Chapter 236: The Azure Clouds (I)

Chapter 236: The Azure Clouds (I)

The transfer order and rewards arrived at the Tongzhou Prefectural Office on the same day.

The rewards were simple: a vermilion brocade robe and a hundred taels of snow-white silver.

Not a fortune, but still a token of imperial grace.

Le Wuya had always loved the color red, so he kept the robe and handed out the silver to the garrison soldiers, wrapping it in red envelopes and saying, "The emperor's bounty is for everyone."

As for compensation for the fallen and medicine money for the wounded, Le Wuya had already doubled it out of his own pocket.

This was the bonus.

When they got the money, the garrison soldiers only cheered for a moment before zoning out over the silver.

A couple of the young ones clutched their silver and broke down crying.

"You all got rocks in your heads?" Le Wuya, used to goodbyes, stayed pretty relaxed, pointing and cracking jokes, "Who cries after getting paid?"

Lu Ming was bawling the loudest: "We heard you're getting promoted, sir. We're... real happy."

They'd quietly found out that while the Chief Censor was the same fourth rank as a prefect, it was a real power post—overseeing all officials and touring the realm for the emperor.

But the capital had strict rules: officials there had hard caps on attendants, and civil officials could bring at most six servants.

These sons of military households were stuck at their posts, separated from their commander by a world of distance.

They were still young, not used to goodbyes.

Once they pledged loyalty to someone, it was for keeps.

Seeing the gloom hanging over everyone, Le Wuya tried to lighten the mood, teasing them: "Happy? Then why the long faces? What do you do when you're actually sad?"

Of course, that just made a few more of them cry.

"Sir!" Lu Ming suddenly wailed, "Can we come visit you?"

With him being such a crybaby, the whole yard broke down sobbing.

These guys, who'd charge into battle without flinching, were now bawling together: "Sir, we don't want you to go!"

These boys rarely got all mushy, and trained by Le Wuya to be tough as nails, once they started, they couldn't stop.

Le Wuya listened to the wailing, half annoyed, half amused, and put on a stern face: "What's with the waterworks? I can't bring you along, but you can come to me, right?"

That did the trick.

The soldiers stopped crying at once, all red-eyed, staring at Le Wuya like hopeful puppies.

Le Wuya said calmly: "Dayu has clear rules: three enemy heads or more counts as one military merit. I've already sent your merit records to the Governor's Office. Governor Ling's signed off—rewards are on the way."

A while back, Governor Ling Yingxun had ridden on Le Wuya's coattails, scoring an 'excellent' on his three-year review.

Before he'd even stopped gloating, Le Wuya had followed up with a great victory, herding the pirates who'd plagued Tongzhou for years into one spot and wiping them out in one go.

Now, he practically doted on Le Wuya—wouldn't say no to anything.

How could he possibly turn that down?

Le Wuya propped a foot on the stone step, his crimson robe snapping in the wind.

"You know what military merit gets you?" Before anyone could answer, he ticked off on his fingers: "It can make you a Centurion or a Chiliarch, let you sit the military exam for a post, or let you bow out with honor—" He traced an arc in the air with his finger, "—and head home with reward silver, to live easy as a rich man."

"A flower can bloom a hundred ways. The road ahead—your call."

"But your commander only moves forward."

Le Wuya suddenly broke into a brilliant smile, so bright and dazzling that none dared look directly at him: "I, Wen Ren Ming Ke, have never waited for anyone. Want to catch up?" He ran his thumb across the blade at his waist, "Then you'll have to earn it."

Le Wuya's talent for stirring hearts was truly second to none.

His words were like a spark landing in a vat of oil—all the tears of parting instantly turned into boiling blood.

The young men, who'd just been mired in sorrow, now had blazing fire burning in their eyes.

Someone was the first to clasp their fists in salute, and in an instant, the courtyard rang with the clatter of armor.

Their eyes all carried the same wish:

—They would stand by their commander's side, with heads held high.

