Chapter 71: Troubles Everywhere

Seeing Zhuge Yu respectfully present a stack of banknotes, Jiang Mingyu was surprised; after carefully counting, he found it amounted to eighty thousand taels—an amount far higher than he had expected.

“Eighty thousand taels? That’s too much,” Jiang Mingyu couldn’t help asking.

Zhuge Yu’s face beamed with flattery. “Master, you’re unaware—besides the thirty thousand jin of coal I pre-ordered, I’ve also secured several friends who wish to purchase large quantities, totaling at least sixty to seventy thousand taels. The rest is merely a small token of my gratitude. You don’t know how hard I worked—my mouth was covered in sores just to sell your coal. Master, for all my effort, you must teach me well. My reputation in Yasmodu Regional Military Commissioner’s City rests entirely on your wisdom.”

Beside him, Wang Zhe smirked, his expression saying, “I told you so,” as he glanced pointedly at Jiang Mingyu.

Jiang Mingyu could not refuse such a generous gift, so he clapped his hands. “Fine. Bring me a brush.”

Then, under the astonished gazes of Wang Zhe and Zhuge Yu, Jiang Mingyu swiftly wrote ten poems he had “borrowed.”

His brush danced, ink flowing like clouds—characters appeared: “Clouds dream of robes, flowers dream of beauty,” “On Phoenix Terrace, phoenixes soar.” Both men widened their eyes, mouths agape.

Jiang Mingyu casually tossed the ten plagiarized poems into Zhuge Yu’s arms. “Take them. Study them well.”

Wang Zhe, who loved poetry and had deep literary knowledge, was speechless at Jiang Mingyu’s nonchalance.

Each of these poems could stir the nation—but Jiang Mingyu treated them like trash.

Wang Zhe imagined the uproar these poems would ignite and sighed. “Lord Jiang, your talent makes you the undisputed greatest scholar of Da Feng!”

Jiang Mingyu, who barely had enough to eat, smiled bitterly. What good was a title that couldn’t buy rice?

Watching Zhuge Yu’s eyes gleam with treasure-like awe, already envisioning fame and honor in Yasmodu from these poems, Jiang Mingyu said nothing.

Jiang Mingyu softly shook his head, thinking: You have no idea where these poems truly came from.

Then he spoke: “I don’t care what you do with them, nor do I wish to know. But remember—should anyone ever ask you where these poems originated, you must never say I wrote them. Understood?”

Not only Zhuge Yu looked bewildered, but Wang Zhe too was confused. “Lord Jiang, why? With your talent, shouldn’t you be proud to claim such masterpieces and let them spread across the land?”

Jiang Mingyu smiled calmly, neither humble nor arrogant. “Men fear fame, pigs fear fat. Once you’re famous, trouble follows. I’ve never liked drawing attention, nor do I wish these poems to stir chaos. Pretend you never saw them. Take them.”

Zhuge Yu instantly understood, bowing deeply. “So my master is so detached—he treats fame and glory as dung! Truly admirable. I understand. I will keep these poems’ origins secret, not a word to anyone.”

Jiang Mingyu nodded indifferently, thinking: When these “jade-shattered, grease-stained” poems spread, you’ll learn just how powerful these words truly are.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

With matters nearly settled, Jiang Mingyu bid Wang Zhe farewell and prepared to ride hard back to Shangmu County with Murong Yunhai and Tukesulu.

Zhuge Yu, visibly reluctant, chased after Jiang Mingyu’s carriage. “Master! I shall visit you in person soon! Don’t worry about the coal—I’ll promote it with all my strength. Await good news!”

Jiang Mingyu gave a slight nod and a faint smile, then spurred his horse away.

The group rode swiftly out of the city gate. Murong Yunhai, gazing at the pile of banknotes in the carriage, grinned. “This trip to the regional capital was worth it—we made eighty thousand taels!”

Jiang Mingyu sighed. The journey had been bittersweet: he’d clashed with Prince Qi, humiliated Huang Changshi at court, and acquired a sycophantic disciple.

Worse, Huang Chaoran, humiliated so badly, would surely harbor hatred—his life would only grow harder.

The group hurried on, finally returning to Shangmu County after a day and night. As they entered the yamen, Wu Xiao rushed forward, beaming. “My lord! You’re back!”

Jiang Mingyu stepped into the yamen, chilled by the wind, and asked: “How did things progress while I was gone?”

Wu Xiao nodded eagerly. “Right after you left, I led men to Little Eagle Mountain. We searched for an hour and found about two thousand taels. These bandits were pathetically poor.”

