Chapter 6: Secret
The other bodyguards could distinctly feel the sharp prickle of the wood pressing against their necks; the coarse splinters had even pierced the skin. Ye Ning’s strength was not great, but the wooden chair leg was jagged, and combined with his deft technique, the bodyguard’s neck caved slightly where the splinters pressed, edges weeping faint drops of blood.
The bodyguard trembled violently but stiffly said, “Just you? A mere Ger? And… and slaughter pigs? You Gers only know how sows ruin their litters!”
He was just a Ger, after all — not someone they dared to kill. The Zhou family’s guards ruled Qingtian Village, acting like tyrants. They usually bullied people and snatched small things; they had never faced the wider world. Killing someone was unimaginable; they could not believe a delicate Ger could accomplish anything so bold.
Ye Ning only chuckled at their arrogance, offering no reply. The chair leg in his hand suddenly shifted, sliding slowly downward along the bodyguard leader’s neck.
The leader’s eyes darted quickly, following the motion of the chair leg. The jagged edge traced his neck, chest, and even lower abdomen. His scalp tingled, and a rush of conflicting heat rose in his chest — he felt as if Ye Ning were frightened, yet a mere Ger was now teasing him provocatively!
Just as he began to laugh, the splintered chair leg pressed firmly against his inner thigh.
Ye Ning spoke slowly, “This area has a major artery. If I drive this in, you’d bleed out faster than from a neck wound. If you don’t believe me… shall we… try?”
The bodyguard’s thoughts shifted in an instant: moments ago he had been flushed with lustful imaginings; now a chill ran down the back of his neck. He stammered, “Y-you dare… ahhh!!”
His scream instantly turned shrill and desperate. As he reacted, the other bodyguards began shouting too. Even Zhang Zhiyuan, his cousin, thought someone was being killed and cried out as well. The tiny noodle stall, barely enough space to turn around, erupted in deafening screams.
Bang bang!
A knock interrupted the cacophony — the sound came from inside the sedan, cutting through the endless, escalating screams.
Thud—
The bodyguard leader collapsed to the ground. It wasn’t blood loss; Ye Ning had only scared him. Yet his legs went weak, and he fell like a punching bag, a hulking man reduced to a trembling heap.
His eyes rolled back, face slick with sweat, lips grayish-purple, body shivering uncontrollably. Ye Ning lightly twirled the chair leg in his hand and said, “Cousin, fetch ink and brush for me.”
Zhang Zhiyuan was still dazed, slowly returning to his senses. He did not understand why Ye Ning needed writing materials, but as a proper scholar, he always carried his writing set — brush, ink, paper, and inkstone — wherever he went. He quickly retrieved them and laid them on the dust-covered wooden table.
“Ye Ning, write… write what?”
Ye Ning’s gaze was calm, yet piercing as he looked at the terrified bodyguard. “Write down everything: how Zhou Dalang used the engagement as an excuse to traffic people, failed, and then sent his guards to threaten us. Have them sign it.”
“Ok… okay!” Zhang Zhiyuan was skilled at writing and immediately documented every detail precisely.
Ye Ning added, “Oh, and also…”
The bodyguard shivered violently, quivering. “A-and also?”
Ye Ning smiled faintly. “They damaged the door panel, so they must pay. Just now they also broke a chair leg, they must compensate for that too. Record it all and have them sign.”
The bodyguard looked wronged, glancing at the chair leg in Ye Ning’s hand. “The chair leg is clearly—”
His words faltered when Ye Ning cast a light, dismissive glance. Now he understood the meaning of “bullies fear the brave.” The Zhou bodyguards had always preyed on the weak, assuming no one in Qingtian Village could challenge them. The villagers had cowered silently under their torment, but now… the tables had turned.
Zhang Zhiyuan nodded, adding the door panel and chair to the record. Reading as he wrote, he pronounced, “Zhou family bodyguards… damaged one noodle stall door panel and one chair, must provide compensation.”
The Zhou bodyguards were unwilling, opening their mouths to protest, but the words stuck in their throats. It was as if a thorn had lodged there — they could neither spit it out nor swallow it, left to silently suffer, cursing their luck in their hearts.
When Zhang Zhiyuan finished writing, Ye Ning looked at the bodyguards signing and said, “Today, I’ve documented all the ‘good deeds’ the Zhou family has done, along with your signatures. Go back and tell Zhou Dalang that if he isn’t afraid, I’ll take these records to the authorities and lay everything out. With your signatures here, you are witnesses.”
The bodyguards dared not speak. Ye Ning continued, “Even if Zhou Dalang has connections in the government, it doesn’t matter. Who cares? The Zhou family is big and powerful, while I, Ye Ning, am just an ordinary, powerless villager. Then I will make hundreds, even thousands, of copies of these records and post them in every street and alley of the county and provincial cities, so everyone can see what kind of family the Zhou actually are. You raise pigs, right? Let’s see then… who would dare buy your pigs?”
Any prominent family had to maintain a reputation. Though the Zhou ruled Qingtian Village, in the county and provincial cities, they were nothing but small fry. One mountain is higher than another; there are always taller mountains beyond. If their pigs were to sell well, they still had to beg and bribe.
Ye Ning was right. Under the Great Liang law, trafficking citizens was illegal and punishable by imprisonment or, in severe cases, exile. If the case became widely known, it would bring the Zhou family nothing but trouble.
The bodyguards nodded fearfully. A delicate Ger executing such ruthless measures was something ordinary men could not match.
