Chapter 81: Triple Blessings Bring Greater Worries

How could this young man possibly have good intentions!

The magistrate of Lu’s worries were by no means unfounded; just the sight of the Bamboo Grove Guild people gave him a headache. He felt both pleased and troubled whenever he saw them, and thus, it was easy to understand why Wang Gemei looked down on them with such disdain and disgust.

“Pleased? You lot are lucky you haven’t come to report some tragedy! The whole prefecture is peaceful—except for your blasted Bamboo Grove Guild, always stirring up trouble! If the day comes when you turn to banditry, I won’t be the least bit surprised!” Magistrate Lu’s tone was laced with sarcasm and reproach. He leaned forward as he spoke, his words carrying the force of authority—impossible to question.

Yan Shan hurriedly knelt, his slick temperament deeply ingrained. He always knew how to say the right thing to the right person, never uttering a harsh word to those in power. People’s tempers, he mused, were like a dog’s fur, best stroked in the right direction.

Zhang Jifeng looked quite pleased with himself. Having come this far, he felt all the more open.

“Congratulations, Magistrate! I have brought you the greatest treasure of Anping County—the Frosted Morning Glory! This flower is a rare gem! Oh, what a marvelous thing it is!”

Perhaps to mask his own unease, Zhang Jifeng had a penchant for exaggeration, praising his own wares like an old woman hawking melons—boasting loudly but never convincing anyone to buy.

Old Hu, brows bristling, was not about to be outdone. Zhang Jifeng’s arrogance was insufferable; he could not allow him the upper hand.

“It is I who should congratulate the Magistrate!” Old Hu countered. “Only this radiant winter bloom is worthy of being called a great treasure! How dare you bring any wildflower and claim it as a precious object?”

Magistrate Lu flew into a rage. “Do you take me for a fool? Would I not recognize a morning glory?” As he spoke, he formed a fist and thumped the table, making the wood resound.

Old Hu sneered, clearly confident of victory; the more displeased Magistrate Lu was with the other flower, the more likely he would favor Old Hu’s own.

Zhang Jifeng’s heart pounded. For the sake of promotion and wealth, he was willing to give his all.

“They say the most inconspicuous things are often the truest treasures. How long has it been since Anping County has bloomed? Why shouldn’t this frosted morning glory be the secret winter flower?”

The other constables began to murmur among themselves. Wasn’t presenting a winter blossom before the magistrate already a joyful occasion? Why fuss so much over which was better or worse?

No one could guess what was going through Magistrate Lu’s mind. His health had been failing recently, and he’d heard rumors that the Emperor planned to send him to the southern frontier—a land rife with miasma and savagery, where most officials perished from disease within a year, blood seeping from every orifice.

Such rumors recalled the day when the Red-Armored Captain had taken Magistrate Lu to the nearby Mount Fo for a fortune-telling by a reputed sage. The augury foretold both great joy and great sorrow: the joy of promotion and imperial favor, the sorrow of an uncertain future and a disaster drenched in blood should he make one wrong move.

Great joy and great sorrow, imperial favor and an uncertain path. In the past, before battles, he would always consult the omens to judge fortune or disaster, to decide whether to risk his life in the fray. And, truth be told, the omens often proved true; when ill fortune was foretold, he would avoid the fight and escape defeat. When fortune seemed bright, he would charge bravely, determined to claim the glory of first merit. To most ministers, he was a calculating and inscrutable general; to the Emperor, he was a valuable and lucky asset.

Though barely in his thirties, Magistrate Lu only wished for a peaceful life. Whether expanding territory on the battlefield or guarding a region, if he didn’t take on these tasks, someone else would. All he wanted was a suitable place to live out his days.

But now, this one divination had unsettled his superstitious heart. Sometimes he regretted ever asking for his fortune.

That was why the Red-Armored Captain had inquired about the winter flower on his behalf. Legend held that the winter flower was no ordinary thing; it had to be placed in a cauldron and refined for forty-nine days, after which the resulting flower elixir could bestow the secret of immortality.

The problem was, there was only one winter flower. To use it for alchemy was risky—who knew what consequences the elixir might bring?

Though coarse in appearance, Magistrate Lu was far more experienced than Wang Gemei, never acting without assurance. The two men below argued endlessly, but continuing to listen was pointless. He turned his gaze to the newly arrived Yan Shan. The Bamboo Grove Guild—were they about to perform some trickery again?

“You, the newcomer! You mentioned great joy as well? What is the meaning of this?”

Two bouquets lay on the table. Yan Shan examined them closely. The flower near Old Hu was dazzling, clearly not ordinary. The bouquet near Zhang Jifeng was plainly a frosted morning glory—nothing remarkable. Yan Shan’s mind whirled, and a plan quickly formed.

“What else could it be but great joy!” Yan Shan finally seized his chance, speaking smoothly. “Our President Luo, at your command, braved the inauspicious lands to procure the great treasure of the winter flower, which now sits upon your table. What’s more, good fortune has doubled—both flowers are here!”

Old Hu and Zhang Jifeng both looked at Yan Shan, while Magistrate Lu’s lips curled in a sly smile.

Magistrate Lu slammed the table. “Speak! Which flower is it?”

Old Hu was no longer concerned with explaining truth or falsehood. Entrusted by Luo Gan, he had come here seeking reward on his own initiative. Now with Yan Shan present, his only worry was how he would account to Luo Gan afterward.

Zhang Jifeng desperately signaled Yan Shan with his eyes. He had no idea of Old Hu’s connection to Luo Gan or the Bamboo Grove Guild. All he wanted was to win Yan Shan over—perhaps share some benefits and thus deceive the ill-fated magistrate.

“Yan Shan! We fetched the flower together—this is the Bamboo Grove Guild’s accomplishment!” Zhang Jifeng threatened quietly.

Old Hu ignored Yan Shan, bowing to the magistrate. “Magistrate, see with clarity!”

After kowtowing, Yan Shan continued, “To tell the truth, Magistrate, we and Captain Zhang are colleagues. After a fierce struggle, Captain Zhang led his men to the rescue, protecting the brethren of the prefectural office, while President Luo risked his life to seize the winter flower, which he entrusted to…” Yan Shan deliberately paused, “Manager Hu!”

Manager Hu was overjoyed, while Zhang Jifeng staggered back a few steps in shock, not knowing what to do. Magistrate Lu picked up the brilliant, multicolored flower, scrutinizing it carefully.

“Captain Zhang was simply mistaken—his loyalty is beyond doubt! We wanted him to present the flower to Magistrate Wang, to pass off the false as the true,” Yan Shan declared, his tone firm and persuasive.

With matters at this stage, Zhang Jifeng had no choice but to kneel and repeatedly kowtow to show his loyalty.

Old Hu, uncertain whether to feel joy or sorrow, had no choice but to follow Yan Shan’s lead.

Magistrate Lu asked, “Where is your President? Why does he not dare appear before me?”

Yan Shan replied unhurriedly, “The President has exhausted himself and is now gravely wounded. He risked his life to obtain the winter flower, sending Manager Hu to present it as a gesture to rescue Brother Zhang of the Bamboo Guild—a display of utmost sincerity!”

No matter what, whether Zhang Jifeng or Manager Hu, there was no point in struggling further.