Jiang Mingyu sank into a chair and waved his hand. “Even a mosquito is meat. Good work. Rest now.”

“By the way, Xiao Er, gather more laborers. We’ve got another big job at Qinglong Zhai .”

Wu Xiao eagerly agreed, clearly excited about the venture.

After sending him off, Jiang Mingyu collapsed onto his bed.

The round trip had drained him—he needed rest.

Thinking of the tens of thousands of taels now added to the yamen’s coffers, he smiled faintly. The effort had finally paid off.

In the northern quarter of Shangmu City, within Prince Qi’s palace grounds.

Since returning from Yasmodu, Prince Qi’s face had darkened like a trampled bitter melon—not only had his hoped-for glory vanished, but Jiang Mingyu had mocked him mercilessly. He’d lost both wife and soldiers, and his rage burned white-hot.

Back in Shangmu, Prince Qi flew into a fury. He ordered his men to beat Xiao Sanzi, the man who’d given the bad advice, with sticks. Xiao Sanzi screamed in agony.

Then Prince Qi drank himself into a stupor, collapsing into unconsciousness as palace maids supported him.

But the next morning, his hangover brought not just a splitting headache, but an uncontrollable fury.

Waking only at noon, Prince Qi, in his irritation, decided to seize Qinglong Zhai , seize Jiang Mingyu’s coal route entirely, and vent his rage.

He swept his sleeve aside and marched to the camp. With one command, troops assembled instantly.

Prince Qi’s grim face twisted into a cold smile—he would make Jiang Mingyu pay for provoking him.

Prince Qi shouted loudly, and his soldiers immediately formed ranks.

His head still throbbed, but rage drove him to speak: “Men! Listen! Foreigners attacked recently, yet Jiang Mingyu stole our glory—this is our greatest shame! I’ve just received word that Qinglong Zhai harbors spies. We must seize it immediately, execute the traitors, and prove the might of Prince Qi’s army—let Jiang Mingyu know defending Shangmu is our sacred duty!”

The soldiers knew nothing of the truth. Hearing the order, they immediately prepared to march.

Seeing his army ready, Prince Qi’s grim face finally cracked into a cold smile—he would make Jiang Mingyu pay for offending him.

“March!” he ordered. The army surged forward toward Qinglong Zhai .

In Yasmodu Regional Military Commissioner’s City, the Changshi’s residence.

A woman in red, stunningly beautiful yet filled with hatred and grievance, shook Huang Chaoran’s fat shoulders violently, her long, glossy black hair whipping with each motion.

Lips clenched, tears welling, she hissed: “Is he a special envoy, so he can do whatever he wants? I don’t care how high his rank is—you’re the high-ranking Changshi of Yasmodu! My father and brother died for no reason—my family has no heirs left. What’s the point of living?”

With that, tears spilled over. She grabbed a wooden chair beside her and climbed onto it, positioning her white neck against the rough beam overhead, ready to hang herself.

Huang Chaoran lunged, snatching her arm before she could act. “Madam, calm down! I never said I wouldn’t avenge your father.”

Standing on the chair, ungainly, she yanked her arm free. “Husband, what do you mean?”

Huang Chaoran frowned deeply. “Madam, you’re right. We must avenge your father and brother. Besides, Jiang Mingyu humiliated me in court—I hate him too.”

“I will find a way to destroy Jiang Mingyu. He will not escape unscathed. I will take his head and offer it to your father’s spirit.” His fists clenched tight, eyes glinting with cold malice.

Hearing this, He Hua lowered her leg and whispered: “So how will you deal with Jiang Mingyu? Send assassins to kill him?”

Huang Chaoran shook his head. “No. The Inspector knows our feud. If Jiang Mingyu vanishes right after leaving, he’ll suspect me.”

“We need a flawless plan to destroy Jiang Mingyu. He’s a special envoy—everything must be planned carefully.”

The beautiful He Hua wiped her tears. “Husband, what plan do you have against that dog Jiang Mingyu?”

Huang Chaoran paced slowly, his fat body lumbering like a clumsy pig.

After a long silence, his thick hands suddenly slapped together. He laughed. “Madam, I have it! We simply do this… Jiang Mingyu will die for sure.”

He Hua leaned forward urgently. “How? Tell me!”

“Madam, listen to me—just do this…”

Finally, Huang Chaoran narrowed his small eyes and grinned wickedly. “This will leave Jiang Mingyu with no path to survival…”