Chapter 97: All Arranged

Wang Cong confidently took Pan Yun to the government office the next day to handle the paperwork.

Pan Yun had been here once before, last time to inquire about the procedures and materials needed to build the mountain god temple, and had waited in line for half an hour just to see the Registrar.

This time, Wang Cong brought her straight to see the county magistrate.

Magistrate Ming Xuan, around thirty years old, with a small mustache, sat leisurely in the main hall reading a book.

The government office runner led Wang Cong in and called out before they even reached him: "Your Excellency, Mr. Wang Cong has arrived."

Ming Xuan dropped his book, revealing half his face; seeing Wang Cong, he immediately tossed it aside and burst into laughter, "It really is you, hahaha! I knew you'd be back soon—when did you return to the county?"

Wang Cong bowed and smiled, "I arrived home yesterday, and came today."

Ming Xuan's gaze swept over Pan Yun as he shook his head and chuckled, "You came so quickly—clearly you've come with no good intentions."

"I can't hide it from Your Excellency—I've come with a favor to ask."

Ming Xuan turned and sat back down in his chair. "Then I'll hear you out before deciding whether to rise and chat with you."

Wang Cong smiled and introduced Pan Yun: "This is my junior uncle. My third and fourth uncles encountered her by chance while traveling and discovered she had exceptional talent for the Dao. So they redeemed her from servitude and brought her back to the mountain. Now, like my father, she has taken the mountain god Pan Gong as her master, obeying the mountain god's decree to adopt his surname—Pan. She's here to see Your Excellency for two reasons: first, to change her name and exit her former registration; second, regarding the construction of the mountain god temple."

Ming Xuan paused thoughtfully. "It's not a difficult matter—I can handle it all for you. But one thing: won't you be traveling for trade next year? Won't you take the imperial examinations?"

Wang Cong shook his head and smiled. "I have no interest in an official career."

Ming Xuan frowned. "You—you, whether in Daoist arts or commerce, are chasing minor paths. None compare to the vast prospects of an official career. A true man born into this world shouldn't only care for his own comfort."

Wang Cong: "My trading house now employs fifty-six people—that means I support at least fifty-six lives. I'm content. As my business grows, I'll support even more. How is that only caring for myself?"

Ming Xuan: "But with your talent, you could become a local magistrate and benefit far more people."

Wang Cong shook his head. "Not necessarily. I've seen too many officials in the court bound by circumstance. In terms of actual benefit to the people, they're likely less effective than a mere merchant. As Ge Zhenxiang says—if you can't be a great man, nor live freely in your heart, why bother?"

Ming Xuan was speechless for a moment, then said, "You overthink it. The Emperor is wise and mighty—we still have chances to fulfill our ambitions."

Pan Yun sneered, adding cryptically, "The Emperor is wise and mighty?"

Ming Xuan turned to look at her.

Pan Yun lifted her eyelids, her bright eyes fixed directly on him. "Is Wang Zhen still in favor?"

Ming Xuan's face flushed instantly.

Wang Cong burst into laughter, clapping his shoulder. "Don't mind her, Ming brother—my junior uncle is blunt, but that's exactly what I wanted to ask you too."

Ming Xuan angrily brushed off his hand. "Say this only to me—don't go spreading it outside."

The black cat crouched under the eaves, silently crossing the threshold. It asked her: 【Why provoke him?】

【If you want to clear your name, the official court is a hurdle you can't avoid. Know yourself and know your enemy, and you'll win every battle. In this Yushan County, is there anyone better informed about the court than the magistrate?】

Pan Yun replied silently in her mind: 【He tolerates me speaking so freely about the Emperor—that means he's lenient. Building this relationship will make gathering imperial court information easier later.】

Pan Xiaohei had no reply. It stepped forward with quiet feline grace—when Ming Xuan suddenly exclaimed, "Where did this stray cat come from?"

Pan Yun picked it up. "It's not a stray—it's the spirit cat of Mount Sanqing's Sanqing Temple."

Ming Xuan: …

He turned to Wang Cong. "Your Sanqing Temple is becoming more and more mystical."

Pan Yun, who had been about to promote her talismans, immediately fell silent, hugging the cat and smiling sweetly at him.

He was an atheist.

She had no intention of preaching her talismans to an atheist—it would be wasted effort and only invite trouble.

Wang Cong didn't press his friend to believe what he believed. He changed the subject: "Enough of state affairs—let's talk about common matters. Could Your Excellency help this humble citizen with this small request?"

Ming Xuan rose and led him to the household office. "Have you chosen a name?"

Wang Cong: "Yes—single character: Yun."

"Bamboo—pure and noble. A good omen," Ming Xuan glanced at Pan Yun. "I hope she lives up to your hopes."

Wang Cong pulled out Zhang Xiaomei's household registration page and the original slave contract.

No one knew whether the slave contract was real or fake—but Ming Xuan glanced at it, couldn't tell, and treated it as genuine.

"Where will you register her?"

Wang Cong hurriedly said, "Register her at Sanqing Temple on Mount Sanqing." Ming Xuan frowned slightly. "I recall your Sanqing Temple already has two orphaned young Daoists registered."

