Chapter 9: The Onset

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Fang Li hadn’t expected him to suddenly ask about Zhao Baozhu, and he stood there frozen for a moment. It wasn’t until Fang Qin gave him several subtle nods that he snapped back to attention and quickly replied to Ye Jinghua, who was frowning slightly, “Young Master, he’s working in the backyard.”

Ye Jinghua asked in response, “Is he recovered from his illness?”

Fang Li was momentarily stunned again, then realized Ye Jinghua was referring to the day Zhao Baozhu fainted. He said, “That day... he was probably just too tired. He hadn’t eaten or drunk anything for several days. But now he’s completely fine.”

Ye Jinghua nodded and fell silent for a moment, then as if stirred by a sudden impulse, said, “Have him come here.”

The remark startled everyone. Deng Yun, who had seen Zhao Baozhu that day, furrowed his brows and said, “Young Master, you just caught a chill. Why bother seeing that filthy—”

Before he could finish, Ye Jinghua cut him off with a cold glance. Deng Yun shut his mouth, lowered his head, and took a half step back, no longer daring to speak. Seeing this, Fang Qin quickly stepped forward to smooth things over. “Since a new person has been taken in, naturally the Young Master should see him. Fang Li, go and bring him here.”

Fang Li hurriedly nodded and turned to leave. Ye Jinghua withdrew his gaze and sat back at the table, taking a sip of tea. Fang Qin sighed softly in his heart and shot a sharp glance at Deng Yun, who was hanging his head. He thought to himself, what an unfortunate time to stir up trouble when the Young Master’s mood was already sour.

Neither spoke further; silence settled over the main room.

Fang Li was gone longer than expected. Ye Jinghua’s eyes were half-lidded, one hand resting on the table, his fingers gently tapping the surface. When a quarter of an hour had passed and Fang Li still had not returned, Fang Qin’s brows furrowed. Usually, his brother was quick and decisive—how could he be gone so long today? Deng Yun grew restless as well, frequently sending anxious glances toward Fang Qin.

Just as Fang Qin could no longer bear it and was about to go look for him himself, hurried footsteps sounded outside the room. In the next moment, Fang Li emerged from behind the curtain, sweat beading on his forehead. He first bowed to Ye Jinghua, then turned back and said, “Let him come in.”

Everyone watched as the curtain shifted and a pale hand reached out. Then a youth, dressed in a short black-and-white tunic, ducked into the room and raised his head to look inside.

Fang Qin’s eyes lit up as he took in the newcomer’s face, then he was taken aback. Deng Qing was even more shocked, leaping to his feet with a suppressed gasp.

What caught the eye first were the youth’s large, catlike eyes. As he lifted his head, his long, curled eyelashes fluttered against his lids with a soft ‘clap.’ His bright, sparkling pupils radiated intelligence, and the subtle curves of his brows and the corners of his eyes hinted at an alluring charm.

Ye Jinghua’s hand on the table stopped tapping without anyone noticing. For a brief moment, no one in the main room spoke.

While the others were scrutinizing him, Zhao Baozhu’s gaze immediately found Ye Jinghua seated at the center of the wooden table. The man wore a moon-white robe and sat before a redwood screen inlaid with malachite. His jade-like face was finely shaped, his thick eyebrows extending to his temples, his phoenix-shaped eyes slightly raised. His clear and elegant features exuded an otherworldly aura.

Zhao Baozhu was momentarily dazed, silently thinking to himself “golden appearance, jade-like quality” — then felt that even such earthly words diminished the man’s ethereal presence.

Fang Li wiped the sweat from his forehead and tilted his head, saying, “Aren’t you going to greet the Young Master?”

Zhao Baozhu suddenly realized. This ethereal-looking man before him must be the innkeeper of this guesthouse. Ordinarily, one would address him as such, but looking at this man, Zhao Baozhu couldn’t bring himself to use a term so tainted with the smell of copper coins. He must be a scion of some noble family, only running this inn for amusement.

Zhao Baozhu then bent slightly and cupped his hands in salute to the man, “Baozhu pays respects to Young Master.”

Normally, a servant meeting his master for the first time would kneel. Fang Li was about to reprimand him, but Ye Jinghua said, “Come forward.”

