Chapter 6

Meng Xizhao regretted it.

How had this young man grown so heavy?

At first, it was a little weight; soon, it was so heavy that Meng Xizhao’s shoulders nearly buckled.

All his strength was spent supporting Cui Ye. He didn’t notice that half of Cui Ye’s body weight rested on his shoulder, and Jinzhu, trying to help, couldn’t even reach him.

Watching Meng Xizhao’s grimacing face while Cui Ye looked increasingly relaxed, one might think he was draining Meng Xizhao of his energy.

Fortunately, Cui Ye’s home wasn’t far. After a few more paces, they arrived.

Setting him at the door, Meng Xizhao panted, “You go in, I’ll leave.”

Cui Ye’s complexion improved slightly; the cold sweat had lessened. He blocked Meng Xizhao, smiling: “Young master, thank you for helping me today. I have little to offer, only a cup of plain tea.”

Meng Xizhao paused mid-wipe, impressed by Cui Ye’s demeanor.

Cui Ye: “?”

Meng Xizhao: “Tea is fine…”

Cui Ye straightened, serious: “I have reformed. From now on, I am a proper gentleman.”

Cui Ye: “…”

Jinzhu: “…”

Cui Ye felt a sudden urge to jump into the Qinhuai River in embarrassment. Jinzhu looked stunned. Slowly, he realized: “You think I’m—”

Then he laughed. “My tea is most suitable for a gentleman. Young master, don’t refuse. Come in for a cup—you’ve already broken a sweat, and staying out here may catch a chill.”

Meng Xizhao: “Who made me break a sweat? And why are you so heavy?”

Looking more closely, this man wasn’t just heavy—he was tall, at least half a head taller than Meng Xizhao.

…Was the aesthetic for men in these times just “the taller and the better”?

Cui Ye invited him repeatedly, and refusing further would be impolite. Since Meng Xizhao had already made clear he had no interest in paying for companionship, having a cup of tea inside seemed harmless enough.

With that logic, he agreed. Cui Ye, ever fond of smiling, returned a small grin before lightly knocking on the door.

A seemingly ordinary man opened it, initially startled at Cui Ye’s disheveled state. Before he could speak, his gaze landed on Meng Xizhao.

“Sir, how did you end up like this? Come in—you are…”

Meng Xizhao introduced himself: “I am Meng Xizhao; you may call me Meng Er.”

In the Great Qi, people addressed each other by birth order. Meng Xizhao was second in his family, so “Meng Er” was perfectly fine.

The man at the door didn’t respond, instead glancing at Cui Ye. Cui Ye smiled softly: “Then may I call you Second Young Master from now on?”

Meng Xizhao: “…Really, I said I didn’t want to spend money on companionship, yet you’re still all clingy. Well, maybe it’s his profession; it’s become second nature.” He nodded.

Cui Ye said nothing more, nor did he formally introduce his household. He stepped inside, Meng Xizhao followed, and Jinzhu crossed the threshold, her gaze lingering on the man at the door.

The man noticed but pretended not to. He closed the door behind them.

From the outside, the courtyard looked unremarkable, but inside it revealed another world. The furnishings weren’t as extravagant as Sang Fanyu’s, but it was clear only someone of means could afford them.

Meng Xizhao sat down. Cui Ye prepared tea across from him, seemingly unfazed by Meng Xizhao’s inspection of the room.

Suddenly, Meng Xizhao’s gaze froze for a moment, then quickly moved elsewhere, continuing to casually look around.

Once he finished scanning the room, he politely asked Cui Ye, “Are you feeling better now?”

Cui Ye handed him the tea: “Much better. It’s just an old ailment flaring up—nothing serious. And with your help, Second Young Master, I recover even faster.”

Meng Xizhao took the tea with both hands, pretending to warm himself, smiling: “I’m no doctor. How could I have such power? Does this ailment always hit you so hard?”

Cui Ye shook his head: “Only occasionally.”

Meng Xizhao smiled again, about to suggest he go rest, when Cui Ye asked: “Does the tea not suit your taste?”

Meng Xizhao: “…I’m more worried about whether I suit yours.”

His eyes unconsciously flicked to the two sheathed hand knives in the corner, but he caught himself, holding the tea awkwardly.

