Chapter Thirty: Taking the Act Too Far

Imperial Palace, Hall of Supreme Harmony.

An elderly man dressed in a golden dragon robe slowly placed the memorial on the jade table. A tall stack of documents had already piled up before him, and the long hours spent bent over his work made him unconsciously knead his aching temples.

"Sire, the hour grows late. Perhaps you should rest for a while."

The old servant at his side hurried forward, skillfully replacing the emperor’s thin fingers with his own more practiced and gentle touch.

"Ah… One cannot resist the advance of age. In those days, I could ride for three days and nights, traverse a thousand miles, and still have the strength to cut down enemies without fatigue. Now, after only a few hours wielding a brush, my head swims and aches…"

"Your Majesty is still in the prime of life—how could you ever be called old? It is the endless paperwork that exhausts the body. Your concern for the realm naturally brings fatigue. Please, take more rest."

"Haha… You, old rascal, always know how to flatter. I was coaxed from a head full of black hair to what is now snowy white."

The emperor closed his eyes in contentment, enjoying the pressure upon his head.

"Tell me, what mischief has that boy from the Feng family stirred up now? Even sitting here in the Hall of Supreme Harmony, I can hear the clank of the Imperial Guards' armor…"

As he finished speaking, the two young eunuchs tending the lamps and fans in the hall felt their hearts clench, their hairs standing on end.

"Sire, I sent someone to investigate earlier. It seems the third son of the Feng family partnered with others in business and lost some money. The commotion is caused by creditors arriving at his door."

"Ah… In the end, I am still indebted to my elder brother’s family. How much silver is lacking? Take it from the inner treasury. That girl from the Beiming family should be returning soon—let’s not have them laugh at us when they arrive."

The emperor took a sip of tea, and when he received no reply from his servant, his brows furrowed in displeasure.

"What is it? Is there more?"

"Sire, the business debt owed by the third son of the Feng family is a bit…"

The old eunuch hesitated, for his master had already spoken generously. Having served together for over twenty years, the emperor could easily discern the hidden meaning.

"How much does that boy owe?"

"Oh… Not much… At most, each person is owed twenty or thirty taels…"

Hearing that the maximum debt per person was only twenty or thirty taels, the emperor let out a slow sigh of relief.

"But…"

"But what?"

The old eunuch gritted his teeth and took the plunge.

"But the number of creditors is rather high… Two or three thousand people, perhaps…"

"Pfft—"

The emperor had just sipped his tea; upon hearing this, he suddenly sprayed it out.

Meanwhile, the instigator surnamed Feng was sprawled lazily on the steps, surrounded by a dozen people glaring at him in a row.

At their head was Master Zheng Yongxiang of the Zheng family, accompanied by his steward Wang Song, both chosen as representatives of the creditors to negotiate with Feng Jingzhe. The other eight or nine were citizens of Chang’an, selected as spokesmen.

On the other side stood three officials. With such a large-scale incident, Dou Wen’an, the magistrate of Chang’an, was inevitably involved. Another was Fang Shaoyan, who, much to his misfortune, had nearly become Feng Jingzhe’s guardian in Chang’an, being the official matchmaker in name. He was the one who brought Feng Jingzhe from Pingyang; now that trouble had arisen, naturally he was sought.

The last was a burly, armored man with a thick beard—Wu Dayong, a captain of the Imperial Guards. He had brought over two hundred guards to maintain order.

His name, fitting for a warrior, was easy to remember: Wu Dayong.

"Lord Dou, you are the magistrate of Chang’an. Will you stand by and watch countless citizens be swindled by this villain? That is the hard-earned money of many, now squandered by Feng Jingzhe, this fraud…"

"Hey, Zheng, if you can’t speak properly, keep your mouth shut. Who’s a fraud? You were the ones who broke the contract first! Each agreement is written in black and white—the loan term is exactly thirty days. If you want your money, wait until the time is up; I, Feng Jingzhe, will honor the contract."

"Nonsense! Everyone knows your goods were burned by thieves in Tianshui. When the loan term ends, you’ll run—who will we chase then?"

"Yes, either pay up now, or don’t blame us for taking action…"

Those chosen as representatives were certainly no pushovers. Hearing Feng Jingzhe insist on abiding by the contract, they weren’t foolish enough to accept.

"Oh, I’d like to see just how you’ll be ‘unpleasant’ with me! There are hundreds of armored guards outside—breaking your word and your contract, and you think you’re in the right?"

Feng Jingzhe rolled to his feet and shamelessly stuck his head out.

"Hit me then, if you dare! My wife can take eight thousand hits for ten thousand—if you’re not afraid to die, go ahead and smash my head!"

His shameless display nearly drove everyone present to fury, but with Wu Dayong around, no one actually dared to lay a hand on him.

"Feng, don’t try to scare us. Since ancient times, debts must be repaid—it’s only right! We won’t be swayed; if you don’t return the money today, even if General Beiming arrives, it won’t help you."

"That’s right! Pay up! Even if the King of Heaven comes today, you must pay!"

"Third Master Feng, do you find this amusing? Look at this grand mansion—just renovated, isn’t it? See that pond—was it dug with our money? And that rockery…"

Zheng Yongxiang pointed all around, and the ten representatives grew increasingly grim-faced. Even Fang Shaoyan was left speechless; he had visited the Feng family mansion before and knew well what it once looked like. Now, with all the carved beams and painted rafters, the silver spent must be staggering.

The facts were plain: anyone could see that Feng Jingzhe had used the money borrowed from the people to embellish his own home. With the purchased goods now burnt by thieves, and his stubborn insistence on honoring the contract, it was clear he truly had no money left.

Understanding this, the anger among the citizen representatives flared. Suddenly, a young man grabbed a brick from the flowerbed and charged at Feng Jingzhe, heedless of consequences.

Fortunately, Wu Dayong reacted swiftly, kicking him aside. But now the hornet’s nest was stirred—everyone else erupted, grabbing whatever tools were at hand. The house was still under renovation, so shovels, hoes, and more were plentiful.

As conflict became inevitable, Zheng Yongxiang and Dou Wen’an, almost by instinct, ducked behind the rockery. Fang Shaoyan retreated in fear, watching as Feng Jingzhe’s head was about to be smashed.

At that moment, a young girl clutching a wooden box suddenly darted out from behind.

"I have money… I have money… Ah—"

"Careful—!"

Seeing a shovel about to strike the girl, Feng Jingzhe swiftly pulled her into his arms, taking the blow himself.

"Damn… You lot really mean it!"

As he cried out, the girl's money box struck the ground, scattering a thick stack of banknotes across the floor…