Chapter 33

When the three redwood chests, adorned with exquisite floral and bird carvings and finished in golden lacquer, were carried to the Jinlong Bureau, Lu Feng was discussing the southern route with Pei Zhang.

“Carry them down first.” With his lips drawn tight, Lu Feng turned to Pei Zhang and said, “My wife’s behavior is out of line—please don’t let it become a source of ridicule for you.”

“Madam possesses a refined nature and a gentle heart, not to mention her virtuous and considerate character. There is truly nothing laughable about her.” Pei Zhang withdrew his gaze from the three chests, picked up his brush, and, leaning forward slightly, traced a route on the map.

“As mentioned earlier, the troops will split into two forces. In ten days, Lord Xu and Lord Liu will majestically depart the capital by imperial boat with their full contingents. You and I shall hurry to Tongzhou, leave from the Tongzhou port, and conduct an undercover investigation disguised as tea merchants in plainclothes.”

Pei Zhang continued, “If we don’t encounter extraordinary weather—storms, heavy seas, rain, or snow—we should arrive ten days before the two lords. We—” He then circled a spot on the map with his brush and decisively stated, “We will disembark at Suzhou.”

“Agreed.” Lu Feng glanced at the map and then at Pei Zhang with a trace of admiration in his eyes, remarking, “Master Pei, your insight runs deep, and your planning is exceedingly thorough.”

Pei Zhang laughed and said, “Master Lu, you flatter me. I have taken all your suggestions into account, and when I add it all up, I’m merely showing off my meager skills before a master.”

“No need to be modest, Master Pei—you are a clever man.”

Unlike Pei Zhang’s tactful way of handling matters, Lu Feng—born noble—has never feigned courtesy. He doesn’t deign to spare even an extra glance for those he despises; when he offers praise, it comes straight from the heart.

Pei Zhang persevered in poring over case files from many years past, meticulously uncovering the subtlest clues in every chapter. As the two of them discussed the route south, he thought that Lu Feng was at times overly cautious and unhurried, yet his considerations were indeed well founded.

Lu Feng folded up the map and said, “That’s all for today, Master Pei. The journey south will be arduous—prepare yourself accordingly.”

“The imperial grace is boundless—I dare not speak of hardship,” Pei Zhang replied with a smile. He stepped up to Lu Feng, bowed slightly, and saluted properly.

“For our journey south, I trust that Brother Junchi will bear with me graciously.”

Since they had decided to conduct their undercover investigation in plain clothes, Lu Feng could not carry the renowned name “Lu Feng,” which resonates like thunder. Instead, he adopted the alias “Shen Junchi,” assuming the identity of the head of a tea merchant family, while Pei Zhang took the name “Shen Zhang” as the cousin and second-in-command of the group.

“Don’t be so formal, Brother Zhang,” Lu Feng replied amiably. Holding his high station, he felt no need to perform an elaborate bow to Pei Zhang—just a slight nod was enough. “All matters have been settled. You need not come for the next two days—attend to your household affairs.”

That remark was a subtle hint.

Lu Feng had always maintained a clear separation between public and private affairs; he did not enjoy mixing family matters with official business. Because of the southern expedition, he and Pei Zhang often encountered one another at the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review—and sometimes Pei Zhang would come directly to Jinlong Bureau for visits. In time, the two grew more familiar.

He often saw members of the Pei household delivering soup to Pei Zhang. Yet if it were merely a bowl of soup, Lu Feng wouldn’t have been so strict about it. Interestingly, the Pei family did not deliver just once—they delivered three times. Three separate deliveries were made at different times, by different people, and in different food containers.

After being caught several times by Lu Feng, he never questioned it; instead, Pei Zhang took the initiative to explain, saying, “Master Lu, are you planning to dine? How about we eat together?”

In the end, Pei Zhang didn’t drink a single bowl—he let them cool, congeal, and eventually end up in the belly of a stray yellow dog roaming the street.

As they raised their cups and drank together, it was the first time Lu Feng detected even a trace of bitterness on the face of the young yet talented Master Pei.

“That bowl of chicken soup this morning was made by my mother for me—it was served warm, its flavor fresh and delightful, with a thin layer of oil floating on top. In the hard times we once endured, my mother could scarcely afford to eat or drink for herself, so every bit of the meat and broth at home was reserved for me.”

Pei Zhang downed a gulp of wine and continued, “And that bowl of fish soup at noon was simmered by my wife. It was slowly stewed over a low flame, with ginseng, lingzhi, and various precious medicinal herbs added to nourish the body.”

