Chapter 6: Chapter 6, Chapter 67: You Can't Spend Too Little Money

Chapter 6: You Can’t Spend Too Little

To monsters and certain humans, these strips of dried meat were delicious little snacks.

The father and son, along with Uncle Hao and the steward, searched intently, but finding nothing that caught their eye, they had no choice but to give up.

He Lingchuan lowered his head and took a quiet look at the necklace around his neck.

This object was strange; it was no longer the original version. He had repeatedly considered whether to hand it over, but a voice in the depths of his heart kept warning him: Never show it to anyone!

This premonition was so intense that after struggling for a long time, he decided to follow his intuition.

"Take these back, and keep those two guards under the custody of the Red-White Path. That’s right, I remember the Red-White Path has a farm in the southern suburbs. It’s the off-season now, so there shouldn't be anyone near the farm. Lingchuan, do you understand?...Yes, good, go after dinner. Make it look clean." He Chunhua turned to Uncle Hao. "A-Hao, you stay behind."

He Lingchuan accepted the order and left, while Uncle Hao remained where he was.

Once the eldest son of the He household disappeared behind the porch, He Chunhua said to Uncle Hao, "Tell me exactly what happened today, from beginning to end."

Uncle Hao recounted everything, without adding or omitting a single detail.

He Chunhua nodded after hearing it and let him leave.

The seasoning room fell silent. He Chunhua stared at the leopard carcass on the table, lost in thought for a long time.

Steward Wu waited nearby, and only after two incense sticks had burned down did he speak up to remind him: "Master, it is time for dinner."

The Prefect gave a hum. "What do you make of this?"

"The Eldest Young Master may seem reckless, but his response was actually quite sound," Steward Wu smiled. "Those two guards shouldn't have been left running around the city, asking questions."

"The little rascal has finally started to use his head. It seems his serious injury this time was a blessing in disguise," the Prefect sighed softly.

"Master, you were originally worried about the Eldest Young Master’s sudden change in temperament, but now you can rest easy."

"Indeed," He Chunhua said softly. "Let’s go, it’s time for dinner."

￥￥￥￥￥

No matter how much the Prefect longed for his homeland, and no matter how much the He residence resembled the style of the capital, they still had to bow to reality when it came to their three daily meals, eating much like the locals of Blackwater City.

After all, those who live on the mountain live off the mountain, those who live by the water live off the water, and those who live on the soil must eat the soil.

He Lingchuan was tucking into half a boiled lamb leg. This was truly boiled in clear water, with at most a few chunks of ginger and knotted scallions added to remove the gamey smell.

Clear boiling brought out the original flavor. The lamb was crisp and springy, and when dipped in a bit of seasoned pepper and spicy salt, it was incredibly fresh—He Lingchuan did the honors himself, slicing a piece, dipping it, and eating it, sighing with satisfaction.

The cook hired by the Prefect’s mansion only used large-horned sheep under a year and a half old. These sheep liked to roam the Gobi, often eating herbs like dandelions and skullcap, which gave the meat a rich, mellow flavor quite different from their counterparts elsewhere; it was a specialty of the Red Cliff Road.

Sitting beside He Chunhua was a beautiful woman in fine clothes, who scooped up some millet porridge and blew on it twice before drinking it slowly. Her unhurried manner contrasted sharply with He Lingchuan’s hearty eating.

This was He Chunhua’s first wife and the mistress of the He household, Ying Hongchan. She occasionally tasted a piece of lamb, but it had to be trimmed for her by the steward and arranged in an aesthetically pleasing way.

She listened to the conversation between her husband and younger son with a smile, occasionally glancing at He Lingchuan.

Their family of four was all here, complete and together.

He Chunhua was discussing this year’s tax revenue for Qiansong Prefecture with his younger son.

Yes, taxes. One of the favorite topics of the residents of Blackwater City was that the Prefect’s most capable assistant wasn't a seasoned accountant or a brilliant strategist, but his younger son, He Yue, who was not yet fourteen.

This child learned to read at three, could recite three hundred poems by seven, and the following year, the He household sent two accountants to prison—He Yue had been bored and audited the ledgers, uncovering several old bad debts and exposing two fat, greedy parasites.

By the time He Yue was twelve, in addition to his accomplishments in chess, calligraphy, and painting, he began to point fingers at the Prefect’s administration... oh, wait, that was "offering strategic advice."

He Chunhua was no pedantic old scholar; his younger son’s proposals were logical and effective, so he naturally encouraged him with both hands. He Yue grew more confident with each task, even taking on some of his father’s workload.

So, this scene was quite common.

He Lingchuan did not participate in their discussion, not even a word; he just quietly enjoyed his food, as the original owner of the body had done.

He couldn't get a word in anyway.

The He brothers both inherited their father’s good looks. He Lingchuan had sharp features, tall and handsome, while He Yue had delicate brows and eyes, looking more like Lady Ying.

But their characteristics were completely different.

He Yue had a photographic memory, while He Lingchuan, as the eldest son, would inevitably fall asleep within fifteen minutes of reading a book—it was more effective than any sedative.

The only thing more annoying than "the neighbor’s kid" was "my own younger brother is a straight-A student."

It was a comprehensive, no-blind-spot crushing.

"Alright, let’s eat!" Ying Hongchan interrupted the conversation between the two. "If you don't pick up your chopsticks, the food will get cold."

In reality, if they didn't pick up their chopsticks, the food would soon be eaten by He Lingchuan.

He practiced martial arts, and his appetite was more than double that of an ordinary person.

Watching Ying Hongchan personally pick up a soft-fried river shrimp for He Yue, He Lingchuan wiped his hands with a napkin: "Second brother, send a customs clearance document to Liu Baobao’s merchant guild tomorrow. Their caravan is coming back soon, and I don't want them stuck at the Baitong Pass."

"I told you not to call me 'Second brother'!" It sounded terrible, and He Yue truly hated that title. "I was just about to tell you, the Liu merchant guild has two years of carriage taxes in arrears. Including the late fees, it’s about seven hundred taels. They can only get the clearance permit once they pay it in full."

"If that caravan doesn't come back, they can't pay the seven hundred taels," He Lingchuan laughed. "We’re all old acquaintances, let’s make an exception this time. I’ll go and keep an eye on it for you when the time comes."

He Yue wanted to say more, but He Chunhua had already spoken: "No matter, send the document."

With his final word, He Yue could only sulk and glare at He Lingchuan.

What "exception this time"? There had been ten or eight such times already. When had his father ever gone to keep an eye on it? He always forgot as soon as he said it!

Yet, his father always favored his older brother.

He Lingchuan raised his sea buckthorn juice toward him and grinned.

Actually, after a time or two, he had figured it out. This wasn't lining his own pockets; it was doing work for his father. After all, the Prefect held an official position and sometimes found it inconvenient to step forward, so he let his son do the legwork.

"Speaking of which, Big Brother’s expenses for this past month have indeed dropped. You only drew two hundred taels from the mansion, whereas usually, nine hundred wouldn't even cover it," He Yue noted like he was counting family treasures. "However, after you were injured, the medical bills, medicine, and tonics added up to about three hundred taels..."

He Lingchuan’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly feigned impatience: "Got it, got it. I was lying in bed for so long, I didn't have the chance, did I? I know I spent too little; I’ll try harder next month!"

The slip-ups were everywhere. He hadn't expected that even spending less money would make him more suspicious.

Roughly speaking, one tael of silver could be exchanged for a thousand coins, so the Eldest Young Master He’s usual monthly expenses were nine hundred thousand coins!