“You’re hanging your head, looking all glum—think today isn’t embarrassing enough?”
Back at the Liu home, father and son were in a foul mood. Liu Jin was seething, and seeing Liu Wu’s downcast face only made him angrier.
“Father, does that mean the marriage is off?”
“Are you deaf? Didn’t you hear what they said? Stop worrying about it—they never even considered you!”
Liu Wu’s face flushed; being so openly rebuked, even if it was his father’s words, bruised his pride. Having been rejected twice, he felt stung: “But we already boasted to Steward Huang… what if he asks?”
“That’s just because you babbled foolishly. Whom are you blaming? Besides, Huang Zhi Xing was only being polite. The manor has a doctor; they just happened to be back in town for a couple of days. Later, they’ll still need the Jiang father and son.” Liu Jin scolded: “If you hadn’t spoken recklessly, would I have had to endure this today?”
“You’re just like your mother, never giving peace of mind. When will you ever learn from your elder brother? Get out, go!”
Liu Wu was still frustrated, wanting to argue, but his father’s scolding sent him storming out, face red with irritation.
As he left, he clenched his fists tightly, a glint of resolve and anger in his eyes.
With the Liu marriage proposal rejected, Bai Lan could finally enjoy a good night’s sleep.
The night was quiet; a gentle rain fell later, accompanied by soft rumbles of thunder. The calm made the night feel even more serene.
Early the next morning, the courtyard was dry. Bai Lan yawned sleepily as his father rose as well.
Half-awake, Bai Lan wanted to ask what his father wished to eat for breakfast so he could prepare it. A neighbor, just finishing early work in the fields and heading home, called out from outside the gate:
“Bai Lan, Doctor Jiang, I just passed your herb garden and noticed some of the plants have fallen over. You should go check it out quickly!”
Hearing the shout, Bai Lan and Jiang Zichun exchanged a glance and hurried toward the fields.
Farmers guard even a single plot of land like their own eyes, and a herbal doctor values his herbs no less.
“The rain the day before yesterday was heavy, yet I thought the herbs were fine. Yesterday’s rain was light, so it shouldn’t have done much damage.”
Bai Lan jogged to keep up with his father, offering reassurances along the way. These herbs were practically half of his father’s life; if they were ruined, it would be devastating.
“Cursed heavens, how could it come to this!”
When they reached their herb fields, Jiang Zichun let out a shocked roar, almost collapsing to his knees.
Bai Lan was stunned to see all three of their herb plots completely wrecked. Yesterday, the herbs had been lush and upright; today, leaves were scattered, stalks snapped, and the fields looked like a battlefield.
He could hardly speak, walking dazedly into the rows, picking up a single plant. The morning was still cool, and the broken herbs were fresh and crisp. The air was thick with the pungent scent of crushed herbs.
“How could this happen?”
Jiang Zichun bent over, gathering the remaining stalks in his trembling hands, clutching them to his chest with a painful ache.
Seeing this, Bai Lan felt a surge of anger. He furrowed his brows and said, “This isn’t the work of rain. Someone did this on purpose!”
Villagers passing by saw the commotion and came closer to watch. Though these weren’t their own fields, anyone who tills the land knows the pain of seeing crops destroyed, and murmurs of sympathy spread.
“Look at this! Not trying to steal herbs, just destroying them—what kind of wickedness is this?”
“Yes, yes, who could be so cruel to do this to someone?”
Bai Lan ignored the gossip, bending over to right herbs that hadn’t fully snapped. Looking down, he noticed hoofprints in the mud and exclaimed, “Father, look! These prints look like a mule’s.”
“There aren’t many households with mules in the village. The closest one…”
The villagers whispered guesses, but no one dared to name the family outright.
Bai Lan, however, was furious and spoke without hesitation: “It’s the Liu family.”
Jiang Zichun glanced at Bai Lan. While the villagers sympathized with him, if the Liu family were responsible, none dared speak recklessly.
Following the trail, Bai Lan climbed into the field and tracked the hoofprints despite last night’s rain. The soft mud had preserved the deep imprints, leading straight toward the Liu household.
“Father, it must have been the Liu family!”
Jiang Zichun was naturally gentle and preferred to avoid conflict, but with his fields ruined, even he could no longer remain mild. He followed Bai Lan toward the Liu house, the villagers trailing behind, whispering as they walked.
“Ah, isn’t this Master Jiang? Up early this morning, have you changed your mind?”
Liu Jin came out and saw them, initially planning to put on a stern face. Seeing several villagers around, he forced a polite smile: “Why, everyone’s here?”
Jiang Zichun found Liu Jin’s false politeness revolting and ignored it. He held up the herbs: “I request an explanation, Master Liu. Why on earth would you trample the herbs that we have painstakingly grown?”
Liu Jin glanced at the mugwort in Jiang Zichun’s hands and scoffed.
