Chapter 58#

The last time Wen Zhuo saw Wen Xu was ten years ago.#

Back then, Wen Xu had not yet become so arrogant, domineering, and deranged. At most, he was a spineless sycophant, skilled at reading people’s moods and clinging to their coattails like a timid shadow.

Now, this wretched creature, loathed by both men and dogs, had truly “grown up” and “made something of himself.”

Wen Zhuo sneered inwardly.

Perfect.

A first meeting like this, with such a “spectacular” performance, would serve as justification in Shen Zhi’s eyes for any ruthless methods he might later employ against the Wen family, preventing him from seeing through Wen Zhuo’s deeply concealed true nature.

When Shen Zhi heard the servant’s words, his heart indeed stirred slightly. He turned his head to glance at Wen Zhuo on his back.

He saw Wen Zhuo’s eyes narrowed, his dark pupils contracted into slits, his eyelashes still as the wings of a wild goose, while deep in his eyes, layers of dark, obscure emotions lurked.

So this was Wen Zhuo’s younger brother. No wonder there was a faint resemblance in the lines of their brows and eyes.

But that was all.

The air of refined nobility that Wen Zhuo carried, cultivated by years of immersion in classics and books, combined with his extraordinary insight into worldly affairs, was unparalleled.

In comparison, this younger brother was nothing more than a gaudy vase painted with gold and silver, filled with half a bottle of seawater that sloshed around with nothing but irritating empty echoes when shaken.

Shen Zhi mused to himself: When Wen Zhuo was eight years old, had he been living with this younger brother?

Could those two hideous burn scars on his thigh be related to this man?

Regardless, his relationship with this younger brother must have been far from good.

“What are you looking at?!” The servant’s coarse voice exploded like a cracked gong. His fierce, murderous eyes glared at the tall, towering Shen Zhi and the consumptive sick man on his back, who showed no discretion in clinging to him. “Where are you outsiders from, daring to offend our young master with such a gaze?”

In his words, even a single glance at that young master was a crime. Such arrogance outshone even an emperor’s.

The shopkeeper, who had been busy, quickly snapped to attention. He held up a rag as a shield between them, forcing a flattering smile onto his face. “Young master, please forgive them. These two are outsiders who came for the incense festival. They don’t know the local customs. You are a magnanimous man; please don’t lower yourself to their level.”

He secretly tugged at Shen Zhi’s sleeve, desperate to pull these two clueless outsiders away before they brought disaster upon themselves.

But Shen Zhi stood as firm as a mountain, unmoving.

Seeing this, the young master in the sedan chair suddenly straightened his back. He pulled a gilded folding fan from his sleeve and snapped it open, striking the head of the sedan-bearer—a young maid who was gritting her teeth under the weight.

The maid let out a low cry of pain, and the sedan chair slowly lowered to the ground.

“Which peddler is this, struck by some back-alley fortune, daring to play the big shot in Mianzhou?” Wen Xu said frivolously, waving his fan. The peonies painted on the fan exuded an incomparable arrogance. He pointed at Shen Zhi and Wen Zhuo. “Remember these two faces well. Not a single stick of Wen family incense will be sold to them. Let them come all this way for nothing, and return empty-handed!”

The servant took a closer look. Shen Zhi covered half his face with a black mask, revealing only a pair of eagle-sharp eyes. The frail sickly man on his back had a sallow complexion and an ugly mole on his face—easy enough to remember.

The shopkeeper broke into a cold sweat. He wasn’t worried about these two guests; he was afraid that Young Master Wen would take his anger out on the inn.

He began to plead earnestly: “Sir, listen to this humble man’s advice. Don’t provoke that young master. If you can’t buy Wen family incense, won’t this long, arduous journey of yours be wasted? Why bring trouble upon yourself?”

Shen Zhi was also weighing his options.

Their mission was to secretly investigate the disaster in Mianzhou. They hadn’t expected to run into this dissolute young man right after entering the city. If their identities were exposed, the Mianzhou prefect would surely tie them up with endless formalities and keep them from uncovering the truth.

Just then, Wen Zhuo on his back tilted his head slightly. His breath, like orchid fragrance, brushed against Shen Zhi’s ear as he whispered, “Your Highness, do you wish to save that old man?”

Shen Zhi lowered his gaze and saw that the old man had been trampled to the point of near death, blood and foam oozing from his mouth and nose. It was unclear whether his internal organs were damaged.

