Chapter 398 Guanyin

Chapter 398: Guanyin

"This official heard that Lord Song from the capital is conducting business at the government office, so I came to seek an audience. What's the matter? Am I delaying Lord Cao's official duties?"

Shen Chongshan's tone was slow and heavy, carrying a leisurely scrutiny, as if every syllable had to be carefully polished on the tip of his tongue before being released. He bit down hard on the words "official duties" at the end, clearly having discovered something.

Pfft! Everyone in officialdom knew that Shen and Song Tingzhou had fallen out. Song Tingzhou had been here for days while Shen had been holed up at home playing possum, yet now he came running to Cao's turf looking for him—surely with no good intentions.

As fellow officials in Yangzhou, Cao Jinfang had dealt with him more than enough to know he was a shameless, nasty piece of work. Cao was secretly corrupt, propped up and manipulated by the great clans to secure his position as prefect. Shen Chongshan, on the other hand, was openly corrupt, always wrapping his greed in high-sounding righteousness so no one could pin anything on him. And as a protégé of that old man from the Lou family, he was untouchable.

Cao Jinfang gnashed his teeth in frustration, wanting only to send him off. He pasted on a fake smile and said, "I see. Unfortunately, Lord Song and Lord Ge are out on inspection tours in the countryside and haven't been to the office for days. If Lord Shen wishes to find them, perhaps you should look in the fields. I'll have constables escort you there."

Shen Chongshan nonchalantly stepped two more paces in, inching perilously close to the silver chest, making Cao Jinfang's eyelids twitch nervously.

"Oh? So Lord Song isn't here? I was hoping to have a chat with him."

Though Shen Chongshan spoke with apparent regret, Cao Jinfang could tell from his tone that he didn't want to catch up—he wanted to trade blows.

He'd heard that Song Tingzhou's husband was quite famous in the capital—overbearing and ferocious, so much so that even Consort Rong had been reprimanded by the Emperor because of him. Shen Chongshan's second daughter had also been a troublemaker during her time in Yangzhou. The bad blood between the two families ran deep.

Shen Chongshan narrowed his eyes, his gaze settling on Lord Cao's face, a ghost of a smile at the corner of his mouth. "Then I won't disturb Lord Cao further. I'll be on my way."

Cao Jinfang's heart eased, yet he couldn't quite believe the man would simply leave. Wary of some scheme, he hurriedly rose to see him off, wanting to see him leave with his own eyes.

Sure enough, Shen Chongshan had barely taken a step when—despite being a grown man, lean as he was—he swayed like a frail, sickly damsel in distress and stumbled toward the chest.

The maid beside him pretended to steady him, but in truth she made a grab for the chest on the floor. Cao Jinfang's heart nearly leaped into his throat. Fortunately, Chi Yu reacted faster, kicking at the maid's wrist with a burst of force—if she hadn't dodged, her wrist would've been broken. The maid twisted away, and Chi Yu pressed forward, the two erupting into a brawl that sent rickety chairs and cabinets crashing across the inner hall.

Cao Jinfang dropped all pretense of dignity, whirling around to dash to the front hall for help. When he got there, he found the dozen-odd constables already bound and gagged—by the salt guards of the Lianghuai Salt Transport Commission, of all people.

On his own turf, Cao Jinfang hadn't been so humiliated in years. Before he could blow his top, Shen Chongshan in the back hall pulled another stunt.

"Well, well, what a pile of gold and silver!"

A chill shot straight up Cao Jinfang's spine. He spun around to find Shen Chongshan standing by the silver chest, peeking inside with mock surprise.

His maid, having been locked in combat with Chi Yu, stepped back to the side when she saw the chest opened, and Chi Yu likewise retreated to stand beside Meng Wan.

Meng Wan, true to his troublemaking nature, stood in the corner looking utterly unbothered at being caught, his peach-blossom eyes darting between Shen Chongshan and the silver chest. "Lord Cao, the silver has been delivered. Don't forget what you owe me."

With that cryptic remark, he turned and walked away, leaving Cao Jinfang holding the bag. With a martial arts master like Chi Yu at his side, Cao Jinfang couldn't have stopped him even if he'd tried.

"Lord Cao, mind explaining?"

Shen Chongshan smiled with polished courtesy, but his hand remained gripping the chest, and he squatted on the floor without an ounce of dignity.

Cao Jinfang's flabby cheeks twitched as he opened his mouth to speak, but Shen Chongshan cut him off before he could. "Why the hurry to defend yourself, Lord Cao? This chest of gleaming silver didn't just rain down from heaven, did it? And don't give me some ridiculous excuse—you know I wouldn't believe it. I heard this morning there was quite the commotion at the docks over a death. Lord Cao is getting ever more creative in his pursuit of wealth."

At his cutting sarcasm, Cao Jinfang was past the point of defending himself. They both knew exactly what the other was made of. He cut to the chase, "How much?"