“Then, this cup in the evening was prepared by my cousin. She is clever and meticulous; at that moment—having just finished her busy day and feeling famished—she made a silver ear and lotus seed porridge that was sweet without being cloying, perfectly easing the day’s weariness.”

Lu Feng recalled the lunch box Pei Zhang had never touched and said in a deep tone, “You simply don’t like it.”

He would rather drink with his superior than even touch his household’s carefully prepared soups.

Lu Feng declared, “If you don’t like it, then don’t allow them to deliver it any more.”

When Duke Lu was still alive, it was possible to keep Lu Feng in check. But now—with Lu Feng being an imperial favorite on the outside and the head of his household at home—a mere frown from him would make everyone shudder inwardly. Even the second and third brothers dared not joke before this stern elder brother. Pei Zhang’s cautious deliberation was something that a forcefully assertive man like Lu Feng simply could not understand.

“In life, how can everything go exactly as one wishes?” Pei Zhang gave a wry smile and refilled the cups in front of him.

“My mother gave birth to me and raised me, and to support my education, she painstakingly embroidered with every needle and thread—nearly straining her eyesight. As her son, how could I ever repay her boundless kindness?” Even if the oil on top were so cloyingly excessive, he would still smile and say, “Thank you, Mother.”

“My… wife. She was once the cherished daughter of a prominent family; in my darkest, most impoverished days, she married me. A wife who has shared in the hardships of life cannot be discarded, and I likewise must not fail her.”

Yet his wife never knew that he didn’t like eating fish.

“My cousin—she…”

Lu Feng could bear no more and interrupted him, “Attendants, Master Pei is drunk! Escort him back.”

Perhaps others would say Master Pei was gentle and considerate, but Lu Feng saw it as vacillating and weak! He could hardly believe that someone like Pei Zhang—talented enough to be personally acknowledged by the Emperor as a “heaven-gifted talent”—could be ensnared by the women of his inner household.

Pei Zhang possessed immense talent, and His Majesty intended to make full use of him. Lu Feng’s remark for him to “attend to his household affairs” was both a reminder and a subtle admonition.

Pei Zhang clearly understood Lu Feng’s unspoken meaning; with a courteous bow of farewell, he said nothing more.

Watching the figure of Pei Zhang—upright as green bamboo—disappear, Lu Feng felt a trace of regret. He waved and commanded one of his junior officers, “Among His Majesty’s bestowed gifts, there is a piece of soft armor. Send it to Master Pei.”

Xiao Qi stammered, “This… sir, that soft armor is said to be impervious to blades and spears, and His Majesty has reserved it for your self-defense. Wouldn’t it be a pity to give it to Master Pei?”

Lu Feng replied coolly, “It’s just a piece of lightweight armor; it’s not that extraordinary.”

No object in this world is entirely impervious to blades and spears. Lu Feng had examined it meticulously—if it were up to him, exerting eighty percent of his strength would be enough to break through this soft armor. With one powerful blow, he could subdue ten opponents at once. By the age of fifteen, he was already capable of drawing a hard bow weighing 300 shi; his arm strength was truly astounding.

Having been on the battlefield and witnessing mountains of corpses and seas of blood, Lu Feng learned one crucial lesson: the best defense is a good offense. If one is forced to rely solely on defense, one is already at a disadvantage. To Lu Feng, this item lacked appeal—using it would be as bland as eating tasteless food, yet he would be reluctant to discard it—but for a scholar like Pei Zhang, it is perfectly suited. Who knows, it might even save his life at a critical moment.

Xiao Qi withdrew on his orders. Lu Feng then recalled the travel bag his wife had prepared for him, and a wave of comfort filled his heart, though he did not immediately inspect its contents. He carefully put away the map and commanded, “Attendants, please bring Lord Xu and Lord Liu here for a discussion.”

The opposition—like a centipede, even when seemingly dead—remained ever-active; he still had many tasks to complete. This time, he would catch them all in one fell swoop!

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Pei Zhang returned to the Pei residence. He neither went back to the main courtyard nor visited his mother—he went straight to the study.

The servant spotted him and quickly hurried over. “Sir, everything you instructed has been prepared. Here’s the list for your review.”

Pei Zhang glanced at it and said, “Not bad. First, store it in the repository… wait—” He called back the nearby servant, “Make a copy of this list exactly as it is, and deliver one to Master Lu of Jinlong Bureau.”

“Ah?” The servant’s eyes widened. “But this is something you painstakingly compiled over several nights—just handing it over for nothing?”

While preparing his travel bag earlier, the servant had marveled inwardly at how meticulous and prudent his master was—leaving nothing unconsidered. That list was more valuable than real gold or silver. How could it be given away so cheaply to someone else?

