TAMW CH18

Yuqing returned to the Zhou residence. Butler Deng mentioned that the Second Uncle had indeed come by these past few days to look over the account books.

“What is he looking at the account books for?” Yuqing asked.

“The Chamber of Commerce is about to begin its presidential election. He’s likely canvassing for votes. When the time comes, bosses from all trades in Baizhou City will cast their ballots, so calling in favors is inevitable.”

Yuqing remarked, “With the Ruan family backing him, does Second Uncle still have moments where he lacks silver?”

The Ruan family was enjoying immense glory, far better off than the already withered and declining Zhou family.

“With Young Master Min dead, I reckon the Second Master’s standing in the Ruan family is also…” The butler hesitated, leaving his words unfinished.

But Yuqing already understood his meaning. Originally, while Zhou Min was alive, they had hoped to outlast the old master and seize the Zhou family’s assets. Now that Zhou Min was gone, and the older generation of the Zhou family had divided their property early on, the Second Uncle had no legitimate claim to inherit. The Ruan family knew he had outlived his usefulness.

Yuqing smiled faintly. “These days probably aren’t easy for Second Uncle either. If he wants to see the account books, let him. It’s just a few pawnshops, after all.”

Butler Deng bowed slightly and stood silently beside him.

Yuqing sat right in the middle of the old master’s courtyard. This was a grand traditional mansion untainted by any Western influence. Some of the bricks in the corners were even relics from the old dynasty. The eaves tilted upward, and the sun and shadow cast a sharp, distinct boundary across the yard. Bathing in the sunlight, Yuqing lay back in a rocking chair, closing his eyes to rest. As the chair swayed gently, a corner of his long, orchid-blue gown fluttered in the breeze that brushed past his ankles. His long hair was pinned up, and his face was tinged slightly red from the sun.

Rather than saying Yuqing had never seen freedom, it was more accurate to say he preferred stability. Some called those living within four high walls a frog in a well. But there was nothing wrong with being a frog in a well. Yuqing very much loved enjoying the peace within this little square of heaven. Perhaps it was because he had spent far too long running about outside; the displacement of his youth made him resist it. He liked it here, and never yearned for freedom.

The rocking chair swayed. He gently stroked his lower abdomen.

“Zhao Fu,” he called out softly.

“Here,” replied Zhao Fu, standing to the side with a bowed back.

“I want to eat something sour.”

“I’ll go get it for you right now,” Zhao Fu said in a low voice. “Would the sour fish from Xianxiang Restaurant do?”

Yuqing parted his lips slightly, patting the servant’s cheek. His voice was exceptionally tender, as if petting a large hound raised in the house. “You really do understand my heart.”

“Go on.”

Those few simple words made Zhao Fu wish he could carve out his heart and offer it up. Someone like Yuqing, a heavenly being… He truly couldn’t fathom why the eldest young master would abandon him. But on second thought, he felt it was for the best. As long as the eldest young master didn’t return, the child would surely be raised by him in the future. The young madam’s constitution was so fragile; when his belly grew larger and walking became difficult, Zhao Fu could even support him for longer periods of time…

Blushing, he tried to stand up, but his crotch had already reacted to Yuqing’s touch. Unable to move properly, he could only remain kneeling, lowering his head in shame.

Yuqing rocked the chair, sensing that the person kneeling beside him hadn’t left. Squinting against the sun, he noticed the anomaly beneath the coarse fabric of Zhao Fu’s trousers. Frowning, he raised his palm and delivered a resounding slap across Zhao Fu’s face. “You bastard.”

Zhao Fu choked nervously in his throat, taking the beating honestly. He hung his head so low it seemed he wanted to bury it into the dirt.

“I don’t want to see a next time. Tuck away those thoughts of yours,” Yuqing drawled lazily, continuing to rock his chair. “Get out.”

