Chapter 95: Flower Messenger ◇

◎Lian'er, alas, I shall never see you again in this life! ◎

Upon a dusty, official road thirty leagues away from Lingnan, a thousand-strong detachment of elite soldiers marched on. At their center was a well-dressed young man riding a white horse.

The youth's brow was beaded with sweat, and faint red marks could be seen on his fair complexion, evidence of sunburn amidst the dust that had settled on him. He looked weary and disheveled, a picture of exhaustion.

He called for a halt.

The entourage halted their journey.

A devoted servant approached with a water flask and beef jerky, expressing his concern, "My Lord, please have some sustenance. We still have quite a distance to reach the inn."

The servant couldn't help but grind his teeth at the desolate landscape. This wasn't even southern China, yet it was already dreadfully barren. The previous inn they encountered had been abandoned due to long-term neglect.

The next one would likely be in the same state...

They were all rugged men accustomed to roughing it, but it was pitiful for the young lord who had fallen from grace. Once the cherished younger son of the noble Ru Yang Marquis, the younger brother of the esteemed Empress, and the young inspector of the Supreme Court! Now, he was the governor of this remote, uncivilized region in Lingnan!

Who in this world doesn't know that this land is infested with venomous creatures and miasma, its people fierce and ungovernable, with bandits as numerous as the hairs on an ox, poverty rampant, and arable land scarce? What accomplishments could one possibly achieve by taking office here?

Worse still, since the founding of our dynasty, no Governor has ever left this post unscathed!

All have perished in foreign lands, save for one who, it is said, survived only because he was too old to care about anything and his son married into a prominent local family.

The previous Governor passed away a year ago, yet no official in the court would accept the position, even if it meant giving up their career. The Ministry of Personnel was plagued with headaches all year round. Every individual appointed either claimed illness, resigned, or begged for connections to avoid the post.

In any case, the court couldn't do much about this region; sending a Governor was futile; it merely served as a declaration that this land belonged to them. So, let it linger.

It never occurred to anyone that this miserable assignment would fall upon their own pampered young lord, who had never known hardship.

He was doing just fine as the Junior Censor of the Supreme Court, and the Imperial Concubine's soon-to-be-born prince was almost due. Yet, at this crucial moment, the young lord was dispatched to the frontier.

It all boiled down to the intrigue within the harem. A new beauty had recently emerged, reportedly the daughter of a rural landowner, without rank or influence, but she had ensnared the Emperor's heart and stirred up trouble in the palace. This time, she aligned with the Empress to outmaneuver the Concubine. As a result, the blowback fell on the favorite younger brother of the Concubine.

The Father-in-Law spoke of it as a golden opportunity: a chance for the young and capable to shine, three years as Governor, followed by promotions, a promising future ahead – a great fortune for both the Ru Yang Marquis and the Imperial Concubine.

Indeed, in another place, with the young lord's status, he could effortlessly gain accolades and return to a higher rank. But where was he being sent now?

That was the infamous Southern Frontier! A place where one went but never returned, where the governor's appointment was like throwing a meat bun to a pack of hungry dogs, causing all officials in the imperial court to pale with fear at its mention – Lingnan!

Would he even survive his tenure here?

Was this an attempt to save his son's life by having him marry into a local family?

The young servant thought to himself, his eyes turning red with emotion.

Finishing his water, Li Xiang dismounted and casually threw the flask behind him. Surprisingly, his usually nimble personal attendant failed to catch it, and it clattered to the ground with a metallic ring.

Li Xiang turned back to see the servant with reddened eyes, his face filled with anxiety and distress.

A muscle twitched at the corner of Li Xiang's mouth. "What are you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking how unfortunate it is for Young Master to be sent to such a place. I don't know what the future holds for him..."

"How could Empress Concubine bear to do this!"

Li Xiang shot a sharp glance at him. "Don't mention my sister."

"Well, they've come, so what? I don't believe these common folk are that fierce, capable of devouring me?"

"Not only are the people fierce, but there are also bandits..."

"If there are bandits, we'll subdue them. I brought a thousand elite soldiers with me. How could we not defeat a mere bunch of bandits?"

No sooner had he finished speaking than a shower of arrows rained down from all directions. A group of masked men in rough clothing surrounded them.

Li Xiang drew his sword and struggled to fend off the onslaught of arrows.

This servant's cursed mouth, it seemed, had indeed spoken the truth. He mentioned bandits, and they appeared.

Li Xiang had assumed these were ordinary bandits, skilled in some basic martial arts. With a thousand elite soldiers at his disposal, how could he not overcome them?

After a short fight, he realized these were no ordinary bandits – they were madmen, like rabid dogs and wolves. They were swift and ruthless. In just a brief span, nearly half of his soldiers were lost, and several of his personal guards protecting him were either dead or injured. In that moment, Li Xiang found himself vulnerable. A nimble bandit suddenly swooped in from the side, thrusting his sword straight towards Li Xiang's face.

All thoughts fled from Li Xiang's mind. He believed his end was near, that he would die young on his way to his new post, without realizing his ambitions or fulfilling his love. With reddened eyes, he desperately cried out, "Lian'er! Lian'er, I'll never see you again! I didn't even get the chance to tell you..."

