Chapter 352: Even the smell of copper can be fragrant

A single word awakens the dreamer.

Chen Yan's cloudy eyes suddenly brightened; the gloom on his face completely dissipated, replaced by a look of joy, he repeatedly clapped and praised, his eyes full of appreciation.

"Good! Good, striking the mountain to shock the tiger! Good, seizing the chance to lay out a plan!"

"Liren, indeed you still understand matters thoroughly, winning my favor, a hundred times more reliable than these martial men who only know how to fold their hands and take scolding!"

Chen Yan's plan settled in his heart, the previous pent-up anger completely dissipated.

He turned to the scholar standing at his side and said, entrusting all subsequent matters to him:

"This matter I leave entirely to you to handle. Sending documents to demand accountability, negotiating with Yongzhou, seizing the opportunity to set up a plan—all details, you decide as you see fit, no need to report every step."

Having said that, he raised his hand in a light gesture, his expression weary, indicating that the civil and military officials below should retreat:

"It's late; you two may retreat, and swiftly see this matter through."

The scholar bowed with composure, his bearing refined and proper, his advance and retreat measured.

The Guard Captain of Guangzhou Zhoufu beside him, as if granted a great pardon, finally relaxed his tense spine, hastily lowered his head in response, closely followed, and the two exited the prefect's study together.

Night soaked the official corridors, lights reflecting on the blue stone.

The wind came, the heat dispersed, the hostile aura melted away.

All the way to the outside of the corridor, after distancing himself from the prefect's gaze, the Guard Captain's hanging heart finally settled, and the tight bitterness on his face gradually eased.

He turned his head to look at the warm, refined scholar beside him, feeling deeply grateful, his tone sincere:

"Tonight, many thanks, Master Bai, for resolving the predicament; had it not been for your words of persuasion and your clever strategy, this lowly official would surely have faced grave blame tonight—I will keep this favor in my heart."

In the Captain's eyes, all scholars are the same: lofty bearing, warm and modest, transcendent and unconcerned with worldly gain.

Now, hearing himself say that, it would be fitting to seize the moment to chat with him a bit......

However, just as his words fell, the refined, warm scholar before him suddenly broke his surrounding refined aura.

The scholar glanced sideways, his brows and eyes still calm, the corner of his mouth even bearing a faint smile, showing no trace of profiteering, yet his action was straightforward and blunt.

He slowly extended his hand, palm open, generous and unpretentious, his tone flat and unchanging:

"Verbal promises are empty, useless. Human feelings in the jianghu and face in officialdom ultimately cannot compare to solid, hard cash."

"If you truly wish to thank me, why not just bring silver money?"

That remark fell lightly, yet instantly the Captain froze on the spot.

The Captain's pupils slightly widened, his face full of astonishment, he stared blankly at the elegant scholar before him, his mind went blank for a moment, utterly unable to react.

He had expected the other to politely decline, to accept indifferently, to admonish him to be diligent in his duties later; never did he imagine that this refined-looking scholar would so bluntly reach out to solicit bribes.

The night breeze brushed across the corridor, the atmosphere momentarily becoming somewhat comical and subtle.

After a while, the Captain finally came back from his extreme shock, his heart a mix of feelings.

Although shocked, he dared not offend the prefect's foremost confidant, so he could only give a wry smile, reach to his waist, and untie a bulging silk satchel of silver.

The silver satchel felt substantial in his hand, holding half a month's salary and the assorted silver he had saved over time; after a brief hesitation, he presented it with both hands:

"Sir, you jest; this is merely a modest token to express my gratitude."

The scholar accepted the silver satchel without hesitation, weighed it with one hand, felt its substantial weight through his fingertips, his expression calm, neither pleased nor uneasy, as if accepting money to resolve the matter were just a trivial affair.

He uttered no further word, made no polite refusal, turned and strode away, his sleeves fluttering, his retreating back still refined and pure, as if the one who had just reached out for silver were not him.

His steps were unhurried, and he soon vanished at the end of the night-lit corridor.

