IDWBE – Chapter 10 Not Even Worth Ranking

“I’m telling you,” Zhu Ruorong was saying loudly, “a Grandmaster is definitely the strongest. Don’t think it’s only one rank above Ninth Rank—the difference in ability is enormous…”

A four-horse carriage came to a steady stop in front of Prince He’s residence. Just as Lin Yi stepped down, he heard Zhu Ruorong’s booming voice.

It was already past the hour of Si; all the meat on his stall had long been sold out, leaving only flies dancing over the empty table, drawn by the lingering smell of blood.

Yet Zhu Ruorong had not packed up. Standing beneath a large willow tree by the wall of Prince He’s residence, he was boasting extravagantly to a crowd.

“Being unranked is basically the same as being third-rate,” he declared.

“So, Zhu Ruorong, are you ranked or unranked?” someone teased.

“That just shows you don’t understand anything!” Zhu Ruorong said proudly. “Only after reaching the stage of Hua-jin can you qualify for ranking—that’s Second Rank! And what a coincidence—I just reached Hua-jin yesterday!”

“Zhu Ruorong, since you’re so amazing, show us a demonstration!”

“Yeah, pull up a willow tree! Didn’t Prince He tell a story about a monk named Lu who could uproot trees? Let’s see how you compare!”

“Do it! Do it!”

The crowd cheered.

“Demonstrate? I’m not a circus monkey!” he said, but despite his words, Zhu Ruorong turned toward the willow tree, about as thick as an arm. He squatted, roared, and wrapped both arms around the trunk.

With another roar, the blue bricks around the roots began slowly lifting from the ground.

“Ah!”

“Incredible!”

Gasps rose from the crowd.

Soon the soil bulged upward, and then the exposed roots came into view.

The gasps turned into disbelief.

As Prince He liked to say—this was truly a moment to witness a miracle!

The willow tree might have been slender, but its roots were deep, and stone slabs weighed it down. For an ordinary person, pulling it up would have been pure fantasy.

Zhu Ruorong yanked the tree free and tossed it aside. Clapping his hands, he beamed and cupped his fists to the crowd.

“Haha! So, what do you think of my skills?”

At that moment, he noticed Prince He stepping down from the carriage.

He grew even more excited and flashed Lin Yi a foolish grin from afar.

“That willow tree is property of the prince’s residence—sacred and inviolable,” Lin Yi said calmly, glancing at Zhu Ruorong and then turning to Hong Ying. “He’ll need to compensate for it.”

Hong Ying lowered his head respectfully and smiled. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Your Highness…”

Zhu Ruorong’s face fell instantly, his voice trembling.

How stupid he was!

Truly stupid!

How had he forgotten that this area belonged to Prince He’s residence?

Sensing trouble, the crowd scattered at once.

Prince He was famous for squeezing every last feather from a passing goose.

Only Zhu Ruorong remained, standing dumbly beside his stall.

As Lin Yi stepped through the gate, he casually shrugged off his outer robe, which Hong Ying caught smoothly.

“Look at you,” Lin Yi said with a sigh. “You look down on this and that all day, but Zhu Ruorong only learned a few crude moves from you, and now he’s stronger than you, isn’t he? That fellow really is a prodigy—so powerful!”

Lin Yi shook his head at the frail-looking Hong Ying.

Other transmigrators, he thought, merely released their domineering aura and martial arts masters would kneel before them.

But here he was, surrounded by the elderly, the weak, and the infirm.

Hong Ying bowed. “This servant deserves punishment.”

After Mingyue and Zixia followed the prince inside, Hong Ying deliberately lagged a few steps behind. A cold, sinister expression gradually spread across his face.

Outside the wall, Zhu Ruorong suddenly shuddered violently. Staggering, he fell face-first to the ground, blood streaming from his nostrils.

He barely managed to stand. Looking at the bright red blood shining in the sunlight, he realized—it was his own.

With a terrified scream, he fled as if for his life.

A slender black hound named Dahei saw Lin Yi from afar and immediately charged toward him.

“Don’t come over!” Lin Yi shouted in alarm.

That beast had no sense of restraint; more than once it had torn his clothes with its paws. Once it had even knocked him flat, the back of his head hitting the ground.

There was no time to dodge. Seeing the excited canine face already upon him, he could only close his eyes and resign himself.

A few seconds passed.

Instead of being pounced on, he heard a splash.

Opening his eyes, he saw Dahei floundering in the lotus pond, swimming desperately toward the opposite bank. As soon as it climbed out, without even shaking the water from its fur, it tucked its tail and ran.

“Ah… you really are a troublesome fellow,” Lin Yi sighed leisurely, then said to Hong Ying, “Next time, kick a little more gently. He’s going to be a father soon. If the pups are born without a father, that’s truly miserable.”

Thinking of his own childhood in an orphanage, Lin Yi spoke with genuine feeling.

“Your Highness is right,” Hong Ying said, unable to suppress a smile.

“Your Highness is most compassionate,” Mingyue added flatteringly.

Lin Yi shook his head helplessly. Talking with them was no fun at all.

When Mingyue had first come to his side, she had been kind, innocent, and sincere. In his heart, he had treated her like an older sister. They had once been close, able to speak about anything.

But after spending years in the palace, she had changed completely.

At least in front of him, she now wore a mask—no longer the same sincerity and warmth as before.

He could not change his own personality from his previous life, nor could he change other people’s minds. Everything was futile.

For the first time in the eighteen years since coming to this world, he felt a sense of powerlessness.

Holding a teacup, reclining in a chair, he caught the aroma of food placed on the stone table beside him.

“Spicy braised chicken,” Lin Yi said with a smile, sniffing. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had this.”

Living again in this world without air-conditioning and Wi-Fi was one thing—but even his stomach had to suffer.

The dishes from the Imperial Kitchen were truly terrible!

Worst of all, when he was three years old, the emperor Lin Xun’s half-brother, Prince Liang of Liangzhou, had rebelled.

The Prince of Liangzhou personally led an army said to number two hundred thousand, sweeping across the northwest and advancing toward Ankang.

At the time, the treasury was empty. To share the emperor’s burden, the empress took the lead in advocating frugality in the palace, reducing expenses. The concubines naturally followed, voluntarily halving their stipends or even giving them up entirely.

The palace meals changed drastically. From a whole plate of what looked like pig feed, he could hardly pick out a few slices of meat.

But when he thought that the emperor—lord of all under heaven—was eating the same food, he immediately felt better.

Fortunately, his own mother came from a wealthy family and lacked nothing. She could secretly have extra food prepared, occasionally gnawing on a roasted lamb leg or pig’s trotter with him.

Thankfully, the rebellion was suppressed after half a year, and palace provisions gradually returned to normal.

Even so, he still found the food hard to swallow.

At twelve, he discovered chili peppers being grown as ornamental plants in the imperial garden and nearly wept with joy.

He openly saved the seeds and planted a whole row in Consort Yuan’s courtyard.

After leaving the palace, he planted a large patch in Prince He’s residence.

The spicy braised chicken before him was a dish he had taught the cooks to make; it was now a must-order item in the inns and restaurants he ran.

In Ankang City, the faction of “spicy lovers” had gradually grown strong enough to rival the “sweet lovers” and the “salty lovers.”