In the shadow of the corridor pillars, Xiang Zhi Jie quietly watched the scene.

His luggage had long been packed, waiting only to bid farewell.

But when Le Wuya said "I have never waited for anyone," his slender fingers suddenly clenched at his sleeve, and beneath his lowered lashes, ambition surged like a dark tide.

Master only wanted the best.

Even second best would not do.

Then he would have to be the best.

"Xiaoliu."

Le Wuya's voice suddenly sounded close at hand.

When Xiang Zhi Jie looked up, he had already put on that harmless, gentle expression, even the curve of his lips perfectly warm.

"I thought you might also try that trick..." Le Wuya crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow with a smile, "...of slipping away without saying goodbye."

That "also" referred to Xiang Zhi Shi.

Ever since that conversation in the pavilion with Xiang Zhi Jie, Xiang Zhi Shi had left in haste without telling anyone.

That day, his final words to Xiang Zhi Jie had been—

"I want to hear it from him. ...I don't trust you."

But he clearly had no intention of listening to what Le Wuya had to say, and had dashed back to the capital like a startled hare.

Reining in his scattered thoughts, Xiang Zhi Jie said softly: "The rites between teacher and student cannot be abandoned. How would I dare leave without bidding farewell?"

Le Wuya saw through him without hesitation: "Dripping poison again, are we?"

At that, Xiang Zhi Jie pressed his lips together, somewhat chagrined.

He probably shouldn't have revealed his less-than-honorable side in front of his teacher so early.

...But such matters are better addressed sooner rather than later.

Since he'd been seen through, he wet his lips and said seriously, "Teacher, may I have a kiss?"

Le Wuya: "?"

Le Wuya: "No."

He felt he was gradually getting a read on Zhi Jie.

If he was vague, Zhi Jie would definitely find the opening and push his luck.

Le Wuya was curious to see how this gentleman would handle being turned down.

Sure enough, Zhi Jie froze for a second, as if he hadn't expected that answer.

Le Wuya watched him, taking his time, waiting to see what he'd do.

Zhi Jie thought for a moment, then crouched down, took Le Wuya's hand, and guided his warm fingertips to his own ear.

Just like that day, when he'd charged off to the deserted island to see Le Wuya, only to be so seasick he didn't know up from down.

To ease his dizziness, Le Wuya had rubbed his ears just like this, coaxing and calming him down.

The skin on the tips of Zhi Jie's ears was especially sensitive.

Even a light brush of fingertips could bring out a lovely flush of red.

After just two or three touches, his left ear was flushed bright red.

Zhi Jie's gaze remained fixed on Le Wuya's face, his look tender and intent.

Even if Le Wuya were slow, he could see what he was doing.

—He wanted Le Wuya to kiss him with his fingers.

And he answered with a kiss from his eyes.

Le Wuya didn't feel toyed with; instead, he smiled with delight.

Clever kid, and good at finding creative ways to get what he wanted.

He liked smart guys.

He reached out, pinched his hot earlobe, and tugged it down: "You little rascal, had enough?"

Zhi Jie honestly shook his head.

Le Wuya let out a snorting laugh, gave his ear a light twist, and said, "Go back to the capital. Wait for me."

Zhi Jie lowered his eyes, hiding the melancholy in them well.

He'd made such an audacious request because he knew the capital was full of eyes and ears, tangled like a spider's web, enough to drive anyone crazy.

When they met again in the capital, it would be hard to be this...

...unrestrained...

And the next moment, feeling the gentle strokes along the curve of his ear, Zhi Jie's otherwise orderly thoughts went to pieces.

Le Wuya lightly rubbed his earlobe twice, then moved his burning fingertips to his cheek, stroking the back of his fingers slowly and gently across his face.

"Don't be downcast," Le Wuya demanded with playful arrogance. "I don't like seeing you like this."

Zhi Jie got to his feet.

A thousand words, all condensed into one lovesick look.

