Becoming Village Chief Overnight

Becoming Village Chief Overnight

On closer inspection, both Zi Jian and Little Stone had grown far more haggard. His father especially looked worn down, his eyes sunken deep into their sockets.

"Bofeng is awake?" An aged voice came from the outer room. Old Scholar strode in and looked down at Zi Bofeng.

"Teacher." Zi Bofeng hurriedly clasped his hands in salute. His respect for this old man had been carved into the bones of "that Zi Bofeng," while "this Zi Bofeng" mostly feared his ruler, terrified that another smack might knock yet another memory loose.

"Good, good! What a pity, what a pity!" Looking at Zi Bofeng, Old Scholar nodded first, then shook his head, leaving Zi Bofeng thoroughly bewildered.

"One essay has set the realm abuzz. Bofeng, your name has already spread." Old Scholar looked at Zi Bofeng with great satisfaction. In the past, he had thought this disciple incapable of adapting, but who would have expected such a splendid essay? Its conception was novel yet watertight, its analysis of the present situation precise down to every thread and buckle. It was truly an essay fit for the top graduate.

"You slept through so many days that all the good posts were snatched away." This Prefectural Examination was not only for earning the title of Xiucai, but also for selecting officials. Less than three days after the examination ended, the results had been posted. Zi Bofeng stood proudly at the very top of the list and had originally been slated to become the Prefect's clerk. But he had remained unconscious for too long, and after others worked their schemes several times over, all the good official posts had been taken.

That was the pity Old Scholar spoke of.

"Still, with talent like yours, you will never be buried no matter when or where. This posting may be somewhat austere, but it is peaceful and leisurely—just right for you to continue your studies. Prepare a little, then sit the metropolitan examination and the palace examination. That need not remain a distant dream."

Only then did Zi Bofeng learn that he, the top-ranked candidate of the Prefectural Examination, had somehow become a Village Chief.

This Village Chief was the chief of an entire village.

Four households made a neighbor group, five neighbor groups made a bao, five bao made a li, and five li made a township; one natural settlement formed one village. Cities had no villages and instead established wards. Ward chiefs and Village Chiefs were of equal rank, both tiny sesame-seed officials without even the slightest grade.

Moreover, though Village Chiefs were appointed by the Prefect, every village had Clan Elders who held the real power. These so-called Village Chiefs were little different from village officials assigned after university graduation—without the slightest bit of authority.

In truth, although Village Chiefs had previously been appointed by the Prefect, he usually just went with the flow and let the village choose someone itself, then issued a seal as formal recognition. Many villages did not even have Village Chiefs at all, leaving matters to the Clan Elders.

But lately, the people's lives had grown ever more difficult, and unrest had flared endlessly across the land. Though it had all been suppressed, it still gave the Prefect no end of headaches. That was why he had assigned some Village Chiefs. Even if they served no real purpose, they could at least send word in critical moments.

After waking, Zi Bofeng went to Mengcheng Prefecture. The Prefect's new clerk received him and brought out a register for him to choose from.

This clerk was none other than Slanted-Eye, the man who had once cozied up to him before drugging his tea.

He had genuine talent as well. Aside from Zi Bofeng, he had earned the highest score. With Zi Bofeng unconscious, he had seized the opportunity and filled Zi Bofeng's vacant post as the Prefect's clerk. From that point of view, his drug had not been wasted at all—it had been a perfectly proper stroke of timing, means, and calculation.

A clerk was not a recorder and did not handle military posts; nor was he a Chief Clerk, with no official grade. In function, he was more like the Prefect's personal secretary. His position might not be high, but his power was substantial. It was an exceedingly valuable post, and if he won the Prefect's trust, his future achievements would be beyond measure.

Compared to the position of Village Chief, this clerkship was in an entirely different league.

Seeing his old rival, who had always crushed him by a head, being toyed with by one little trick and reduced to a pitiful Village Chief, the clerk could not have been happier.

"How about going to your own village and serving as Village Chief?" The clerk pointed at the register. "At least you can call it returning home in glory."

He was slapping Zi Bofeng in the face. The grand top scorer of the Prefectural Examination had ended up as nothing but a Village Chief—would he not be laughed at when he returned home?

Yet Zi Bofeng merely nodded. "Then that is where I'll go."

Slanted-Eye froze. The one being slapped in the face was being far too cooperative. Could it be that Zi Bofeng believed he had no future left and was therefore keeping a low profile before him?

What he did not know was that Zi Bofeng was filled with anticipation.

Zi Bofeng felt he probably was not suited to work like a clerk's, waiting on others. In any case, both were ungraded postings. Being a clerk or a Village Chief made little difference. This was only the Prefectural Examination, and these minor official posts were merely little prizes attached to it. If he truly wanted to become an official, he could simply keep taking examinations.

After Old Scholar had called his work "one essay to set the realm," Zi Bofeng's confidence was sky-high.

The road ahead was long. Who could say what the future would bring?

Slanted-Eye had meant to slap him in the face, yet instead found himself somewhat depressed. Watching Zi Bofeng hum a little tune and swagger out with an Eight Immortals Step, resentment quietly rose in his heart once more.