Suddenly, Jinzhu seemed to remember something: “My lord, last time at the Huichun Hall, Doctor Cheng said your stomach is weak; after noon you shouldn’t drink tea. I… I forgot and caused you to be careful yourself.”

She smiled apologetically at Cui Ye: “My lord is kind-hearted, rarely refusing anyone’s good intentions—even with us servants.”

Cui Ye was strikingly handsome, but when he wasn’t smiling, it was his eyes that captured attention. Jinzhu felt a sudden urge to flee.

Meng Xizhao, nervous, pressed his lips, then slammed the tea cup down.

He revealed his usual temper: “Why bring this up? Don’t you know how much I hate being told what to do? At home it’s my parents, now you’re trying too? And using Doctor Cheng to pressure me—fine! I’ll call him ‘Old Cheng’ from now on! I refuse to let him stick those needles in me again!”

Jinzhu panicked: “My lord, you can’t ignore medical advice! If you don’t go today, the madam will—”

Meng Xizhao slammed the table, spilling tea, clearly in a tantrum: “Enough! Stop!”

Cui Ye observed them leisurely, finding it amusing. He poured himself a cup of tea and sipped slowly.

Meng Xizhao: “…“

Jinzhu began crying: “My lord, if you don’t go, I won’t have the face to return to the madam.”

After three seconds of her whimpering, Meng Xizhao suddenly rose. “I should never have brought you out! Nagging like this is maddening! Fine, fine, we’ll go today, but tomorrow… absolutely not!”

He looked apologetically at Cui Ye: “I…”

Before he could speak further, Cui Ye stood, understanding: “The girl is right. One cannot ignore medical advice. Since the appointment is set, go quickly—don’t anger the old doctor.”

Meng Xizhao was deeply touched, promising to return and check on him, as if they were long-time friends.

Exiting, Jinzhu hurried to keep up. Meng Xizhao shot her a weary glance; she complied, and soon the master and servant left the courtyard.

The small servant at the door frowned as he watched them leave, then hurried back anxiously once the door closed.

“Your Highness! You just let them leave?!”

Cui Ye set his half-finished tea down, raising his eyelids: “And what do you propose?”

“Kill them!”

Cui Ye: “That’s Meng Jiuyu’s youngest son. If you kill him, do you want Meng Jiuyu and the Wu Guogong residence coming after me?”

The young servant pouted: “Still, we can’t just let them leave like that—they saw you…”

They did see him, but didn’t recognize him.

Cui Ye had never cared much for his own looks, though he knew he was striking—people normally wouldn’t forget someone like him. Now, suddenly encountering someone who forgot so completely, Cui Ye found it curious.

He lightly rubbed his thumb over the tea cup twice and made a decision: “Do not act rashly. You go find Yu Fulan. The medicine just kicked in and we got separated—let him make his way back to the palace on his own. No need to look for me again.”

The servant nodded and went out.

Meanwhile, Meng Xizhao and Jinzhu kept up their act of a tyrannical master and obedient servant until they turned the corner and left the alley. Only then did they exchange a glance and quicken their pace.

Reaching the riverside and hearing the distant hubbub of the brothel district, they finally relaxed.

Jinzhu clutched her chest: “My lord, what a plan! I truly thought I’d die of fright!”

Meng Xizhao: “You weren’t bad yourself—calm under pressure and quick-witted. If you hadn’t handled that, I might have ended up drinking that cup of tea.”

They complimented each other briefly. Leaning against a wall, Meng Xizhao frowned: “Who exactly are those two people?”

Jinzhu shook her head: “I don’t know, my lord.”

Meng Xizhao guessed: “Could they be spies from another country?”

Several neighboring nations to Great Qi would routinely send spies, and spies often showed up in brothel districts.

Jinzhu hesitated: “By their looks, they seem to be from Great Qi. My lord, should we tell the master when we return?”

Meng Xizhao paused.

If they were spies, reporting it would be a good deed—but if they weren’t… with his father’s temper, even a false alarm would earn someone a severe punishment.

A headache.

Meng Xizhao rubbed his temples. “Forget it. We’ll deal with returning later. First, let’s see if there’s a carriage for hire nearby—I don’t want to stay outside a moment longer.”