“It’s merely an inanimate object—nothing precious. Send it along.”

With a slightly tired gesture, Pei Zhang waved his hand and ordered the servant, “Now, fetch me a bottle of camphor pills.”

Lately, he had had insomnia and restless dreams, waking up with a splitting headache. The doctor had prescribed a bottle of camphor pills—the intense, pungent flavor was said to rush straight to his mind and ease his pain a bit.

However, since camphor, while invigorating, also carries a certain toxicity, the doctor had cautioned him to watch the dosage. The servant wanted to remind him, but when he looked up and saw the cool, distant set of Pei Zhang’s brows, the words died on his lips.

Though his lord was usually of a gentle temper, when his expression turned cold, it was truly fearsome. Ever since coming to the capital, his authority had grown so formidable that even the old madam dared not casually summon him to the backyard. And he—a mere servant—what business does he have meddling in such matters?

Pei Zhang entered the study, picked up a small porcelain bottle from the desk, and held it to his nose to inhale its scent gently.

He had a headache again. Lately, he had been experiencing two recurring dreams. In the first dream, he found himself in that damp, shabby alleyway, where a voluptuous and beautiful woman, clad in a flowing orange-red garment, knelt before him. With lowered brows and a gentle demeanor, she softly addressed him as “Master Pei.”

She appeared so close that he moved toward her, yet no matter how hard he tried, he could not reach her. Struggling in vain, he abruptly awoke—alone in his thin clothing and meager bedding. He opened the window and gazed at a full moon hanging in the heavy darkness of the night sky, his mind awash with countless thoughts.

Since childhood, he had been schooled in the teachings of the sages—learning propriety, righteousness, and a sense of shame—yet, astonishingly, he had developed such forbidden thoughts for a married woman. In that moment of awakening, Pei Zhang harbored a daring and absurd idea.

Fortunately.

Fortunately, she was the wife of his superior, and moreover, she had a husband whose power dominated the court. Had she been married to a mere commoner, a nobody, who knows what he might have done?

The sages say that one should judge actions by their deeds rather than by one’s inner intentions—for in matters of the heart, no one is perfect.

He reasoned that perhaps beauty is inherently alluring, and mere appearances had momentarily enchanted him. A woman of the inner court and an official of the state—having exercised self-restraint and observed proper decorum—the two of them were never destined to intersect in this lifetime.

He resolved to find a way to forget her. Yet, some things refuse to be controlled; the more he tried to forget her, the more she haunted his thoughts.

While he was tossing and turning over that dream, he slipped into another.

In this dream, the familiar bookshop appeared, and a girl with hazy features walked in to buy medical texts.

She spoke very eloquently, “Shopkeeper, your book has a torn corner—and its pages are worm-eaten. Aside from my taking it, it’s fit only to be left in a warehouse for the worms.”

“It’s only off by two copper coins; why sweat the small details?”

At that moment, the shopkeeper did not yet look so aged. Dressed in his usual long blue robe, he said with resigned exasperation, “Young lady, you haggled the price down from thirty copper coins to fifteen, and now—at the final moment—you only have thirteen to offer. You simply can’t bargain like that.”

The girl held her head high though the corners of her eyes had reddened.

She replied, “I’m not taking it for free. Next time I go out, I’ll give you three more, will that do? My mother is ill—I need to take her to see a doctor and get some medicine.”

In amazement, the shopkeeper exclaimed, “You girl, you can’t even come up with fifteen copper coins, and yet you want to buy medicine? If merely reading a medical book made you a physician, even I—an old man—could take the imperial exam and become the top scholar!”

“I see you dress richly; you don’t look like a poor girl’s daughter. Now, hurry up—the shop is open for business, not a place for play.”

The girl said nothing and did not leave; she stood motionless there. Not quite knowing what to make of it—even though he was in such a sorry state himself—the shopkeeper stepped forward and extended his open hand.

“If you don’t mind, Miss, I have two copper coins here that you can use in an emergency.”

The girl examined him from head to toe and said, “I pity your poverty, and you don’t look like a rich gentleman’s son. Since our meeting is purely by chance, aren’t you worried I might not repay you?”

“Repayment? Of course, it will be repaid—there’s nothing to worry about.” He smiled bitterly and said, “I do one good deed every day, accumulating virtue.”

“The clothes I wear are fine silks and brocades, while yours are merely coarse hemp—have you noticed?”

“I know.”

“Just now, that shopkeeper remarked that I was frivolously fooling around—did you hear him?”

“I know.”

The girl paused for a moment before asking him, “What is your name?”