Chapter 107: Returning Home

Chapter 107: Returning Home

Yuan Weiyan always had the final say at home.

Even if he ordered Yuan Zijin to take a hammer and smash it against his own crown, Yuan Zijin would not dare disobey.

Trembling, Yuan Zijin gripped the hammer with both hands, steeled himself, and set to work, smashing their gilded, jade-adorned red felt sedan chair to splinters in short order.

This was a real workout, and Yuan Zijin, unaccustomed to hard work after a life of ease, sweated buckets—yet he dared not utter a single complaint.

Yuan Weiyan's face was like frost, his heart like iron. Even when bits of the carriage bells flew up and hit his official hat, he didn't so much as flinch.

Once he confirmed the carriage was a total loss, he turned to Le Wuya and asked, "Magistrate Wenren, satisfied now?"

Le Wuya had been savoring the show, feeling thoroughly pleased. Rather than biting at his snide remark, he replied deferentially, "General Yuan is truly brilliant."

Yuan Weiyan's jabs kept hitting nothing but air, yet he showed no impatience or anger—on the contrary, he grew more and more intrigued. "Oh? What's so brilliant about me?"

"Blocking the official road, smashing the carriage to teach your son a lesson—from this day forth, word of your strict discipline at home will surely spread through the capital."

Le Wuya spoke smoothly and at length: "When other officials in the capital hear that a First-Rank Official like yourself, through a moment's carelessness, broke Dayu law and had to suffer such great loss of face, they'll surely feel a chill. With you as their warning, the officials of the capital won't dare put personal interests before their public duties."

While Le Wuya spoke, Yuan Weiyan sized him up carefully.

The little magistrate spoke with authority, every word landing with weight, cornering the market on being right. Judging by his looks, he seemed every inch the upright gentleman.

But no matter how Yuan Weiyan looked at him, this was a cunning young fox of a scoundrel.

Yuan Weiyan grinned, showing a big fang: "Well, well. Fancy Magistrate Wenren thinking so far ahead for me. This old codger hadn't even thought of all those advantages."

Le Wuya: "You're too kind."

As he spoke, Le Wuya glanced at the sedan chair, now just a battered roof on wheels, then smiled at Yuan Zijin, who was huffing and puffing, clutching a big hammer: "Master Yuan, need a hand cleaning this up?"

Yuan Zijin was now completely scared of him.

He couldn't figure it out—fine, the Sixth Prince protected him, that was one thing, but his father had come in all fired up to pick a fight with him, and somehow, after being hoodwinked by a few smooth words from this guy, he'd ended up smashing his own carriage with his own hands?

Yuan Zijin decided on his own that this man was crooked under a righteous front, not a good guy at all. He wouldn't talk to him, just gave his dad a pitiful look.

To his astonishment, his dad's elbow was bent so far outward it might as well have been on the other side of the world. With a dismissive wave: "You hear that? You made this mess—now clean it up yourself. You're not going to bother Magistrate Wenren, are you?"

Yuan Zijin had shot himself in the foot. Not daring to resist, he had no choice but to brave the increasingly brutal sun, scrambling on all fours, grimacing, dragging the shattered planks toward the weeds by the road.

While his son toiled miserably, Yuan Weiyan decided to lay his cards on the table: "Kid, spill it—what tricks did you pull to get the Sixth Prince to like you so much?"

"Tricks? I don't have any tricks." Le Wuya's eyes crinkled into a smile. "See? I didn't use any tricks on you, yet you kind of like me too, don't you?"

Yuan Weiyan: "..."

His rough nature itched to curse at Le Wuya, "Bullshit."

But he swallowed the words.

This man had brains, looks, guts, and smarts. On the attack, he could brandish the Dayu Law and run roughshod over the capital; on the defense, he could turn deliberate provocation into nothing.

...In short, he really didn't dislike this little magistrate.

Yuan Weiyan revised his opinion, deciding this man was nothing like that little Le brat.

That Le brat had always maintained that aloof, standoffish air, smiling at everyone yet cold to all.

He had never been so cheerful and insufferably cheeky.

Seeing that Yuan Zijin had cleared a path for him, Le Wuya clasped his hands in salute to Yuan Weiyan: "General Yuan, do you have a farewell drink to offer this humble official?"

Yuan Weiyan's voice remained stern and imposing, resonating from deep in his chest: "Still trying to wheedle a drink out of me? Not a chance. Get lost."

Le Wuya bowed with easy grace: "I take my leave."

Le Wuya turned and boarded the carriage, saying to the driver, "Let's go."

