I Didn't Expect Old Fang to Have Already Curried Favor with the Master

Once Chen Zhong left, the courtyard fell silent for a moment.

Hu Da poked half his body out from the kitchen doorway, his apron still dusted with flour.

He gazed in surprise at the backs of Fang Shuwen and his son as they walked toward the courtyard gate, unable to stop himself from clicking his tongue.

"Old Fang has been honest and dutiful all these years, keeping his head down and working hard, never fighting or scrambling for anything. I never expected the Master, all the way over in Shenghai, to still be thinking of him."

Old Fang had been working at the Zhao Estate for a long time.

He had started out as a coachman, only being moved to the gatehouse once he grew old.

Many of his contemporaries had long since been promoted.

But not Old Fang.

Hu Da had always felt that Old Fang's lack of ambition was a sign of weakness.

How could a man like that ever get ahead?

He hadn't expected that such a nature would actually catch the Master's eye.

People, it seems, still need to be dutiful.

If Little Fang could get into the Elite Class with that Parker Pen, he would truly have a bright future.

But then, a second thought crossed his mind, and he couldn't help but shake his head.

What kind of person was Little Fang? He had failed six out of seven subjects.

He was arrogant and conceited, looked down on others, and worst of all, had no drive to improve himself.

How could someone like that ever pass the examination!

It was just that Old Fang insisted on believing that Little Fang was capable and would surely amount to something one day.

The rest of them usually just humored Old Fang, not having the heart to burst his bubble.

Survival in these chaotic times is not easy; if a person loses their dreams and hope, they will completely collapse.

And for Old Fang, Little Fang was his entire hope.

Mother Wang was pulling Cuicui toward the covered walkway, but her ears remained pricked.

Hearing Hu Da's words, she paused in her tracks and couldn't help but curl her lip.

"Brother Hu, that's easy for you to say. It's true Old Fang is diligent, but who among us isn't? I've been washing and scrubbing in the Zhao Estate for all these years; the calluses on my hands are layers thick."

"The Master just doesn't know how hard my Cuicui works. She gets up before dawn to review her books and stays up late by the oil lamp doing problems until her eyes are nearly ruined. If the Master knew, he would surely have sent Cuicui a Parker Pen too."

As she spoke, she looked down at the Golden Star Fountain Pen in her hand.

She thought back to the pitch-black, gleaming Parker Pen in the velvet box earlier, and her heart felt even more sour.

Five silver dollars versus fifteen silver dollars—a difference of three times the value.

How could the Master give such an expensive fountain pen to that good-for-nothing Little Fang!

Who would have thought that Old Fang, quiet as he was, actually had such a connection with the Master!

"Cuicui, you're just suffering because your mother has no status."

Mother Wang sighed and reached out to stroke Cuicui's hair.

"Your mother is just a servant who washes clothes and cooks; I can't compare to the face Old Fang has before the Master. If you had been born to the Mistress, never mind a Parker Pen, even a gold one would be yours to use."

Cuicui blushed at her mother's words and tugged on Mother Wang's sleeve.

"Mother, why say such things? This Golden Star Fountain Pen is enough for me; I can still do well on the exam."

Mother Wang huffed, said nothing more, and pulled Cuicui away.

Hu Da watched Mother Wang's retreating figure.

He shook his head, turned around, and went back into the kitchen.

At the mouth of the alley, a carriage with blue curtains was already waiting.

The driver was Old Sun from the Zhao Estate. Seeing Fang Shuwen emerge, he smiled and flicked his whip cheerfully.

"Little Fang, Steward Chen gave orders. Since today is the entrance exam, he told me to take you to school."

Fang Shuwen did not decline. He thanked Old Sun and lifted his hem to climb into the carriage.

Old Fang stood at the alley entrance, watching until the carriage turned the corner.

Only then did he wipe the corners of his eyes and turn back toward the courtyard.

He had wanted to go along, but he felt a lingering fear in his heart.

He remembered what Little Fang had told him before—that his clothes were too ragged, and if he showed up, it would embarrass his son and make him look unpresentable.

Therefore, even if he wanted to go, he dared not.

The carriage wove through the streets and alleys of Xikou County Town, and after about half an hour, it arrived at the main gate of Xikou County Public Middle School.

Today was the day of the entrance assessment, and quite a few students had already gathered at the school gate.

Some wore school uniforms, while others were in casual clothes.

Some arrived on foot, others by rickshaw.

Occasionally, a few black automobiles would pull up to the side of the road; those belonged only to the truly wealthy and powerful families of Xikou.