Fang Li froze, eyes wide with surprise. But Zhao Baozhu was quick and stepped forward without hesitation, leaving no room for obstruction.

Ye Jinghua watched him approach, lowering his eyes slightly, then fixed his gaze on the youth’s fair face. “Your name is Baozhu?”

“Yes.” Standing so close to such an otherworldly figure, Zhao Baozhu’s cheeks flushed as he whispered, “My surname is Zhao.”

Ye Jinghua nodded. “How old are you?”

“I just turned sixteen at the start of the year.”

Hearing this, Ye Jinghua’s brow lifted slightly. “Already sixteen.” Zhao Baozhu’s complexion was fair and tender, his stature short, still resembling a fourteen- or fifteen-year-old boy.

“Who else is in your family?”

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“Only my father and me.”

“Have you ever studied?”

“…A little.”

As the two exchanged questions and answers, Fang Qin came back to his senses. He glanced at Deng Yun with a raised brow, silently asking, “Is this the beggar you mentioned?” Deng Yun’s face turned pale and flushed in turn. He had no idea that this dirty little beggar, once cleaned, would look like this!

Fang Qin withdrew his gaze and sighed deeply. Having a fool for a colleague was like dragging around a ball and chain. Composing himself, he spoke gently, “Young Master, you must be tired today. This Baozhu is here every day; it would be better to talk later.”

Ye Jinghua paused and looked at him. Fang Qin’s smile faltered briefly. Just as he feared he had misspoken, Ye Jinghua said, “Very well.”

He withdrew his gaze, his expression calm, and said to Zhao Baozhu, “Follow Fang Li and do your work well from now on.”

Zhao Baozhu immediately nodded eagerly. He was already grateful to the kind innkeeper who had taken him in. Now, seeing such a distinguished young master only deepened his admiration.

Ye Jinghua saw the boy’s obedience and the faintest curve appeared at the corner of his lips. Yet in the next instant, something caught his eye and his expression faltered. He reached out and brushed aside the hair on Zhao Baozhu’s forehead, revealing a blood-red wound at the temple.

The wound was still fresh, oozing small drops of blood.

Ye Jinghua frowned. “What happened here?”

Fang Qin’s heart skipped a beat as Ye Jinghua touched the wound. He too was startled on seeing the injury, momentarily at a loss for words. Fang Li’s face immediately paled, his lips trembling twice, and his gaze became evasive.

Zhao Baozhu did not notice their reactions. He only felt a coolness from the young master’s palm and shivered slightly. Embarrassed, he said, “It’s my fault—I fell while feeding the horses earlier.”

He hadn’t thought much of it himself. Ye Jinghua’s brow furrowed sharply. “Feeding horses?”

Zhao Baozhu, unaware of any problem, nodded. “Yes.”

Suddenly, a muffled thud sounded. Zhao Baozhu turned and was surprised to see Fang Li kneeling on the ground, head lowered, his face ashen.

Ye Jinghua looked at him with no trace of his earlier ease; a layer of frost gathered over his expression.

A moment later, Zhao Baozhu looked at the room full of kneeling people and trembled as he stood behind Ye Jinghua, unsure how the situation had taken such a turn.

While calling someone from the backyard, Fang Li had recounted everything from start to finish. Now he was kneeling deeply at Ye Jinghua’s feet.

“That’s the whole story...,” he swallowed nervously, not daring to meet his master’s gaze. His voice was tight. “But the feeding of the horses wasn’t arranged by me.”

He then glanced sharply at a small servant kneeling among the others and barked, “Come out at once!”

Under his stern command, a servant scrambled out, rolling and crawling. Zhao Baozhu recognized the figure from earlier—the one who had thrown him the wooden bucket. This man had been arrogant before him, but now before Ye Jinghua, he trembled like a leaf, too frightened to say a word.

“He was specially assigned from the stables by madam. These duties were originally his responsibility. But this beast has been secretly lazy—” Fang Li paused, biting his lip, “This fault is entirely mine. I beg the Young Master to punish me!”

With that, he slammed his head to the floor, making Zhao Baozhu wince painfully.

Ye Jinghua remained seated above, his gaze fixed on Fang Li. His expression barely changed, but his brows were tighter than before.