He said in a deep voice, “I do!”

This was his simple, straightforward values. Even if it conflicted with their original plan, he could not bear to see a life vanish before his eyes.

“Very well, I will help Your Highness save him.” Wen Zhuo gave a light laugh, revealing a row of white teeth that stood out starkly against his sallow skin. He raised a hand and patted Shen Zhi’s shoulder, signaling him to put him down.

Shen Zhi crouched slightly and carefully set him on the ground.

When Wen Zhuo landed, his steps were slightly stiff, but he calmly straightened his sleeves and walked unhurriedly toward Wen Xu.

There were two stone steps at the entrance of the inn, slightly higher than the street. Wen Zhuo stood on the steps, looking down at Wen Xu from a height.

After all, he had held the position of Chancellor of the Hanlin Academy for a long time. Those who came to seek his audience were always high-ranking officials, aristocrats, and royalty. As a result, he exuded a natural aura of authority, a world apart from the timid, oppressed child he had been ten years ago.

Wen Zhuo flicked his sleeves, clasped his hands behind his back, and spoke in a tone neither hot nor cold: “And which obscure little household is this ‘Wen family,’ daring to act insolently before my Liu family of the capital?”

“The Liu family of the capital?” Wen Xu was taken aback. He was never one for learning—ignorant and utterly empty-headed. He didn’t care whether it was the Liu family of the capital or the Liu family of Mianzhou; he held none of them in his eyes.

He immediately snapped his fan shut and snorted through his nose: “Some damned Liu family—I’ve never heard of them! In the territory of Mianzhou, the Wen family is the law!”

Wen Zhuo laughed scornfully, his eyes dripping with mockery: “You’ve never heard of the Liu family? Then surely you know the surname of the late empress, mother of the present Prince Xian?”

At the mention of Prince Xian, Wen Xu finally showed some wariness.

As reckless as he was, he knew that most of the profits these incense merchants earned had to be siphoned off under the guise of tribute into the pocket of that Prince Xian.

The sound of that extorted silver made one’s heart ache.

His father, Wen Yingjing, had gone to great lengths to curry favor with Prince Xian, squeezing out other incense merchants to monopolize Mianzhou’s incense market.

Eventually, through the connection of the Mianzhou prefect, he managed to invite the Prince Xian’s mansion’s granary official for a feast.

At the banquet, every trick in the book was used. Famous courtesans brought all the way from Nanzhou, pearls fished from the sea, and finally, a direct offering of fifty thousand taels of silver.

The granary official’s eyes went wide. He fondled the silver over and over, drooled at the courtesans, yet, despite his greed, he remained slippery as an eel. He just smiled and said to Wen Yingjing: “Our prince seeks long-term peace and long-term prosperity, not a one-time deal that will land us all in trouble later on.”

The meaning was clear: Prince Xian wanted to harvest Mianzhou heavily year after year, but not let them die out completely—like leeks in the field, cut down time and again to feed his endless cravings.

Before leaving, that granary official had even hinted: “People need to know their place. A fat rat dreaming of soaring with a roc—he ought to look at himself first and see if he measures up.”

Wen Yingjing, who was so revered locally, turned green at the words but still had to force a smile and respectfully see the granary official off.

From then on, the Wen family understood: no matter how much wealth one accumulated, it could never match power. No matter how much they hoarded, when power reached out, they had to hand it over.

Though the Wen family lorded it over Mianzhou—even the county magistrate had to show them some respect—in front of a mere ninth-rank granary official from Prince Xian’s mansion, they were less than nothing.

So they remembered that the Wen family did have someone who had made it—a big official in the imperial court, and one doing rather well at that.

Thus, in the past two years, Wen Yingjing had been using Wen Zhuo’s banner to bully his way through the officials of Mianzhou Prefecture.

Wen Xu now took another look at Wen Zhuo. The man was plainly dressed, wearing no jade pendants, but the cut and workmanship of his robes were exceptionally fine, unlike anything an ordinary person could wear.

If Wen Xu had not been steeped in gold, silver, and jewels all his life, he might not have recognized this.

Moreover, despite the sickly look and the jarring black mole, the man’s brows and eyes carried an intimidating dignity that made one’s heart tighten and inexplicably tremble.

He couldn’t quite articulate it, but this aura of high position could not be bought with any amount of silver.

