people daily, so I have always hidden my mother and sister in a safe place.”
The tea was rippled by blowing. Rong Juan paused in drinking tea, while Gu Wen maintained that smiling appearance.
He calmly handed over his own weakness: “If I serve my Lord in the future, I am willing to bring them all over.”
Rong Juan looked over with a faint smile, not commenting on this matter: “What do you want to bet?”
He paused, but there was no smile in his eyes: “If it’s related to exercise/sports, I’ll chop you.”
Gu Wen said seriously: “I have a senior brother with talents capable of handling heaven and earth. He was the one who recommended me to the Prime Minister’s door back then. If my Lord can persuade this person to become a retainer, this round counts as my Lord’s win.”
Seeming to know this was an unreasonable and difficult request, Gu Wen turned to mention that his senior brother’s promise was worth a thousand gold, emphasizing that with his help, Rong Juan wouldn’t need to worry much about future matters.
Free brain machine?
Gu Wen was quite accurate in judging people. Rong Juan, who tried every way to skip work daily, was indeed moved.
“Since his promise is worth a thousand gold, why would he betray his master?”
Gu Wen replied: “Senior Brother is just choosing a place to stay, not truly entering the world; otherwise, he wouldn’t have recommended me.”
He suddenly added: “Of course, before my Lord succeeds, you need to provide me with a storybook every three days.”
Circling around, it came back to books. So this was the goal.
Rong Juan raised an eyebrow and chuckled lightly. This Gu Wen really loved reading more than average.
Knowing he witnessed his breakdown last night, and wouldn’t send storybooks anymore, he asked this extreme egoist: “Why not ask for one every day?”
“I’m afraid of dying from anger.”
“…”
…
After a brief exchange, Rong Juan left the courtyard where Gu Wen was imprisoned.
Empty words were unbelievable; he needed to verify them one by one.
Xie Yanzhou was elusive today. No one was in the study now; his whereabouts were unknown.
However, the steward saw Rong Juan looking for someone and proactively stepped forward: “The General instructed before leaving that if you have anything, just tell me directly.”
Rong Juan: “Including asking the Superintendent Bureau to check Gu Wen’s information?”
The steward asked uncertainly: “Not killing or robbing?”
Rong Juan gave him a deep look.
The Superintendent Bureau’s efficiency in investigating people was top-notch. Relying on the steward’s message arrangement, Rong Juan soon got what he wanted.
The information was much more detailed than imagined. Descendants of exiles rarely lived well, and Gu Wen was no exception.
According to information from the Superintendent Bureau, Gu Wen was abandoned by his father during childhood and then lived with his mother and sister. As a teenager, to help his sister with her illness, he voluntarily sold himself into slavery and worked for a master family for many years.
The file did not specify the current whereabouts of his mother and sister.
The System sent a sleepy brainwave: [Don’t understand. Since he values his family so much, why use them as bargaining chips?]
Rong Juan didn’t care what Gu Wen thought, as long as it was useful.
Sent with the information was a letter, very scrawled, written by Bu San.
The letter contained only a few lines:
[Surprisingly, you made Gu Wen proactively offer conditions. The Superintendent was somewhat surprised upon learning this. Hearing you hooked Gu Wen through storybooks, the Chief Superintendent has specially ordered someone to copy and send a copy.]
Rong Juan: “…”
[Gu Wen’s senior brother is named Song Mingzhi. This person is arrogant. The Superintendent Bureau once tried to recruit him but was rejected. Later, he entered the Prime Minister’s manor and became Rong Hengsui’s retainer.]
Gu Wen’s willingness to serve as Rong Heng’s retainer was the result of repeated weighing. His senior brother, Song Mingzhi, was utterly different, treating the Prime Minister’s manor as an inn. Because he was unwilling to exert effort, he chose Rong Hengsui, who hadn’t entered officialdom yet.
However, just recommending Gu Wen to the Right Prime Minister for advice was enough for the Prime Minister’s manor to provide for him with good food and drink.
To put it bluntly, an intermediary collecting dividends in the ancient talent market.
[Also, did His Majesty really not promote you?]
The Dog Emperor was just greedy for life and afraid of death, not crazy. Promoting someone who went to the Prime Minister’s manor to rob people—Rong Juan laughed, “Someone come quickly.”
