Chapter 51: Leaving Zhao Village

Chapter 51: Leaving Zhaojia Village

Zhao An didn't allow the villagers to witness the bloody scene upstairs, but he didn't keep the incident a secret from them either. Both he and Hu Sheng had independently concluded that the assassins were sent by the emperor.

Uncertain if the emperor had other contingencies beyond these killers, and knowing he couldn't openly defy the imperial power within this country, Zhao An decided to depart with Hu Sheng. Before leaving, he felt it imperative to inform everyone.

“I once discovered ways to make money but kept them from the emperor. Later, promoting improved crop varieties across several southwestern provinces offended the local gentry,” Zhao An explained, pointing to the assassin with a broken neck. “These are the people sent to kill me. There are over a dozen more corpses upstairs. I was fortunate to survive this assassination attempt, but next time, it might be a military siege. So, I’ve decided to leave with Hu Sheng’s caravan.”

Upon hearing this, Zhao Zhushan immediately grew agitated and tried to speak, but Zhao An raised a hand to silence him. “After I leave, I won't take the kiln craftsmen with me. You can offer the cement formula to the authorities. Besides, the law doesn't punish the masses. Our village has nearly five hundred people—they won't do anything to you.”

Everyone who had gathered fell silent. Only then did they truly grasp that Zhao An was defying imperial authority. Not only had he refused to die when the emperor demanded it, but he had also killed those sent to take his life, making his 'crimes' even more severe.

However, the people of Zhaojia Village were no longer the simple, honest farmers they had been three years prior. They had enjoyed three years of prosperity, and under Zhao An’s persistent encouragement, almost everyone had become literate. They even wrote articles for a self-printed monthly magazine.

They expressed their views on everything from family conflicts and farming techniques to clever tips for raising chickens. This gradually awakened their intellect, teaching them many things, including the belief that what they worked hard for should rightfully belong to them. Even if taxes were due, their possessions should not be arbitrarily seized.

At this moment, a silent cry of injustice echoed in everyone's hearts.

While some felt the emperor might not be entirely at fault, perhaps Zhao An’s achievements hadn't reached his ears, they strongly supported Zhao An’s decision to leave. Even when wronged, one shouldn't simply stand by and suffer. The protagonist of *Golden Light Blade Manual*, the popular martial arts novel from their monthly magazine, had also been wronged by his sect. He first escaped, found the manual in a cave, mastered its techniques, and then returned to clear his name with the elders.

Thinking of this, many began to lament: if Zhao An left, would *Golden Light Blade Manual* stop being published?

Unbeknownst to them, many people in Zhaojia Village, and indeed throughout Changxi County, had been profoundly influenced by Zhao An’s cultural impact. They yearned for fairer treatment, not wanting to suffer injustices like the protagonist of *Golden Light Blade Manual*. They desired purer love, ideally mutual affection, which was also the protagonist’s view on love.

Seeing that everyone had accepted the situation, Zhao An said, “Everyone, please leave. Pretend you noticed nothing, stay away from my house, this building, and don’t pay attention to when I depart.”

Most left in tears, leaving only Zhao Zhushan, Liu Huan, and Scholar Zhao. Zhao Zhushan pleaded, “Young master, I must go with you.”

Touched, Zhao An patted the young man’s head but then gave him a playful kick. “What did you say when you begged me to let you marry? You promised to treat Yunniang’s parents as your own. Are you going to abandon them so soon to follow me?”

Before Zhao Zhushan could respond, Zhao An’s expression turned stern. “The elderly can’t handle such upheaval. You should stay here obediently.”

Liu Huan sighed. “Yes, I’m too old to travel far. Take care on your journey, Young Master Zhao.” With reddened eyes, he turned and staggered away.

Scholar Zhao, however, remained standing there, his eyes burning with a look of "anger at his failure to live up to expectations." Zhao An expected to be scolded and was about to send him away when Scholar Zhao finally spoke: “Is the feng shui of our Zhao family’s ancestral graves bad?”

He looked at Zhao An and the house behind him. “Your father passed the imperial examinations at a young age and achieved the third rank—what glory! Though he had already married the daughter of the Imperial Academy Chancellor and moved to the capital, our entire clan rejoiced for him.

He rose steadily, his luck so great that he eventually became a ministry official. But Zhao Tongming’s father amassed wealth everywhere and suppressed our branch of the family. In the end, the minister acted righteously, executing his own brother and ascending to the position of chancellor. But he also cut off the advancement opportunities for our entire Zhao clan. I had already passed the county-level exams back then. Even if I didn’t advance further, studying at the Imperial Academy could have led to an official post. But I, Zhao Wenju, never got that chance.”

This was the first time Zhao An learned of Scholar Zhao’s long-standing grievances with his family. No wonder Scholar Zhao had always been so critical of him.

