This was the first time the blind Wu Zhu had smiled. Or rather, this was the first time the 16-year-old Fan Xian had seen his Uncle Wu Zhu smile. It was the moment he mentioned his mother.
The blind Wu Zhu did not appear old when he was exposed under the black cloth, but he was always cold. He rarely showed any emotion, and it was even harder to see expressions like fear, sadness, or sorrow.
He did not smile either.
So when he thought of the past when he and the Lady first arrived in Qing Kingdom, the corners of his lips curled up. It seemed a bit strange and awkward. But even so, it seemed that the person who never smiled occasionally showed gentleness. It was like a beautiful snow lotus suddenly blossoming in a thousand-year ice on a cliff.
It was incomparably gentle and beautiful.
…
…
With great difficulty, Fan Xian woke up from his daze. Wu Zhu had already returned to normal. He replied lightly, "Not many people know that the Lady was called Ye Qingmei. The people around her just call her the Lady. But the name Ye Qingmei, even now, I think … is very famous in Jingdou."
"Is that so?" Fan Xian opened his eyes wide. He felt that Wu Zhu's words were somewhat contradictory. If not many people knew that his mother was called Ye Qingmei, then why was the name Ye Qingmei so famous? The reason he thought this was because he did not know of the glittering words and the signature on the stone tablet outside the Overwatch Council's door.
"Tell me about my father." Fan Xian's eyes flashed. No one knew what he was thinking.
"I only agreed to talk about the Lady."
"Hmm, you are very crafty, Wu Zhu."
"Before you were born, I had a serious illness and forgot many things."
Fan Xian covered his mouth and laughed. "Uncle is even more shameless than me … hmm, never mind, let's talk about something else … I … what did my mother look like?"
Wu Zhu thought for a moment. "Very beautiful," he said.
Although his voice did not contain too many complicated emotions, Fan Xian felt that when Wu Zhu said those three words, he seemed very sincere. He smiled slightly and rubbed his hands together. "So she was a very beautiful girl."
…
…
Although Wu Zhu's storytelling ability was very poor, Fan Xian could feel from between the simple lines how colorful the story of that woman in Jingdou must have been. He had a strong urge to go to the capital. He had to go to the capital.
Wu Zhu gestured for Fan Xian to stand up and follow him.
Fan Xian stood up curiously and walked to the back of the room. He watched as Wu Zhu gently pressed a few times on the stone wall. The wall suddenly made a soft sound, and then split in the middle, revealing a secret room inside.
Surprised, Fan Xian followed Wu Zhu inside. There was nothing in the secret room. A thin layer of dust covered the floor and a box was placed in the corner.
Because there was nothing else in the secret room other than the box, it was very conspicuous. It was a black leather suitcase, about the length of an adult's arm. It wasn't very wide, so it looked slender.
"No one knows. Before Mistress and I went to the capital, we stayed in Danzhou for a while. This chest was left behind by Mistress. I have kept it safe for you until now. In the future, you will keep it safe."
Fan Xian's heart skipped a beat. He walked forward and brushed away the dust on the black suitcase. Looking at the opening, he saw that there was a brass lid that covered the opening.
He was curious about what his mother had left for him. Unexpectedly, after a long time, he found that the lid wouldn't budge. There was no way to open the box.
"There's no key," Wu Zhu reminded him, seeing how busy he was.
Fan Xian hung his head dejectedly. "Why didn't you say so earlier? Then what's the point of giving me a chest that I can't open?"
"Before I brought you to Danzhou, I needed to convince some people that you were dead, so I left the key there."
Fan Xian thought that this was a bit too old-fashioned. He raised his eyebrows and took out the slender dagger that never left his side from the scabbard on his calf. He aimed it at the top of the suitcase, trying to see where it would be easier to open.
"There's no need to try. This chest is much sturdier than you think."
Fan Xian could tell that Wu Zhu was against him opening it by force. He smiled and stopped moving. He put away the dagger and patted the suitcase. He shook his head and sighed. "Maybe there's a few hundred thousand taels of silver in there. What a pity."
He then lifted the suitcase to test its weight. It was quite heavy, and his curiosity grew.
"Where's the key?"
"The capital."
It was another very broad answer.
Wu Zhu turned around and prepared to leave the secret room. Seeing that Wu Zhu wasn't paying attention to him, Fan Xian rolled his eyes. He bent his right elbow and fiercely struck the top of the suitcase with his palm. This strike contained all of his strength. It was overbearing, and it broke through the air.
A muffled bang reverberated through the secret room. It kicked up a cloud of dust and obscured most of the light from the oil lamp.
Wu Zhu's figure turned around coldly and looked at Fan Xian.
Fan Xian was staring at his own palm, dumbfounded. There was no trace of the black suitcase other than some dust.
It seemed that if he wanted to open this mysterious suitcase, he would have to go to the capital.
Fan Xian thought to himself, planning when he would be able to leave Danzhou. His father in the capital wouldn't always let him "retire" by the seaside.
He didn't know that the people Count Sinan had sent to pick him up were already on their way.
— — —
In the spring of the fourth year of the Qing calendar, Teng Zijing sat in the only tavern in Danzhou Harbor, wiping the sweat from his forehead and looking at one of the walls.
A piece of paper was mounted on the wall with high-quality materials. The quality of the paper was pretty good, and it was densely packed with small characters. The handwriting was obviously the handwriting of the great calligrapher of the Document Pavilion, Pan Ling. The handwriting was elegant and spirited, upright and pure.
In the capital, a piece of work of this size by Sir Pan Ling would fetch at least 300 taels of silver. Danzhou Harbor was remote, so it was not surprising that it had been mounted on the wall like a god.
But the content written on it was not suitable to be used to decorate a house.
Because it was filled with messy news. Yes, this was the legendary newspaper. There were only two copies of this newspaper in all of Danzhou Harbor. The one belonging to the magistrate was naturally kept in the government office, while the one the tavern owner had obtained had been secretly purchased from a servant at the Count's estate at a high price.
Ordinary people would not be able to see this novelty, so they found it particularly magical. Since it was written by Sir Pan Ling, the tavern owner had hung it on the wall after purchasing it, treating it as the treasure of his tavern.
What he didn't know was that this newspaper had been stolen and sold by Young Master Fan of the estate. Young Master Fan had already sold more than 20 copies to wealthy merchants in the city, making a good profit.
And Teng Zijing was about to meet Young Master Fan.
…
…
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