The driver, having overheard fragments of their conversation and knowing the roadblock had been set by a high-ranking official, did not dare give the reins free rein. Instead, he got down and led the horse on foot, passing the father and son with a respectful demeanor.

Le Wuya lifted the carriage curtain, clasped his hands once more toward Yuan Weiyan, then playfully winked at Yuan Zijin: Take care.

He knew that old curmudgeon's temper all too well.

Yuan Zijin, not understanding his goodwill, shuddered violently in the sunlight.

Clutching the hammer, he asked, "Father, without the carriage, how do we get back?"

Yuan Weiyan withdrew his gaze from watching Le Wuya's carriage depart: "We walk. What, did you expect to sprout wings and fly?"

Yuan Zijin rubbed his head: "...Oh."

Yuan Weiyan had seen enough of Le Wuya. He turned his gaze back to his own hapless son and immediately shut his eyes in distress, finding him almost too unsightly to behold.

He said, "Clench your teeth."

Yuan Zijin sensed something terrible coming and pleaded pitifully, "Father..."

Yuan Weiyan said no more, simply rolling up his right sleeve.

Seeing the situation was dire, Yuan Zijin obediently clamped his jaw shut.

Having confirmed there was no risk of knocking out his teeth with a single slap, Yuan Weiyan suddenly delivered a thunderous slap that sent him spinning in place before he tumbled to the ground in a heap.

While Yuan Zijin was still seeing stars, Yuan Weiyan hauled him up from the ground, grabbed the back of his sweaty neck, and stared at him with fierce tiger eyes: "I slapped you—do you think you deserved it?"

"I did." Yuan Zijin's eyes were brimming with tears. "It was your son... who caused trouble for Father..."

Yuan Weiyan said coldly, "I train troops at the capital's outskirts all year round. The moment I take my eyes off things at home, you go out raising hell. Do you think your father's position is as stable as a mountain? If the Emperor had decided to punish me today, your little affair would have been the excuse!"

Yuan Zijin's face burned fiercely. Without even touching it, he knew five clear finger marks had appeared on his left cheek.

His face throbbing with pain, he muttered, "Father, your son knows he was wrong."

Yuan Weiyan: "You are my son, and I protect my own, so I only gave you one slap. Of these five finger marks, two are for privately using official carriages and bullying others with your authority. Do you know what the other three are for?"

Yuan Zijin's soul had nearly been knocked loose by the slap. He thought groggily for a moment, then let his head droop: "Your son does not know. Please enlighten me, Father."

"They're for bullying the Le family!" Yuan Weiyan said coldly. "The Le family went to the battlefield and killed enemies. You can lie at home eating and shitting in comfort—part of that credit belongs to your father, and part belongs to the Le family!"

Yuan Zijin's tongue felt stiff as he tried to argue: "...B-but the Le family has fallen into decline... and that Le Youque..."

Yuan Weiyan saw that he had learned nothing and couldn't understand plain speech, and raised his right hand high again.

Yuan Zijin squeezed his eyes shut and jerked his neck in, a thoroughly pathetic coward.

Yuan Weiyan gazed at his second son’s pitiful state, and the longer he looked, the more disillusioned he grew.

He thrust his palm before Yuan Zijin’s face, raising two fingers. “I’ll give you two options. First: do something useful for your old man—I’ll secure you a position at the Imperial Academy under Le Huaijin.”

Yuan Zijin paled instantly and cried out, “Father—I choose the second! The second!”

“Choosing the second, are you?” Yuan Weiyan smirked smugly, flashing that prominent canine tooth. “…Don’t regret it.”

While Yuan Weiyan laid down the law with his heavy-handed paternal authority, Le Wuya and Wen Ren Yue had long since vanished.

As they climbed into the carriage, Le Wuya surreptitiously slipped the piece he’d been clutching in his left hand back into Wen Ren Yue’s bowl of white Go stones.

He patted Wen Ren Yue’s shoulder, intending to lecture him once more. “Did you catch what just happened?”

“I did,” Wen Ren Yue nodded. “…Brother Gu is quite the charmer.”

Le Wuya frowned at the off-topic reply and clicked his tongue in annoyance. He raised his hand to swat Wen Ren Yue’s head—only to pause when he saw Wen Ren Yue grinning at him, lips pursed, and realized: “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

Wen Ren Yue feigned innocence: “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Like hell you wouldn’t.” Le Wuya resorted to his old “thief” routine. “You stole my stone—and now you’ve got the nerve to deny it.”

Wen Ren Yue was utterly baffled: “I never did…”

Le Wuya picked up a black stone and, without the slightest trace of shame, placed it squarely on an empty spot on the board. “See? I remember it perfectly—I had a stone right here!”

