Chapter 40

First Volume, Chapter 40: Wise Words and Golden Sayings

Every skilled craftsman requires years of accumulated experience, for in this age there are few convenient tools—even the most basic nails are extremely scarce; whether building houses or decorating interiors, over ninety percent rely on mortise-and-tenon joints, making craftsmanship and experience paramount.

The boy before him, named Lu Ming, looked nothing like a "skilled craftsman," yet seeing his stubborn expression, Qin Feng decided to give him a chance.

"Raise your head."

Hearing Qin Feng's words, Lu Ming's body trembled slightly—not from nervousness, but from fear.

The Zhang Family Squad had been ruined because they got entangled with the Official Residence; Qin Feng, however, was one of the most powerful aristocratic youths in Jingdu, and serving such a man carried grave risk—any slip, and not only would he not receive his labor cost, but his life might be forfeit.

Seeing Lu Ming cowering, Qin Xiaofu dropped his usual sycophancy and glared angrily: "The Young Master told you to raise your head—did you stuff donkey hair in your ears?!"

Qin Feng did not stop Qin Xiaofu's bullying; whether as a merchant or a noble, one must have a loyal "villain" by one's side.

As the saying goes: kindness in men invites abuse; gentleness in horses invites riding.

Being kind-hearted is fine, but at critical moments you must command authority—otherwise you have no basic credibility, let alone control over subordinates.

The chattering Chiguo crowd suddenly remembered Qin Feng's notorious reputation and instantly wilted like eggplants struck by frost, daring not utter another word.

Lu Ming gathered his courage and slowly raised his head; his face was filthy, his cheekbones prominent—clearly long-term malnourishment—but his eyes burned bright and resolute.

Qin Feng casually sized up Lu Ming: "How old are you? How many years have you worked as a craftsman? What's your specialty?"

Facing this famed figure of Jingdu, Lu Ming dared not hesitate: "I am nineteen. Since age three, I've worked alongside my elders—carpentry, masonry, forging, decoration, machinery—I can handle them all."

The craftsmen crammed in the crowd, though disdainful of Lu Ming, said nothing—after all, in Jingdu, if the Zhang Family Squad claimed second place, no one dared claim first.

Hearing Lu Ming's self-introduction, Qin Feng grew instantly interested; he hadn't expected this boy to be a jack-of-all-trades, and immediately asked:

"Even if your skills are decent, decorating a Wine House is a major job, and the deadline is only three days—do you really think you can handle it alone? That's pure fantasy."

Feeling Qin Feng's skepticism, Lu Ming clenched his fists and went all in:

"The Zhang Family Squad has countless skilled craftsmen; several of my uncles once built tools for the Imperial Palace. If the Young Master doesn't believe me, just ask the craftsmen here. I've mastered their true arts—when it comes to craftsmanship, in all of Jingdu, I bow to no one!"

"In three days, if I fail to satisfy the Young Master, I won't take a single copper—and I'll offer my life as atonement!"

From Lu Ming's unwavering gaze, Qin Feng sensed this boy was a "stubborn one"—honestly, such people were hard to deal with, but when they worked, they were obsessively meticulous, almost like drilling into a nail—this was the craftsman's spirit.

Honestly, Qin Feng was moved—but before nodding, he asked: "If you're so damn good, why are you still living like this?"

Hearing this, Lu Ming froze, then silently laughed in his heart—he was lowly and powerless; even risking his worthless life couldn't earn trust.

Seeing Lu Ming's wounded, bitter expression, Qin Feng suddenly remembered: in this era, "cow's vagina" didn't mean "awesome"—it referred to a specific part of a female cow.

Shu Feng, ever since following Qin Feng, had heard him constantly utter words like "cow's vagina," "stupid cunt," "stupid cunt," and "second cunt."

At first, he thought Qin Feng had no manners at all—worse than street thugs.

Later, after more exposure, he learned from Qin Xiaofu that the Young Master's so-called vulgarities carried entirely different meanings.

Shu Feng knew Qin Feng had taken a strong interest in Lu Ming; seeing Lu Ming about to retreat, he spoke up: "The Young Master is praising you—answer quickly!"

"Huh?" Lu Ming was stunned again—he'd never heard anyone use "cow's vagina," a vulgar term, to praise someone.

But Lu Ming didn't dwell on it; this decoration job was too vital—his chance to revive the Zhang Family Squad hung in the balance!

Lu Ming dropped to his knees, voice thick with sorrow and indignation: "I dare not deceive the Young Master—I am a criminal. Though I barely escaped death, the death penalty was spared but the living punishment remains: I am forever banned from any craftwork. If caught touching a tool, they chop off one finger per offense."

So that was it. Qin Feng sneered inwardly. Civilian Artisans serving the court always worked diligently—never cutting corners; most even spent their own money to improve quality.

Anyone with half a brain could guess: the Ministry of Works officials had embezzled funds, then framed the Zhang Family Squad when the scandal broke.

Qin Feng immediately ordered Xiao Xiangxiang to hand Lu Ming a Five Thousand Liang Silver Note, speaking casually: "You're the one. This is the deposit. When the job's done, you'll get thirty thousand Liang—no less. If you fail, you know the consequences."

Lu Ming clutched the "heavy" Silver Note, feeling as if he were dreaming.

As a convicted criminal and a lone man, even common folk refused to hire him for house repairs—yet this Qin Young Master, known as the "First of the Capital's Four Scourges," had actually chosen him.

Lu Ming was overwhelmed, unsure what to say.

Qin Feng didn't need heartfelt nonsense—he needed results. To ensure the Wine House opened on schedule, he had to make his stance clear: Lu Ming must not fear for his safety.

Qin Feng had already noticed the constables crammed in the crowd; he ordered Qin Xiaofu to drag one forward.

Standing before the son of the Minister of War, the constable's legs shook, his face twisted into a grin worse than crying: "Young Master Qin, what are your orders? I swear I'll do my utmost."

Qin Feng stuck out his pinky, scratched his nose, wiped it on the constable's robe, then smoothed out the wrinkles with a warm, gentle smile: "Understood?"

"Yes yes yes!" the constable stammered nervously: "Lu Ming is Young Master Qin's man—I'll report this to my lord immediately. The three squads will not touch Lu Ming so much as a hair."

Good. He's got sense.

Qin Feng waved his hand, signaling the constable to leave—but the constable didn't move.