The Secret

He didn't stay any longer. Turning around, he headed toward the inner city.

The coachman was going to fetch someone anyway, and walking back himself wouldn't take long. It would also give him a chance to meet Uncle Zheng beforehand.

Behind him, the refugees stared blankly at his retreating figure. His voice hadn't been loud, but some of them had still heard what he said.

It took a long while for anyone to come back to their senses.

"Th-that young master just now—was what he said true?"

"He's setting up a porridge stall? We'll have food every first, third, and fifth day?"

Some of them grew visibly excited, but they didn't know how to thank him, so they simply fell to their knees.

They kowtowed in the direction Feng Xiu had gone, one after another, until soon a whole swath of people were kneeling.

Feng Xiu didn't look back.

The commotion behind him was quite loud, but turning around now would only make him seem insincere.

Before long, Uncle Zheng hurried over with a group of grain shop managers.

They met Feng Xiu at a tavern behind the inner city's gray walls. A crowd of refugees could just barely be seen behind them.

"Eldest Young Master." Uncle Zheng hurried forward and glanced back at the refugees, who were faintly visible, kneeling in a mass. He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something.

He had meant to tell Feng Xiu something like, "Kindness cannot command an army, and righteousness cannot manage wealth," to persuade him not to be so softhearted.

There were plenty of unfortunate people in this world. No matter how powerful the Feng Clan was, it couldn't provide relief for them all.

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

What didn't the eldest young master understand?

And yet he had still chosen to do this.

Uncle Zheng sighed inwardly and said nothing more.

"Uncle Zheng, you're just in time. Arrange for the grain we need to be taken directly from the grain shops. Don't put it on the public accounts."

The grain shop managers behind him all looked troubled when they heard this.

Grain prices had gone up by more than thirty percent!

Setting up a porridge stall to aid refugees now was like throwing money into the water.

But when they saw that even Master Zheng wasn't objecting, they exchanged glances, then gritted their teeth and accepted the order.

"Yes. We'll follow the eldest young master's instructions."

Uncle Zheng glanced at them, then added, "Also, do any of the shops have vacant positions? Even if it's hauling goods or sweeping floors, make a list. Those who can work should be given a meal. That's better than simply giving food away."

The managers nodded and made a note of it, then went their separate ways.

Feng Xiu glanced at Uncle Zheng without speaking, then nodded.

As one of the family's old hands, Uncle Zheng was thorough and considerate.

Right after that, one of the managers set off with a cold expression to pick out people from among the refugees and give them the news.

The blank faces of those who hadn't yet come to their senses gradually began to show signs of life.

Some wept and laughed at the same time.

"We—we'll be able to stay alive?"

"Young Master Feng said he's setting up a porridge stall. There'll be porridge every first, third, and fifth day."

"What a good man. He really is a good man!"

The crowd gradually came to life, no longer as lifeless as before.

On the side street, the skinny girl with straw on her head wore a dazed expression. Beside her, the woman was weeping with joy, clutching the girl and refusing to let go.

Once her joy had passed, the woman gradually remembered.

Someone had seemed to shove her daughter just now. Otherwise, this good fortune wouldn't have come to them.

She came to her senses and looked around the crowd again, but couldn't find anyone.

"Huanhuan, we'll have food from now on." The woman gave it no further thought and spoke happily.

"Yay! Huanhuan wants candied hawthorn!" The girl's lips curled into a smile.

At the edge of the crowd,

two figures who had been hiding from the woman's probing gaze secretly stood up.

The old man was thin and gaunt, his face lined with age. Unlike the other refugees, though his clothes were worn, they weren't quite as caked in mud and grime.

His eyes were somewhat bright, and he didn't look at all like someone who had gone hungry for a long time.

A little girl stood beside him, her hair tied into two buns. A thin cord was looped around her neck, and she carried a strange black hooded hat on her back.

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

Standing on tiptoe, the girl gazed in the direction Feng Xiu's carriage had gone and tugged at the old man's sleeve with a grin.

The old man looked down at her but said nothing.

But the girl wasn't afraid of him. She kept tugging at his sleeve. "Grandpa, look! They're all kneeling and kowtowing. Feng Clan Big Brother is amazing. He said one thing and now everyone has food!"

The old man let out a soft sigh, his eyes fixed on the carriage as it continued to recede.

"Grandpa underestimated him."

"I thought he'd have someone run into them. This wealthy young master's Sweet Dew Grand Festival was nothing but a way to win fame and force the palace's hand by riding the momentum."

"I didn't expect him to truly care about these people."

As the old man spoke, a complicated glimmer passed through his cloudy eyes.

The girl blinked at him, then tilted her head. "So that's why you're helping him."

The old man immediately glared at his granddaughter in annoyance. "Helping him? Helping him with what? Do you think that rain during the Sweet Dew Grand Festival came for free? The White Fox Envoy was hiding beneath Tang Reservoir and wouldn't even give up any water. It cost me some of my cultivation too."

He paused, then shot the girl a slightly displeased look. "And stop calling him Feng Clan Big Brother every other breath. Why are you so familiar with him?"

A defiant smile immediately spread across the girl's delicate little face. She planted her hands on her hips and gave a haughty little snort.

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

"You..." The old man was at a loss for words.

The girl grew even more smug. She rocked on her tiptoes, bobbing her head. "Grandpa, you just praised him! Why won't you let me call him that? Besides, Feng Clan Big Brother is handsome and kind. What's wrong with calling him Big Brother?"

The old man's lips twitched. In the end, he could only sigh helplessly. "All right, all right. Do as you like."

Only then did the girl lower her hands, satisfied. She tugged at his sleeve again. "Then you still haven't told me. Are you going to help him or not?"

The old man fell silent for a while. The carriage had already vanished around the street corner. Only after a long time did he slowly speak.

"People wouldn't lend us water for that rain. I spent ten years of my lifespan and cultivation on it, and I might die any day now. Do you really think that Black Abyss Monster beneath Tang Reservoir was easy to deal with?"

"They don't hold it against me. Why should I help them? So I can get myself killed?"

The smile on the girl's delicate little face stiffened.

"Huh?" Her eyes widened. "What's in Tang Reservoir? Will Feng Clan Big Brother be in danger?"

The old man froze, then burst out laughing in exasperation. You little rascal, did you really not hear what I was saying?

The truth wasn't quite as bad as losing years off his life, but his cultivation had taken a hit.

I said I was as good as dead, and you're worried about whether a stranger is in danger?

Exhausting...

"Of course there's danger." The old man sighed.

His voice dipped slightly. "As for that thing, it's a remnant of a foreign race from the previous dynasty—the last White Fox Envoy."

The girl was stunned.

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

That was the Great Yuan Dynasty, from several hundred years ago.

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

The old man didn't answer.

He simply reached over and patted the top of the girl's head. "Come on. We still have things to do."