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Nene Yashiro

Tang Jiwei is a Reincarnated Fox

Madam Xiao knew that her son was a worry-free child. His talent was often praised by the teachers at the academy. Even though he came from a poor background, he managed to hold his own among the wealthy students without losing his true self.

Overcome with emotion, Madam Xiao suddenly burst into tears and went back to their home to embrace the tablet of her deceased father, crying inconsolably. Their son had finally grown up and learned to feel compassion for her. In the past, when someone came to ask him to create counterfeit items, he absolutely refused. The integrity of a scholar kept him from yielding, even if it meant subsisting on meager rations.
Madam Xiao didn’t want to raise a son who was just a bookworm; she knew how difficult it was to navigate the world of officials, where one often felt powerless. Her youngest son had to start by giving up some of his principles.

Back then, Madam Xiao was also the daughter of an official, but she had fallen into poverty after eloping with Tang Laopai. She had received a good education and had seen much of the world. She was willing to do laundry and odd jobs for others because she wanted her son to grow up in that environment, to understand that clinging to the pride of a scholar would only make his mother toil endlessly.

Poverty and helplessness would always be the best motivators for changing one’s circumstances.

And Madam Xiao’s gamble paid off; now, Tang Jiwei truly felt compassion.

Watching Madam Xiao cry, Tang Jiwei turned and went back to his room. He wondered what kind of man Tang Laopai had been to make such an intelligent and resilient woman like Madam Xiao abandon her wealth and dignity. He must have been a charismatic young man, perhaps even good-looking. Otherwise, how could Tang Jiwei have inherited such striking features?

“Your father? He’s a big, ugly man!” Madam Xiao said.

Tang Jiwei couldn’t believe it. How could a fat, ugly poor man possibly win over a woman of such high standards? This didn’t match the stories he had read, where every scholar who eloped with a lady was handsome and charming.

“A scholar? He was just a butcher with no education!” Madam Xiao added as she stoked the fire in the stove.

Tang Jiwei, leaning against the doorframe with a book in hand, pondered seriously. This man was neither well-educated nor charming, nor was he wealthy. The key point was he was just a butcher, yet he managed to capture the heart of the still graceful Madam Xiao. Tang Jiwei couldn’t help but ask further.

“True sincerity, I guess. He would bring his shiny money box to me to show goodwill. That made me realize that such an honest person wouldn’t pull any tricks,” Madam Xiao explained.

Tang Jiwei was in the middle of crafting counterfeits at his desk when he looked up and asked, “True sincerity? Doesn’t it matter where he came from?”

“What does background matter? You can’t take anything with you when you die. I only regret that I didn’t scold him more when he was alive,” Madam Xiao said, biting the thread, her face still wearing a warm smile.

Tang Jiwei glanced back at the tablet for Tang Laopai, which had no portrait, but he felt as though his father was smiling down at them, silently content.

The royal family is heartless; he was the one who had taken the wrong path and chosen the wrong person!

With Tang Jiwei’s income, their household began to thrive. Madam Xiao no longer did laundry for others, only occasionally taking short jobs. In her words, as long as there was enough money, it was fine. If she forced herself to suffer, she would only end up needing to spend that money on medicine.

Tang Jiwei admired her carefree attitude. In chaotic times, his easygoing mother would undoubtedly be a heroic woman on horseback, bold and unrestrained.

Life flowed smoothly like water. They would go out to buy books, listen to the scholars debate current affairs, and copy some masterpieces. Occasionally, he would take his easygoing mother to watch plays and listen to stories. Such comfortable times were like the gentle spring breeze of March and April, warm but not scorching.

Tang Jiwei reclined on a bamboo chair at the barefoot doctor’s house next door, covering his face with a book, enjoying this peaceful time under the warm sun.

“You little rascal, coming over every day to take my chair without paying?” the barefoot doctor complained while sunning his herbs, clearly displeased with the audacity of the boy.

Tang Jiwei dreamed of the osmanthus porridge his family used to make in his past life—sweet and glutinous, leaving a lingering fragrance on his lips. He smiled and responded to the voice in his ear, “Bring back the rice wine my mother brewed!”

The barefoot doctor rubbed his nose, pretending not to hear as he busily ground the herbs. This kid could count every advantage he took. Before he figured out the boy’s weakness, he wisely decided to drink some of Xiao Shi’s rice wine and think it over.

“Brother, something has happened!” Tang De shouted, startling Tang Jiwei who was sitting on the chair.

He stood up, brushing off the fallen petals, and asked, “What happened?”

Tang De stammered, struggling to form a coherent sentence, with only the first part making any sense to Tang Jiwei.

“This is how it is; what should we do?”

The last part was clearer, and the barefoot doctor nodded at Tang Jiwei.

It was just that the eldest son of the Jingzhao Yin had taken a fancy to Tang Mi, who was like a budding flower, despite already having nine concubines. Tang Jiwei was not adept at forcing marriage but was experienced in bringing down opposing factions in the officialdom.

