Chapter 225: Nouveau Riche

Chapter 225: The Big Spender

Cheng Ge, carried on Ling Feng's back, was thrown off again by the random question. The cold wind made his nose ache, and he sniffed without thinking.

Write to Cui Ji? At a time like this, what the hell was this guy thinking?

He was about to say "We'll talk later," when it hit him that Cui Ji often sent food to the capital. If he wasn't there, it would go bad.

What a waste...

"Mm... got it. I'll write when we get back..." Before he could finish, another figure shot in like a ghost from the other side.

Wufeng had somehow caught up, running shoulder to shoulder with Ling Feng.

Expressionless, he reported to Cheng Ge dead serious.

"Master, I believe this ambush is no small matter.

You should submit a detailed report to His Majesty, down to the last detail, to prevent any troublemakers at court from using this to stir up trouble."

Cheng Ge: "??? Seriously?" He was completely baffled, his head forced onto Ling Feng's shoulder.

His eyes darted between Ling Feng on the left, all serious, pushing him to write to his brother, and Wufeng on the right, sternly insisting he write a work report to the emperor.

At that, Ling Feng snorted, picked up speed to shake Wufeng, and retorted without missing a beat.

"Such a little thing needs a memorial? His Majesty is swamped with state affairs—you think he's got time for that?

The young master just escaped danger; he needs peace and quiet! Why the hell should he write a freaking memorial!"

Wufeng, unyielding, focused his energy to keep pace steadily and said stiffly.

"Guard Ling, watch your mouth! The duty of a subject to report the emperor's grace is the very essence of a subject's role—how can it be trivial?

The master has received the emperor's favor; failing to report an ambush and a lost connection is unacceptable. It's procedure, it's the rule!"

Ling Feng shot back, his cocky look a dead ringer for Cui Ji's.

"Rules! Rules! That's all you care about! Can't you see the young master's freezing his ass off?"

"Precisely because the master is severely injured, we must reach a safe place as soon as possible. But the memorial cannot be delayed either—how can we put it off?"

As they sprinted, feet flying, they argued nonstop, their debate rapidly escalating from "who should be written to first" to "which is more important: loyalty to the emperor or concern for one's superior." The quarrel was relentless.

Cheng Ge, sandwiched between them, listened to the buzzing debate in his ears, watched the dark, receding tree shadows, and felt his chest tighten even more. His head pounded with sharp pain.

He closed his eyes wearily, then opened them again. With irritation, he gave them both a piece of his mind.

"Fine! I'll write to everyone! Once we get to a place, I'll write to Cui Ji and ask if his horse is available to stud.

And I'll write to His Majesty to ask why the moon is so round tonight! Satisfied?!"

Ling Feng: "..."

Wufeng: "..."

Ling Feng and Wufeng immediately fell silent. Their pace didn't slow an inch, but they both clamped their mouths shut, shooting each other dirty looks.

————

"Young master, take a sip." Lü Rou said softly, holding out a bowl of pear soup.

Inside the carriage, the charcoal brazier gave off a faint warmth, but it couldn't dispel the sickly pale and chill on Cheng Ge's face.

He pulled his crimson cloak tighter around him—the bright color only made his face look even paler.

He coughed twice more, then, with Lü Rou's help, slowly swallowed half a bowl of warm white fungus and pear soup. The dry, scratchy throat finally eased a little.

Just then, the carriage curtain was gently lifted, and Ling Feng poked his head in, bringing in a wave of cold air.

He made a fist-in-palm salute and lowered his voice. "Young master, I've found out."

Cheng Ge lifted his eyes slightly, licked the corner of his mouth, and gestured for Ling Feng to continue, saying softly to Lü Rou, "I'll have another bowl."

Ling Feng nodded and went on. "When I got there, the station was totally burned down.

I tracked and searched, and about ten li down the main road, I found the bodies of the station master and several other station staff."

Ling Feng's voice was steady, but had a cold, deadly edge. "All killed by blades—one hit, dead instantly. There were signs of... hasty burial at the scene, but animals had dug them up some."

Cheng Ge showed no surprise at this news. He buried his face in the bowl.

A brief silence fell inside the carriage, broken only by the occasional faint crackle of charcoal in the brazier.

Lü Rou's face went white with fright. Funiang also stopped her needlework and gave Cheng Ge a worried look.

Those poisoned silver needles... he had already asked Jiyue to examine them in secret.

It wasn't a fast-acting, deadly poison; it was a slow-acting toxin that would lie dormant in the body.

Its symptoms were almost identical to severe typhoid fever. Any normal doctor wouldn't notice anything off—they would treat it as wind-cold entering the body, and no medicine would work.

The mastermind's original plan was to make him fall "naturally" ill, to have him "die of illness" without a sound.

But their calculations missed one thing: Cheng Ge and his people had detected the poison ahead of time.