“Yes…”

Only then did Zhao Fu cover his face and slowly back out of the old master’s courtyard. Having accompanied Yuqing for years, he naturally knew that Yuqing was not as delicate as he appeared on a daily basis. In Yuqing’s eyes, he was genuinely just a dog of a slave. But to be a slave for the young madam, he was willing. Truly willing.

Zhao Fu hurried off to buy the food, and peace fell over Yuqing’s surroundings once more. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. “The Young Madam of the Zhou family has quite a temper today.”

“General Jiang,” Yuqing recognized the visitor. “What wind blew you here?”

Jiang Sui was a proper military man; coming to the Zhou residence naturally didn’t require any special announcements. The servant watching the door had led him in, just in time to catch him slapping Zhao Fu from the corridor. He couldn’t help but chuckle. He strolled over leisurely, and a servant quickly brought a chair and poured tea.

“I’m leaving Baizhou for a while. Came to let you know,” Jiang Sui said.

Yuqing asked, “The Chamber of Commerce presidential election is right before our eyes, and the General is deserting on the eve of battle…”

General Jiang laughed heartily at his words. “You really can’t blame me for this.”

Yuqing stopped rocking the chair and said calmly, “With the Chamber of Commerce election upon us, setting aside the fact that we’ve known each other for years, the terms I offered you back then were generous enough. If you leave now, the railway I promised you… I might not be able to front the money for it.”

Jiang Sui replied, “I haven’t even said anything yet and you’re threatening me. What a ruthless turncoat you are.” Though the words were an accusation, a smile played at the corners of the General’s mouth.

Yuqing asked lazily, “Then why are you leaving?”

Because the Northern Qiao army was stationed in Baizhou, bandits and uprisings were extremely rare; it was a rare pocket of stability.

“My eldest brother is dead. I have to go back,” Jiang Sui said.

Yuqing frowned. “Hm?”

“Got the intelligence report just this morning. He was killed right after being promoted to Section Chief. They still haven’t found the murderer.”

Jiang Sui brought out a newspaper featuring the news of Jiang Mao’s assassination. It wasn’t just a murder; the method was incredibly brutal. A pair of hands had been sliced into pieces like chopping vegetables, yet still connected by the bone. The coroner reported that the fatal blow was a stab to the artery in the neck, causing him to bleed to death. The news detailed the cruel methods—two successive Land Bureau section chiefs dying tragically. Who knew who the next victim would be?

The image of Jiang Mao’s smug, greasy appearance at the cocktail party surfaced in Yuqing’s mind. He murmured softly, “Dead…”

“Though my brother and I had no real bond, these matters still need to be handled. Moreover, two Land Bureau section chiefs in Shencheng running into trouble one after another—there must be something fishy going on.”

“Shencheng produces coal. This is aimed at the coal mines,” Yuqing chimed in. Both the section chiefs who issued loans and took bribes were dead. “Then the newly appointed section chief is…”

“Originally, there were only two deputy section chiefs. After my brother’s promotion, the deputy spot he vacated hadn’t been filled yet. So the current section chief is the remaining deputy.”

The deputy who wasn’t highly regarded originally had now reaped the spoils. Yuqing didn’t know much about Shencheng, but he had heard a few things at the party. The other deputy section chief had been sidelined simply because he wasn’t greedy enough.

“When will you return?” Yuqing asked.

“Half a month if it’s fast. A month at the absolute most.”

Yuqing nodded. “My condolences.”

Jiang Sui chuckled softly. “There was no affection, so where would the grief come from? How many dead people have I seen on the battlefield? It just so happens it’s my brother this time. When I think of all those mistresses of his waiting outside for me to deal with, it just gives me a headache…”

Yuqing also laughed quietly. “Don’t say that.”

Jiang Sui took a sip of tea. The Zhou family’s tea was jasmine transported from Jiangnan, fragrant but not bitter. Thinking back, the first time he met Yuqing, it seemed to be accompanied by this very scent of jasmine.