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Elsewhere, Yu Qi brought in a stove and stood nearby, wringing a cloth in her hands. She glared at the kneeling crowd, her delicate eyes burning with fury.

These servants in the backyard—seeing how kind the Young Master was, and how he kept himself above worldly matters—they had been so careless! Yu Qi had heard that they were pushing all their tasks onto the newly taken-in Baozhu. She was so angry she wanted to rush over and slap them all, then sell them off from the estate!

Her anger wasn’t for Baozhu’s sake alone. The Ye household’s rules were strict; every needle and thread had its place. The staff in the backyard had been carefully chosen one by one by madam herself, tears in her eyes, when the branch household was established. Yet, in less than three years, these beasts dared to shirk responsibilities and dump everything on a new little beggar! They might benefit now, but should Baozhu make a mistake and implicate Ye Jinghua, their heads wouldn’t be enough to pay the price!

Still, no matter how angry she was, Yu Qi dared not intervene. She was merely a favored maid, not a legitimate wife, with no authority over the servants. Everything still depended on Ye Jinghua’s decision.

She turned her head slightly and saw Ye Jinghua frowning with closed eyes. He said in a cold voice, “I didn’t realize the rules in this courtyard had fallen into such disorder.”

At once, the kneeling crowd kowtowed like pounding mortar. Zhao Baozhu looked at one narrow-eyed girl, who was crying until her face was flushed red, no longer scolding with folded arms as before. Ten or twenty people all began to cry out together, the main room erupting in noise.

Fang Qin raised his brows and shouted angrily, “How dare you cry! Shut up at once!”

The crying abruptly ceased, leaving only soft sobs. Many secretly glanced at Ye Jinghua’s face. As longtime Ye household staff, they knew the second young master disliked noise. The tears were only for show; no one dared to cry loud enough to annoy him.

Ye Jinghua sat upright at the head of the table, his face unreadable.

After a while, he spoke: “Fang Li.”

Fang Li lifted his head, his handsome face covered in cold sweat. Ye Jinghua looked at him calmly. “You have mismanaged. You are suspended for six months and fined three months’ wages.” Then he turned to Fang Qin. “I will leave him under your supervision.”

Fang Qin immediately responded seriously, “Young Master, please rest assured. I will restrain him.”

Ye Jinghua nodded and withdrew his gaze. Fang Li exhaled deeply, his tightly clenched hands slowly relaxing, his strength seeming to ebb away.

At the same time, the servants kneeling behind him also sighed. They knew the Ye family’s second young master was easy to fool. Unlike his elder brother’s sternness, the second young master never mingled with worldly affairs, appearing like a jade statue on a lotus throne. Though taciturn, he never troubled the servants.

Seeing Fang Li gently set aside, they relaxed too, some even smiling. The narrow-eyed girl lifted her head and glared fiercely at Zhao Baozhu.

Zhao Baozhu was baffled by the glare.

But the next moment, Ye Jinghua’s voice rang out again from the head of the room: “As for the rest of you, I cannot manage you anymore. Return to your original households tomorrow.”

The words fell lightly on the servants like a thunderclap. Their faces turned pale. These people had come with the branch household when it was founded; returning now would be obvious to anyone. Moreover, madam in the main household was a sharp and resourceful woman. If she heard of this, they would surely be beaten to death!

None had expected that over such a trivial matter, the second young master would abandon them all!

The room erupted with cries more piercing than before. Zhao Baozhu looked at the narrow-eyed girl, who suddenly went pale and collapsed to the floor, her eyes vacant, unable even to cry.

Ye Jinghua’s face remained impassive. He raised his right hand, and immediately a dozen burly servants stepped forward, dragging everyone out within moments.

In less than a quarter of an hour, the room was quiet again, with no sign of the earlier commotion.

Zhao Baozhu, having never seen such a scene, was stunned and fearful, shrinking his shoulders like a quail as he stood behind Ye Jinghua, cautiously glancing at the man’s jade-colored profile.

Looking like an immortal, yet unexpectedly a jade-faced lord of death.

He thought this to himself when, in the next instant, the jade-faced lord of death turned his head, noticing Zhao Baozhu’s timid expression. His features softened slightly as he pulled out a chair beside him.

“You still have a wound on your head. Sit.”