"...Alright." He nodded, wanting to say more, but in that instant, the quiet, stuttering kid seemed to come alive within him again.

Not knowing what to say, he just looked at Le Wuya intently and repeated, "Alright."

If Teacher didn't like him being sad, then he'd be happy.

Even when they parted, he'd be happy.

...

Upon hearing the news of Le Wuya's further promotion, the old crew he'd brought from Nanting exchanged glances, quite astonished.

The biggest reaction came from Yang Zheng's wife.

"Why is he being promoted again?" she said with a sigh. "We only just planted the green beans at home."

Her words were rough, but she had a point.

At their lord's meteoric rise, Yang Zheng was both amused and a little uneasy.

He really was moving up too fast.

Yang Zheng had seen many minor officials who stayed in the same post for twenty or thirty years without ever moving up.

Many scholars, having mastered their skills and offered them to the emperor, ended up spending their entire careers in the position of an eighth-rank instructor, from the day they started to the day they died.

Since the founding of Dayu, the only one who had risen so quickly, besides that infamous, all-powerful minister, was their lord.

This made Yang Zheng, who always valued stability, worry for him.

In less than a year, what had their lord done?

He'd cleaned up the bureaucracy.

He'd looked after the people.

He'd promoted commerce and helped the artisans.

He'd wiped out the Japanese pirates...

When they'd arrived, Tongzhou had a faint stench of death about it, even in broad daylight.

Now, even at dusk, just before curfew, the city gates still bustled with crowds, the peddlers' poles empty, their faces all smiles.

The once half-abandoned docks now saw boats coming and going nonstop, and many people in Tongzhou could hear faint work chants in their dreams.

Though the people hadn't reached the point of leaving doors open at night or picking up lost items on the road, they could now walk slowly and talk loudly without fear of bandits stopping them.

At this thought, Yang Zheng suddenly laughed out loud, his heart felt lighter, and he thought no more of it.

If a man like this didn't get the recognition he deserved, and was left to waste away his years, that would be a real injustice.

"Ah..." his wife kept chattering on, "That bed of chives just got its first cutting..."

Yang Zheng smiled and said, "No matter. The soil up in the capital might be even richer, who knows?"

In contrast, the straightforward He Qingsong had no such complicated thoughts.

Upon hearing the good news, besides being blown away, all he could think of were cuss words that expressed admiration but were totally not fit for polite company.

He was struck dumb for a second, gulped, and asked Le Wuya a real down-to-earth question: "Sir, when do we set off?"

"Two things gotta happen first. One, the new Prefect has to show up and take over; two, Xiao Zhong's gotta come back," Le Wuya said. "You, Hua Rong, Old Yang, and Qin Xingyue hang back. Once the handover's done, I'll take Xiao Er up to the capital first to thank His Majesty."

His tone took a sly turn, ending on a cheerful note: "...so His Majesty doesn't think I, Wen Ren, like to act all high and mighty."

...

On the day Zhong Piaoping returned, a light drizzle was falling over the Tongzhou docks.

Qi Hongzhuang stood at the bow holding an umbrella, the hem of her crimson skirt flapping in the gusty river wind.

Ever since she got the maritime trade license, she'd been itching to sail those cloud-like seas and rivers.

Now, with garrison soldiers guarding and Zhong Piaoping accompanying her, she chose to travel by ship.

It should've been a smooth trip.

But who'd have guessed that by the time they got back, the Japanese pirates in Tongzhou would be completely wiped out?

And Prefect Wenren, who looked a lot like her dead younger brother, had pulled off a huge feat, made a name for himself, and was about to head to the capital for a new post.

They grabbed a window seat at Drunken Immortal Tower.

Qi Hongzhuang ordered a spread of seasonal dishes but just stared at the osmanthus cakes—the one thing that guy had loved the most back in the day.

Le Wuya grabbed one and got straight to the point: "Can you handle it without me?"

Qi Hongzhuang thought for a moment and replied, "Yes."