That forced the enemy to go all in, burning down the station to try to kill them all.

Now, the station master and staff had been silenced. These people must have been in the know, perhaps even the executors.

To sever any possible trail of investigation, the puppet master mercilessly got rid of these pawns.

Kill, burn, cover their tracks... This was a truly ruthless and merciless method, leaving no trace at all.

"Understood." Cheng Ge spoke slowly, his voice hoarse from coughing. "Keep it quiet."

"Understood." Ling Feng nodded firmly, his expression grave as he let the curtain fall.

A list of people he had offended flashed through his mind—and he realized there were quite a few. His brain was about to overflow.

But he could roughly narrow it down to a few directions: either old enemies in the capital, or agents sent from Yuan Prefecture.

No matter which side it was, their current situation wasn't looking good.

The enemy was coming fiercely, hiding in the dark, with such brutal methods. They had to be on guard.

It seemed they needed to come up with a plan...

Meanwhile, on the official road leading to Yuanzhou, a convoy of gleaming gold carriages appeared out of nowhere.

The extravagance was like a moving jewelry box, chugging and clattering its way into Yincheng.

As dusk fell, the gaudiest carriage creaked to a halt in front of the Yuelai Tavern.

The carriage curtain lifted, and a hand covered with jade rings reached out, waving impatiently.

"Fenger~! Where’d you disappear to? Hurry up and help your master out of here! This wretched road has rattled my golden waist loose!" His voice was greasy enough to fry a whole meal.

Before the words even faded, Ling Feng appeared, squeezed into a peach-pink dress that his muscles seemed about to burst through.

With a few large peonies crookedly stuck in his hair, he swung his sturdy hips and put on a falsetto: "Coming, coming, master~ Take it slow~"

He extended a hand that could knock out an ox, carefully helped Cheng Ge alight.

On the other side, Jiyue and Wufeng also got out of the carriage—

Jiyue wore bright green, his face even greener than his clothes, his eyes hollow as if he had transcended worldly concerns.

Wufeng wore a flashy purple dress, his face stiff as if starched, walking stiffly like a zombie under a paralysis curse.

And helped down by these three "dotting concubines" was none other than Cheng Ge, the local rich bumpkin.

At this moment, he had a huge potbelly, wearing a garish robe fit for a parvenu.

A gold chain thick enough to walk a dog around his neck, and all ten fingers were full of rings, blindingly bright.

A ridiculous pair of rat whiskers glued to his face, making him look like a walking money bag.

"Oh dear… we’ve finally arrived…" Cheng Ge complained, casually dropping his meaty paw onto Ling Feng’s waist.

"This backwater is nothing like the capital! My precious ones, help your master get inside and rest."

This group instantly became the focus of the entire street.

Passerby A: "Whoa! That guy… his wives… are something else, huh?"

Passerby B: "Tsk tsk, that concubine in red… could knock an ox dead with one punch, right?"

Passerby C: "The tastes of the rich… we just don’t get it…"

Ling Feng’s forehead veins bulged as he forced a smile through clenched teeth, his face red as a tomato.

Cheng Ge quietly pinched him: "Steady, you’re Fenger now."

Wufeng stared blankly ahead, acting like a soulless walking stick, but the murderous vibes he gave off nearly made the waiter drop his rag.

Jiyue reached out and handed a hand warmer to Cheng Ge, his voice wooden, "Master, warm your hands."

Cheng Ge took the hand warmer, but instantly went full drama queen, reaching up to pinch Jiyue’s cheek.

"Ah, Yue’er is so thoughtful~ Master will give you some silk for a new dress!"

Jiyue: "…"

Under the gobsmacked stares of the whole street, this eye-searing "wealthy merchant and his hunk wives" group finally swayed and stumbled into the tavern.

The innkeeper of the Yuelai Tavern was a seasoned man, but when he looked up and saw the spectacle at the door, he nearly dropped his abacus in shock.

The innkeeper immediately put on the warmest smile and scurried over: "Aiya, esteemed guests, come on in, please!"

Cheng Ge snorted, casually waving his ring-covered hand, putting on an air of grandeur.

"Hmph, you’ve got a sharp eye. Bring me your finest wine and dishes! Money’s no problem!"

"Right away! This way, please!" The innkeeper bowed to lead the way, but couldn’t stop sneaking looks at the three "wives."

The group filed in and sat down in a grand manner. Cheng Ge plopped down in the main seat, the chair groaning in protest.

Without missing a beat, he rattled off a parade of meat dishes, like braised pork elbow, steamed sea bass, roast whole lamb… practically reciting the whole tavern menu.

Soon, the dishes were served, and Cheng Ge instantly started eating like a tornado, grease smeared all over his face.

Lü Rou, disguised as a page, quietly set out dishes with light, graceful movements.