Yet Wen Xu had been domineering in Mianzhou for so many years. He had never backed down in front of anyone. So he raised his eyelids and blustered: “Just because you say ‘Liu family of the capital,’ does that make it true? Looks like a charlatan’s trick to me!”

The diners in the inn, who had been burying their heads and avoiding trouble, now lifted their heads one by one. By pretending to sip tea or adjust their clothes, they stole glances at the scene.

It was rare to see someone dare to defy the Wen family in Mianzhou. This had to be no ordinary person. Many had already half-believed in his claims.

As the saying goes, “every rank crushes the one below.” When gods fight in heaven, the common folk love to watch.

“Just now, you claimed to be the younger brother of the Chancellor of the Hanlin Academy. I have some connections with the Hanlin Academy, yet I have never heard the Chancellor mention having any living relatives. You spout nonsense here—could it be that you want to slander a court official’s reputation while peddling your fraud?” Wen Zhuo had been speaking slowly and deliberately at first, but toward the end, his tone suddenly turned harsh, startling a shiver out of Wen Xu.

Wen Xu’s heart quailed. Of course, he knew that when Wen Zhuo had left his hometown to take the imperial examinations, he had long since cut ties with the Wen family. If it weren’t for the Great Qian law requiring that a person immediately “hear of the death and hasten home” to observe three years of mourning upon the passing of a parent, Wen Zhuo would have found an excuse to slaughter their entire family long ago.

This man’s words sounded exactly like the truth!

“You’re lying! The Chancellor of the Hanlin Academy is my own mother’s son! I think you’re the one spreading heresy!” Wen Xu had even forgotten to wave his fan. His voice shot up, but the more fierce he tried to sound, the more it revealed his lack of conviction.

Wen Zhuo, on the other hand, grew even calmer. A cold smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “In the fourteenth year of Shunyuan, the Chancellor placed second in the palace examination. According to ancestral clan customs, he was required to return to his hometown to honor his ancestors, sweep their graves, and pay respects to his relatives. Allow me to ask this ‘younger brother’—did he ever return to Mianzhou that year?”

“That—!” Wen Xu’s voice caught in his throat. He stared at Wen Zhuo with utter astonishment.

The fact that Wen Zhuo had not returned to his hometown that year was known only to the Wen family in Liangping County and to those in the capital who were close to Wen Zhuo. Who else could possibly know?!

His belief in Wen Zhuo’s identity had already reached seventy or eighty percent. The arrogant flame that had burned so fiercely earlier was now thoroughly dampened.

Wen Zhuo condescended to step down from the stairs, closing half a step. His voice dropped very low, yet every word was crystal clear: “You said you won’t sell me any incense. Have you forgotten which government gate your ‘precious goods’ are kneeling to offer each year? Refusing the Liu family—are you thinking of rebelling?”

All of Prince Xian’s illicit tribute and money-laundering businesses were conducted under the names of various Liu family branches. These people would neither be directly linked to him nor could they be relied upon too heavily.

Wen Xu’s heart gave a lurch. His face turned instantly pale.

Where did Mianzhou’s “substandard” tribute articles go each year? Even the Jade Emperor probably didn’t know. If this man wasn’t part of that profit chain, there was no way he could be so informed!

Since he was part of the chain, he had to be a trusted member of the Liu family!

Wen Xu was overcome with regret.

He simply couldn’t understand why someone from the Liu family would travel all the way to this small Mianzhou place for an incense festival.

Although the Wen family had indeed held back some rare items from this year’s festival and not sent them to the capital, that information was extremely secret. How had the Liu family gotten wind of it?

Moreover, these rare items… they had only been developed in the past year. Initially, they were only secretly sold overseas. But recently, production had surged, and overseas transport capacity couldn’t keep up. That was why they had thought to find some channels within the Great Qian territory.

Who would have thought the Liu family would show up right away!

Could it be that Prince Xian had already planted informants in Mianzhou long ago?

Seeing the utter fool’s face turn green and white, Wen Zhuo knew he had pushed far enough.

He took a step back, standing once more on the stone steps, and asked: “What did you say to me just now?”

“I… I…” Wen Xu opened his mouth, stubbornly craning his neck as if to argue something, but his belly was empty of words and his mind was a tangled mess. He couldn’t squeeze out a single complete sentence.

Wen Zhuo lowered his eyes and leisurely rolled up his sleeves two inches, revealing a pale yet sharply defined wrist.

