TAMW CH36

Didn’t the young master already weep his heart out when leaving home this morning?

Why was he sobbing all over again?!

Deng Yongquan could not help feeling utterly helpless. Thinking back to when they had barely departed—not even halfway through the journey—Zhou Xiao had ordered the car to pull over so he could draft a letter and dispatch a courier to send it straight back to the Zhou estate.

With letters traveling back and forth, the Madam’s reply had already arrived. Had the feverish yearning still not burned itself out?

Deng Yongquan buried his head under the quilt, feigning total deafness.

He originally assumed he ought to prepare some gentle words of comfort for the morning. Yet by dawn, Zhou Xiao was already fully dressed, rising earlier than Deng Yongquan himself. His suit was sharply pressed, his face cool and devoid of expression as he slid coldly into the car. “What are you standing there for? Start driving.”

“Wrap up these wretched chores early,” he said, producing a cigarette and watching a languid ribbon of smoke drift from his lips as he murmured under his breath, “I must return home as soon as possible.”

“Otherwise, the Madam misses me too terribly in his pregnancy. He even wrote yesterday to urge me home. Once I finish what’s on my plate, you will stay here and keep watch.”

Deng Yongquan: “……”

Zhou Xiao never used to smoke; at the very least, he had avoided the habit in France. While he knew how, he kept his distance. Yet upon returning home, a cigarette was permanently tucked between his lips. Whenever he was indoors, he would light dried mint or jasmine leaves to smoke; when leaves were scarce, he sought out specialty floral cigarettes.

Those floral cigarettes carried a rich perfume, though they tasted rather ordinary. Yuqing used to pack dried mint into his long pipe, which worked wonders to clear the head.

Through the rearview mirror, Deng Yongquan watched Zhou Xiao stamp out the cigarette, fish something else out of his pocket, and pop it into his mouth.

When on earth had his young master grown so fond of snacking?

Completely baffled, Deng Yongquan chose to keep his head down and drive in silence.

Liu County was a modest satellite town orbiting Shencheng, hugged by hills veined with contiguous coal deposits. The entire county was officially property of the Republican government. Yet the two prior section chiefs had kept a vice grip on the area, colluding with local gentry to run predatory loan schemes, sitting atop massive coal reserves while artificially driving fuel prices skyward.

The newly appointed section chief was surnamed Xing—a man who worked with sharp efficiency and possessed a clean conscience.

When Zhou Xiao first arrived in Shencheng, he had seen right through Section Chief Wang and Section Chief Jiang as corrupt, unreliable parasites. From the very beginning, the man he aimed to contact was Xing Kejin. When Deng Yongquan had slipped away from Zhou Xiao’s side upon arriving in Shencheng, it was precisely to reach out to Section Chief Xing.

Xing was an educated man from a prestigious Shanghai university. Rising from an impoverished countryside background, his governance was genuinely aimed at aiding the common folk. The railway project moved with remarkable swiftness through his hands; the instant the starting funds cleared, he rounded up the workers to break ground without delay.

The Ford car navigated into Liu County, winding past several mountain ridges. Stepping out, even beneath the winter bite, numerous laborers could be seen in sleeveless undershirts, hauling rock and chiseling away at the earth.

“Section Chief Xing.” Zhou Xiao stepped out of the vehicle, donning a posture of polite refinement. “It is an honor.”

Xing Kejin was scarcely a few years older than him, dressed in a high-collared cotton suit and round-rimmed spectacles. He extended his hand in a firm clasp. “Vice President Zhou.”

“Work has already begun. I heard from Engineer Deng how tirelessly you labored to secure this funding. You have worked hard.”

To the outside world, Deng Yongquan acted as the primary technical specialist providing railway blueprints, heading a small team of Western engineers brought back from France.

Observing how young Zhou Xiao was, Xing Kejin had previously dealt only with Deng Yongquan. He had long been sidelined in the Land Administration Bureau, his ambitions stifled. The more chaotic the era grew, the cheaper human life became; scarcely any officials truly gave a damn about the common people struggling through the turmoil.