Shen Chongshan smiled as he held up a clenched fist in front of Cao Jinfang. "All of it."

Cao Jinfang exploded in fury. "You're dreaming!"

Shen Chongshan didn't get angry, but his smile faded. "I hear Lord Song has been entrusted with an important mission this time, given special authority by the Emperor. His secret memorials go directly to the Emperor, and since the courier station belongs to his husband, delivery would be fast—ten days... or perhaps eight?"

As Cao Jinfang watched, his dread growing, Shen Chongshan opened a smaller chest, revealing gleaming gold ingots—plump, pretty, and worth a fortune, a sight to warm any heart.

Cao Jinfang's eyes were glued to the gold. "Half."

Shen Chongshan picked up an ingot and played with it. "All of it. And besides that, I want that white jade Guanyin carved from Khotan mountain water jade."

Shen Chongshan got plenty of kickbacks from salt merchants all year round, but his family's coffers were thin, and he loved hoarding fine things. He'd coveted Cao Jinfang's family heirloom for ages, repeatedly offered to buy it, but Cao always refused.

Cao Jinfang had worked the officialdom for over a decade and had seen plenty of greedy men, but he'd truly never encountered anyone as shameless and money-grubbing as Shen Chongshan.

He ground out through clenched teeth, "Take the gold and silver, I don't want it anymore. But the jade Guanyin—don't even think about it!" That was his bottom line, and his heart was bleeding as he said it.

"Lord Cao, did you get something wrong?" Shen Chongshan slowly got up from the ground, almost toppling over from the sudden motion, saved only by his maid's fast reflexes.

The maid: "..."

Her master was frail but loved showing off.

"If Song Tingzhou finds out you set up his husband, forget the white jade Guanyin—you'll be lucky to keep your head." Shen Chongshan, dizzy and glassy-eyed, still had the energy to threaten Cao Jinfang.

"Qiong Hua, do you have the letter that Qian Wanguan handed over? Lord Cao's secretary has fine handwriting—truly worthy of a jinshi scholar. It's a waste for him to be just a secretary. Why not recommend him to Lord Song? He's been tasked with implementing new policies and could use more capable hands."

Cao Jinfang felt his blood run cold, his breath caught in his throat. He stared at Shen Chongshan, shocked and furious. "Qian Wanguan is one of yours!"

—

When Song Tingzhou came back from the countryside, Meng Wan was sprawled out in a bamboo rocking chair, eyes closed, resting. Playing the part of an arrogant, domineering scumbag was exhausting.

Eyes still closed, he idly fiddled with the pouch at his waist—one red, one blue, matching each other. His whole demeanor was low-key, and under the overcast sky, the world seemed drained of color, except for Meng Wan's hands and face, which glowed pale white. His dark hair hung loose, giving him a fragile, sorrowful beauty.

"What's the matter?" Song Tingzhou didn't take the time to change clothes, kneeling beside Meng Wan, his robe hem and boots covered in mud.

Meng Wan opened his eyes lazily, his voice a little hoarse. "Nothing, just a little tired. Go wash up—there's food waiting in the kitchen."

The clouds hung low, and thunder rumbled, threatening rain. The courtyard was no place to stay.

Song Tingzhou rose, glanced at the sky, then bent down and scooped Meng Wan into his arms, carefully laying him on the soft couch in the outer room of the bedroom. He reached out and felt his forehead—cool to the touch—and asked with concern, "Do you feel unwell?"

Meng Wan yawned, a tired tear squeezing from the corner of his eye, his tone flat. "I'm fine. Go wash up—I'm hungry. I want shrimp congee and three-delight buns."

He hadn't had any appetite this afternoon. Fang Jinrong, knowing Meng Wan was busy, had gone to the countryside with Ge Quan and the rest. Meng Wan had slept too much indoors, leaving him listless, and sitting outside in the breeze hadn't worked up an appetite. He'd gone all day without eating.

Song Tingzhou hurried to the kitchen himself to get the food, waiting until Meng Wan was eating his hot porridge before he went to wash up.

Having slept too much during the day, Meng Wan was wide awake come night. His own man was lying right there beside him—no crime in stripping him. With a clear conscience, Meng Wan dove under the covers, but ran out of steam halfway through, and the fully awake Song Tingzhou took over from there.

Exercise was good for both body and mind. Meng Wan closed his eyes, waiting for his pounding heart to slow. When he opened them, he met Song Tingzhou's chiseled jaw and impossibly sexy Adam's apple—and then Song Tingzhou kissed him again.

Kisses during sex were always stickier than usual, the damp warmth stirring a fresh wave of lust.

Afterward, Song Tingzhou brushed Meng Wan's sweat-soaked hair from his forehead, his thumb tracing the red corner of Meng Wan's eye, his voice low and husky from their efforts. "Did someone at the government office upset you today?"