"My two junior sisters were abandoned infants—picked up by my father and uncles on the road, raised from infancy until now. Your Excellency wouldn't deny them registration, would you?"

Ming Xuan said, "The imperial court has rules: found abandoned infants must be sent to the Orphanage. Your Sanqing Temple raising them privately violates regulations. And as a Daoist temple, you're under stricter scrutiny than secular households. Your Sanqing Temple is a minor temple."

Wang Cong smiled faintly. "If my two junior sisters hadn't been picked up, they'd have starved, frozen, or been eaten by wolves and dogs. Your Excellency—there are countless beggar children on the streets of Yushan County. If the Orphanage were effective, wouldn't those children have somewhere to go?"

Ming Xuan: "You! You, whenever I mention your Sanqing Temple breaking rules, you insult me."

Wang Cong: "You started it—you insulted my Sanqing Temple first. And I merely pointed out facts. If the truth insults you, shouldn't you reflect and correct yourself?"

Pan Yun interjected: "I know where the beggar children in the county need help. Would Your Excellency like me to guide you?"

Ming Xuan: "I see—you two, uncle and niece, came here today specifically to annoy me."

Wang Cong burst into laughter. "Not annoying, not annoying—I brought you a gift. First, handle my matter, then I'll give it to you."

The Registrar and clerks in the household office wanted to cover their ears and shrink into the floor, vanishing on the spot.

!. Read

But that was impossible.

Wang Cong called the Registrar and registered Pan Yun on the spot.

The register recorded clearly: her original place of origin, the reason for registration at Sanqing Temple on Mount Sanqing, her former name and current name—all meticulously noted.

But the issued household registration page could not contain all that—it listed only her current name: Pan Yun.

Pan Yun wanted exactly this registration page. Her lips curled slightly; her eyes sparkled. With this, it would be far easier for her to travel to Datong to find her father and brothers.

Wang Cong also handled the paperwork for building the mountain god temple.

Ming Xuan stood beside him, flipping through the documents he brought. "I've said before—your mountain god temple on Mount Sanqing has long needed repair. The government office could contribute some funds, and with donations from benevolent patrons, building it wouldn't be a problem."

"Not for any other reason—during the September Sanqing Festival, when other Daoists come to Mount Sanqing to contemplate the Dao, it would look better," Ming Xuan shook his head. "But you're stubborn—you refuse government office funding and refuse to raise donations."

Wang Cong said: "I already told you, this is the Mountain God's decree—He only wants my father and my junior master to pay for building the temple; even if I, his disciple's disciple, want to contribute, He won't allow it."

Wang Cong was telling the truth, but Ming Xuan didn't believe him, shaking his head repeatedly, "Hmph, you're just fooling me—you won't even take free money."

Wang Cong smiled: "We know the magistrate's good intentions, but we can't build the temple—we can repair the road instead."

He said: "The road from Yushan County to Mount Sanqing is still too narrow. The mountain path is hard to traverse; every year during the Mount Sanqing Festival, if it rains, the road becomes even worse. If you want to develop the economy around Mount Sanqing, why not improve the road—better, even better—and widen the bridge between Fenshui Village and the mountain base."

"Don't mention it," Ming Xuan said. "The county office only offered you a hundred taels to build the temple, and now you want me to spend ten thousand taels on road repairs? Even if you emptied the county treasury, I couldn't produce that much money."

Wang Cong: "That stretch of road doesn't need that much money."

"It's dozens of li of mountain path—you want it widened, protected from rockfalls, and a bridge rebuilt—how could you not need it?"

Ming Xuan cut him off mid-sentence: "What about the gift? I've handled all the paperwork for you—where's the gift you brought me?"

Wang Cong cheerfully pulled out two sheets of paper from his sleeve: "These are essays by Wang Xingjian, which I passed by in Jingcheng. I had someone copy one and brought it all the way back for you—take a look."

Ming Xuan was delighted: "Essays by Minister Wang? I must read them carefully."

The Registrar and the Clerk: …

They couldn't understand—they truly couldn't understand. They'd thought it was silver notes.

Ming Xuan immediately opened them and began reading with great interest.

The Registrar and the Clerk turned away their gazes, utterly baffled—how could an essay compare to silver notes?

The Registrar handed Wang Cong the completed form and smiled: "Mr. Wang, is there anything else you need?"

Wang Cong glanced at it, immediately bowed in thanks, and said everything was fine.

He casually placed a small pouch beside the Registrar's hand.

The Registrar quickly glanced at Ming Xuan—seeing him absorbed in the essays and not looking this way—he immediately slipped the pouch into his sleeve.

Wang Cong folded the form, draped his arm over Ming Xuan's shoulder, and led him out: "Come on, come on—I'll treat you to a meal at a restaurant. While we eat, I'll tell you—I've gained a lot of new insights on this trip."

"Oh?" Ming Xuan immediately tucked away the essays and walked shoulder-to-shoulder with him: "What insights?"

"We'll tell you when we get to the restaurant."

"Why go to a restaurant? Come home—my sister-in-law already prepared the meal. Call your auntie too—we'll eat together. Afterward, I'll let you admire my calligraphy—this year, my writing has improved greatly."

Today's lucky number is any number ending in 9, screenshot as proof.

(End of Chapter)