Having corresponded with Deng Yongquan for so long, this was his first face-to-face encounter with Zhou Xiao. To his surprise, the man was remarkably youthful, refined, and courteous—every inch the Western-educated gentleman, brimming with drive and lofty ambition!

Xing Kejin led the way, introducing the various construction sections underway: “Once this line opens, we will link directly with the neighboring province in an instant. If it can extend all the way to Baizhou, the people of Shencheng can rely on sea transport to export coal, achieving a true realization of transporting northern coal to the south! When that day comes, every household having a warm hearth in the winter will no longer be an idle dream!”

Zhou Xiao remarked smoothly, “That is precisely the goal.”

In his heart, he thought: This fellow is an absolute bookworm.

Thinking only of moving coal. The reason he had languished as a deputy section chief for all these years was not merely an inability to flatter superiors, but sheer, unbending rigidity.

A railway could haul far more than coal. With the fierce clashes between North and South, the ones with true wealth in this country were the warlords. The real profit lay in shipping arms and ammunition!

Holding the reins of a railway meant one could even transport entire armies from north to south within a single day. Money—in a world upside down, human lives were where the true fortune lay!

While Xing Kejin was swept up in his impassioned pitch, Zhou Xiao could not resist murmuring under his breath, “My Madam truly has an exceptional eye.”

Yuqing had known all along that this railway was meant for far more than hauling coal. When his wife held the port in his grasp and Zhou Xiao controlled the land railway, never mind Baizhou—the wealth of the entire province would funnel straight into their household.

After all, he was now a man with a wife and a child on the way.

Having a home meant planting one’s feet firmly on the ground.

Hearing his young master spout these mad declarations again, Deng Yongquan’s eyelid twitched. He could only reply, “Indeed…”

“You are still the one who understands me best!” Zhou Xiao gave a low chuckle, giving Deng Yongquan’s shoulder an approving squeeze.

He could not stomach listening to Xing Kejin prattle on about his noble aspirations any longer. One glance was enough to tell this man had never married; only unattached men with no family spoke of such empty platitudes. Otherwise, why waste this time when one could be at home sharing a pillow in sweet comfort with one’s wife?

“Section Chief Xing, I have a humble request,” Zhou Xiao said.

Xing Kejin: “Please, go ahead.”

“My wife at home is expecting. While I am stationed out here, his pregnancy brings him great discomfort, and sleeping alone is hard on him. I wonder if you have connections in the military? I would like to utilize a small privilege to install a private telephone line in our home.”

Hearing this, the admiration in Xing Kejin’s eyes became entirely impossible to hide. “I never imagined Vice President Zhou had married at such a young age?”

“Yes. It was quite fortunate; while I advocate for free love, the match arranged by my household proved entirely to my liking.”

Deng Yongquan: “……”

He suddenly recalled the wedding day, when the young master had been locked in his room, dead set on fleeing at all costs.

How could this possibly be the same man?

When a man fostered an image of being devoted to his wife and household, his outward reliability soared exponentially. By rights, Zhou Xiao was an undeniable contributor to the railway: he had provided both funds and schematics, solving a monumental civic dilemma. He was a genuine hero of the project, fully entitled to claim a few privileges.

Yet the sole privilege he asked for was for his family’s comfort. Such an upright young man was a rare gem.

Xing Kejin said, “I do happen to know an officer in the service. Your estate is in Baizhou, correct?”

“It is,” Zhou Xiao said.

“I will put in a word with the provincial bureau. They can go lay the line tomorrow.” Xing Kejin patted his shoulder. “Truly remarkable!”

Though this was the Republican era, which man of wealth and standing did not drag concubines into his house one after another? Zhou Xiao truly lived up to his Western education, holding firmly to monogamy.

Zhou Xiao believed this was the only way to achieve true bliss. Men who took concubines were filthy creatures, completely unworthy of Yuqing.

Since Yuqing had chosen him in this life, he was destined to have only him.