Wen Ren Yue laughed helplessly and reached resignedly into the white-stone bowl—only to find a stone still faintly warm from someone’s touch.

He acted as though he hadn’t noticed, closing his right hand around it, absorbing its lingering warmth, feeling a profound sense of calm settle over him.

…

The carriage headed southwest.

Amid the tail end of autumn’s lingering heat, Le Wuya and Wen Ren Yue returned to Nanting County.

Thanks to Le Wuya’s meticulous preparations before departure, everything in Nanting ran remarkably smoothly.

Sun Ru, having been terrified half to death by Le Wuya on several occasions, had settled down and ceased causing trouble.

To be fair, if Deputy Magistrate Sun applied himself earnestly to his duties instead of scheming against others, he truly possessed a remarkable talent for generating revenue.

Though his standing in the county had diminished, he still wielded influence. He swiftly closed several deals, leasing out county office land to a group of outside merchants.

A new restaurant had opened, and construction on the theater progressed steadily—the foundation was complete, and it was slated to open before winter.

The Four Seas Tower, once unrivaled in town, now faced competition. Even its head chef grew competitive, devising several new dishes to rival those of the newcomer.

While the town bustled with construction, rural farming flourished just as vigorously.

Under Qi Hongzhuang’s guidance, the camellias thrived—already budding and poised to bloom.

The carefully selected tea plants adapted seamlessly to Nanting’s soil and water, taking root the moment they were planted. Now, tender new shoots burst forth from the branches; come October, when the weather cooled, they would reap an abundant harvest.

Le Wuya knew that for these tea leaves—fresh off the Ancient Tea Horse Road—to gain recognition and carve out a market niche, the key lay in capturing people’s attention.

So during his days in the capital, Le Wuya scoured the city, spending silver to commission a renowned calligrapher to inscribe the characters *Changting* (Long Pavilion).

He had the characters replicated and cast into molds, then tasked artisans with printing them onto bamboo lacquerware.

Lacquerware sealed tightly—if stored properly, the tea retained its fresh color even after a year.

Elegant and high-quality, it was ideal for gifting.

He entrusted this project to the Hu brothers.

Grateful to Le Wuya for transforming their lives—and earning a share of the profits—the Hu brothers approached the work with genuine care.

Before Le Wuya departed, he’d signed a contract with them. By the time he returned, they’d already delivered a batch of lacquerware, now stored in the county office warehouse.

Le Wuya dragged a small stool into the warehouse, sat down, and inhaled the faint, clean scent of bamboo. His eyes gleamed with unadulterated ambition.

His trip to the capital had clarified his path forward—and revealed his own heart.

He loved power more than he’d ever realized.

Tea, camellias, and the happiness of Nanting’s people—all served as capital for climbing the ladder.

He would return to court with his head held high—not through political maneuvering or backstabbing, but through tangible, substantive achievements.

He intended to have his cake and eat it too—he refused to settle for less.

…

Before Le Wuya could flesh out his plans in detail, Pei Mingqi returned from the capital.

His returning alone would have posed no problem for Le Wuya.

But he’d brought along a wretched-looking Yuan Zijin.

Pei Mingqi cut straight to the point: “He’s yours now.”

Le Wuya was momentarily speechless.

Because he’d never seen such a useless gift in his life.

He yanked Pei Mingqi aside and muttered, “What the hell are you dumping this good-for-nothing dandy on me for?”

Pei Mingqi replied bluntly, “Old Tiger Yuan asked me to bring him along to toughen him up in the army. But how the hell was I supposed to squeeze a big shot like him into my camp? I figured Qin Xingyue was already running the military office in Nanting—why not let him babysit the kid?”

Le Wuya listened to this so-called logic and found not a single word sensible. He retorted, “My place isn’t a temple—so why should yours be a shrine? Take him away—take him away—take him away!”

Pei Mingqi refused to budge.

Not only did he decline to leave—he insisted on staying overnight at the Nanting county office.

Yuan Zijin stood blankly, shrinking into a corner like a kicked puppy.

At first, when he’d followed Pei Mingqi toward the border, he’d felt utterly despondent, as though banished to the ends of the earth.

But he’d never imagined Pei Mingqi would dump him on Le Wuya’s doorstep.

And he certainly never imagined Pei Mingqi and Le Wuya would be so thick.

Yuan Zijin’s heart sank as he realized he hadn’t merely been exiled to the frontier—he’d fallen straight into a den of foxes.

Seeing that his stay at the Nanting county office was now inevitable, he quietly resolved to remain true to himself.

At the very least, he wouldn’t fall for Le Wuya’s tricks—as his father, the Sixth Prince, the Seventh Prince, and General Pei all had.