He couldn’t stand seeing these unlucky words now. He hurriedly asked the steward to bring willow branches to sprinkle water in the courtyard to drive away evil spirits.
Not forgetting to burn the letter, ensuring the words “promotion” were shattered to dust, Rong Juan pulled the rocking chair under the tree and ate two pieces of pastry to calm his nerves.
The word “official” poked his sore spot and also reminded Rong Juan.
When Hou Shen visited last time, he mentioned that after the celestial phenomenon, the Emperor had frequent nightmares and considered offering sacrifices to heaven.
Once the sacrifice to heaven was confirmed, the Ministry of Rites would be exceptionally busy. Any registered official in the office who still had a breath left would be dragged to work.
Usually, going there every three to five days to be a mascot raising flowers and walking birds was fine, but doing so at this juncture of sacrificing to heaven would be unjustifiable.
Laziness and increasing others’ workload were two different concepts.
If he could make both Gu Wen and Song Mingzhi serve him, it would be equivalent to having two extra brain machines, liberating his left and right brain. Anyway, once he outsourced the Ministry of Rites’ work, whether others found him pleasing to the eye or not had nothing to do with him.
“With Gu Wen defecting, the Right Prime Minister and his son lose a strategist. As one falls, the other rises, which is also beneficial to Xie Yanzhou’s side.”
Floating clouds drifted across the sky. Rong Juan waved his folding fan lightly, smiling as he said, “Good, good.”
This deal was simply too cost-effective. Now, only one question remained: how to make Song Mingzhi agree to serve him?
“Never mind. Hearing a hundred times is not as good as seeing once. I’ll go meet him first.”
With so many benefits, it was worth a trip.
…
A child with a home takes whatever he lacks from home.
After two cloudy days, the weather began to heat up vengefully today. The mink-furred BMW carriage couldn’t be used, and the sedan was stuffy. It was better to walk under the eaves himself comfortably.
When the sun wasn’t so intense, Rong Juan went out wearing a weimao (hat with a veil).
In this era, men rarely wore it unless traveling far.
For ventilation, Rong Juan fixed a gauze-like veil on both sides of the brim. Under the veil, his skin was cold and snowy, his face surpassing a hibiscus.
Not only was it not abrupt, but when the hot wind blew the veil, he appeared graceful and handsome. Strolling on the street, the head-turning rate was extremely high.
The Tao brothers followed him as usual, responsible for his safety.
Learning Rong Juan’s purpose this trip was to meet the Prime Minister’s manor’s retainer, Tao Yong reminded: “Seeing my Lord, they will definitely be vigilant. We can’t snatch anyone this time.”
Rong Juan sneered. What kind of person does everyone take me for?
Commoners on the street seized the moment to do the last business before curfew; cries of “selling” rose one after another.
Rong Juan was attracted by the seller of mung bean jelly. The jelly was bouncy, looking smooth and chewy at a glance.
Rong Juan’s throat moved: “How much?”
“Five wen a bowl.” The old man began preparing as he spoke. The seasoning process would increase the customer’s desire to buy.
Rong Juan repaid grievances with virtue, not forgetting to order a portion for the Tao brothers who framed him: “Three portions.”
“Alright!”
The clay pot could be taken away, but it would require an extra payment. Rong Juan naturally didn’t care about this little money, holding it ready to eat while walking.
“Immortal Jelly, five wen a portion—”
Bang.
Rong Juan’s hand slipped, and the jelly almost fell out.
The vibration of the knife handle slapping against the table was intense. Several clay pots rolled down and shattered on the ground.
The old man was startled and distressed about the pots, but upon seeing the comer wearing an official uniform, he trembled and dared not speak.
“The rule says no loud peddling in this district. Can’t you understand human language?”
This wasn’t actually an explicit rule, just a requirement because this district connected with the inner city, to prevent disturbing the wealthy people there.
The old man was fined. Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, he dug for copper coins.
Rong Juan stood aside, not immediately arguing with the sudden aggressor.
He resumed eating the jelly slowly, silently watching the unkind official in front of him.
Bearded, burly, wearing a cross-collar, large-sleeved robe, with a special token hanging at his waist.
Rong Juan recalled; if he remembered correctly, this person was the Imperial Guard Commander, who maintained order at the West Garden polo match.
Not long ago, when Xie Yanzhou was discussing matters, he mentioned the Imperial Guard Commander by name.
Rong Juan left before hearing the specific content.