Take, for instance, Guo Ziming, whom the original owner had once fawned over; his father was the vice president of the Xikou Chamber of Commerce.

The Guo Family was, furthermore, one of the top-tier merchant magnates in Xikou County Town.

Not to mention automobiles, the Guo Family even owned a textile mill.

Fang Shuwen jumped down from the carriage and cupped his hands in a salute to Old Sun.

"Uncle Sun, you go ahead. I'll head back on my own once the exam is over."

Old Sun acknowledged him with a grunt and drove the carriage away.

Fang Shuwen straightened the collar of his school uniform and was just about to walk into the school gate.

Right at that moment, Beep! Beep!

A harsh car horn blared from behind him.

Fang Shuwen turned to look and saw a four-wheeled black automobile turning the corner, its streamlined body gleaming and reflecting the morning light.

It was an imported Ford.

Fang Shuwen recognized it; this was the car belonging to Guo Ziming's family.

The car came to a steady stop at the school gate, and the front passenger door opened first, from which a lackey in a black short jacket hopped out.

He trotted around to the back seat, bent over, and pulled the door open.

As the door opened, a pair of polished black leather shoes stepped out first.

Then, Guo Ziming, dressed in a brand-new grey Paramount suit, stepped out of the car with a flashy air.

A gold pen was tucked into his breast pocket, the gold cap glinting so brightly in the sunlight that it made one's eyes ache.

Guo Ziming.

The person the original owner had fawned over for two years.

Guo Ziming stepped out of the car, swept his gaze across the crowd, and spotted Fang Shuwen standing at the school gate immediately.

The corners of his mouth curled up slightly as he raised his hand and tossed his leather satchel toward Fang Shuwen.

"Hold this."

The two words were light and airy, as if he were commanding his own servant.

Fang Shuwen didn't move.

The satchel flew past his side and hit the ground with a thud, kicking up a cloud of dust.

The smile on Guo Ziming's face froze.

He frowned, strode over to stand in front of Fang Shuwen, and looked him up and down with a condescending air.

"What's the meaning of this?"

His voice had turned cold.

Fang Shuwen looked at the face before him.

Guo Ziming wasn't bad-looking, with thick eyebrows, a high nose, and well-defined features.

Coupled with his exquisite attire, he did indeed stand out from the crowd like a crane among chickens.

But the look in those eyes was something Fang Shuwen knew all too well.

It was the look one gave a dog.

In the original owner's memories, Guo Ziming had never once treated him like a classmate.

Ordering him to run errands or buy things, and even kicking him a few times when he was in a bad mood, were common occurrences.

And the original owner?

Not only did he not feel humiliated, but he actually considered it a great honor to be able to suck up to Young Master Guo.

Fang Shuwen sighed inwardly.

That was the original owner, not him.

"Haven't seen you for a summer, and you've gone deaf?"

"And to think I had someone bring you fifty silver dollars for your medical expenses—you really don't know what's good for you!"

The ear-splitting voice of Guo Ziming drifted over once again.

Fang Shuwen couldn't help but rub his nose. What fifty silver dollars?

But after a moment's thought, he realized that money had likely ended up in the hands of Liu Mang.

No wonder.

However, this favor, which felt more like a blatant handout, had nothing to do with him.

After all, the original owner's injury was, when it came down to it, caused by Guo Ziming.

Besides, he hadn't received a cent.

"Classmate Guo."

"Take your own schoolbag. The exam is starting soon, I'm heading in!"

With that, Fang Shuwen turned and walked away without a hint of hesitation.

Several students nearby had already noticed the commotion and began whispering to one another.

"Isn't that Fang Shuwen? Wasn't he Guo Ziming's lackey before?"

"Yeah, how does he dare talk back to Young Master Guo today?"

"Tsk tsk, looks like there's a good show to watch."

Hearing these discussions, Guo Ziming's expression turned even uglier.

"Fang Shuwen!"

"You've really grown some guts!"

He reached out to take the schoolbag from his lackey, staring at Fang Shuwen's receding back with eyes so gloomy they seemed ready to drip water.

"Young Master, should I find a chance to teach him a lesson..."

The lackey beside him leaned in and asked in a low voice.

"No need."

Guo Ziming raised a hand to cut him off.

"This assessment determines whether we can continue our studies; unless this idiot doesn't want to stay in school, I'll just wait and see how he manages to remain here without my help!"

Having said that, he strode forward, walking toward the school gate at a leisurely pace.