"Once I'm gone, Mu Jiazhi takes over command and training of the garrison. Sending soldiers to escort the ships stays the same as per our deal. This pact..." He paused, his voice firm, "will always be just between you and me, County Princess Qi."

"Good." She grabbed the wine jug, filled her cup to the rim, and clinked it against his. "Prefect Wenren, have a safe trip."

Seeing her cup totally full, Le Wuya said, surprised, "County Princess, mine's tea, you know."

"I know."

Qi Hongzhuang threw her head back and downed the whole cup in one go, the burn making her eyes water.

She showed him the empty cup: "This is my toast—you gotta drink it all to show you mean it."

Once the sting on her tongue faded, she set the cup down and said calmly, "The capital's full of storms. All I ask is that you stay safe and do well. If... things really don't go your way, don't push it—know when to step back. You can always come back to Tongzhou. No matter what, there'll always be a spot for you at my table."

Her words were steady and warm, just like an older sister's.

Around someone who'd take him as he was, Le Wuya always let himself cut loose a little more.

He grinned, his eyes crinkling into crescents: "I can't stand hardship or hard work. If I do nothing all day and just lie around mooching off you, will County Princess Qi still take me in?"

"...If you do nothing, then get out and go sleep in the stable."

After dropping that ruthless line, Qi Hongzhuang paused when she caught a look at his face.

The features so much like her old friend's softened her voice: "You can at least sweep the floor or do the dishes, right?"

Le Wuya laughed.

Just like when the garrison soldiers had blocked the prefectural gate demanding their back pay—in his toughest moments, Sister Qi had always had his back, no matter when, where, or why.

That was enough.

Thanks, Sister Qi.

...

As for the duo of Zong Yao and Mu Jiazhi, Le Wuya had full confidence in them.

Though Zong Yao's temperament had changed a lot from before, with a kinda eerie vibe, he was super diligent when it came to handling business. Paired with Mu Jiazhi's blunt nature, they fit together like yin and yang fish.

As for Zi Yongshou, his home was in Tongzhou, and with his sickly younger brother to look after, he obviously couldn't go with Le Wuya to the capital.

Worried Zi Yongshou still held a grudge against Mu Jiazhi, Le Wuya planned to hand him over to the new Prefect.

But out of the blue, that very morning, Zi Yongshou came to see him on his own.

"Sir." His fingers fiddled with the hem of his robe without thinking. "I'm really grateful for your care these past days, letting me look after my brother while doing my duties. I can't thank you enough."

"But lately..." He looked up, his eyes clear as glass. "I want to go back to Lord Mu's side."

Le Wuya raised an eyebrow slightly: "Oh?"

Zi Yongshou pressed his hand to his chest, where an old triangular paper talisman lay hidden, wrapped in several layers of transparent oil paper—this was what Mu Jiazhi had gotten when they were fellow students, after learning his brother was unwell, by going to the local City God Temple to pray for a health charm for both him and his brother.

Mu Jiazhi had always believed only in human determination overcoming fate and had no use for matters of spirits and gods.

But that man, with a scowl on his face, had shoved those two charms into his hands: "Take them! I hear they work pretty well. Saves you from taking leave every other day, and saves you from worrying yourself sick and ruining your health, delaying your studies!"

Pulling himself from the brief memory, Zi Yongshou offered a faint smile.

"As you said, Sir, we each have wronged the other. After this time apart, I've come to see things clearly."

Zi Yongshou pressed his hand over his heart and said sincerely, "Confucius said, 'Friends are those who help you grow in virtue.' Between friends, it's not about who's right or wrong—it's about the heart."

...

With all matters in Tongzhou settled, Le Wuya hummed a tune and sauntered into Zheng Miao's study.

Who would have thought this visit would land him an incredible windfall?

Le Wuya's eyes widened: "...You're really giving it to me?"

Zheng Miao didn't look up from the documents he was flipping through: "Don't want it?"

"Want it, want it, want it!"

