Spending Wisely

For monsters and some humans, these dried meat strips were delectable snacks.

Father and son, along with Uncle Hao and the steward, kept searching but found nothing that caught their eye, so they gave up.

He Lingchuan glanced down at the necklace around his neck.

This item was unusual; it was no longer in its original form. He had mulled over whether to offer it up, but a voice deep inside warned him: Do not show it to anyone!

The premonition was so strong that after much internal conflict, he chose to follow his instincts.

"Put these away. The two guards will still be under the supervision of the Red-White Path. Oh, and I recall that the Red-White Path has a farm on the southern outskirts. It's the off-season now, so there shouldn't be many people around. Lingchuan, do you understand? … Good. Go after dinner and make it flawless." He Chunhua then turned to Uncle Hao. "Ah Hao, stay behind for a moment."

He Lingchuan acknowledged the order and left, leaving Uncle Hao in place.

When the eldest son of the He family disappeared beyond the corridor, He Chunhua addressed Uncle Hao: "Tell me exactly what happened today."

Uncle Hao recounted everything in detail, without exaggeration or omission.

After listening, He Chunhua nodded and dismissed him.

The room fell silent. He Chunhua stared at the leopard carcass on the table, lost in thought for quite some time.

The steward Wu, waiting nearby, finally reminded him after two incense sticks had burned: "Master, it's time for dinner."

He Chunhua responded with a soft grunt, "What do you think about this matter?"

"The young master appeared reckless, but his actions were actually quite appropriate," Steward Wu chuckled. "Those two guards should not be allowed to roam the city freely, poking their noses into everything."

"That little rascal has started to use his brain. Perhaps his severe injury this time was a blessing in disguise." He Chunhua exhaled softly.

"Master, your earlier concern about the young master's sudden change in temperament should be laid to rest by now."

"Indeed." He Chunhua sighed wistfully. "Let's go eat."

No matter how nostalgic He Chunhua felt for his homeland or how much the He residence mimicked the capital's style, their meals had to bow to local resources. They ate much the same as the natives of Heishui City.

As the saying goes: when in the mountains, eat from the mountains; when by the water, eat from the water; when living on the plains, eat from the plains.

He Lingchuan was feasting on half a boiled lamb shank. The lamb had been simply boiled in water, with just some ginger and scallions added to neutralize the gaminess.

Boiling preserved the pure flavor. The lamb was naturally tender and chewy, and dipping it into spicy salt and pepper made it irresistibly delicious. He Lingchuan sliced, dipped, and devoured, sighing contentedly with each bite.

The chefs at the governor's residence only used yearling rams. These rams, fond of roaming the Gobi and grazing on herbs like dandelion and scutellaria, produced meat that was rich and aromatic—distinctly superior to lamb from other regions. This was a specialty of Hongya Road.

Seated beside He Chunhua was a well-dressed woman who delicately blew on her millet porridge before sipping it gracefully, a stark contrast to He Lingchuan's voracious meat-eating.

This woman was Ying Hongchan, He Chunhua's official wife and the matron of the He household. Occasionally, she'd taste a piece of lamb, but only if the steward meticulously sliced and arranged it on her plate.

She listened to the conversation between her husband and youngest son with a gentle smile, occasionally glancing at He Lingchuan.

The family of four was all present and accounted for.

He Chunhua was currently discussing the annual taxes of Qiansong County with his youngest son.

Yes, taxes. One of Heishui City's most discussed topics. He Chunhua's most capable aide wasn't an experienced accountant or a trusted advisor but his not-quite-fourteen-year-old son, He Yue.

This young prodigy learned to read at three, memorized over three hundred poems by seven, and exposed several cases of embezzlement at eight by auditing the family's accounts. Two embezzling accountants were sent to jail because of him.

By the time He Yue turned twelve, he was not only proficient in chess, calligraphy, and painting but had also begun offering strategic advice on He Chunhua's administrative matters.

He Chunhua, far from being a pedantic scholar, recognized the clarity and efficacy of his son's suggestions and encouraged him wholeheartedly. As a result, He Yue grew increasingly confident, even taking on some of his father's workload.

Such discussions were now commonplace.

Meanwhile, He Lingchuan didn't participate in their conversation at all. He was content to savor his meal in peace—just as the original He Lingchuan would have done.

After all, he had nothing to contribute.

The He brothers had inherited their father's handsome features. He Lingchuan was tall, with well-defined features and a robust physique, while He Yue was delicate and scholarly, resembling their mother.

Their personalities, however, were worlds apart.

He Yue had a photographic memory, while He Lingchuan, the eldest son, could barely stay awake after reading for fifteen minutes—a more effective sedative than any sleeping pill.

If there's anything more infuriating than a "child prodigy," it's having a prodigy as your younger brother.

It was a complete, crushing defeat in every respect.

"All right, let's eat!" Ying Hongchan finally interrupted the discussion between father and son. "The dishes are getting cold."

In truth, the food wasn't just getting cold—it was nearly gone. He Lingchuan, being a martial artist, ate at least twice as much as an average person.

Watching Ying Hongchan place a soft-fried river shrimp on He Yue's plate, He Lingchuan wiped his hands and said, "Second Brother, send a customs clearance document to Liu Baobao's trading company tomorrow. Their caravan is about to return and won't want to be delayed at Baitong Pass."

"I've told you not to call me Second Brother!" He Yue protested. "It sounds awful. Besides, the Liu family owes two years of transport taxes, including late penalties, totaling over seven hundred taels. They must pay before receiving the clearance."

"If their caravan doesn't return, how will they pay the seven hundred taels?" He Lingchuan chuckled. "We're all old acquaintances; let's cut them some slack. I'll keep an eye on them."

He Yue wanted to argue further, but He Chunhua intervened, "It's fine. Issue the document."

His word was final, leaving He Yue to grudgingly agree, though not without shooting a glare at He Lingchuan.

Slack? More like countless instances of favoritism. And when had his elder brother ever actually followed through on monitoring anyone?

Yet their father always sided with his elder brother.

Grinning, He Lingchuan raised his glass of sea buckthorn juice to his brother, flashing a bright smile.

In truth, he had come to understand after a few incidents: this wasn't personal gain but a means of assisting his father. As a government official, He Chunhua couldn't always act directly; tasks like these fell to his eldest son.

"Speaking of which, Big Brother's expenses this month have dropped significantly. Only two hundred taels from the household coffers, compared to the usual nine hundred," He Yue said pointedly. "Though your medical expenses after your injury totaled over three hundred…"

He Lingchuan's heart skipped a beat. Feigning impatience, he said, "I get it, I get it. I was bedridden and didn't have the chance to spend. I'll make up for it next month!"

It seemed even frugality could raise suspicion.

Roughly estimating, one tael of silver equaled a thousand copper coins. He Lingchuan's typical monthly expenditure exceeded ninety thousand coins!