The Secret

He did not linger, turning to walk toward the inner city.

The coachman had gone to fetch help, and walking back himself would not take long; it was a perfect opportunity to meet up with Uncle Zheng ahead of time.

Behind him, the refugees stared blankly at his retreating figure. His words had not been loud, but some had still heard them.

It took quite a while for anyone to snap out of their daze.

"J-just now, what that young master said, was it true?"

"Setting up a porridge stall, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, we'll have food to eat?"

Some began to grow agitated, but not knowing how to express their gratitude, they simply knelt down.

They kowtowed in the direction Feng Xiu had departed, one after another, until a whole crowd was soon kneeling on the ground.

Feng Xiu did not look back.

The commotion behind him was significant, but turning around now would only make him seem hypocritical.

Not long after, Uncle Zheng arrived in a hurry, accompanied by a group of grain shop managers.

They happened to run into Feng Xiu at a tavern behind the grey walls of the inner city, with the refugees still faintly visible in the distance.

"Young Master." Uncle Zheng stepped forward quickly, glanced at the refugees kneeling in the distance, and hesitated.

He had wanted to say something like "benevolence does not command troops, and righteousness does not manage wealth" to persuade Feng Xiu not to be too soft-hearted.

In this world, there were too many pitiful people; even the Feng Clan could not save them all.

But as the words reached his lips, he looked at Feng Xiu's calm face and swallowed them back down.

What was it that the Young Master did not understand?

Yet, he had chosen to do this anyway.

Uncle Zheng sighed inwardly and kept his mouth shut.

"Uncle Zheng, you've come at the right time. Arrange for the necessary grain to be drawn directly from the shops; do not use the public accounts."

The grain shop managers behind him turned pale at these words.

Given the current state of grain prices, they had risen by more than thirty percent!

Opening a porridge stall to provide relief to refugees at a time like this was no different from throwing money into the water.

But seeing that even Master Zheng did not object, they exchanged glances and eventually gritted their teeth to agree.

"Understood, we will strictly follow the Young Master's instructions."

Uncle Zheng glanced at them and added, "Also, are there any vacant positions in the shops?

Even if it's for moving cargo or sweeping floors, take a tally. Giving those who can work a meal is better than giving it away for free."

The managers nodded, noted it down, and dispersed.

Feng Xiu looked at Uncle Zheng and nodded without a word.

He was a veteran of the family, after all; his way of doing things was thorough and thoughtful.

Soon after, a manager with a cold expression went to the refugees to select people and announce the news.

On faces that had been numb and unresponsive, a glimmer of emotion began to return.

They wept and laughed.

"We... we can survive?"

"Young Master Feng said he's setting up a porridge stall; we'll have porridge every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday."

"A good man, truly a good man!"

The crowd gradually regained its vitality, no longer as deathly silent as before.

On the side street, the thin girl with straw in her hair remained dazed, while the woman beside her wept with joy, clutching the girl tightly.

After the joy subsided, the woman began to think back.

Someone had seemed to nudge her daughter earlier; otherwise, this stroke of luck would not have happened.

Coming to her senses, she looked toward the crowd, but could find no trace of anyone.

"Huanhuan, we'll have food to eat from now on," the woman said happily, not dwelling on it further.

"Yay! Huanhuan wants to eat candied haws!" The girl smiled, the corners of her mouth curling up.

At that moment, on the edge of the crowd.

Two figures, who had been hiding from the woman's search, stood up stealthily.

The old man was thin and aged, but unlike the other refugees, his clothes, though old, were free of mud and grime.

His eyes were somewhat bright, not at all like someone who had been starving for long.

Beside the old man stood a little girl with two braids, a thin rope around her neck, and a strange black bucket hat strapped to her back.

"Grandpa, Grandpa, see? I knew Brother Feng was a good person!"

The girl stood on tiptoe, watching the direction of Feng Xiu's carriage, and tugged on the old man's sleeve with a giggle.

The old man lowered his head to glance at her, saying nothing.

But the girl was not afraid of him, continuing to tug at his sleeve. "Grandpa, look, those people are all kneeling and kowtowing. Brother Feng is truly amazing; a single word from him and everyone has food to eat!"

The old man sighed softly, his gaze fixed on the carriage as it continued to pull away.

"It seems this old man underestimated him."

"I had assumed he would simply let them crash into him, and that this wealthy young master holding the Sweet Dew Grand Festival was merely a ploy to fish for fame and use the momentum to pressure the palace."

"I never expected that he truly held these commoners in his heart."

As the old man spoke, a complex expression flickered within his cloudy, aged eyes.

The girl finished listening, blinked her eyes, and tilted her head to look at him. "So that's why you want to help him, Grandpa."

The old man immediately glared at his granddaughter in annoyance. "Help him? Help him with what? Do you think the rain from the Sweet Dew Grand Festival fell for free? That White Fox Envoy was hiding beneath the Tang Reservoir and wouldn't even yield the water, causing me to lose a portion of my cultivation."

He paused, then looked at the girl with lingering dissatisfaction. "And another thing, stop calling him 'Brother Feng' every other breath. Why must you be so affectionate?"

A defiant smile immediately bloomed on the girl's delicate face as she placed her hands on her hips and let out a dainty huff.

"I don't care, I'm going to call him that! Brother Feng, Brother Xiu, Brother Feng—hmph!"

"You..." The old man was left speechless, choked by her retort.

The girl looked even more pleased with herself, standing on her tiptoes and swaying her head. "Grandpa, you were just praising him a moment ago, so why won't you let me call him that? Besides, Brother Feng is handsome and kind-hearted, so what's wrong with calling him brother!"

The corner of the old man's mouth twitched, and in the end, he could only sigh helplessly. "Fine, fine, suit yourself."

Only then did the girl satisfiedly drop her hands from her hips and tug at his sleeve again. "So, Grandpa, you still haven't answered me—are you going to help him or not?"

The old man remained silent for a while, his gaze fixed on the street corner where the carriage had already vanished. After a long time, he spoke slowly.

"Regarding that rain, since they refused to lend the water, I sacrificed ten years of my cultivation lifespan. I might even die soon. Do you really think that Black Abyss Monster beneath the Tang Reservoir is so easy to deal with?"

"Since they aren't even bothered by it, why should I help him? Am I looking for death?"

The smile on the girl's delicate face stiffened.

"Ah?" She widened her eyes. "What exactly is in the Tang Reservoir? Will Brother Feng be in danger?"

The old man was stunned, then laughed in exasperation. You little girl, did you really not hear what I was saying?

Although the situation wasn't as exaggerated as losing my lifespan, my cultivation was indeed damaged.

I just told you I was as good as dead, yet you're worried about the safety of a stranger?

How exhausting.

"Danger? Naturally, there is." The old man sighed.

His voice dropped slightly. "As for that thing, it is an alien from the previous dynasty—the final White Fox Envoy."

The girl was stunned.

Although she was young, she knew what the previous dynasty meant.

That was a matter of the Great Yuan Dynasty, several hundred years ago.

"Gr-Grandpa." Her voice trembled slightly as she grabbed the old man's sleeve. "Has that thing been alive for hundreds of years?"

The old man did not answer.

He simply reached out to pat the top of the girl's head and said softly, "Let's go. We still have things to do."