“Master Jiang, what is the meaning of bringing villagers here to make a scene without proof? It rained last night; for you to blame my family for broken herbs is laughable! Our fields may not be as vast as Zanyu Manor’s hundreds of acres, but we have over a hundred acres ourselves. Who has time for such idle mischief?”
Jiang Zichun’s patience snapped: “Your fields are wide and connected, yet only my herb plots were destroyed. The hoofprints clearly lead to your property. This is solid evidence!”
Liu Jin’s brow tightened. Liu Wu, hearing the commotion, came out to see what was happening. Meeting the indignant faces of Jiang Zichun and Bai Lan, he sensed something was wrong but kept his wooden, superior expression. Only when Liu Jin shot him a glance did he avert his eyes, uneasy.
A parent knows their child best. One look told Liu Jin it had been his useless son, but admitting it openly would be a loss of face—something he could never allow before the villagers.
“These villagers don’t even know we have mules. To claim this solely based on hoofprints is reckless. What if someone else led a mule past our gate on purpose? We have no quarrel, so why would the Liu family commit such a despicable act?”
Jiang Zichun hadn’t expected Liu Jin to distort the facts so shamelessly. Seeing this, he refused to show restraint: “Yesterday, Master Liu came to propose and was refused, leaving in anger. But we are still villagers together—how could you stoop to such petty tactics?”
Liu Jin and Liu Wu felt their hearts tighten at these words. The onlooking villagers, now witnessing drama, whispered eagerly. Liu Jin’s face darkened: “Master Jiang, don’t drag me into nonsense.”
“Whether I am exaggerating or the Liu family is unreasonable, I demand an explanation today!” Jiang Zichun said firmly.
Liu Jin, guilty in conscience, wanted to call for reinforcements, but at that moment, someone shouted, “The village head is coming!”
“What’s all this commotion? Such shouting among villagers—is this appropriate?”
An elderly man, hands clasped behind his back, walked through the gathered crowd, speaking seriously as he tried to calm the situation.
Jiang Zichun panted in anger while Bai Lan smoothed his father’s back, speaking to the arriving elder: “Village head, the Liu family deliberately ruined our herb crops. You must stand up for us.”
“My father’s medical skills may not match the renowned doctors of the capital, yet they’re hardly lacking. He could have worked in a city clinic, but he stayed here all these years for the sake of the villagers of Lukou. The Liu family’s actions now are truly disheartening.”
The village head smiled gently. “I understand your grief, Bai Lan. Master Jiang has done so much for our village over the years; everyone appreciates it. On my way here, I also heard Lady Qin’s account of what happened.”
Bai Lan cast a grateful glance at Lady Qin, who had come to help summon the village head. Yet, to his surprise, the usually fair village head continued:
“The Liu family has been a major household in Lukou for generations, with a reputation everyone can see. I don’t think they would deliberately harm their fellow villagers. Surely there’s been some misunderstanding here.”
He looked between the Liu and Jiang families. “It seems both families, who were once on good terms, have ended up red-faced and shouting at each other. If word gets out, it would only bring ridicule.”
“Village head!”
Bai Lan exclaimed in disbelief.
“Don’t worry, Bai Lan,” the village head said with a smile. “I will investigate thoroughly. Once the miscreant is caught, he will make full restitution. For now, it’s early, so everyone head back, and tell Master Jiang not to be too disheartened.”
Bai Lan saw how the Liu family smirked and refused to leave. He twisted, wanting the village head to deliver justice.
“Even so, it will take time to investigate. Bai Lan, don’t rush.”
“Village head, it’s clear the Liu family did this. If you…”
Before he could finish, villagers quickly stepped in, pulling Bai Lan and Jiang Zichun back, urging them to leave. They feared Bai Lan might offend the village head; angering both powerful families in the village could bring serious trouble.
Bai Lan struggled, flushed with anger, as they led him away.
Sighing, Lady Qin said, “The Liu family has been the village’s landowners for two generations. Everyone depends on them to some degree. Who dares openly cross them? Bai Lan, don’t blame others for not speaking up—they rely on the Liu family’s presence for their livelihoods.”
Bai Lan opened his mouth, but Jiang Zichun patted his hand, and he calmed himself, returning to his usual composure. “Lady Qin is right. The Liu family has considerable holdings in the village. Many villagers earn extra by working for them; it’s not their fault, nor the village head’s. We acted in haste today.”
He sighed and forced a smile. “It’s fine. I’ll go check the fields again; there’s still some herbs to salvage. Not everything’s ruined.”
The villagers watched Jiang Zichun’s thin, stooped figure trudging to the fields. Many had received treatment from him over the years and could not bear to see him suffer. They stepped forward to help.
Bai Lan gritted his teeth, his emotions a complex mix of anger, sorrow, and helplessness.