Chapter 285: Lian Wujing

Chapter 285: Lian Wujing

Seeing that the miners had finally been settled under Shen Chongzhuo's protection, Cheng Ge felt the heavy stone that had been pressing on his heart finally ease slightly.

But their successive actions at the mine and with the Canal Gang must have already alerted those people.

He needed to hurry back to Yuanzhou, or Sister Lvrou and the others would be in danger.

Cheng Ge quickly outlined the follow-up matters and rode back to Yuanzhou City at full speed overnight.

Just as he approached the Censor's residence, he spotted from a distance several suspicious unfamiliar faces lurking around it.

Cheng Ge's eyes narrowed. He dared not enter through the main gate, so he made his way around to the wall of the back alley behind the residence.

Meanwhile, the atmosphere in Lvrou's private rooms had become extremely tense.

Lvrou paced back and forth in the room like a cat on a hot tin roof.

"What do I do... what can we do..." Lvrou murmured, her voice tinged with unmistakable panic.

In the past few days, Zhou Wenyuan, Clerk Zhao, and several of those rural gentry who usually had nothing to do with them had come calling one after another, ostensibly to pay their respects to the Lord Censor, but their manner...

This morning, Zhou Wenyuan had brought several burly attendants, with a tough attitude, hinting that the Lord Censor had been missing for too long.

He even made sarcastic remarks like, "Could it be that he's fallen victim to some villain?" and threatened to force his way into the inner chambers to see for himself.

Fortunately, Ling Feng, along with a few loyal guards, had blocked them at the ornamental gate, refusing to budge an inch.

After a long standoff, Zhou Wenyuan finally left in a huff, flicking his sleeves, but judging by his demeanor, he was not one to let the matter rest.

Once or twice, I could still make an excuse that Cheng Ge was unwell and not available to see guests.

But they came so frequently, and their attitude grew stronger each time—they must have sensed something.

Just as Lvrou was about to have a breakdown from anxiety, the window was tapped lightly three times.

Lvrou startled, alertly looked toward the window, which was gently pushed open a crack.

A familiar figure agilely slipped in—who else could it be but her master?

"Master!" Lvrou's eyes welled up with tears, and she nearly sobbed.

She hurried forward, by the light of the faint moonlight filtering through the window, and examined Cheng Ge closely.

He was covered in dust, his clothes stained with mud, and his face had noticeably thinned.

The line of his jaw was more defined, and in the dim light, his complexion showed undeniable exhaustion.

Seeing Lvrou's worried expression, Cheng Ge tried to force a reassuring smile, but even the effort to lift the corners of his mouth seemed to drain his last strength.

He almost stumbled to the Huanghuali armchair by the window and collapsed into it like a flattened jianbing (Chinese crepe).

"Sister Lvrou," he said weakly, his voice hoarse and dry, "I'm so hungry... I need to eat..."

Seeing him like this, Lvrou's heart ached fiercely, overriding her earlier anxiety.

She quickly replied, "Master, wait a moment. I'll go get you something to eat right away!"

Before long, Lvrou and Funiang returned with two large food boxes.

As soon as they opened them, the aroma filled the room, and the table was laden with a full spread of dishes.

Light returned to Cheng Ge's eyes as he picked up his chopsticks and began to wolf down the food, sweeping his hunger away and becoming himself again.

Lvrou and Funiang stood by, frantically piling food onto his plate, their hands almost a blur.

Watching him eat ravenously, Funiang felt her nose sting again and turned away quietly, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

He devoured everything on the table like a whirlwind, even drinking the chicken soup down to the last drop.

Only then did Cheng Ge let out a long sigh, reluctantly setting down his chopsticks and leaning back in the armchair.

"Master, the hot water is ready. Please go wash up and rest." Lvrou reminded softly.

Cheng Ge nodded, pushed himself up on his weak legs, and went to soak in a hot bath.

After changing into clean undergarments, his head barely touched the pillow before he fell into a deep sleep.

Cheng Ge slept soundly until he was abruptly woken by urgent calls.

"Master? Master! Wake up, quick!"

Cheng Ge's mind felt like it was full of porridge, and his eyelids were as heavy as lead weights.

He struggled to open them a crack, and Lvrou's figure appeared before him in three overlapping images, making him dizzy.

"...Sister Lvrou?" His voice was slurred, hoarse from sleep and thick with drowsiness.

"What's wrong...?"

Lvrou said urgently, "Master, Left Administrative Commissioner Lian Wujing, Lord Lian, is here, waiting at the door."

"Lian Wujing?" Cheng Ge repeated absently, staring blankly at the canopy of his bed, blinking. Several seconds later, his foggy mind was struck by a bolt of lightning, and he jolted awake. "Damn!"

What's this bastard doing here!

The Left Administrative Commissioner was the de facto leader of Chengping Province, much like a modern governor.

If it were someone like Zhou Wenyuan, he could still use his authority as a Lord Censor to turn them away.

But with this man visiting, even if he were genuinely at death's door, he would have to get up and see him.

"Really... what a bastard to show up now..." Cheng Ge groaned, resigning himself as he struggled out of bed.

As soon as his feet touched the ground, his vision went black, and he swayed uncontrollably.

He quickly grabbed the bedpost, shook his fuzzy head, and Lvrou rushed forward to steady him.

"Sister Lvrou, my clothes—bring my official robe." Cheng Ge's voice was still soft from just waking up, clearly exhausted.

Lvrou quickly responded and brought his official robe—it had been worn only once since arriving in Yuanzhou.

Cheng Ge slipped into the robe, adjusted the slightly heavy Black Gauze Hat on his head, and headed toward the front hall.

As soon as he entered the front hall, Cheng Ge's gaze fell on the figure seated in the main seat.

The visitor appeared to be in his forties, with a gaunt face and three long wisps of beard hanging from his chin.

He was not wearing an official robe, only a dark blue straight gown with subtle patterns, looking more like a refined scholar.

He was leisurely holding a teacup, slowly brushing away the tea foam with the lid, as comfortable as if he were at home, completely at ease.

Seeing Cheng Ge enter, Lian Wujing slightly lifted his eyelids and swept his gaze across his face.

He did not stand up, nor did he show any intention of putting down the teacup.

Although the Imperial Inspector’s rank might not be particularly high, he represented the emperor, with special authority and an exalted status, so even a high-ranking official should treat him with respect.

He only nodded slightly, which passed for a greeting, with an attitude that could be described as extremely casual.

"Censor Cheng," Lian Wujing said, his voice calm and unreadable, "I heard that you were unwell, and I was concerned, so I came specially to visit."

His words seemed concerned, but his tone and manner showed no respect for a superior official.

Cheng Ge was already irritable from lack of sleep, and seeing this affected manner, he wore a displeased expression.

He chuckled and sat directly in the chair next to Lian Wujing, his movements still carrying the laziness of just having woken up.

"Thank you for your concern, Lord Lian. It’s rare for you to come visit me," Cheng Ge said, reaching for the empty teacup on the table, lifting the teapot, and pouring himself a cup.

He lifted the cup but didn’t drink immediately. Instead, he turned to Lian Wujing with a faint, mocking smile and lightly shifted the topic:

"However, it might be due to differences in local customs." He paused, slowly blowing on the tea foam.

"In our place, when visiting a sick person, whether a close friend or a regular colleague, one doesn’t just show up empty-handed like that.

At the very least, you’d bring two catties of red dates, a few ounces of bird’s nest, or at worst, two boxes of pastries and fruits—that’s considered a token of goodwill..."

Lian Wujing: "..."