Jade Belt Reservoir

The carriage came to a steady stop in front of the mansion's main gate.

Two heavy wooden doors, as tall as a person, had darkened to a deep black with age. A plain plaque hung above them, its iron-brush strokes spelling out "Feng Mansion."

After Feng Xiu got down, the coachman continued on toward the rear corridor.

Feng Xiu walked into the mansion. It had the typical layout of three successive courtyards. Before him lay a modest but neat and orderly courtyard paved with blue stone. A few clusters of drought-resistant pines and cypresses grew along the walls on either side.

The estate was hardly grand or luxurious, yet everywhere it bore the calm assurance of a foundation steadily strengthened through two or three generations of careful stewardship.

As Feng Xiu walked, a faint, fresh scent of grass and trees was broken by a slight but swift gust of wind. Three patrol martial masters passed him in formation.

They were exceptionally burly, all bulging muscle, yet their steps fell so lightly they made no sound. The burly leader nodded to Feng Xiu. Feng Xiu gave a slight nod in return and continued on.

"Young Master."

Several young men in servant uniforms approached. Their expressions were respectful.

Feng Xiu didn't even raise his eyes. "Where's my father?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Feng Xiu knew he'd misspoken and corrected himself. "Has the family head returned?"

The Feng Clan wasn't among Green Rock City's wealthiest families, but it had no shortage of the feudal, old-fashioned rules that prevailed both openly and behind closed doors.

You'd think they were one of the Five Great Clans or Seven Noble Houses.

As the family's eldest legitimate son, Feng Xiu's role was completely at odds with the ordinary mindset he'd had in his previous life. Even after two months, playing the part was still quite difficult.

"Reporting to you, Young Master, the family head hasn't returned yet. But Chief Escort Zhou arrived early and is in the West Courtyard," the guard replied.

Feng Xiu breathed a sigh of relief, then nodded.

Truth be told, he was a little wary of his father. Feng Ao's oppressive presence in the original owner's memories had been far too strong.

He was the very image of a strict patriarch who believed sparing the rod spoiled the child—the sternest kind of father in a feudal family.

And on top of that, he was a martial artist.

"All right. I'll go see him." The thought flashed through Feng Xiu's mind.

The Feng Clan's main businesses were pawnshops, restaurants, stores, and grain. They'd never been involved in the martial arts trade.

But in recent days, Uncle Zhou had been coming over far too often.

The young guard acknowledged him and withdrew.

West Courtyard.

When Feng Xiu arrived, he looked up to see a group of around twenty men beneath the scorching summer sun. They wore short, rough shirts that left their arms bare.

In the courtyard, they were honing their fists and footwork beside stone weights and wooden posts.

The men were spread out from one another, each punch and kick slicing through the air with a sharp whoosh. They let out hearty shouts as they trained.

The wavering heat overhead mingled with the stench of sweat hanging in the air.

The vapor rising from their bodies, the heavy thuds of their fists striking wooden dummies, and the oppressive force of their bulging muscles all crashed over Feng Xiu at once.

His heart stirred. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out from the cool shade of the corridor.

"Wen Zheng, you're here."

The man instructing the escorts was a burly martial artist with a swallow's chin and tiger's head. His knuckles were thick and carried a faint metallic blue sheen, clearly a sign that his external training had reached a certain level.

Seeing Feng Xiu approach, Zhou Gang greeted him with a faint smile.

"Uncle Zhou."

Feng Xiu wasn't exactly a stranger to him. He was the "your Uncle Zhou from the Zhou Family" who'd lived in Feng Ao's words.

When Feng Xiu had first taken over the family's affairs, he'd also sought Zhou Gang out specifically for advice on dealing with tenant farmers.

That was how Zhou Gang had introduced Master Black to step in on Feng Xiu's behalf and pacify White Willow Village.

"Have you taken care of everything?" Zhou Gang asked.

"More or less."

Feng Xiu thought it over before replying. Just thinking about it gave him a headache.

He'd settled things for now, but he'd still have to step in again later.

This really wasn't something he could handle alone.

Suppressing the thought, Feng Xiu looked at the men training bare-chested under the blazing sun and asked curiously, "Uncle Zhou, are you all practicing martial arts?"