The mere thought that they were bound for a lifetime, with a child resembling himself on the horizon, filled his chest with immense sweetness.

Telephones were not something every household possessed; an ordinary laborer’s wages for two or three months would not even cover the security deposit.

Yuqing found it novel indeed. The provincial office had dispatched surveyors, and work commenced by the afternoon. Word had it that the fee for installing a single private line could purchase thousands of catties of rice.

Had Zhou Xiao poured all the money from the Ruan family contract into installing a telephone?

Not long after the installation, he received two more letters in a single day.

One contained Zhou Xiao’s telephone number. He still spent his workdays at the bank, where there was an office line. In the letter, he leveled bitter complaints about how the bank president treated him poorly, claiming he felt terribly wronged, though he was willing to endure it all for the sake of bringing the railway to Baizhou.

The second letter rambled on about everything he saw in Liu County, the local specialties he tasted, though he closed by saying he wanted milk far more.

Basking on his rocking chair in the courtyard, Yuqing read his righteous words followed by such a shameless demand. He could not help flipping the letter face-down, his cheeks warming with an involuntary smile.

Truly devoid of all shame.

Yuqing’s smooth fingertips traced the paper, rubbing over the English words penned at the bottom.

What did they actually mean?

The servants moved in orderly lines, carrying in various delicacies from the car outside—mostly cakes and pastries unavailable in Baizhou.

Yuqing had never been held in anyone’s thoughts like this before. His mother had loved him dearly when he was small, but their life in the Ruan household was miserable. Before his features had matured, his mother received poor rations; the two of them often held their bowls without daring to reach for the side dishes. Only after the First Madam finished eating would his mother quietly stash a pastry for him.

After moving to the Zhou estate, his father treated him well, leaving him wanting for neither food nor clothing. Yet that sort of benevolence was an entirely different creature from being treasured in someone’s heart.

No matter where Zhou Xiao went or what he did, he sent people rushing back with eight letters a day, packaging every novel sight, sound, and flavor he encountered.

Yuqing remarked, “I don’t recall asking the Master to report every single detail to me.”

Butler Deng chuckled. “He holds you in his thoughts, and yearns for you to hold him in yours just the same. The young master has always been like this—give him an inch of warmth and he will return ten yards…”

Yuqing interrupted the butler with a soft laugh, “Give him an inch and he takes a yard; utterly brazen.”

Butler Deng bowed his head, chuckling along with the Madam. “If he heard you say that, he would be over the moon.”

“In the past, I only thought he looked so much like Father. The longer we spend together… the less he seems like him,” Yuqing murmured.

As time wore on, Zhou Xiao’s true self became increasingly distinct in his heart. When they first crossed paths, he thought the young man’s resemblance to his father was his sole redeeming quality—at least it spared him from feeling utterly nauseated.

Yuqing was never one to commit faces to memory. Even now, Zhao Fu attended to him daily, yet in his mind, Zhao Fu was merely a vague silhouette with his head dutifully lowered; he rarely paid mind to the man’s features.

Yet Zhou Xiao’s sharp, deep-set brow had grown vivid within his mind.

It seemed… when reading his letters, he could picture the exact look on his face as he sat writing.

In the family study, the boy of years past holding a calligraphy brush, stroke by careful stroke.

In unfamiliar Shencheng, the young man holding a fountain pen, word by deliberate word.

Yuqing knew he was hypocritical, treacherous, and ruthless to the bone, yet set against that dark calculation was an absurd childishness that somehow rendered those flaws oddly endearing.

The respectable, capable Vice President Zhou in the outside world turned into a shameless scoundrel begging for milk the moment he came home.

Yuqing could not suppress a chuckle, his hand unconsciously resting on his abdomen. He murmured softly, “Qingming, you must not grow up to be like your father… he is far from upright.”

“By the way, has anyone gone to scout the newly arrived troops?” Yuqing asked.

Zhao Fu nodded. “Only the regiment has marched in so far. We still don’t know who has taken command. General Jiang’s whereabouts are unknown, so a replacement was bound to come, though we haven’t heard who leads them.”