At that time, Yuqing had just taken over the pawnshop for the first time, and Jiang Sui wasn’t yet a general. He had been shot multiple times and was being hunted by enemies. Yuqing saved him. Yuqing was the boss of the pawnshop, but merely a figurehead managing the front. He sold his own hairpin in his own pawnshop to buy medicine and treat Jiang Sui’s wounds. Later, Jiang Sui left and returned to the army, and Yuqing assumed it was just a chance encounter. That was until one day, the pawnshop door was pushed open, and Jiang Sui came personally to redeem his hairpin. The silver dollars and the hairpin—everything was returned to its rightful owner.

Jiang Sui was thirty-five this year, and Yuqing was nine years his junior. Honestly, on the day Yuqing got married, he really should have brought his gun and snatched the bride. But Yuqing had said that he had saved many people in his life, simply because his father had once saved him—treating others as he had been treated, nothing more, nothing worthy of gratitude.

To him, his “father” was far more important than anyone else. If his father wanted him to guard the Zhou family, he would comply. They actually had a lot of history. Jiang Sui thought there would be fireworks, but he never expected that to Yuqing, he was just a passing figure.

Jiang Sui couldn’t help but sigh, “Is the Young Master Zhou to your liking?”

“He loathes me very much,” Yuqing smiled. “So, he is very much to my liking.”

Jiang Sui understood Yuqing’s temperament entirely too well. Beneath his seemingly gentle exterior lay a profound indifference to romantic love. Just like Zhao Fu, who had served by his side diligently for years—in Yuqing’s eyes, a servant was a servant, never allowed to ascend to the master’s bed.

“Whenever he stops being to your liking, you can come find me anytime,” Jiang Sui smiled. “Though I’m not as young as a master returning from studying abroad, I’m probably not half bad.”

For some reason, Yuqing suddenly thought of Zhou Xiao at this moment. If the eldest young master heard these words, what kind of expression would he make? He was usually so perceptive of human nature, yet right now, he couldn’t grasp exactly what would be going through Zhou Xiao’s mind.

Jiang Sui simply came to say his goodbyes before returning to Shencheng.

A while later, with a creak, the wooden door opened from the inside. Doctor Smith, wearing his white coat, stepped out, having just lowered the stethoscope around his neck. He was shaking his head as he walked.

Yuqing hurried forward to ask, “How is it?”

Doctor Smith shook his head. “Just a couple of days.”

It was a terminal illness that even the gods couldn’t cure. Yuqing’s heart dropped. He followed Doctor Smith’s footsteps toward the exit, “Is there really no other way?”

Truthfully, before seeking a doctor, Yuqing already knew the score. The old master’s lung disease had dragged on for a long time—a coughing ailment contracted from his years in the coal mine business. All these years he only saw Chinese medicine doctors, refusing Western medicine. Yuqing had only brought in a Western doctor while he was severely ill and delirious.

The old master’s body was truly failing.

Yuqing’s face was a bit pale as he stood forlornly in the courtyard. “See the doctor out properly.”

After a while, he returned to the old master’s door.

“Yuqing…” The old master’s voice was heavy, like the dying echoes of a withered life. “Come in.”

Butler Deng wiped his tears from the side and pushed open the door, signaling for him to enter.

As the wooden door pushed open, a heavy stench of blood emanated from within. During the days he had gone to Shencheng, the old master had already started coughing up blood. Outside in the early spring, the cicadas were quiet. The Zhou residence no longer possessed its former glory; from top to bottom, the mansion was filled with dampness and the smell of rotting mildew. Even on sunny days, one could still smell the cold dampness in the shaded corners.

The old master was dressed decently—Butler Deng helped change him every day.

Yuqing walked over and knelt by the bed, pressing his head like a little kitten against the man’s withered hand, calling softly, “Father.”

“Father…”

“Yuqing…” The old master’s voice was hoarse. “My son.”