Jinzhu agreed, keeping him in a crowded area to wait briefly before leaving, promising not to wander off. Meng Xizhao stood casually, suddenly hearing laughter from above.

He looked up and saw a young man drinking closely with a woman through an open window. Since he didn’t know them, Meng Xizhao quickly looked away.

Chapter 7: Cheating

Back home, the singing girls immediately approached under Yinliu’s lead to attend to Meng Xizhao.

With waist massages, tea service, and drinks brought to him, Meng Xizhao wished he could stay indoors forever.

After some time, a soft voice sounded from above: “Did you enjoy yourself today?”

Meng Xizhao jolted upright in bed, smiling warmly as he gestured for his mother to sit: “I did, I did.”

Madam Meng snorted: “I see. After returning home, you don’t even come to visit your mother.”

Meng Xizhao: “…I was just too tired.”

Madam Meng frowned: “What is there to be tired from?”

He immediately began to complain: “Mother, you don’t know—Fu Jicai took the carriage midway. After that, Jinzhu and I couldn’t find him and got lost. We walked forever before finally renting another carriage.”

Madam Meng reacted sharply: “He dared to play tricks on you after all you’ve done for him?!”

Meng Xizhao: “…“

“He didn’t do it on purpose. It can’t be called trickery…”

Madam Meng swished her sleeve: “You, you’re too kind-hearted! People take advantage of kindness, don’t you know? I said he shouldn’t be let off easily. See? Now he’s gotten bold!”

Mistake—his mother was overly protective. He should have stayed quiet.

Meng Xizhao was about to reason with her when a maid entered: “My lord, madam, the Marquis of Ningyuan’s heir has arrived again.”

Meng Xizhao: “…“

Fu Jicai, comforted by another companion and having drunk a little more, staggered over to find Meng Xizhao. Learning that Meng Xizhao had already returned, he felt offended, thinking Meng Xizhao rude.

Then, reminded by a servant, he recalled Meng Xizhao had brought a beautiful maid out with him. Without carriage or company, had something happened outside?

The alcohol cleared his head immediately. After searching nearby and finding nothing, he arrived at the Council Office, nervously asking if Meng Xizhao had returned.

Madam Meng saw Fu Jicai and snorted coldly.

Fu Jicai dared not speak; he had never been so cautious even before his own father.

Of course, it wasn’t fear of women—he simply feared Madam Meng.

After all, she was notorious as a highborn shrew—beating officials, berating the Grand Tutor’s wife, even her father, the Duke of Wu, dared not raise his voice in her presence, lest he incur her wrath.

Seeing this, Meng Xizhao told his mother: “Mother, today’s fault isn’t the heir’s. I ran off and got separated from him.”

Madam Meng wasn’t usually abusive, and since her son pleaded, she relented. She knew young masters needed face; punishing Fu Jicai might make her son angrier.

“Seeing that my son pleaded, I’ll let it go this time.”

She added: “But if it happens again, I won’t forgive you. I’ll go to the Marquis of Ningyuan’s residence and ask how his mother taught him!”

Fu Jicai: “…“

Better not. My mother’s scarier than yours.

With that, Madam Meng left. Fu Jicai kept his head lowered, trembling, until her figure was out of sight. Only then did he straighten up, finally returning to his true self.

Slouched sideways in the chair beside Meng Xizhao, he pointed at the tea cup. “Hurry up and serve me some tea.”

Tilting his head back, he looked at Meng Xizhao with satisfaction. “Thanks, you’re not bad—loyal and righteous.”

Meng Xizhao glanced at him, grabbed the tea cup by his hand, and with a swift motion, tossed it onto the carpet. The cup rolled across the floor for quite a while before finally stopping.

Fu Jicai: “What are you trying to do?!”

Meng Xizhao: “And what about you? You said you’d come out to have fun with me, but halfway through, you ran off—taking the carriage with you! Do you know how long I waited in the cold for you? Do you know how far I walked today? Do you know what walking all that way does to someone who’s barely recovered from a serious injury?”

Fu Jicai: “…………”

Wait, what serious injury? That bump on his forehead had already gone down!

But today, he was clearly in the wrong. Sitting obediently, he asked, “Then what do you want me to do?”

Meng Xizhao sized him up and, finding him reasonable enough, said: “After you screwed me over like this, don’t you owe me some compensation?”