“Taking office will take time. In this clash between North and South, who wins and who loses matters little; what matters is whether we can hold our ground.”

Jiang Sui had clearly met with misfortune; otherwise, had his reinforcements succeeded, no new garrison would have been deployed to Baizhou. The general had most likely suffered a crushing defeat, leading to his disappearance.

Alive or dead, no one knew.

Yuqing had saved him once, but he could not save him every time. Moreover, the place where he vanished sat right on the boundary line of the war; stepping into that fray was simply not worth the risk. With an old acquaintance missing, sending people to search was already fulfilling old sentiment; now, the newcomer had to be won over as well.

He let out a long sigh, swaying gently on the rocking chair.

His frame was thin and frail, almost swallowed whole by the chair, his swollen abdomen the only curve pushing forward. His hands looked chilled to the bone, so Zhao Fu prepared a hand-warmer to ease the cold.

Yet Yuqing felt… this brass warmer was far too smooth. It lacked the rough, calloused warmth of that man’s palm.

That man’s hands warmed him much faster.

In the dead of night, Zhou Xiao arrived in Tan City from Liu County.

Tan City sat on the provincial border. The Liu County line needed to connect to the neighboring province before linking back to Baizhou, expanding outward from a central hub.

Connecting the outer line took priority: the adjacent province had just seen the end of fighting, and opening the rail line swiftly allowed the transport of supplies, aiding the people while generating massive revenue.

After an exhausting day, he caught a brief nap in the vehicle.

Dressed in a black trench coat with the hood pulled low, he stepped out into the biting winter chill. The further south one traveled, the more damp and piercing the cold became, the wind striking like a paper-thin sheet of ice against the skin.

The car halted before an unassuming inn. Two hours further down the road lay the desolate battlefield.

Every house had bolted its doors shut. Deng Yongquan knocked on the wooden entrance of the inn; the door cracked open barely an inch, granting entry only after their identities were confirmed.

“Master, it is here,” Deng Yongquan murmured. “Not many survived the field. It was over the border demarcation; once Tan City falls, this territory will fall under southern command.”

“Jiang Sui’s forces were holding their ground at first. I heard they held for three or four days without breaking, but an ambush from the east caught them in a pincer movement, forcing a retreat.”

Zhou Xiao nodded, tugging his brim down to shield most of his face. “Lead the way.”

Deng Yongquan guided him upstairs. Men in black guarded every floor. Reaching the fifth level, two men in military boots stood flanking a doorway, signaling someone of high rank lay within.

Zhou Xiao kept his head bowed, signaling Deng Yongquan to wait by the stairs while he stepped forward alone, taking off his hat. “I have come from Baizhou.”

The guard on the other side pressed a Mauser pistol flush against Zhou Xiao’s waist. “Prove it.”

Zhou Xiao produced a handkerchief, offering a mild smile. “This will suffice.”

The guard took the cloth inside. Moments later, he stepped back out, nodding to his companion.

Yet instead of opening that door, they unlocked the room adjacent.

The two rooms had been knocked through; the adjoining room was the true hideout where Jiang Sui was recovering from his wounds.

Zhou Xiao walked straight inside. Standing within were the general’s personal adjutants, alongside Major Chen, who had appeared on their wedding day. He stepped forward unhurriedly, taking care not to bypass the folding screen uninvited, waiting on the outer side.

“Were you sent by the Zhou estate?” The voice behind the screen was raspy, thick with heavy male presence and imposing authority.

Zhou Xiao naturally pulled up a chair by the table outside, pouring himself a cup of tea. “Yes. The Madam has tasked me with locating the General’s whereabouts.”

He showed no rush to lay eyes on Jiang Sui, which made him look even less like an enemy scout.

“What is your name?” Jiang Sui asked.

Zhou Xiao replied smoothly, “Deng Yongquan.”

“The butler’s son.” Confirming he was a servant of the Zhou estate, Jiang Sui ordered his guards to step aside, beckoning him in.