Only the Captain remained where he stood, stiff for a long while, watching the direction the other had gone, his face alternating between green and white, finally he could not help but mutter under his breath:

"No wonder everyone outside says the prefect keeps beside him a person named Thus line: Bai Liren, known as 【Bai Wuchang】; seeing him today, the reputation is truly deserved."

"On the surface he is refined and elegant, aloof and proud, but in truth he comes from a ruined household, a petty upstart; seeing money, his eyes light up—as long as the silver is in place, he'll do any favor, agree to any matter... Having witnessed this firsthand, it is truly ill-omened!"

Having muttered the curse, the Captain shook his head with a wry smile, full of helplessness, and could only turn and leave.

Tonight's ordeal—being scolded and losing money—ultimately left him only able to deem himself unlucky.

Those low words were all scattered in the night breeze; the scholar walking ahead neither heard them nor, if he did, paid them any heed.

He had long grown accustomed to others' criticism, and simply walked out on his own through the solemn, imposing gates of the prefecture office.

The night grew darker, the lanterns waned.

The exquisite black-wood sedan chair already waiting outside immediately came forward, the chair-bearer bowing in attendance.

The scholar slightly lowered himself into the sedan, the curtains fell, sealing off the outside night and clamor.

The sedan rose and fell smoothly, threading through the midnight streets of Guangzhou Zhoufu.

Shops along the street closed, passersby vanished; only scattered lights dotted the night, the whole way silent and still.

Not long after, the sedan steadily stopped before the gate of an elegant residence, the gate tower modest and unadorned, lacking extravagant carvings yet tranquil and orderly—a typical literati's dwelling.

The scholar lifted the curtain and stepped down; just as he entered the gate, a close attendant hurried forward, head bowed respectfully, awaiting orders.

He casually tossed the heavy silver satchel he had just received to the attendant, his motion easy and natural, his tone indifferent as he instructed:

"As usual, at dawn tomorrow convert all this silver into new rice, personally escort and send it to the city's Orphanage, not a single grain to pass through another's hands, lest someone intermediate skim and embezzle, spoiling the good deed."

The attendant hurriedly and steadily received the silver satchel, bowing in reply:

"I have noted it down; I will be meticulous in everything, certainly not making a mistake."

The scholar gave a slight nod, then strode toward the inner depths of the residence.

Moonlight spilled over his blue robe, warm and refined, his bearing upright; he remained the picture of the earlier aloof, carefree scholar, composed in all matters.

However, after just a few steps, his footsteps abruptly halted.

The night breeze swept past the garden flora, bringing a slight chill; the layer of perpetual aloofness that clung to him all year gradually faded, and finally a faint trace of weariness appeared in his brow.

This weariness, which neither official composure nor scholar's integrity could conceal, was the vicissitudes of time; at last it revealed the fatigue and wistfulness proper to a man in his early forties.

He did not turn back, but with a voice mixed with a barely perceptible hoarse rasp, he asked in a low tone:

"The person I had you secretly inquire about—still not a word of news?"

Upon hearing this, the attendant sighed inwardly, knowing that what his master asked about was a long-buried obsession; he quickly stepped forward half a pace and replied in a low voice:

Replying to the old master, there is still no news. After the Jinling courtesan died, she was merely buried in a straw mat, and the child she bore years ago and sent to the Orphanage—after all these years of searching, there is still no trace, nowhere to find.

The night was utterly quiet, the courtyard silent.

The chief attendant, watching his old master's back, felt unable to bear it and softly offered comfort.

The past is gone; the old master now holds a high position, his future is wide open, he is still young, and he will surely have his own descendants—why cling to a courtesan from years ago and her child?...... Obsession too deep only adds worry.

This advice was sound, but the figure standing ahead remained motionless for a long time.

The scholar did not reply, remained silent, letting the moonlight envelop him.

That night, before he entered the inner court, he only said:

Let's look again.

Back then I had no achievements, low status and little power, so I couldn't fulfill my promise. But now that I hold authority, things should be different.

From now on I'll assign more personnel; if funds are short, I'll just take more...... Right, has Yizhou sent any gifts? If not, in their next life they'd better not think of allying with Guangzhou Zhoufu.

Congratulations to our Dayin Dynasty's number one corrupt official, Thus line: Bai Liren, making a solemn appearance......