He was the sort who could not bear to see others doing well. Since he had failed to make Zi Bofeng unhappy, he himself was bound to be unhappy.

Just wait. There would be bitter fruit for Zi Bofeng to eat someday!

At the Prefect's side, he would find little amusements for Zi Bofeng every now and then. He would see whether Zi Bofeng begged for mercy!

Zi Bofeng took the clerk's official document, exchanged it for an official seal, then left his personal seal at the prefectural office. Only then was he formally appointed Village Chief.

Zi Bofeng had not expected that even a tiny Village Chief like him would have an official seal. Holding it, he wandered around the prefectural office.

In those novels, county magistrates and city governors always had one or two beautiful daughters, precious pearls held in their palms. Raised deep in their boudoirs, ignorant of the people's hardships, they spent every day dreaming that some dashing scholar would marry them—and incidentally cheat their fathers out of something.

If he could find one of those prefect's daughters who specialized in cheating her own father, would that not save him ten years of struggle?

The key was not saving ten years of struggle. The key was that Zi Bofeng had long yearned for this sort of tale of talented scholars and beautiful ladies.

Zi Bofeng had thought it through carefully. In this world, as long as a man had ability, he could marry as many wives as he wanted...

Who would have thought that he would nearly swagger out of the prefectural office without seeing a single beautiful young girl? He only saw a little girl round as a small fat ball, her hair tied into two horn-shaped braids, sobbing bitterly beside a pond while clutching a wooden doll.

A girl in green stood beside her, softly trying to comfort her, but nothing she said worked.

"What happened?" Zi Bofeng asked. Seeing an unfamiliar young scholar, the girl in green assumed he was a newly arrived official at the prefectural office and paid him little mind. Frowning, she said, "It's Cousin Miss's wooden doll..."

Zi Bofeng looked over. In the hands of this so-called Cousin Miss was a brightly colored carved wooden doll. But it had been smashed into two pieces, broken clean across the waist, and the fractured edges were jagged and uneven. It could not be glued back together even if one tried.

"Cousin Miss, don't cry. We can just glue it back together." The girl in green coaxed her from the side, but Zi Bofeng shook his head. "That will be difficult. This wooden doll cannot be glued back together. Better buy a new one."

Since she was Cousin Miss, she naturally would not lack money for something like this.

Who would have thought that Cousin Miss only cried louder?

The girl in green shot Zi Bofeng an annoyed glare. "This wooden doll was specially carved for Cousin Miss by a master craftsman. Its eyes and features are all modeled after Cousin Miss. Where are we supposed to find another exactly like it?"

Zi Bofeng picked up the broken wooden doll and examined it. Cousin Miss looked over through tear-blurred eyes. Though a little chubby, she was an adorable little girl, with big eyes, a high nose bridge, and a tiny mouth. Who knew how many delicious things she had been fed?

"Tell big brother, what is your name?" Looking at the little girl, Zi Bofeng immediately thought of Little Stone back home.

Mm, this little girl would be a fine match for Little Stone... Huh? What am I thinking?

The little girl said through her tears, "My name is Qiu'er."

Qiu'er. That was quite a nice name.

Zi Bofeng reached out and patted her head. "Don't worry. This is not difficult. Go find a piece of wood, and big brother will carve you a new one."

"Really?" Qiu'er stopped crying and looked at Zi Bofeng from beneath her blunt bangs. Zi Bofeng nodded. What was so difficult about that? Even though Little Stone feared him so much, Little Stone's toys were still ten times better than this.

The Zi Family's inherited craft of bamboo, wood, and tile work was first-rate, whether bamboo weaving or wood carving. They had relied on that craft for food while fleeing disaster and after settling down. Neither carved wooden figures nor clay dolls posed any challenge to Zi Bofeng.

The little girl turned and ran off, with the girl in green chasing after her. Before long, the little girl came running back with a chunk of wood like a tree root in her arms and shoved it into Zi Bofeng's hands.

Zi Bofeng glanced around, then pointed at a guard standing in the corner. "Go borrow a dagger for me."

The girl in green hurried off and soon returned with a dagger.

Zi Bofeng weighed it in his hand and held it between three fingers. It was not as handy as a carving knife, but there were no useful tools here. The dagger flickered as he carved away, and before long, a rough shape had emerged. Then he had Qiu'er sit still and carefully refined the carving with the dagger. Soon, a lively little girl, round as a fat ball, appeared in his hand.

This can count as the betrothal gift I'm giving Little Stone. Zi Bofeng chuckled to himself and handed it to Qiu'er.

Qiu'er held it in her hands and examined it from side to side. Though it was unpainted and retained only the natural color of the wood, the carving was lifelike, its brows and features vivid as if real. The girl in green smiled. "Young master, you have fine craftsmanship."

"Not at all. It is merely how I earn my meals." Zi Bofeng saw that half the wooden root remained, so he picked it up and began carving again.

Zi Bofeng knew the little mud monkey from home better than anyone. A big head, a thin neck, skinny arms and legs, always grinning wide; his head was shaved blue-green like a little monk's. His large eyes rolled about endlessly, turning quicker than anyone could imagine. In the blink of an eye, a lively Little Stone appeared in his hand.

Record of Raising Monsters