Zhou Xiao did not leap up. As the guards moved aside, the figure on the bed was revealed.

He was bare-chested, nursing gunshot wounds while fleeing pursuers, forced to lie low here. Jiang Sui did not share a mother with the late Section Chief Jiang, but sharing a father gave him upright, distinct features. Years of military service lent him an unspoken rogue edge, walking the razor’s edge between righteous and roguish.

Zhou Xiao’s gaze traveled upward, noting the rough stubble darkening the man’s jaw, his deep wheat-toned skin nearly matching Zhao Fu’s shade. He was not old, but compared to Zhou Xiao, he was certainly no youth.

Hahahahaha!!!

He truly doesn’t measure up to me!

With that battered look, covered in scars, plain in feature, and as for his physique—compared to his own, it paled in comparison!

Zhou Xiao had wondered what manner of formidable figure could hold Yuqing’s concern; to think it was merely a brute like Zhao Fu, only outfitted in an officer’s uniform!

In his heart, Zhou Xiao declared himself victorious once more. On looks alone, he was undeniably the one who gave Yuqing far more pleasure to gaze upon.

Suppressing his laughter, he rose with an air of solemnity. “General Jiang.”

“Sit. How does Yuqing fare at the port? Without me there, I wonder if things have been difficult for him,” Jiang Sui asked.

“The Madam’s affairs are naturally attended to by the Master. I was merely ordered to drop by for a look. Seeing you alive and well is enough; I will carry a message back to reassure the Madam so he doesn’t worry.”

Jiang Sui felt a surge of gratitude.

Finding this place had not been difficult for Zhou Xiao. One look at the map revealed that to push toward Baizhou from the border, Tan City offered far greater secrecy than larger, more accessible cities. Sure enough, sending scouts around revealed an inn that had recently been bought out entirely—naturally Jiang Sui’s sanctuary.

He had come for two reasons: first, to verify whether the man was dead.

Second, naturally, to see what this scoundrel looked like.

Knowing full well that Yuqing was married, he still dared maintain ties with him. Yuqing was not the sort to waver, but that did not stop outsiders from sniffing around, especially high-ranking officials.

Zhou Xiao had originally thought that if push came to shove, he would shoot him dead and haul his corpse to the southern army as a token of allegiance, securing a more pleasant replacement to safeguard Yuqing and oversee the port.

Now, it seemed entirely unnecessary.

What threat did an older man pose?

Yuqing was a peerless beauty, delicate and fair as a sprig of jasmine. Since his wife had chosen him, how could he look twice at anyone lesser?

Zhou Xiao felt immensely refreshed. Pouring more tea, he recalled how he had never managed to pry the story of their past out of Yuqing. Seeing Jiang Sui in the flesh, he thought he ought to respect his wife’s wishes after all.

Clearly, this older man was nursing a one-sided longing! Hahahahaha!

The handkerchief he had offered was merely scrap cloth snatched from a roadside stall, thoroughly scented overnight with jasmine and mint.

How could he ever hand Yuqing’s real handkerchief to another man? Dream on.

Jiang Sui, assuming it was truly Yuqing’s, turned it over in his hands, unable to part with it.

No one knew his wife’s scent better than Zhou Xiao.

Hahaha! Lewd scoundrel, clutching it like a desperate fool.

Zhou Xiao felt irritation flare again. On what grounds did this man think he could shamelessly fondle a handkerchief he believed was Yuqing’s?

“The Madam will likely need that handkerchief back,” Zhou Xiao remarked. “He fears the Master might find his belongings in another’s hands and take offense. The Madam cherishes the Master deeply.”

Jiang Sui looked at him in surprise, stroking the cloth with gentle regret. “Is that so?”

“Naturally.”

Jiang Sui’s fingers lingered on the fabric, as if reluctant to let go, before asking softly, “Does he treat him well?”

“Naturally.”