…Should have listened a bit more if I knew.
Behind him, Tao Yong couldn’t stand it and was about to slip some money to the old man when Rong Juan’s wave stopped him.
He continued walking as if nothing had happened.
Tao Yong was anxious but was pressed down by Tao Wen.
An Imperial Guard Commander couldn’t be bored enough to specifically trouble vendors; he was clearly coming for them.
Helping afterward was fine; helping now would play right into the opponent’s hands.
Next, wherever Rong Juan went, Han Kui followed.
Rong Juan stopped: “Why is my Lord following me?”
Han Kui was very fat. When he smiled, the flesh on his face shook twice: “This official is responsible for maintaining the security of the capital, patrolling the streets normally.”
The word “security” was emphasized, revealing sarcasm in his words, clearly hinting at the kidnapping incident at the Prime Minister’s manor.
So he came to bark for his master (dad).
Rong Juan understood and continued walking toward the Prime Minister’s manor.
Everyone had an official position.
Han Kui didn’t make things difficult for Rong Juan on the way, specifically picking on roadside vendors. Even a sugar-coated haws seller’s equipment was confiscated by him.
System: [So stupid, using such childish means to support the Right Prime Minister.]
Rong Juan switched to the private chat channel and said leisurely, “He’s not stupid.”
Firstly, following openly made it inconvenient for him to do anything. Secondly, Han Kui probably wanted to use this method to ruin his reputation.
Commoners were only half-believing Gu Wen had been kidnapped. After all, the Emperor didn’t punish him heavily, and his reputation was still there.
But now innocent people suffered along with him. If he said nothing, everyone would inevitably feel chilled.
Conversely, once he spoke up to help, Han Kui would rely on his identity as Commander and his duty to bully the vendors even more.
Everyone would feel he might as well not have spoken, since it would have passed if he had just endured.
Human nature is like this; one cannot be too critical.
Calmly finishing the last bite of jelly, Rong Juan moved his body slightly, doing warm-up exercises.
The Tao brothers thought he was going to draw his sword and chop off heads, feeling a bit nervous.
That Han Kui was a martial artist!
Instructing the System to go AFK for a while, Rong Juan, having warmed up, threw a purse to Tao Yong, telling him to make up for the victims’ losses when the time was right later.
Then, Rong Juan looked coldly at Han Kui, who was fining and driving away a mother and daughter on the grounds of obstructing traffic.
He didn’t like a good reputation, but it didn’t mean he liked others destroying it.
Rong Juan opened his mouth, slowly extending an “Erkang hand” (reaching out hand), seemingly unable to stand it anymore and about to say something.
Seeing his goal achieved, a glint of cunning flashed in Han Kui’s eyes.
Rong Juan expressionless: “Pfft.”
He spat blood.
Han Kui: “…”
Compared to having his neck suddenly splattered with blood, what he wanted to scold more was: Which good person spits blood with a ‘pfft’ sound?!
The commoners were also shocked. They were miserable from Han Kui’s torment. Seeing Rong Juan walking with Han Kui as if nothing had happened, it was impossible not to feel anger toward him.
However, the next moment they saw this young man trying to speak up to stop it, but he was spitting blood before he could say a word.
As soon as the System went AFK, Rong Juan instantly became weak.
Next, every time Han Kui troubled a vendor, he said nothing, clutching his chest in anger, purely using the “control variable method” to spit out.
Trouble one, he spat one mouthful. Trouble two, he spat two mouthfuls.
Rong Juan was a “sprayer” for the first time, and it felt quite comfortable after spraying. The toxins accumulated from being forced to drink antidotes recently seemed to come out along with it.
Han Kui wiped the bloodstain from his lapel and shoved the obstructing merchant aside: “You!”
Rong Juan’s breath was erratic, and he spat another mouthful of blood.
The commoners saw his pale face, standing in front of the burly Han Kui like a weak bean sprout.
Again and again, blood spat out before words could be spoken.
For a time, everyone’s hearts clenched!
Author’s Note:
Unofficial History: The Emperor, for the people, raged so hard his crown lifted, spitting three liters of blood.
…
Note: For easy memory, remember Gu Wen (Advisor/Ask), Song Mingzhi (Understanding/Knowing), Ming Zhi Gu Wen (Asking while knowing the answer). As usual, no side CP in this text. [Heart]