Feng Xiu could barely stand there for a moment. The sunlight was as fierce as a knife.

At this rate, their skin would turn bright red. Weren't they afraid of heatstroke?

"Mm. I'm having them warm up. Under this blazing sun, it's the perfect time to subdue the fire in their hearts and sense their qi and blood surging," Zhou Gang said with a faint smile. He picked up a cup of plain tea from the stone table and took a small sip.

Feng Xiu's gaze fell on a young escort striking a wooden dummy. The man threw a punch, and the bowl-thick wooden post shuddered.

Four dents from his knuckles had appeared on its surface.

"Uncle Zhou, what kind of wood is this post made of?" Feng Xiu asked, eyes widening slightly.

"Jujube wood." Zhou Gang glanced over and smiled. "It's been dried in the shade for three years and soaked in oil three times. Hard as can be."

Feng Xiu had a general idea of how hard jujube wood was. It was denser than most other woods and more resistant to burning.

Forget leaving a fist mark. If an ordinary person threw a full-strength punch, the only thing that'd hurt was their own hand.

"Then, Uncle Zhou, do you think I'm suited to martial arts?"

Feng Xiu looked at Zhou Gang, his face showing a hint of eagerness.

It was a bit frustrating. After two months of learning and growing, Feng Xiu had taken over most of the family's affairs.

But he still knew very little about the martial arts of this world.

The Feng Clan was at a crucial point in its rise, and Feng Xiu was the heir apparent.

The farm, business, and managing people were what filled his days.

"You?"

Zhou Gang looked Feng Xiu over, lingering on his slender, pale fingers and handsome face for a little longer.

Only then did the scrutiny gradually fade from his eyes. He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Feng Xiu hadn't been coddled. He might have been capable in other matters, but whether he had what it took to train in martial arts would depend on how he performed.

"Your brother Feng did say I should take you in hand and help temper your character. If you're serious, come by another day and let me see how much grit you have."

Zhou Gang fell silent for a moment.

"Thank you, Uncle Zhou!"

Feng Xiu's face lit up with delight, and then he added,

Zhou Gang was no weakling. Feng Xiu didn't know what level he'd reached, but he'd led the Zhou Family Escort Team across the country for over twenty years.

He surely had some real skills. The thought flashed through Feng Xiu's mind, and he was about to say, "Why wait? Let's start now."

But a respectful voice sounded behind him.

"Young Master, the family head has just returned. He'd like you to come over; he has something to ask you," the young guard reported.

"Father's back?" Feng Xiu's heart gave a thump.

"Yes. Chief Escort Zhou is to come as well. The family head is waiting in the main hall," he replied.

Hearing that he had something important to ask, Feng Xiu's expression turned rueful.

Seeing him like this, Zhou Gang laughed heartily, finding him rather amusing.

He patted Feng Xiu on the shoulder in a gesture of encouragement, then followed the guard toward the main hall.

"All right. Wait here a moment."

What was coming couldn't be avoided. Feng Xiu sighed inwardly.

Then he hurried to his bedroom and took a thin sheet of rice paper covered in neat, tiny writing from the stack of Chronicles of Hundred Theories on his desk.

[Outcome of the tenant farmers' unrest in Dendrobium Village, reprimanded]

[Handled the armed clash in Hundred Dou Village, given a little praise]

[When dealing with maids and guards, act haughty; don't hand out rewards carelessly]

[White Willow Village, undecided; when reporting the specifics, emphasize personal initiative]

[Drop familiar forms of address like "Dad"; use titles while working]

[Where did all these damn rules come from—crossed out—]

The paper was filled with incoherent notes only he could understand. After quickly scanning them and committing them to memory, Feng Xiu returned it to its place.

Then he headed to the reception room in the main hall.

The reception room's door was shut tight.

Feng Xiu was about to raise his hand, but quickly straightened his clothes and posture instead. Only after making sure nothing was amiss did he knock.

"Come in," a deep, steady voice called.

In the center of the reception room, a middle-aged man with a graying beard and brocade robes sat in a purple sandalwood chair on the left.

"Family head." Feng Xiu stepped forward steadily and bowed slightly, then turned to Zhou Gang.

"Uncle Zhou."

