Chapter 17: Young Master

With Zhang Qitong's arrival, it was time for Zhang Yan to roll back to the mainland to assume his new post.

Yet, he showed not the slightest sign of leaving Giant Serpent Head Island.

Meanwhile, Zhang Qitong, who should have occupied the station in the city even if he didn't move into the Blackwood Town Office, was not stationed in the town either.

Instead, he had built a massive camp outside the town.

This bizarre situation was truly baffling.

Some felt that Zhang Yan, on the verge of leaving, had suddenly become attached to the foundation he had spent half a lifetime cultivating.

They secretly mocked such a formidable figure for being unable to control his sentimental attachment to the past in his old age.

Others felt that Zhang Qitong had a reputation for genius, but perhaps he was only precocious as a child and not necessarily so as an adult.

To think he would actually allow the old man to hog his position without letting go.

But when Zhang Gui learned of these two pieces of news, a chill grew in his heart; the more he pondered, the more panicked he became.

In the blink of an eye, three more days passed.

At dusk.

The subordinates at the market had all finished their shifts.

Zhang Gui, having basked in the sun all day, was in the third hall of the West Market Office's third courtyard, eating honey-soaked pork cracklings bought by Zhang Chun.

A middle-aged man wearing the black robe of a Chief Manager of the Pingyang Zhang Family walked straight through the halls and courtyards to stand before him.

With an expressionless face, he announced:

"Steward Zhang Gui, Lord Qitong summons you to meet at the Hour of the Dog."

The status of this messenger was higher than that of the recipient, so Zhang Gui could only respectfully cup his hands in salute.

But the Chief Manager who delivered the message didn't even acknowledge him; after speaking, he turned and strode away.

Watching the arrogant back of this grandson, Zhang Gui wore a constipated expression.

"Is it time for the masks to come off? The new one wants to take power, but the old one won't roll away.

You, Zhang Qitong, and Zhang Yan are both big shots; if you don't submit to each other, just have a wild collision.

Why drag us underlings, these cattle and horses, into it? You're all bastards!"

However, cursing was one thing; as a high-level wage slave, once it was dark, he still hurried to the new boss's camp.

As the most talented scion of the clan, Zhang Qitong's temporary residence was frighteningly large, yet its layout was the most common "wagon formation."

The perimeter was encircled by hundreds of giant cargo wagons, leaving only one gateway wide enough for a four-horse carriage to pass through.

Inside the wagon wall.

Countless tents stood side by side, forming streets, and one by one, the crisscrossing streets formed a temporary city that entered Zhang Gui's field of vision.

It was so magnificent that he was dumbstruck.

By the roadside.

Dazzling silk lanterns hung from hundreds of wooden poles, each a zhang high and as thick as two fists, illuminating the camp as brightly as day.

Under a lantern by the gateway, a handsome youth with red lips and white teeth smiled and said to Zhang Gui:

"Steward Gui, please. My Lord is already waiting for you."

"Yes, yes.

Lord Qitong has such an impressive camp." Zhang Gui came back to his senses and exclaimed in admiration.

But this admiration wasn't entirely sincere.

One had to know that Blackwood Town did not produce silk.

To ship a large quantity of silk by sea over three days just to light up the place and intimidate the future cattle and horses under his command—there were only three possibilities:

One, Zhang Qitong was a genius on the surface but an idiot in reality.

Two, Zhang Qitong was truly a genius, but his head had been squeezed by a door, and now he had become an idiot.

Three, things had truly exceeded Zhang Gui's imagination, reaching a level he could not normally comprehend.

After making this judgment, Zhang Gui walked while observing the surroundings, and as a result, he smelled an extremely rich aroma of fine wine wafting through the air.

Beneath his feet, it wasn't packed earth or stone slabs, but finely fired, intricately patterned porcelain tiles.

Revealing a look of astonishment, he probed: "Even the servants doing chores have the scent of wine on them, and you're actually using high-grade porcelain tiles to pave the ground for a field camp.

Owner Qitong's style truly makes us vulgar people marvel."