Fu Jicai laughed. “Is that all? Fine. Tomorrow, I’ll set up a table at Wangjiang Pavilion and invite the finest singing girls to entertain you.”

Meng Xizhao: “Bah! You think a meal makes up for it? I lied to my mother for your sake just now—I never lie to her!”

Jinzhu, attending nearby, thought to herself that he hadn’t lied much before, but now… who knew?

Feeling the stakes had risen, Fu Jicai finally fell for it. He sighed. “Fine, I owe you. Speak—what do you want?”

Meng Xizhao beckoned with a hand. Fu Jicai leaned in, curious.

“I heard your Ningyuan Marquis household keeps quite a few singing girls—several generations, male and female, old and young?”

Fu Jicai: “……”

Puzzled, Fu Jicai left. Meng Xizhao lay back for a while, resting his legs that were close to turning back into a primitive ape’s. Only then did he get up, grab a brush, and start sketching and writing on pristine rice paper.

The brush, ink, and paper had come from his older brother, Meng Xian. Believing his younger brother was finally applying himself, Meng Xian had been moved enough to personally deliver a new set. Later, seeing Meng Xizhao holding the brush like a pair of chopsticks, he silently paused for a long while before quietly leaving.

Employee—check.

Brand ambassador—check.

There were about ten items on the paper, and only two had been checked off. The rest needed to be completed within a month to officially open before the spring imperial examination.

The urgency came from the person behind the scenes—they were already getting anxious. If one plan failed, another would follow. Meng Xizhao didn’t have time to play games; next year, his family faced annihilation. Now, he had to accomplish in one year what others couldn’t in twenty—a triple leap in strategy.

How much influence could a playboy wield? To accomplish more, he needed more status.

Of course, while planning for the future, he had to control the present. Otherwise, if the backyard caught fire, there would be no escaping the fate of total family extermination.

According to the book’s storyline, Meng Xizhao forcibly taking a commoner’s daughter was just an opening—it wasn’t the direct cause of the Council Office’s downfall. After he was apprehended, the second to be caught was his older brother, the legendary talent Meng Xian.

Meng Xian was indeed clever, but like a version of Shang Zhongyong in Great Qi, his brilliance as a child faded as he grew up. He fell in with a rowdy crowd, indulged in pleasure, and realized he preferred glittering gold and jewels over dull books.

The family thought he was diligently studying at the imperial academy, but in reality, he was researching ways to make money. Tragically, he had little aptitude for business, losing money every time. His parents almost discovered this, realizing he wasn’t cut out for it. So Meng Xian chose a workaround: return to studies, excel, earn a degree, then let his father arrange a post in the Ministry of Revenue—become Great Qi’s richest man.

Admittedly, his logic was… remarkable. Yet he forgot one thing: abandoned studies aren’t easily reclaimed.

Though he now studied diligently, it couldn’t match his childhood. He could feel his old talent gone, replaced by the stench of coin. So despite his composed, collected appearance, Meng Xian was anxious inside.

He feared failing the imperial exam—a shame for a child prodigy recognized by the emperor.

Later, someone introduced him to a groomed household guest of the upcoming spring examination’s chief examiner. This person knew the topic and the correct approach. Meng Xian, skeptical, took the exam and discovered it was exactly that topic. Overjoyed, he applied the method and successfully passed the exam.

But the good fortune was short-lived. Soon after, accusations of exam fraud arose. Everyone using that angle was apprehended. The emperor was furious. Meng Xian, at the forefront, would have been executed immediately if not for ministerial intervention.

The youngest son forcibly taking a commoner, the eldest cheating in the exams, even their daughter was compromised—mixing with princes, private tutoring. What were the odds of having one ruined child after another? The emperor was displeased with Meng Jiuyu, and opportunists leapt to strike, bringing down the Council Office in one blow.

Meng Xizhao pondered.

His younger sister’s contact with the prince could wait; it wasn’t a matter of a day or two. From observation, Meng Jiaojiao often locked herself in her room, holding a flower letter, smiling faintly. Clearly, she had been involved with the prince before he arrived. Stopping her now might provoke rebellion.

Better to first focus on his elder brother. With the spring exams approaching, the trapdoor guest should soon reveal themselves.