Between bites of pork knuckle, Cheng Ge shot a glance at Wufeng, who was standing stiffly beside him.

Wufeng took a deep breath, as if facing execution, and picked up a cup of lukewarm rice wine, walking over to Cheng Ge.

He cleared his throat, trying desperately to sound soft and sweet.

But the result came out like someone was strangling him—shrill, husky, and trembling: "M-master... have a drink..."

Cheng Ge turned his head and took a sip from the cup held in that muscular, vein-corded hand.

Then he narrowed his eyes and gave a satisfied sigh: "Mmm~ Ah, my little Fengfeng knows how to please his master~"

Wufeng: "…"

Just then, snatches of conversation from the next table drifted over.

"…Axe Ridge… pulled off a big one again… a merchant caravan from the west… over a hundred people… no one left alive…"

Cheng Ge chewed the greasy pork elbow meat, perking up his ears.

"Hiss… didn’t the officials do anything?"

"Officials? The prefect of Yingzhou was transferred last year, launched a few campaigns—all for nothing! They couldn’t even find where the bandits’ nest was. Instead, the mountain bandits led them around like dogs, losing many men… Now they must be at their wit’s end…"

"So what can we do? Don’t any merchants dare use this route anymore?"

"They detour! Everyone goes north on Fengcheng’s main road!"

"Fengcheng? That’s a long way around! And tolls will be higher, right?"

"Of course! But it’s better than getting killed at Axe Ridge!"

Cheng Ge listened with great interest, forgetting to chew the meat in his mouth, his fingers drumming a soft "tap, tap" on the table.

Seeing this, Lü Rou added a piece of fish to his bowl and whispered, "Master, your food's getting cold."

After finishing the fish, Cheng Ge suddenly cleared his throat, puffed out his big belly, and turned to the next table.

Putting on a "I’ve traveled all over and seen it all" nouveau riche air, he spoke in a rough voice to strike up a conversation.

"Hey! You guys, what did you just say about Axe Ridge... is it really that bad?

I happen to have a shipment heading west, and hearing this makes my heart pound!"

The merchant at the next table, seeing his nouveau riche appearance, was momentarily stunned, then gave an understanding look, as if to say, "No wonder you bring that kind of family along."

One of them sighed and lowered his voice, saying, "Sir, if your goods are valuable, you should go around through Fengcheng.

Although it costs more money, it's safe! That Axe Ridge... tsk, is truly deadly! I hear those killers are vicious!"

"That's right!" another chimed in. "The authorities can't do anything about it! I hear the leader of the bandits is called 'Open Mountain Axe'—incredibly strong, kills without a second thought! They specifically target wealthy victims!"

Cheng Ge's eyes lit up as he listened, but he put on an exaggerated fearful expression, slapping his potbelly.

"Oh my! Scared the life out of me! Thank you, brothers, for the warning! Looks like we can't go to Yingcheng! First thing tomorrow, we'll detour! Detour!"

Despite his words of fear, his foot gently nudged Wufeng's calf under the table.

Wufeng stiffened all over, his powdered, expressionless face recalling the duties of a "concubine."

Stiffly, he poured another cup of wine for Cheng Ge and brought it to his lips, his voice even more strained than before: "Sir... steady... your nerves..."

Cheng Ge took a sip from his hand, squinting, putting on the act of a terrified yet pleasure-seeking local tycoon, while his mind rapidly calculated.

Axe Ridge... Open Mountain Axe... the prefect's failure to suppress the bandits... the trade route detouring through Fengcheng...

The situation in Yuanzhou seemed more complicated than he'd thought; this band of mountain bandits was probably not that simple.

He smacked his lips, took another big bite of the pork knuckle, and hummed with a greasy face.

"My dears, did you all hear that? This place is not safe to stay long! Tomorrow morning, we'll also detour through Fengcheng!"

The three "beautiful wives" hurriedly replied, expressionless: "Yes, Sir."

Everyone returned to the inn's main room, closed the door tightly, and Jiyue silently checked that the doors and windows were secure.

Ling Feng was the first to speak, his voice extremely low: "Young master, are we truly going to detour through Fengcheng tomorrow?"

Cheng Ge plopped down on a stool, which groaned again.

He first tugged irritably at the constricting fake belly, then picked up a pastry from the table and took two bites.

Then he spoke slowly, his voice clear and calm: "Of course not."

Everyone's face tensed up, all eyes fixed on him.

Wufeng stepped forward, his purple skirt swaying stiffly with the movement, and asked in a deep voice: "Then what do you plan, master?"

Cheng Ge picked up the teacup, blew on the steam, took a sip, and then propped his chin on his hand.

His gaze swept over them, and he said nonchalantly: "To Yingcheng."

Yingcheng?! Everyone's heart skipped a beat, and they exchanged glances.