“When I first met him, he was still very young,” Jiang Sui mused, falling into genuine remembrance. “I arrived a step too late, making him suffer. Even now, I failed to shield him. Take word back for me: if I return to Baizhou alive, my promise that not a single piece of opium enters the port still stands. He need not repay me with the railway.”

Zhou Xiao went rigid. “What?”

When had Yuqing taken control of the port?

When he had returned to France, while he was out of the country, Yuqing had risen to Vice President of the Chamber of Commerce, seizing the port.

He had assumed Yuqing and Jiang Sui shared some other illicit arrangement. Spending two days combing through the ledgers at the Zhou estate had yielded no trace of financial exchange, which had left his heart in turmoil. He feared Yuqing lacked self-respect, that he had degraded himself again.

Hearing it now from Jiang Sui’s lips…

Yuqing had used the railway as leverage to strike a deal with Jiang Sui?

That meant that before they had even laid their feelings bare, Yuqing had already been using him…

He was making use of him…

From the very beginning, he had coveted his talent, coveted his worth!

Zhou Xiao pressed his lips together, keeping his face dark to keep from laughing out loud.

So Yuqing had recognized his capabilities long ago! Yuqing knew to step on his shoulders to climb higher! It turned out… he had been helping him all this time!

He knew it! He knew Yuqing understood him, held him in his heart!

He knew it! He knew it! Hahahahaha!

Forget the child, forget the Zhou bloodline—even without those things, he, Zhou Xiao, would still be treasured by Yuqing because of his brilliance!

He had never spoken to him of the railway, yet Yuqing had been willing to play the piano for Section Chief Jiang for his sake, willing to tarnish his own reputation to pave the way for his railway ventures.

Yuqing, oh Yuqing…

His wife… how could he be so brilliant at using him?

Zhou Xiao turned to leave in haste, but upon reaching the door, he spun back and snatched the handkerchief cleanly from Jiang Sui’s grip.

He refused to let anyone catch even a phantom trace of Yuqing’s scent, even from a counterfeit.

Exhausted from travel, he ordered Deng Yongquan to remain in Tan City to head back the following day, while he drove through the dead of night straight back to Shencheng.

Rising early, Yuqing prepared to send the servants to purchase gifts, intending to visit the new military encampment.

A servant waiting by the door reported that the Master had called in the small hours of the morning, asking for the Madam to return the call once awake.

The workers who had wired the telephone had demonstrated its use.

Draped in a shawl, Yuqing stood before the telephone. He dialed the numbers, spinning the rotary wheel, watching it click back before dialing again. The call connected to the provincial operator, who routed it through the central exchange down to the municipal lines.

“Hello,” the operator answered.

Yuqing said, “Please connect me to… the Bank of Shencheng.”

“Certainly, please hold.”

A faint static hummed through the earpiece. Soon, the line clicked open. Yuqing, feeling quite like an old-fashioned relic, found the receiver wondrous. Could it truly carry another person’s voice across the distance?

It truly could.

Zhou Xiao’s voice sounded as though it were resting right against his ear, low and raspy: “Qingqing, is that you?”

Yuqing paused. He meant to ask what had happened to his voice, but answered first, “It is me.”

Zhou Xiao’s breath hitched on the other end, ragged and stirred with emotion. Hearing Yuqing’s soft, drowsy morning voice filled him with pure delight.

He did not know where to begin, nor how to convey the sheer exhilaration of knowing he was being used.

He knew even less how to put this devotion into words; he simply wanted to tell Yuqing that he was truly useful.

He begged his wife to use him, love him, pity him, and cherish him.

He wanted him to carry no burden at all; they were an honorable husband and wife, joined in formal marriage, bound in devotion without a shadow of doubt.

Yuqing’s past silence regarding Jiang Sui must have stemmed from fear of making him overthink.

Zhou Xiao was not overthinking; he merely felt he was a man of true worth, holding an even greater value in Yuqing’s heart.

A thousand words crowded his throat. Having guarded the telephone through the long night, when he finally opened his mouth, it all boiled down to:

“Qingqing, I miss you.”