The sword suddenly changed its trajectory, piercing his shoulder.

Li Xiang lost consciousness.

---

Seizing the tail end of spring plowing, Yu Lian planted all the land she had purchased. The moderately fertile fields were sown with millet and wheat, while the less fertile ones were cultivated with barley. Though selling barley at market price might not be profitable, she contemplated using it for brewing alcohol, which would prove to be a lucrative business. The more, the better.

Barley, not being picky about soil, yielded significantly higher than fine grains like wheat and millet. It was indeed an adaptable and productive crop that won Yu Lian's favor.

Devoted to her landowning duties, she would often inspect the tenant farmers working in their fields, even arranging for barley tea to be brewed and distributed among them, much to their delight, as they affectionately addressed her as "Young Miss Landlady."

Yu Lian never bothered to clarify that legally, despite being unmarried, she was still a maiden, but not an innocent one. She was, in fact, a widow, albeit a rather proactive and unconventional one...

She surmised that the villagers of Shangyi referred to her as Miss Lian because they understood the circumstances of her marriage to Hua Ji. They avoided using his family name to avoid stirring up sadness, instead opting to call her "Miss," acknowledging that she was still technically an unmarried maiden.

Recalling a local custom, she remembered how her late mother-in-law, Mrs. Chen, was often referred to by the women of the village as "Woodenhead's wife." Typically, people would use a person's nickname followed by 'family's.' So, if they were to follow this custom with her, Hua Ji's nickname, which she recalled her grandmother mentioning was "Flower Child."

Wouldn't that be like calling her "Flower Child"?

At the thought of this nickname, a smile lit up her beautiful eyes, and she couldn't help but chuckle.

This little name was indeed rather endearing.

She strolled back home slowly. By the time she arrived, lunch had already been prepared. The whole family sat around the table to eat together. Today was unusual; Hua Zhan, her father-in-law, who was usually the family's biggest eater, and Zhu Ying, were both absent.

After asking everyone at the table, no one knew where they were. It was the twins who finally spoke up, "Master said he and Father went to the back mountain to practice swordsmanship."

The matriarch scolded playfully, "Not eating at noon and practicing with empty stomachs? They must be bored!"

Saying that, she dismissed the matter and simply told her granddaughter-in-law, daughter-in-law, and three children to enjoy their meal. After all, the two grown men weren't fools; they'd know to come back when hungry.

The family didn't think much of it, and Yu Lian wasn't surprised either. It was common for martial artists to enjoy practicing swordplay, often sparring on a whim. Especially since the beginning of the new year, her father-in-law seemed to have transformed, filled with even more vitality. He frequently sought out Zhu Ying to practice together.

In the small forest on the back mountain.

The two men sat side by side, opening a letter.

Zhu Ying glanced at the letter with a pout of grievance. Her master had forgotten about her with his father's return; there were no instructions for her, only messages for the Duke.

Hua Zhan frowned as he read, his expression remaining locked in a scowl. He sighed deeply, "Rebellious child."

He could understand why his eldest son didn't want him to reveal his survival to his daughter-in-law and the rest of the family. If he were in his shoes, he wouldn't want them to worry again before he was safely back. To give them hope just to dash it later - no one could bear that.

But his eldest son was unwilling to abandon his quest for revenge, planning to continue his struggle against the emperor and asking for three more years. How could anyone possibly overthrow an emperor with such power in just three years?

Granted, the empire was plagued with corruption, heavy taxes, greedy officials, and external threats, but it was still relatively peaceful. The current emperor was only in the third generation of his lineage, and based on historical patterns, the throne could conceivably be passed down for another three or four generations. Rarely did dynasties last so briefly...

Hua'er not only wanted to challenge a formidable force, but also defy fate itself. Did he truly not care about his family, about his wife?

Silently, he picked up Zhu Ying's sword and began slashing through the air in the forest like raindrops. Half an hour passed before he finally stopped. The once-verdant woods now stood barren.

Zhu Ying ventured cautiously, "Duke...?"

Hua Zhan let out a long sigh, "Do not write to them anymore. Treat Hua Ji as if he never existed."

With no way to reach his eldest son across vast distances, he would grant him these three years, pretending he was dead. In three years, if he should perish, Hua Zhan vowed to traverse mountains and rivers to retrieve his body, giving Lian'er some closure.

If he were still alive...

...and returned home...

Hua Zhan smiled bitterly and shook his head. How could that be possible?

He had prepared himself for the possibility of his eldest son's failure, and even for losing him once again. It didn't matter; this time, at least, he was mentally prepared, and could personally tend to his son's burial.

As for his daughter-in-law, he had long treated her as his own daughter. He would do everything in his power to compensate her for his son's ingratitude while he still drew breath. If he could find a worthy man to entrust her to, he would rejoice for her.

Until now, he had been unsure of Hua'er's feelings towards Lian'er. The recent letter made no mention of her at all.

He let out a deep sigh and said, "Let's go."

Only then did Zhu Ying come back to his senses, indignant. "How can Master be like this? How can Master forget Young Lady, when she was so good to him...!"

The journey back was filled with his endless complaints and curses. Upon returning, the two men drowned their sorrows in a pot of wine.