“Brother, what should we do?” Tang De asked, sweating.

His parents thought that with only Tang Jiwei as a scholar in the family, he might have some ideas, which was why they sent Tang De to find him.

“Where’s my mother?”

Tang De replied, “Mother took a knife and is going to… well, castrate him!”

Tang Jiwei stroked his chin in thought. His easygoing mother clearly wanted him to take action. Such a straightforward approach was too unlike her style; her way was to carry a coffin and sing a eulogy!

The barefoot doctor watched the commotion. Such gossip was rare nowadays, and the more he saw, the more material he had to boast about later.

Tang Jiwei spent the afternoon writing up several documents detailing over twenty charges against the Jingzhao Yin. Each document had a unique style and tone. He even imitated the handwriting of several high-ranking officials to create invitations and attached letters discussing the crimes of the Jingzhao Yin.

“Here, wait until it gets late, then send these out according to what I wrote. Don’t get it mixed up!” Tang Jiwei dried the last document, sealed it in an envelope, and handed it to Tang De.

Tang De anxiously said, “Why are you writing about the father when the Jingzhao Yin’s son committed the crime? Brother, isn’t Jingzhao Yin still considered a decent official?”

Tang Jiwei sat down to drink tea, shaking his head and sighing at Tang De’s foolishness. “The upper beam isn’t straight, so how can the lower beam be? Just because he plays the role of a clean official doesn’t mean he is one. If he truly cared for the people like his own children, would he allow his son to have nine concubines? In military strategy, they call this ‘encircling Wei to rescue Zhao’ ^[1] Encircling Wei to rescue Zhao- means diverting an enemy’s attention to aid an ally. If you want to catch a thief, catch the king first; you need to read more!”

Tang De was left confused. Did the scoundrel not marry any relatives? How could that be? He didn’t understand Tang Jiwei’s sharp tongue and just tucked the letter away, preparing to set out with some friends under the cover of night!
Tang Jiwei was adept at using others to do his dirty work; he and Han Zhen had mastered this technique to perfection. Despite the courtiers’ current loyalty to the emperor and their obedience, Tang Jiwei knew that Han Zhen was the best at balancing the relationships among various factions. He would slap you in the face, then give you a sweet date, leaving you smiling in gratitude.

His method worked like this in the civilian world: three people could create a tiger out of thin air. When it came to the officials embroiled in factional struggles, whether Jingzhao Yin had embezzled or abused his power, if he hadn’t, he would have to! Besides, the morning court would surely start with one person speaking, followed by everyone else chiming in. You might think that person was his sworn enemy, but they would be the stumbling block for you! Regardless of who struck first, Jingzhao Yin’s official career would come to an end.

The most crucial part was the last letter, which was addressed to a residence outside Chief EunuchLi Sheng Palace. Some would doubt it, thinking it was a frame-up, but Chief Eunuch Li Sheng would make them believe it.

Who was Chief Eunuch Li Sheng? A close eunuch to Han Zhen who had risked everything for the stability of the country and the safety of the people. How could he not give other officials some pointers? He had secret networks that could even dig up dirt on your family grave, so how could he not gather evidence? As long as he caught Chief Eunuch Li Sheng’s attention, Han Zhen wouldn’t even need to intervene; Chief Eunuch Li Sheng would verify it himself.

Gu Zhengguan was a sly little fox. This was the evaluation of the late emperor after Gu Zhengguan had used fire to burn down Han Zhen’s palace and then turned around to frame the negligent night guards, leading to the execution of the entire palace staff.

In his youth, he discovered that all the eunuchs and palace maids in Han Zhen’s court were the empress’s spies, trying to eliminate the greatest threat to the crown prince—this thorn in the empress’s side.

Han Zhen was like a fierce tiger, good at long-term concealment and striking a deadly blow. Gu Zhengguan was a combination of a leopard and a fox, skilled at disguising himself as a harmless little cat to scare you, but when necessary, he would feign madness to remove you.

Han Zhen would swap the food brought to him with that of the poisoned servant, clearing threats one by one, while Gu Zhengguan would set the palace ablaze, ending everything in one fell swoop.

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The author has something to say: Little Theater

Little Young Master: “Zhen Zhen, goodbye!”

Little Prince: frowning “What are you going to do this time?”

Little Young Master: “The next time we meet, we’ll be enemies. You understand, right?”

Little Prince: pouting “I owe you a life? You’ve said that many times already!”

Little Young Master: “No, that’s not it. I mean, next time you should pretend not to know me!”

Little Prince: turning away “I never knew you to begin with!”

Hey! Tsundere is a trait exclusive to the Little Young Master!

Also, over there, dear readers, do you have any collections?

No? If you don’t, I’ll make the Little Young Master cry for you!

Tired of it?

Lan Lan slams the table. Damn, I’ll make the Little Prince cry!

What? You brought the collection? Oh, oh, Little Zhen Zhen is crying. If you don’t hurry, I’ll pinch the Little Young Master’s cheeks