Zhou Gang gave a slight nod.

"Wen Zheng, have you made any progress on the matter in White Willow Village?"

Feng Ao had an extraordinary air about him. In his forties, he was at the peak of a man's life. His brocade clothes were immaculate, and the ring on his finger and ornaments at his waist were all exquisitely chosen.

His eyes swept over Feng Xiu. Then he lifted his teacup and brushed the tea leaves aside with its lid.

Beside him, Zhou Gang watched with interest, curious to see how this examination would unfold.

"Reporting to you, Father, the people of White Willow Village aren't simply troublemaking rabble."

Feng Xiu had arrived at just the right time after crossing over. Two months ago was when Feng Ao had begun handing over some of the family's authority.

As a result, Feng Ao needed to be consulted on every matter, big or small, that came up in the running of the family.

Feng Xiu bowed slightly and answered with his hands clasped.

Fortunately, he'd prepared his answer before coming. He was able to respond to Feng Ao's questioning with ease.

After Feng Xiu gave a straightforward account of what had happened, Feng Ao exchanged a look of mild surprise with Zhou Gang.

The latter met his gaze calmly.

That was right. Master Black was a man of the lower classes, at home in all manner of places in the underworld.

Zhou Gang must have been the one to introduce him.

Thinking it over, Feng Ao gave a slight nod. Not bad. He knew how to borrow help and leverage another's influence.

"So the rain-prayer was a stopgap you came up with?"

"Father, not quite. I've already sent Master Black to Yulin Prefecture to look for that old Daoist. If the rain-prayer fails in ten days, we can still open Tang Reservoir and channel water from the Jade Belt River to irrigate the farms."

Feng Xiu shook his head and explained.

The Great Liang Empire's southwestern regions.

The Cloud Ridge Plateau stood at a relatively high elevation, forming a unique landscape of river valleys and basins that were high overall but flat in parts.

As a result, the area around Green Rock City got little rain. The locals relied on the heavens for water, along with irrigation from tributaries of the Jade Belt River and the reservoir.

For now, opening the reservoir was the best solution Feng Xiu could think of.

Feng Ao had already flown into a rage over the private rent exemption in Dendrobium Village.

Faced with the same sort of situation again, Feng Xiu had acted quite cautiously.

Unexpectedly, the moment he said this, Feng Ao's expression shifted. The hand holding his teacup paused in midair before he set it down on the table with a soft clack.

"We'll discuss this later."

"As for the White Willow Farm, Chief Escort Zhou's team will be stationed in the city for a month. Go and find new tenants," Feng Ao said, his tone somewhat cold.

Feng Xiu was stunned, his eyes widening slightly.

An escort team, new tenants?!

He wasn't a fool. The implication was clear.

Feng Ao had accepted that the people of White Willow Village would cause trouble and wanted to use the escort team to suppress them!

Was things really so bad that they had to escalate to bloodshed and bring in new tenants?

As the thought crossed his mind, Feng Xiu sensed that something was off.

It was already midsummer, and the heat was unbearable. In this weather, even Hou Yi would've shaken his head.

The glaciers on the Jade Belt Mountains had melted long ago. The Feng Clan was a major grain merchant in Green Rock City, and one of the families that held a River Law Seal.

Opening the reservoir only required notifying the River Law Bureau.

In the end, all it took was paying them off and going through the motions.

Compared to the cost of a possible uprising and a failed harvest, that expense was practically nothing.

"Fa—Family head." Doubts churned in Feng Xiu's mind. He cautiously tested the waters.

"This year's drought is especially severe. White Willow Village has reached its limit. In past years, occasional showers have been enough to get by."

"If there's no water, they may lose the entire harvest. Do you think the River Law Bureau might be willing to make an exception?"

When he finished speaking, a brief silence fell over the room. The only sound was Feng Ao's knuckles tapping the armrest of the purple sandalwood chair, again and again.

Zhou Gang watched in silence, his eyes lowered.

"Make an exception?" Feng Ao's voice sank.

"How could I not want to? But rules are rules. They're harder than the soil in the fields."

Feng Ao's gaze was soul-piercing. His natural authority, together with the invisible pressure he had long since learned to conceal, made the air itself feel heavier.