Le Wuya jumped up and, mimicking Zheng Miao's manner, called out loudly: "Wang Cheng!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than that upright figure stood at the door, appearing as if summoned by word alone: "...Prefect Wenren, I'm here."

Le Wuya beamed with joy: "Captain Wang, pack your things—you're coming with me!"

Wang Cheng looked at Zheng Miao helplessly.

He had seen this kind of scene far too many times over the past six months or so.

But then, Zheng Miao raised a hand to press the bridge of his nose, let out a light sigh, and said, "Wang Cheng, go with him."

Wang Cheng was startled and went down on one knee: "My lord, I..."

Zheng Miao caught his wrist before he could continue: "You have done nothing wrong. Wang Cheng, precisely because you do everything perfectly, covering every detail, I'm entrusting him to you."

With that, he met Wang Cheng's gaze and issued his final order with the utmost seriousness and care: "Take care of him."

Wang Cheng took a deep breath and turned to face Le Wuya.

...This Prefect Wenren—who could win the heartfelt devotion of someone like Lord Zheng, and earn the admiration of someone like Jiang He.

What makes him so different?

Wang Cheng lowered his head: "Prefect Wenren, I'm young and inexperienced, with a lot still to learn. From now on... I hope you'll guide me."

Le Wuya was overjoyed, lunging forward to grab his hand: "Come on, come on—don't be so reluctant. Lord Zheng's place is your family home; I'll bring you back to visit whenever we get the chance!"

Zheng Miao, without a word, stood up to kick Le Wuya's backside.

But the moment his foot left the ground, Wang Cheng caught it firmly.

Wang Cheng said in a deliberate tone, "Lord Zheng, you can't do that."

"...Ha." Zheng Miao glared at him. "You little—"

Le Wuya seized the chance to hide behind Wang Cheng, sticking his tongue out at him, a sight that made you want to punch him.

Seeing this, Zheng Miao couldn't help recalling Le Wuya's absurd remark about Wang Cheng: "You could be committing murder and he'd hand you the shovel!"

Now that he thought about it, that bastard had a sharp eye for people.

...

Qi Wuhu spent his days working the fields, yet far from finding it a hardship, he found endless joy in it.

This old farmer-official, born from the yellow earth and raised on it, had been bound to the land all his life, as if possessed by an obsession, completely lost in it and unable to let it go.

Though spring plowing was over, there were still countless tasks to do in the fields.

Day after day he checked on the new seedlings, re-measured the irrigation channels, his mud-caked cloth shoes rarely ever crossing the county office threshold.

By the time the new prefect had been in office a few days, he only heard about Le Wuya's transfer from others.

That evening at dusk, Qi Wuhu crouched on a field ridge, ripping open the farewell letter Le Wuya had given him in the last light of the day.

The moment he unfolded the crumpled letter, he could almost hear the young man's voice, laced with laughter:

"Old man, remember when we first met at Prefect Lyu's place?"

"Back then, you were all skin and bones, yet when you cursed, you cursed with such fire. I thought to myself then—this old man willing to speak up for the people, he's really something."

"Later, watching you rush across the fields, Ming Ke often thought: how could such talent be wasted in a poor, barren mountain county?"

"People often say, 'The best warriors win without making a name for themselves'—that saying is the worst. You poured your heart and soul into Jinyuan County, working yourself to the bone, and barely managed to secure the people's harvest for one year."

"Ming Ke wants to see you achieve great things, and wants you to know what you could do in a different place."

"The lands south of the river are fertile, and the climate is pleasant. I grew up there, and I know it's good for farming and good for growing old."

"Brother Yingchen, you can let your talents loose here—just watch your step in the fields, and don't let the tools or carts crush you again."

"Spring plowing is busy, so Ming Ke doesn't dare disturb you. I only ask that you send me two bundles of rice ears every year, so I know you're healthy and strong, with full granaries."

"Respectfully yours, Wen Ren Ming Ke."

Qi Wuhu read the letter once, then read it again.