The beautiful youth looked back and smiled without answering.

In the firelight, the youth's eyes were overflowing with brilliance, and the face was like peach blossoms, making Zhang Gui's heart skip a beat. "Cosplay, dressing as a man? I didn't even notice just now.

Are rich people this good at playing?"

The two walked to the largest tent in the center of the street.

The beautiful youth asked Zhang Gui to wait a moment while he went in to report.

After waiting a moment, another person came out and called Zhang Gui in.

According to Zhang Gui's thoughts, it wouldn't have been strange if there were banquets inside the large tent, or if he were watching cool young ladies singing and dancing, or warriors wrestling for entertainment.

But he never expected that the first thing he saw in reality was a metal room.

Around the metal room, many blurry figures that looked like they were pixelated, along with a clear middle-aged man sitting cross-legged on the ground, were saying something in the tent.

Zhang Gui was only inches away, yet he couldn't hear clearly at all.

"This must be affected by a spell."

Just as this conjecture arose in Zhang Gui's heart, the Divine Cong in his body began to throb, and his eyes and ears grew hot.

The blurry spots of the figures before his eyes began to be dispelled bit by bit, and the sounds in his ears gradually became clear.

When resisting magic, unless there is a vast disparity in strength, both sides are bound to have a sense of it.

Zhang Gui hurriedly suppressed the "bouncing" Divine Cong in his body, pretending to be surprised, his eyes darting around while he remained silent.

At this moment, the middle-aged man with the clear figure suddenly said:

"Zhang Gui.

Father Zhang Bashan, a scholar for thirty-six years.

Mother Caiyang Duojie.

The 'Female Great Stone Crown' of the 'Shi Corpse,' a small vassal state of the Ming Song Kingdom, which is to say, the Long Princess of a foreign land."

Even if Zhang Gui were an idiot, he would know that the one speaking must be Zhang Qitong, so he hurriedly bowed to his feet and waved his hands, saying:

"Lord Qitong, please don't gild my face. A female chieftain of a barbarian tribe that can't even afford a meal—how dare I be called a princess?

Back then, before the Great Ancestor conquered the world, in order to quell border troubles and facilitate the mobilization of troops from the barbarians, he conferred titles on over a hundred vassal states.

It was purely an expedient measure; how could it be taken seriously?

Moreover, now that the 'Shi Corpse' has suffered disasters for years, there are less than a hundred people left in total.

It's not even as good as a wild village; how can there be such a vassal state in the world?"

According to the rules in the Ming Song Dynasty's constitution, the *Great Zhao*, the status of a vassal state princess is only one rank lower than an imperial princess.

A Ming Song princess is First Rank, so a vassal state princess is Second Rank.

And for a foreign land like the 'Shi Corpse,' the politics are primitive and the folk customs are unrestrained.

In ancient times, the princess was the heir to the throne, but in the last millennium, it changed to the princess's son being the heir.

The former was influenced by ancient matrilineal clan culture.

The latter was because it was a tiny country, and at most, there were a thousand households; how could they have the strength to build an inner palace or use eunuchs?

The sovereign's son could not be guaranteed to be his own.

But no matter who the princess had a child with, it would necessarily have royal blood.

Some systems seem bizarre, but they all have profound meanings.

Therefore, Zhang Gui was theoretically the crown prince of a Ming Song Dynasty vassal state, with a rank equivalent to an imperial prince's heir, which was exceptionally noble.

His invisible political status was pushed to the limit.

But the problem was that apart from status, he had no subjects, no military strength, no money, no power, and he didn't even have food to eat unless he worked.

Let alone a fallen phoenix not being as good as a chicken; he hadn't even fallen, he was just a sparrow.

"Alas, the country has been established for a long time, and there are many troubles in the world, so financial resources are scarce.

I heard that even the wedding of the Pingjiang Commandery Prince's heir was held in patched ceremonial robes.

And that is the direct lineage passed down from the Great Ancestor's fourth son, the Fu Prince; let alone others.

As for some hardships, you shouldn't take them to heart."

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 18 =====