“The eldest young master is busy outside…”

The old master shook his head and repeated, “Yuqing, my son.” He meant that Yuqing was his son.

Tears welled up in Yuqing’s eyes. He rarely cried, rarely showed emotion. In his youth, everyone had wanted to see him undress; his mother had received clients and stripped for him, ultimately meeting a tragic end. Zhou Yuzhang had buried his mother for him. Aside from this skin and bones, he didn’t know how to repay that kindness.

Since childhood, everyone had wanted to see him take his clothes off. But Zhou Yuzhang put clothes on him, taught him to write, hired a tutor for him, and taught him how to use an abacus.

His father had said: ‘Yuqing is a good name. The ‘Qing’ for pure and innocent. You must live up to the name your mother gave you.’

‘Yuqing, if you’re sick, you must take medicine. How will you get better if you just suffer through it?’

Yuqing had thought back then that in the Ruan family, he had never dared to say he was sick, because if he was sick, his father would despise his frail constitution—a flaw from the womb, a reason for unwarranted disgust. But Zhou Yuzhang would feed him medicine, let him wear new clothes, and let him choose the servants he liked to keep by his side.

This fatherly affection intoxicated him. His father said the legitimate son refused to inherit the family business, had a rash temper, and the Zhou family’s legacy was truly on the verge of withering away. He raised Yuqing, pinning his hopes for a son upon him. He was raising a compliant and obedient helper for Zhou Xiao.

He valued Yuqing, saying he had actually owed his son all these years. The woman he loved had been killed by the first wife, and he had been powerless to stop it back then. The first wife raised Zhou Xiao merely to force him to return home. If he truly showed love for Zhou Xiao, the first wife would have killed the boy. At that time, his business still relied on the first wife’s maiden family. With parents above him, the old master was more like a puppet bound by marriage.

Unable to marry the woman he loved, unable to dote on his own flesh and blood. He could only dote on Yuqing.

Only then did Yuqing realize that he was actually just a stand-in for the eldest young master, completing the filial piety and family joy for the young master that had never existed. He was jealous of Zhou Xiao, wanting to replace him. He desperately wanted to become the Zhou family’s son. He even felt that Zhou Xiao was entirely unworthy of their father’s love, unworthy of all the plotting and pavement laid out for him. How could he be worthy?

Zhou Yuzhang said, “You and I are not father and son, yet we surpass father and son.”

“The second brother has coveted the family assets for a long time. Yuqing, be his wife. You will manage the estate. Letting you manage it puts me more at ease than letting that brat manage it.”

Taking him as an adopted son wasn’t enough qualification to inherit the family business. How could an outsider with a different surname become a member of the Zhou family? The only way was to pass through the door, to be officially wedded as the wife of the Zhou family.

And so, Yuqing cast caution to the wind. Even if he was a man, as a male wife, he was willing to share his father’s burden.

This was his father. If he gave birth to a child with the Zhou family’s bloodline, he would be the biological father of the Zhou family’s heir—even more legitimate.

But his father forbade it. Throughout history, legends of men bearing children were few and far between, and even if true, it was a near-fatal endeavor. Yuqing saw the heartache in Zhou Yuzhang’s eyes. At that moment, he thought to himself that even if he died, it would be worth it.

Outside the window, the servants walked quietly. Once spring passed, midsummer nights would arrive.

Yuqing leaned over, pressing against the edge of the old master’s palm, tears flowing slowly. He called out softly, “Father.”

The old master had already ceased breathing.

“Father…”

“Yuqing is pregnant. It is the flesh and blood of the Zhou family. I, too, now carry the blood of the Zhou family.”

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Author’s Note:

Yuqing’s path here: Jealous of the eldest young master -> Prepared to kill the eldest young master -> Prepared to use the eldest young master -> Use him and throw him away.

Date-pit bro’s path here: He loves me. [Milk Tea]