He raised a hand with knotted blue veins and quickly wiped a single cloudy old tear from the corner of his eye.

At the end of the field ridge, green rice seedlings swayed in the evening breeze.

"You little rascal... you've gone and left me behind."

Qi Wuhu scolded, chuckling, then folded the letter neatly and tucked it carefully into his breast pocket.

In the distance, frogs started croaking.

Leaning on his hoe, he stood up, and suddenly felt that the late-spring evening breeze was warm enough to make his eyes sting.

...

Ever since the day Le Wuya showed up at his door threatening him, Zhang Kai had been like a startled bird. He quietly packed his things, gathered his valuables, and fled Tongzhou with Steward Zhan and his son.

He planned to first hide out at the Zhan family's old estate, wait for the heat to die down, then have Steward Zhan secretly come back to sell off the property, so he could change his look and start over.

Fog hung over the river.

Zhang Kai, anxious and fidgety, urged the two hired boatmen to hurry up and load the boat.

The three heavy camphor-wood chests made the planks creak and groan, loudly piercing the stillness of the early morning.

What he didn't know was that under this seemingly ordinary fishing boat were several rusty Japanese swords.

Le Wuya had searched Tongzhou high and low.

But no matter how thoroughly he cleaned up, some low-level Japanese pirates had, seeing the tide turn, quickly changed their identities and gone back to their old jobs of ferrying and fishing, escaping the crackdown.

These days, they had been living in bitter hardship. Today, luck was with them—they had stumbled upon a fat mark.

When the boat got to the middle of the river, the old boatman suddenly grabbed an oar and, without a word, smashed it into the back of Zhang Kai's head.

The younger one drew a short knife; a flash of cold steel, and a spray of blood burst from Steward Zhan's throat.

Young Steward Zhan, panicking, opened his mouth to scream, but a Japanese sword ran straight through his chest.

The Zhan father and son were plainly dressed, with little worth stealing, but Zhang Kai was dressed richly, with all sorts of fine trinkets on him—worth a thorough search.

So the two river bandits hauled out the ballast stones, tied ropes around the ankles of Zhan Jia and his son, and quickly sank their bodies into the river.

As they worked, they chatted casually: "If Master Xi were here, this loot would've been turned into silver by now."

"Still thinking about Master Xi? He's probably rotting in a ditch somewhere!" The younger boatman spat on the deck. "To hell with fencing this stuff! With these three chests of treasure, we've got enough to live large in Linzhou. That prefect's got power, but his reach doesn't go that far!"

The two chatted away, completely unaware that Zhang Kai had regained consciousness through the pain and dizziness, gritted his teeth, and dove headfirst into the icy river water.

At night, the river water was like thousands of steel needles, chilling him straight to the marrow.

This pampered Master Zhang, like a withered leaf, was tossed and carried amidst the whirlpools and undercurrents.

A wave crashed over him, and he became a black dot, vanishing completely into the vast darkness of the night, leaving only the two bandits standing at the bow, stomping their feet in frustration and regret.

Zhang Kai had no memory of when he'd passed out.

When he awoke, the first thing he felt was a tearing pain all over his body.

Having been raised in luxury since childhood, he had never endured such bodily torment.

In sheer agony, before he even opened his eyes, a big tear slipped out.

He struggled to open his eyes, and he saw a group of traveling merchants.

It turned out that his fine brocade robe, soaked through, had become a makeshift life preserver, carrying him several miles downstream, until he was snagged on a shallow bank and hauled out by the merchants. Otherwise, Zhang Kai would have died for sure.

The merchants did not recognize Zhang Kai and asked where he came from and his name.

Zhang Kai, terrified and trembling, refused to answer any of their questions, pretending he didn't know anything.

Seeing the commotion, a traveling opera troupe camped by the river was also roused.

A handsome young dan performer strolled over, holding a flatbread in his hand.

He had come just to watch the excitement, but ended up locking eyes with the drenched Zhang Kai.