Ye Ning scanned the five guards lightly and said, “Not leaving? Staying for some noodles?”
“Going! Going!” The bodyguards felt as if they had been granted amnesty, springing up from the ground. They had never run this fast in their lives, tails tucked between their legs, fleeing in utter humiliation without daring to look back.
Clang! Ye Ning tossed the broken chair leg to the ground, startling Zhang Zhiyuan so much that he almost dropped his brush.
“Ye Ning…” Zhang Zhiyuan could hardly believe it. Rubbing his eyes, he hesitated, “You… you’re alright, right? Did you get hurt?”
Seeing him dusty, sweating, and with a reddened forehead from banging into the door frame, Ye Ning realized his cousin was indeed a bit naïve and old-fashioned, but warm-hearted and sincere.
Ye Ning shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
Zhang Zhiyuan exhaled deeply in relief. At that moment, Jiang’s chief attendant finally smiled. “Zhang Sanlang came rushing back to help, stumbling along the way, yet Ning Ger turned out to be such a fierce one.”
When speaking of Gers, people often used terms like “delicate,” “good for breeding,” “fragile,” and the like. No one had ever praised a Ger as “fierce.”
Zhang Zhiyuan slapped his forehead, suddenly remembering Jiang family’s young master. He had dragged Jiang Changxin along to help, and now the young master had been left waiting. He hurriedly said, “Ye Ning, this is Jiang family’s young master. I’m currently working on business with the Jiang family, and he is my master… Honestly, when those Zhou bodyguards arrived, I lost my head, and just happened to meet Young Master Jiang, so I invited him to come help.”
From beginning to end, Young Master Jiang had remained in the sedan. The thick silk curtains hung motionless; there was no breeze, nothing stirred, completely concealing the interior.
Ye Ning looked at the sedan. He couldn’t tell the young master’s height, build, or appearance, but he knew one thing:
—Inside that sedan sat the protagonist of this book, Jiang Changxin.
Ye Ning had come from the post-apocalyptic world into this book. In his mind, he knew the book’s general content. Ye Ning was not the main character; he was merely a minor supporting passerby. Jiang Changxin, however, was the central figure, the one surrounded by a halo of influence.
Jiang Changxin was not the Jiang family’s biological son. He had been brought by the Jiang patriarch from the former Prime Minister’s household. Roughly twenty years ago, when the eunuch faction rebelled and ten eunuchs seized power, the emperor, stripped of authority, became a puppet. To keep him obedient, the eunuchs killed all the princes.
The young imperial prince, Liang Ce, had only just been born, and the eunuchs naturally would not spare even an infant in swaddling clothes. The former Prime Minister had become a thorn in the eunuchs’ side. He risked everything to send the young prince out of the palace, entrusting him to a friend who had retired from office and returned to his hometown—the old master of the Jiang family.
The Jiang patriarch escorted the young prince to the secluded, almost idyllic Qingtian Village. Not long after, he heard of the Prime Minister’s gruesome death. Worse still, the prince’s maternal family had been slaughtered by the eunuchs, leaving the entire court under their oppressive control.
To protect the sole surviving bloodline of the imperial family, the Jiang patriarch kept the child close. Many years passed this way. When the young prince had fled the capital, he was still an infant and had suffered a severe head injury. Barely clinging to life, he had been kept alive by the Jiang patriarch’s use of precious medicinal herbs. But to everyone’s surprise, he grew up to become… a fool.
Jiang Changxin grew up in a daze, almost as if he understood nothing, and many explanations simply could not reach him. Meanwhile, the eunuchs grew increasingly arrogant over the years, and the court showed no improvement. To secure their position, the eunuchs scoured the land for the exiled prince. The Jiang patriarch dared not tell Jiang Changxin the truth, fearing it would put him in mortal danger.
The fact that Jiang Changxin was the only legitimate member of the imperial line was known solely to the Jiang patriarch. Not even the patriarch’s son, Jiang Changxin’s nominal father, was aware. Father Jiang only knew that the patriarch had brought home a boy; with no objections from his mother, they raised him as their own flesh and blood.
Such a huge secret should have been known to only one person. Ye Ning was the exception. As an outsider who had transmigrated into this world, he could see everything clearly.
Ye Ning’s curiosity flickered briefly as he looked at the luxurious sedan. He wondered what the fool, described in the book as extraordinarily handsome and perfectly proportioned, actually looked like. But his curiosity was fleeting; whatever the prince’s appearance, it had nothing to do with him.
Out of courtesy, Ye Ning said, “Thank you, Young Master Jiang.”
Though Jiang Changxin hadn’t actively helped and had not even stepped out of the sedan, he had come to assist, and Ye Ning naturally offered his thanks.
Ye Ning glanced around and continued, “The noodle stall is simple, and I have nothing valuable to offer in return. If Young Master Jiang does not mind, once the stall is tidied, I will prepare a bowl of noodles as a token of thanks. How does that sound?”
For a prominent family, a bowl of noodles from Ye Ning was not worth their attention.
From within the sedan, a hand with well-defined knuckles reached out, pushing the curtain slightly with the back of the hand. The long attendant immediately leaned forward to lift the curtain. It seemed that Young Master Jiang intended to step out of the sedan.
At that moment…
A few well-dressed servants ran over in a hurry, bowing respectfully. “Greetings, Young Master! Ah, we’ve finally found you! The patriarch has been anxiously waiting for your return. Not knowing what happened, he grew frantic, searching desperately for you!”
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