Before Wen Xu could react, his wrist suddenly lashed out, and a sharp slap landed squarely on Wen Xu’s face.

Smack!

The force of the slap was immense. Not only did it make Wen Xu’s ears ring, but it also startled many diners. Their chopsticks and wine cups clattered to the ground in a noisy mess.

Everyone stared wide-eyed at the unbelievable scene.

Wen Xu was spun around by the slap. He staggered but barely kept his footing.

He felt dizzy, his cheek burning with pain. His nose grew hot, and two streams of bright red blood spurted out, dripping down past his mouth onto the front of his robe.

“You! You! You!” Wen Xu glared at Wen Zhuo in fury, pointing a trembling finger at him. His whole body shook with rage, yet he dared not curse out loud.

“What about me?” Wen Zhuo rubbed his palm nonchalantly, as if he had just swatted an annoying fly. “Even if the Mianzhou Prefect Lou Changsui or your father Wen Yingjing were standing here, I would slap them if I felt like it. Come stand over here!”

Wen Xu’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. He looked up at Wen Zhuo standing on the stone steps, breathing heavily like an ox.

Wen Zhuo turned to the two dumbstruck servants and said flatly: “You two, help him out.”

The two burly men shuddered. They exchanged glances, then timidly shuffled toward Wen Xu.

Although they hadn’t understood the secret details Wen Zhuo had mentioned about the Chancellor, watching Wen Xu’s ever-changing complexion was enough to tell them not to doubt Wen Zhuo’s identity.

If even their young master dared not offend this man, how could they, mere servants, dare to cross him?

They hurried forward, one on each side, and grabbed Wen Xu by the shoulders.

“How dare you!” Wen Xu roared, struggling to shake off their hands. “I’m the young master of the Wen family! If you dare do this to me, I’ll have your skins flayed off!”

The two servants wore bitter expressions, but they didn’t dare let go. All they could do was cower and plead: “Young master, we don’t want to either, but… but this gentleman from the capital…”

“Still able to curse? It seems I struck too lightly just now.” Wen Zhuo gave a cold laugh. His wrist flew up again, and he slapped the other side of Wen Xu’s face.

“Ouch! It hurts!” Wen Xu howled like a slaughtered pig. His once fair, delicate face instantly swelled with two distinct red marks.

Wen Zhuo was still not satisfied. He raised his hand and slapped again: “Shut up!”

In the wide street, in front of the once-bustling inn, there was now nothing but the crisp sound of slaps, punctuated by Wen Xu’s pig-like squeals.

Wen Xu’s vision went black. The nosebleed flowed more and more, streaming down his chin into his neck. Soon, his cheeks went numb and swollen, and his entire face puffed up like a steamed bun.

Shen Zhi had watched the whole scene, raising an eyebrow. This was the first time he had seen the weak, feline little minister hit someone, and he did it with considerable ferocity and abandon.

Liu Qiyi caught Shen Zhi’s expression and quickly cleared his throat, explaining with feigned seriousness: “Your Highness, our chancellor is just standing up for the people. His heart is actually extremely soft, and he never hits anyone.”

Shen Zhi laughed and waved his hand: “Go help that old man up. See how badly he’s hurt. I have some questions to ask him.”

He couldn’t care less about the cunning little minister’s ruthless side. After all, this was a man who had left a fearsome reputation across a thousand years of history—whether good or ill, no one with a soft temperament would ever achieve that.

Meanwhile, Wen Zhuo had been hitting for so long that even his own hand had gone numb. Only then did he stop.

By now, Wen Xu was barely conscious, drool trickling from the corner of his mouth. He was being dragged along like a lump of mud.

Wen Zhuo looked at him with disgust, wiped his hand clean on Wen Xu’s exquisite embroidered silk robe, then said coldly to the two servants, whose foreheads were dripping with sweat: “Use his clothes to wipe the blood off the ground. Then take him and get out of my sight.”

“Yes! Yes!” The two men, completely dazed, forgot to take off Wen Xu’s robe. Instead, they simply laid him flat on the ground and rolled his body over the bloodstains.

Wen Xu’s head rolled back and forth on the ground, eating a mouthful of yellow dirt. By the end, the blood had been wiped clean, but he was disheveled, covered in mud and grime, his gaudy clothes a ridiculous mess.

The two servants hastily hoisted him up and fled without looking back.