The young dan actor blurted out, "Hey, aren't you—"

Zhang Kai jerked his head up, his pupils shrinking.

Seeing his sudden change in expression, the young dan actor quickly cut himself off.

The traveling merchants, seeing that Zhang Kai remained silent and did not appear to be slow, grew wary, suspecting he might be a wanted criminal.

Seeing that he was no longer in danger, they went their separate ways to rest, leaving only the young dan actor by his side.

The young dan actor hesitated, then asked, "Mr. Zhang? Is it you?"

Zhang Kai lowered his head, hugged his knees, and said nothing.

That young dan actor had been invited to Zhang Kai's home to perform that day, hoping to win favor, but Zhang Kai was in a foul mood and berated him off the stage, humiliating him publicly.

Now, seeing Zhang Kai fallen so low, he felt a small, mean thrill.

But just for a second.

The troupe leader's words came back to him:

"Fate is set by heaven, but skill is your own."

"...Better than those immortals who know nothing of the mortal world—when they err, they're kicked down, knocked off their pedestal, left without even a means to survive."

Zhang Kai's face burned hot, as if thousands of ants were crawling under his skin.

He wished he could dig a hole and crawl into it.

He had no clue where he was.

His money was gone, his papers were gone, his uncle was useless, and his two loyal servants, the Zhangs—their fates unknown, with little hope of survival.

That house... his home...

This place seemed to be outside Tongzhou, unless he begged... begged...

He couldn't even stand to think those two words!

Just as despair was pulling him into a black pit, something heavy was pressed into Zhang Kai's palm.

The young dan actor shoved his flatbread into his hand and said, "Have a bite."

Eat something, so you can get home.

In that instant, Zhang Kai heard something snap in his mind.

Seeing Zhang Kai staring blankly at the flatbread with teeth marks on it, the young dan actor thought that even the rich, when fallen, were still human—and pathetic.

But his food for the night was only this one flatbread, so his kindness and pity had limits.

The young dan actor stood up and turned to leave.

But just a few steps later, a desperate howl rang out from behind him, scaring him so bad he nearly tripped.

He turned back in disbelief, only to see Zhang Kai let out another wild cry and hurl the flatbread into the surging river.

The young dan actor was speechless.

What the heck!

If you don't want it, give it back to me!

He had no idea that small act of kindness had become the final straw.

The only thing Zhang Kai could think was:

He had been pitied by the most contemptible person in the world?

A lowly actor, the scum of society?

Like a madman, Zhang Kai scrambled to his feet, drenched, laughing and crying at once, hair wild, barefoot, and ran off wildly, soon disappearing from sight.

...

Three days later, when Le Wuya and Yuan Zijin set out for the capital, they stopped for the night at an inn in a county in Prefect Qiao's territory.

At dinner, the table next to them was discussing a strange incident that happened recently on the county's north mountain.

"I heard that before he died, that madman tore his clothes into strips and braided them into a rope..."

"Exactly, hanging naked from the old locust tree on the north mountain, in just his underwear!"

"That fabric was really fine—the gold threads still sparkled in the sun!"

"Who would dare take it? That's bad luck!"

"I've heard he was a Master from neighboring Tongzhou, a Mr. Zhang. They say his uncle was convicted and thrown in prison. Come to think of it, he wasn't a good man either..."

Yuan Zijin seemed to catch on, and besides his surprise, he felt a nagging unease.

Could it be that Wen Ren Ming Ke angered him so much he went and hanged himself?

He quickly composed himself and shouted, "Waiter, we'll order!"

Meanwhile, Le Wuya, standing beside him, faced the northern part of the city, slowly taking a sip of tea, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of his lips, saying, "Waiter, do you know what the hardest yet most joyful thing in the world is?"

"...What?"

"To live," said Le Wuya. "Living brings countless hardships and endless difficulties. But it's only by living that you can get a chance to turn things around."

Take himself, for example—if Le Wuya weren't alive, how could he go to the capital to meet the emperor?

Author's note:

Yaya: Hehe.