Scholar Zhao continued, “When your sister became empress, I was thrilled, hoping she might bring blessings to our hometown and benefits to our clan. But three years have passed, and I’ve yet to see any favor from Her Majesty the Empress.”

He gave Zhao An a disdainful look. “I initially looked down on your small-scale ventures, but you ended up making the entire Zhaojia Village prosperous. As the empress’s brother, you merely engaged in business to earn money without exploiting the villagers. Yet you’ve come to this end. It must be that our Zhao family’s feng shui is cursed—it simply won’t let us thrive.”

Seeing Scholar Zhao red-faced and agitated, Zhao An gently consoled him, “We can’t blame it all on the ancestral graves. I bear some responsibility too.”

He had been wishfully thinking that his small actions below would go unnoticed by those above. But his wishful thinking had been completely wrong.

Yet Scholar Zhao shook his head. “Your family owes me. You must admit that.”

Zhao An wanted to retort that it was all one-sided—what if Scholar Zhao simply wasn't scholarly enough to enter the Imperial Academy? But then he remembered Feng Shaoping’s father was only a county scholar. He felt Scholar Zhao had indeed been unlucky and decided not to provoke him further.

Zhao An nodded obediently. “So what do you want? I can’t take the large items in my house. If you want them, send someone to collect them.”

“What a petty thing to think.” Scholar Zhao flushed but finally said, “I want you to take my son with you. He’s your cousin. You can order him around as you like and teach him how to make money. Let him return someday as a great merchant, bringing glory.”

This took Zhao An completely by surprise. He never expected Scholar Zhao would let his son go with him.

Scholar Zhao’s son, Zhao Wencai, courtesy name Jinxue, was twenty-four. Though he hadn’t passed the county exams, he was still a Tongsheng. From his name, it was clear Scholar Zhao hoped he would study and advance academically.

Zhao An was astonished that Scholar Zhao would let his son abandon scholarly pursuits to follow him. He even used the emotional leverage of how Zhao An’s father’s righteous execution of his brother had hindered Scholar Zhao’s career.

Under Zhao An’s puzzled gaze, Scholar Zhao declared with authority, “If those above lack virtue, scholarly pursuits hold no promise.”

Zhao An felt too awkward to respond but finally whispered, “But… have you asked Jinxue’s opinion?”

“Hmph,” Scholar Zhao said. “He’s my son. He’ll do as I say.”

“Fine. If he can get to my house within fifteen minutes, I’ll take him with me.” Zhao An finally agreed.

Zhao Zhushan watched all this, hope rekindled in his eyes. “Young master, please take me instead. I can do accounts without drafts now, and I can wash clothes and cook. I’m much more useful than Zhao Wencai—he always ranked last in guard training.”

Zhao An could only sigh. “Not this time. When the situation stabilizes, I’ll send for you.”

“But…” Zhao Zhushan started to mention Zhao Wencai again, but Zhao An cut him off, not caring that Scholar Zhao was still there. “That’s a strategic investment. You’re already on my side—no need to declare your loyalty.”

Since Zhao An and Hu Sheng’s marriage, when dowry was presented and vows read, Scholar Zhao had known of their relationship. Later, seeing the constant flow of Hu Sheng’s merchant caravans—each time two to three hundred people, but different groups each time, totaling likely thousands—he realized their scale.

With thousands of strong, armed followers and a base abroad, it was enough for many to make heavy investments.

For example, the He family, who once sought marriage with Feng Shaoping, offered silver to Hu Sheng—not for business partnership, but unconditional financial support.

After all, merchants in this era lived precariously. Offending the wrong noble could mean disaster for their families. Having a safe refuge abroad was a rare backup plan.

So Hu Sheng accepted their money, further spreading his influence network across the southwestern provinces.

Thus, it wasn’t without reason that those above saw Hu Sheng and his operations as a threat. Yet within Dawn Country, they had been law-abiding—paying grain taxes and taxes, and maintaining connections at all levels. Except for intercepting Zhao Nanyu that one time, they never crossed lines and had no desire to provoke conflict. They only wanted a peaceful life.

But the world refused them peace. Standing on the hill behind his house, Zhao An watched the cooking smoke rise from Zhaojia Village below and, rather pathetically, shed tears.

Finally, he gritted his teeth. “Let’s go.”

Zhang Wei and his dozen companions had also lived long in Zhaojia Village and felt nostalgic. They were war orphans from the borderlands—parentless, homeless, without trade. In their hearts, too, Zhaojia Village had become home. Leaving suddenly dampened everyone’s spirits.

As Zhang Wei lingered for a last look at Zhaojia Village, he saw ominous dust clouds rising beyond the village—the sign of large-scale troop movement.

He turned back in alarm and said to Hu Sheng, “General, a large army is approaching Zhaojia Village.”