Chapter Fourteen: Old Zhao

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In the Kaiyuan District of Wangjing East City, within a lavish mansion.

Crash!

An expensive purple clay teapot shattered into pieces, sending several beautiful maids into a panic, their faces drained of color.

"Liang Feng has turned into a monster. It took so much effort to get that fool Fan Dai on board, and now his tribunal has been wiped out. Even Wu Zinan is dead... Useless, all of them are useless!"

A corpulent man, clad in a purple robe, was raging furiously in the room.

"Master, should we lay low for a while?" a man with a mustache and a melon-shaped cap asked quietly.

"No, the West is pressing for goods," the master replied.

The adviser produced a teapot from somewhere and poured the man a cup of hot tea. "But... we don't know who the enemy is. We must also be wary of the Eradication Office."

The man in the purple robe snorted coldly. "Ignore the Eradication Office. They're merely the emperor's dogs and won't interfere with our plans. But we must find that troublemaker!"

The maids numbly gathered the fragments from the floor. They had once had families, but one day, they lost everything.

Originally, they too should have been sent 'West', but this man in the purple robe intercepted them. Since then, their lives had become worse than death.

Listening to his furious outbursts, their numb hearts felt a faint trace of joy.

...

In the blink of an eye, another week passed.

During this week, Liang Zhi had idled at home, enjoying his leisure.

But after a week of inactivity, he felt restless, so he went downstairs to buy a slab of crispy pork belly and a pound of bridgehead ribs.

On the way, he noticed a commotion in an alley—there were dragon and lion dances, and even Western musical instruments being played.

He wanted to join the fun, but was blocked by two men in blue vests.

A regular person would see they weren’t allowed in and simply leave.

But Liang Zhi was not that sort of person. He already knew how little he understood about this world, which made him curious about many things.

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Liang Zhi circled the alley, found a wall, and created footholds with his ability, scaling over it to finally see what was happening within.

At the center of the alley, grain was piled up like a small mountain, with a large banner draped above.

The banner announced that the owner of Xiaolanting Tobacco Shop was giving back to society, helping the impoverished residents of Da Dong. Anyone in dire straits could come and receive a bag of rice.

A reporter was clicking away with a camera.

A dozen people, looking like paupers, lined up neatly, gratefully took their grain, and queued up again at the end.

In fact, everyone present except for the reporter were employees of Xiaolanting Tobacco Shop.

The alley was blocked at both ends, so outsiders had no idea what was going on inside. Once the reporter published the story, it would be a perfect marketing opportunity for Xiaolanting.

Liang Zhi clicked his tongue and scaled back over the wall.

He had expected something exciting, but found only this dull spectacle. Still, as he walked, a sense of discomfort gnawed at him.

So, in the busiest part of town, he grabbed a loudspeaker: "Xiaolanting Wine and Tobacco Shop is giving away free grain, right next to Juxian Tower!"

After shouting, Liang Zhi felt a rush of satisfaction, while the crowd stirred restlessly.

Most of the residents near Erxian Bridge were not well-off; many families struggled to get enough to eat. Such a good thing couldn’t be missed, especially for the true beggars among them.

Dozens swarmed toward the alley, and the crowd only grew.

What would happen next, Liang Zhi didn’t know. But having shouted aloud, his mind felt clear.

Returning home, he saw a mailman fussing in front of Old Zhao’s door.

The mailman was a young man with short, slightly yellow hair.

He took a letter from Old Zhao’s mailbox, opened the envelope, replaced the letter inside with a new one, and put the original letter into the old envelope.

This strange action baffled Liang Zhi.

So he knocked on Old Zhao’s door.

If there was anyone Liang Zhi was familiar with in this world, apart from Master Crow, it was Old Zhao. Ever since the two hustled together at their little stall a week ago, they’d grown close.

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This solitary old man had few friends and occasionally came to drink with Liang Zhi. The crispy pork belly and fried ribs Liang Zhi bought were meant to share with him.

He was about to mention the mailman’s odd behavior when he saw Old Zhao retrieve the old envelope from beneath the mailbox, leaving the new one inside.

"What did you want to say?" Old Zhao, holding the letter, beamed at Liang Zhi.

Liang Zhi instantly realized there might be some hidden story here, so he raised his crispy pork belly. "This pairs well with a drink, don’t you think?"

After a few rounds, Old Zhao was intoxicated and began boasting, "My son is a hundred-house officer in the Crossbow Corps. Do you know what the Crossbow Corps is?"

Of course Liang Zhi knew—the Black-armored Crossbow Corps, Red-armored Guard Corps, Blue-armored Air Cavalry, and Silver-armored Ironwall Corps—the four elite armies of Da Dong. For his son to hold an official post among them was no small feat.

"My son is impressive, but I’m no slouch. When I was young, I was a craftsman in Da Dong’s Bureau of Engineering. The rapid-fire short crossbow of the Crossbow Corps? I contributed to that!"

Old Zhao’s face was flushed, two fingers pinching his wine cup, gently swaying it.

Liang Zhi seized his cup. "You’ve had enough."

"I haven’t! You don’t believe me, do you? Come, I’ll show you."

Old Zhao grabbed Liang Zhi’s hand and opened a tightly locked door. Inside was a spacious room filled with all sorts of mechanical parts.

"You’ve probably never seen these before. I’m currently working on a new type of crossbow. If I succeed, my name will be recorded in Da Dong’s history!"

He pressed the blueprints to Liang Zhi’s chest, looking at him expectantly, waiting for praise.

"You really have had too much. You usually wouldn’t let anyone in here," Liang Zhi said helplessly.

"My son isn’t allowed, but you—come in, it’s fine!" Old Zhao waved dismissively, unconcerned.

Bringing Liang Zhi here wasn’t just because he was drunk; he genuinely regarded Liang Zhi as one of his own.

He had lived here for nearly ten years and had few friends.

Though Liang Zhi had only moved in recently, in a matter of days their exchanges had surpassed the companionship his son had offered over a decade.

Perhaps Liang Zhi had ulterior motives in befriending him, but Old Zhao didn’t care.