IDWBE -Chapter 503 A Happy Event at Home

Even before taking office, he was already playing the political game of self-preservation.

He was no longer the pure little Hong Yingzi he had once been.

Seeing Lin Yi frown, Hong Ying hurriedly said, “I admit my fault. As the great poet Xie said: The hardships of the Sichuan region are harder than reaching the heavens. For forty-eight thousand years, no human settlement has passed through the Liang frontier. In my opinion, Your Highness, this region is remote. With your precious body, the long journey by carriage and boat would be too taxing. I could not bear to let you endure such hardships.”

“That’s more like it. What I want is the truth,” Lin Yi said with a smile. “You’re not a politician, so don’t bother with caution and overthinking. Besides, even if you tried to imitate He Jixiang and the others, you wouldn’t succeed—they’re true old foxes: calm, patient, and cunning, unlike ordinary people. You, however, should just be yourself. If you copy them, you’re no longer you.”

“Your Highness, I have let you down and betrayed your trust. I am at fault,” Hong Ying said, tears welling up, and he flopped to his knees before Lin Yi, pressing his forehead against Lin Yi’s wooden clogs. “Please punish me!”

Lin Yi looked disgusted. He wanted to say, “A grown man crying like this—what a sight!” But then he remembered Hong Ying was no longer a man, and to respect his pride, he refrained. He merely said in annoyance, “You’ve been with me for over twenty years, and you still don’t understand me? Whenever I’m troubled, you come running, right?”

Hong Ying hurriedly stood and said, “It’s entirely my fault. Your Highness, please don’t be angry.”

The prince hated unnecessary formalities, especially kneeling at every little thing. But he hated disrespect even more—people who didn’t take him seriously.

A few extra gestures might irritate him or earn a scolding, but it’s never life-threatening.

If he were in a bad mood and someone failed to observe the proper etiquette, acting like a spoiled child, he would hold a grudge in his heart—and that would feel like death.

So between the two evils, it’s better to err on the side of formality.

This principle was shared by Hong Ying and the other old guards like He Jixiang and Chen Desheng. Even the reckless Yu Xiaoshi and A-Dai knew: if you make a mistake, bang your head on the floor first, and the prince will soften—then even the gravest issue becomes trivial.

“I’m not angry,” Lin Yi said, shrugging off the heavy clogs, barefoot, letting Hong Ying help roll up his pants. “I know how hard the Sichuan region is. I’d rather lie at home, eat and dress without worry. But this Jizhao Temple is too sinister. If I don’t go, I can’t rest easy. With that bastard Yu Xiaoshi, can I trust him to handle things?”

Ye Qiu, Wang Dong, and Han Nian had all become Grand Masters. According to Hong Ying, they could face the Jizhao Temple monks in battle—especially the monk Han Nian, whose skill rivaled Jing Yi.

But Ye Qiu was unruly and would not obey the Sichuan generals.

The blind monk and Han Nian were well-behaved but not easy to manage.

As for the newly minted Grand Masters like Pan Duo, Yu Xiaochun, Yu Xiaoshi, and the Cui brothers, they were reckless and arrogant.

If Lin Yi didn’t go personally, who could control them? Chaos was inevitable.

Hong Ying understood the prince’s concerns and smiled. “If Your Highness trusts me, I’ll go to Sichuan personally.”

“You’ll go?” Lin Yi’s eyes brightened. “That’s not impossible.”

These people respected him, but feared Hong Ying. A single word from Lin Yi might upset them, but against Hong Ying, everyone trembled. A slap on the left cheek? They’d immediately offer the right, fearing Hong Ying would punish them further.

Hong Ying smiled politely. “Your Highness, should I notify Governor He in the capital?”

Lin Yi said, “The troops in Sichuan are commanded by Yuan Shuo and Yuan Zhen—my two uncles. I don’t like them, but I can’t deny their skill. A tiger leading sheep can still do little. Has He Jixiang mentioned moving any troops?”

“Reporting to Your Highness,” Hong Ying said quietly, “the generals entering Sichuan this time are Jinling General He Shundi, Raocheng General Ji Zhuo, and Yuezhou General Ma Gui.”

Lin Yi frowned. “So it’s these three. That’s manageable.”

All three came from the prince’s guard and were well understood.

“They are all at the peak of ninth rank,” Hong Ying said cautiously, “and have been trained in my personal ‘Star-Absorbing Technique.’ Even against a Grand Master, their lives are safe.”

“Star-Absorbing Technique?” Lin Yi’s face fell. “Hearing that makes me even more uneasy.”

Hong Ying’s cultivation methods were named after novels, and Lin Yi had always been skeptical. He had grown to trust Hong Ying slightly after seeing him defeat many experts, but something like a “Star-Absorbing Technique”? That was pure mysticism! Lin Yi even wondered if Hong Ying and his companions were playing a game to amuse him—each a master of trickery.

“Your Highness, you jest,” Hong Ying said with a wry smile. He had performed the technique many times, yet the prince remained unconvinced.

Lin Yi stretched lazily. “Has Wen Zhaoyi returned? She vanished without a trace. That’s utterly unreasonable.”

Hong Ying said, “I’ve sent Pan Duo to investigate. Your Highness, rest assured, any news will be reported immediately.”

