Chapter Seventy-Eight: Zhang Tianbao

What a good person! She understands the hardships of ordinary people, and takes the initiative to lower the rent for suffering tenant farmers. This is the demeanor that a new generation of landlady should possess, especially one like Yun Hao, born in New China and raised under the red flag. Having received education on class struggle from a young age, Yun Hao highly approves of Zhang Miaoke’s kindness. In his mind, her image seems to have grown taller, even slightly haloed with a touch of sanctity.

“The master’s wedding—how could there not be gifts for the tenants? But the household finances must cover daily expenses. The rewards from the Duke’s mansion can’t be given to those who toil; they couldn’t accept them. So, with no other option, we waived half a year’s rent. With fewer mouths to feed at home, we can manage,” Zhang Miaoke explained, her words somehow striking a nerve. Facing Li Jiancheng, Chai Shao, and Changsun, who had come to offer congratulations, tears streamed down her face.

Yun Hao snapped out of his dreamlike state. A vixen is still a vixen; even with a saintly aura, her cunning nature remains unchanged.

The famous paintings and calligraphy stayed, the pearls and agate were kept, and each person even received a heap of copper coins. Changsun took Zhang Miaoke’s hand, speaking with grave sincerity: “It’s been hard for you, raising such a child. The Yun family is depending on you now. If you face any difficulties, tell the mansion. Hao saved my second son and cured the Duke’s illness. As long as our Duke’s mansion stands, we won’t let your family go hungry.”

“Thank you, noble one! Your kindness is something the Yun family could never repay even with a lifetime of gratitude...!”

The two “Bodhisattvas” seemed about to swear brotherhood, leaving Yun Hao dumbfounded. To make polite words sound so heartfelt—besides Zhen Huan, he’d never seen anyone pull it off. Glancing back at Yuan’er and Xin’er, who were practically worshipping, and the smiling Zhao, Yun Hao felt the Yun family was shrouded in a vast shadow—one shaped exactly like Zhang Miaoke.

Home was no longer tolerable; the imbalance between yin and yang was severe. Aside from himself, the only man, the rest were all women. They united closely around Zhang Miaoke as their core, striving together for development. Yun Hao was convinced such an environment would affect his physical and mental well-being, so he decided to run away from home—just for half a day.

He headed straight to the Zhang family pharmacy. The Wu family was thoroughly offended. Who knew how Chai Shao would deal with Wu Yuanshuang, but given the Li family’s ruthless temperament, the Wu family’s hope to skate by was pure fantasy. They might even drag out Wu Yuanshuang’s teacher, Li Wenji, for help. Yun Hao was curious: if the venerable Li Gang learned his disciple had defecated in a bathhouse, what would he think?

He found Qi Biao and Lai Shun; the three strode flamboyantly down the main street. Yun Hao had Xin’er sew two pockets onto his clothes, and his hands-in-pockets look drew quite a bit of attention. He occasionally pulled out pine nuts or other snacks, making Lai Shun and Qi Biao envious.

“Bravo...!” They hadn’t walked far when they heard enthusiastic applause. The three, still young, immediately squeezed into the crowd.

On the street, a burly man was surrounded by onlookers. With a roar, his muscles rippled like running mice. He grabbed a brick from the ground, and the fired green brick seemed like tofu in his hands—he crushed it into pieces. Then, picking up the fragments, he continued until they were reduced to powder, brushing the dust off his hands.

“Bravo...!” The crowd erupted again, deafening with cheers. Some children clapped until their palms turned red.

My goodness! Is he even human? Yun Hao stared at the Schwarzenegger-esque giant, convinced the man had Transformer blood. It was autumn, yet he was shirtless; his muscles were bronze, his nose lion-like, his mouth wide, ears flapping in the breeze. His hair was short, and on closer inspection, there seemed to be scars from monastic rituals.

Could he be a monk? Impossible! In the Sui dynasty, monks were fabulously wealthy; some temples owned thousands of acres. They were savvy, deeply involved in finance, and the biggest loan sharks among the common folk were monks. Oh—and those old Daoists revered by the Li family!

Loan sharks always hired muscle. This guy would make a great enforcer—so why was he performing on the street? Yun Hao puzzled over it.

“I am Zhang Tianbao, passing through your esteemed neighborhood today. Ran out of money and had to spend some, so if you have cash, please reward me; if not, just your applause is enough...!” Zhang Tianbao addressed the crowd with a bow. The interested onlookers immediately dispersed. A few ruffians stood far off, shouting about smashing stones on his chest.

A little girl carrying a jar for donations looked aggrieved, tears brimming but not quite falling as she crouched, picking up scattered copper coins.

There were few coins, maybe a dozen. Zhang Tianbao weighed them in his hand, patted the girl’s head, gave a bitter smile, then went to a stall and bought two large pancakes. Tearing off half for himself, he stuffed the rest into the girl’s hands. He seemed to consider, then tore off a piece from his own portion, compared the sizes, kept the smaller for himself, and gave the larger piece to the girl.

“He’s a decent guy!” Qi Biao, abandoned as a child and unaware of his parents, couldn’t bear such displays of kindness. He pulled copper coins from his pocket, ready to step forward.

“What are you doing?” Yun Hao asked angrily.

“Too pitiful—give them some money for food.”

“If you pity them, why are you digging in my pockets? If anyone’s handing out favors, it’ll be me!” Yun Hao was irritated, leaping up to slap Qi Biao.

“Hey, stop fighting and look!” Lai Shun interrupted the scuffle.

Scoundrels lurked everywhere. Yun Hao had seen countless scenes in movies where evil gangs oppressed the innocent. A group of shifty, tattooed toughs clustered around a towering brute. The little girl, seeing them, immediately hid behind Zhang Tianbao.

“Zhang Tianbao, your brother owed us money. Now that he’s dead, I’ll have to sell his daughter to settle the debt. Children pay their parents’ debts—it’s only right. Not only did you stop us, but you hurt my brother. Today, we’ll settle this once and for all!” The burly man’s voice boomed, clearly a trained fighter.

“Ground Dragon, killing is no more than a tap to the head. My brother borrowed fifty coins, and in a year you’ve compounded it to a whole string of cash. Why not just rob? My brother and his wife were meek, bullied until they hanged themselves. Now there’s only a white-haired mother and a nursing orphan left, and you still won’t let go. Even if I end up in court today, I’ll beat you to death!” Zhang Tianbao grabbed a stick from the pancake stall and strode toward Ground Dragon.

“Heh heh! Do you take me for a fool? Bring her up!” No sooner had he spoken than two tattooed thugs dragged out a half-elderly woman with graying hair from the corner of the street. A gleaming knife glinted at her neck.

“Zhang Tianbao, if you move, I’ll spill your sworn brother’s mother’s blood. Aren’t you all about loyalty? Let’s see if you care about her life. Get him...!” Ground Dragon sneered, waving his hand. The tattooed thugs surged forward.