Meng Wan caught his breath, letting out a lazy "Huh?" as he curled up against Song Tingzhou like a satisfied cat. "Who could possibly upset me?"

"But you were unhappy today." After all these years together, if Song Tingzhou couldn't tell when Meng Wan was in a bad mood, he didn't deserve to be called a husband.

Meng Wan's hand, resting on Song Tingzhou's firm chest, paused for a moment, and he let out a soft, barely audible sigh. "It's not that I was upset."

He'd almost killed someone today. When the blade cut into flesh, half his arm went numb—he couldn't put the feeling into words, and it wasn't fear.

Meng Wan wasn't afraid to kill, but he was afraid of getting lost in it—money, power, unchecked dominance, life and death at his fingertips. That intoxicating sense of control was dangerously habit-forming, and one misstep could drag him into a quagmire from which there was no return.

"The human heart is a complicated thing. No one can guarantee they'll stick to their original principles for decades on end. I just suddenly felt a little scared." Meng Wan said thoughtfully.

Lord Song wrapped Meng Wan entirely in his protective embrace, his arms encircling him, his chin brushing against Meng Wan's tousled hair. "You've already done remarkably well. In a hundred years, how many could have worked for the welfare of millions of households in Lingnan and improved the lives of the *ge'er*? Wan'er, no one is perfect—don't be too hard on yourself."

Meng Wan buried his face in Song Tingzhou's neck. "When we're old, you can retire early, and we can go back to Sanquan Village—or return to Heshan."

The tenderness in Song Tingzhou's eyes nearly dissolved into a watery warmth. He tightened his arms, pressing Meng Wan firmly against him, and said softly, "Alright, I'll retire early. Wherever you want to go, I'll be with you."

Song Tingzhou had planned to wait for the aristocratic families to grow restless and come to him, but after noticing Meng Wan didn't care for Yangzhou, he set aside his land-surveying work and went to their door himself with Ge Quan.

The Lou family wasn't the wealthiest clan in Yangzhou, nor the most long-established, but over the past century, they had produced two Grand Secretaries, making them the most prestigious family in the city. All the other prominent families deferred to the Lou family.

The Lou family had grown accustomed to being held in high esteem, forgetting that their ancestor had been a failed scholar who never passed the imperial exams. Living in a humble abode, he had written petitions denouncing the country gentry for bullying his widowed mother and orphaned siblings, using his scholar status to exempt their land from taxes, while the gentry then turned around and charged rent to the farmers who worked it.

Now the Lou family owned countless acres of land. Even if they contributed nothing, wealthy merchants would eagerly offer gifts—land, estates, and mansions—to curry favor.

"Lord Song, I'm terribly sorry, but our old master is advanced in years and has long stopped receiving visitors. Even his own disciples, or the court's Ministers and Censors who come in person, are turned away." The Lou family's steward blocked the doorway, speaking courteously with every gesture of deference, yet his words carried a single message: Song Tingzhou wasn't worthy.

Song Tingzhou held the rank of second-grade official, the Emperor's personally appointed Governor-General of Jiangnan—was that not enough in the Lou family's eyes? Perhaps not; more likely, they were using the prestige of their old master's former position as Grand Secretary to flaunt the pride of their centuries-old aristocratic lineage.

When Cao Jinfang had previously hosted him and Ge Quan, and the aristocratic families had failed to appear, Song Tingzhou had already anticipated this situation. His expression remained unchanged as he said calmly, "I had acquired an item earlier and wanted to ask Lord Lou if he recognized it. Since Lord Lou won't see visitors, I won't presume to disturb him further."

Ge Quan spoke up at the right moment. "Lord Song, since we can't deliver this Guanyin statue, shall we have it carried back?"

Song Tingzhou lifted his eyelids and gazed steadily at the Lou family's main gate. Above the vermilion-painted doors hung a black sandalwood plaque, centered beneath the eaves, with four gilt characters—"Kui Tang Shi Xiang"—written in bold, forceful strokes that carried an oppressive weight, heavy as if steeped in the lead of ages, while the gold-leafed edges gleamed with aristocratic refinement.

"I hear the great families of Yangzhou live in close proximity and are extremely united. Let this jade Guanyin rest outside such a scholarly household as the Lou family's, to absorb a bit of their literary aura."

As he spoke, his fingertips slowly traced the token at his waist. The line of his straight nose looked cold and sharp in the sunlight, and his eyes were as deep and still as a frozen pool. Though he wore no official robes, his bearing exuded a steady, imposing authority.

Ge Quan chuckled softly and waved his hand. The cart guarded by the brocade-clad guards at the roadside was pulled forward. The object on it stood about seven feet tall, secured by ropes. Ge Quan reached up and yanked off the red silk covering it, revealing a lifelike white jade Guanyin statue carved from Hetian jade, presented before everyone's eyes.