Lin Yi nodded, about to say more, when he saw a little head peeking from the doorway. He dashed over, scooped her up, and exclaimed happily, “My precious little one! Did you miss me?”

Then he smacked her on the cheek.

The little girl cried in confusion.

Zixia quickly caught her and laughed, “Your Highness, your beard pricked her.”

“Heh.” Lin Yi touched his stubble sheepishly. “It hasn’t even been two days since I shaved.”

After calming the little girl, Lin Yi held her again, smiling indulgently, “It’s all my fault. I apologize, don’t be angry.”

The way she pouted almost melted his heart.

Night fell.

Once Lin Yi slept, Hong Ying returned to the stables.

“Master,” Hong An greeted first.

Hong Ying asked, “Why are you here?”

Hong An replied respectfully, “My master’s family is my family. My aunt is sick; it’s my duty to attend her.”

Hong Ying silently approved and entered the bedroom.

The little girl said, “Uncle, the doctor is miraculous. With just two doses, Mother woke, ate a little, and slept again.”

Hong Ying said, “Go sleep too; you’re not needed here.”

Hong An smiled, “I told her that, but she’s filial and refuses to leave.”

“Uncle…” The little girl hesitated.

Hong Ying gently said, “With me here, everything will be managed. If anything comes up, just say it.”

Hong An watched her master’s tender expression, feeling envious. His master had always been strict with her, never so gentle.

The little girl finally said, “My younger brother is still at home, and there’s no rice.”

“Don’t worry,” Hong Ying said, patting her head. “I’ve already sent people to the old home. By tomorrow, someone will bring Erlang here. Don’t worry and get some rest.”

Of all his nephews, he valued this second son most. Though not talented in martial arts, he was exceptionally smart.

Before going to Sanhe, he even sent the boy to the county school.

Before thirteen, he was already a scholar.

If it weren’t for his position as chief steward, he would have sent his nephew to be trained by officials like He Jixiang and Chen Desheng.

“Yes, sister, let’s follow Master’s advice. I’ll take you to bed,” Hong An said, leading the little girl out.

Hong Ying turned to the bed, seeing the rough but gradually pinking face.

He couldn’t help gently brushing her cheek.

“You dirty child.” Hearing this, Hong Ying wept, “Big sister, I woke you.”

“Ouch… body aches, never a good sleep,” she said, propped up with his help. “Those kids went too far, dragging me here and making you suffer.”

Hong Ying wiped her face with a wet towel. “You’re my sister. Why say that? We’re family.”

“My eldest is so disobedient, can’t control him,” she cried. “It’s good to teach him a lesson—better than letting him die at someone else’s hands.”

Hong Ying wiped her tears. “He’s not inherently bad. Don’t worry. I’ve found a small estate outside the city. You and brother-in-law can farm twenty acres and keep livestock. Life will be good.”

“Ah!” She gasped. “You can’t do that—you’ve already spent enough. My brother-in-law is poor but proud.”

“Sister,” Hong Ying smiled, “this isn’t for you, but for Erlang. He’s studious. As his uncle, I must do everything for him.”

“You’ve troubled yourself,” she said, tears flowing again.

“You should care more for yourself,” Hong Ying said, giving her some energy. “The children haven’t married. If you harm yourself, it becomes their burden—and then caring for children would be impossible.”

“You’re right,” she said, stopping her tears. “I just have a weak body.”

“You speak nonsense. Illnesses are like mountains—they don’t obey your will,” Hong Ying said, helping her lie down again. “Rest well. Once healed, make me delicious food. Thinking of your chicken with mushrooms and lion’s head meatballs makes my mouth water.”

“You dirty child, cheering me up again,” she laughed. “Now that you’ve grown, who cares about my cooking?”

“In the past, we were the poorest in the village. During festivals, Mother would cook for pride. You’d eat just a few bites, but I always enjoyed it. Keep making it for me forever.”

She smiled. “Alright, alright, I’ll make it. Once I recover, whatever you want, I’ll cook.”

Seeing her eyes flutter, Hong Ying smiled. “Rest if you’re tired. At dawn, I’ll have someone make your favorite meat porridge with our own pearwood fruit—sweet and delicious.”

She drifted off, and Hong Ying carefully tucked her in, quietly exiting, closing the door. He told the two kitchen maids at the door, “Stay alert tonight.”

“Yes,” they replied in unison.

They didn’t know the steward’s reputation, but among the guards in the stables—Lei Kaishan, Tan Fei—they were fearsome figures. Yet these maids cowered like mice seeing a cat.

“Master,” Hong An said, “sister was exhausted and could barely keep going. She’s now asleep and even snoring.”

“What about Wang Dong?”

“Ah…” Hong An was startled; she didn’t expect the sudden question.

Hong Ying said, “You’re grown. Your marriage is your decision. This is the freedom I told the prince about. No one can decide for you. You don’t even need my advice. You like the blind man, then like him. But one thing—don’t regret it later. Food, oil, salt, sauces—he can’t manage it alone. Most of the burden is yours.”

“Master…” Hong An’s eyes welled up. For the first time in years, her master spoke so openly.

She knelt and bowed three times deeply.