Chapter 303

Wang Xiujin had never imagined that one day he could run so fast, his speed rivaling that of a hundred-meter sprinter. Bursting out from the inner courtyard straight toward the gates, he couldn’t wait for the servants to hitch the carriage and simply dashed toward the city gate instead. Breathless when he arrived, he glared at the city guards, his eyes nearly aflame, and stammered, “Is there... is there good news... to report?”

“Yes, sir, there’s indeed good news. Just now, a messenger came to report that our troops fighting at sea have achieved a great victory and will soon return to the capital,” the soldier replied, cupping his fists in salute. Though Wang Xiujin seldom approached directly in recent days, he would come by every day, always bringing tea and snacks. If these had come from anyone else, the soldiers would never have accepted them, but since this was the renowned Imperial Merchant, there was no harm in accepting his offerings. Thus, they came to know the famous merchant whom they had only ever heard of.

“Good!” A smile broke out on Wang Xiujin’s face, so wide he could not suppress it. He slapped a silver note onto the table. “Take this and buy refreshments for the men—absolutely no wine!” He turned to leave, his steps a little unsteady; he nearly tripped, but fortunately, the carriage that had hurried after him arrived in time. A servant rushed forward to help him into the carriage. “Young master, where to?”

“Home,” Wang Xiujin replied, settling into the carriage, unable to hold back his laughter. They were coming home—at long last, they were coming home. “Later, go to the manor and bring back some beef and mutton. We'll have hotpot today. The rest, let the steward distribute among the servants.” The coachman responded promptly, already considering what other dishes he might add.

Arriving at the residence, Wang Xiujin disembarked and urged the servants to hurry ahead, choosing to knock on the door himself. The gatekeeper, seeing the young master return with joy on his face, hurried to greet him. Wang Xiujin waved him off, said little, and went to find the steward, finally sharing the good news. The steward immediately ran to inform the old master and sent messages to the other courtyards.

Back in his own rooms, Wang Xiujin found it hard to quell his excitement. Having lived two lifetimes, he had never before run wildly through the streets like this. It was a little embarrassing, yet also amusing. He rubbed his face, trying to smooth out the joy that was so obvious in his expression, but with little success. As he thought of the troops returning in triumph, Wang Xiujin considered whether he ought to find a pretext to visit the harbor.

The conquest of Kou was easier than expected, especially after capturing their emperor. The Kou royal family, for all their faults, had somehow never lost their throne, even surviving a female monarch, and the people had never rebelled; the family’s hold on power remained unbroken. In order to preserve their dynasty, the Kou royals had fallen into severe inbreeding to keep the throne within their line.

The army, following imperial orders, left no survivors—driving the Kou people into the sea or annihilating them entirely. The vanguard attacked, while the reinforcements swept through to clean up. From north to south, east to west, what was expected to be a year-long campaign ended in just a few months. For such a small country to harbor ambitions of conquering the Great Liang—where did they get such audacity?

Once the war ended, the final cleanup was not the reinforcements’ task. Li Linshan led his troops to board a ship back to Great Liang early. They suffered no casualties, and even the vanguard met little fierce resistance—fewer than a hundred wounded, a historic low. As they boarded, Li Linshan looked back at Kou—no, soon to be Great Liang’s great island. People from Liang would soon relocate here, and a new sea wall would be built around it, adding another line of defense to the heartland.

Upon receiving news that the army would soon return, Wang Xiujin took his son and left the capital under the pretense of inspecting the marine harvest. Anyone in the capital with any sense knew this was just an excuse—after all, who would bring their son along to inspect fisheries unless the child wasn’t to follow the Li family’s martial path? Was he to become a merchant instead? The thought was fleeting; even if Wang Xiujin himself said so, no one would believe it. Everyone watched with anticipation, waiting to see what kind of man the young master of the Li family would become, educated by Lord Wang himself and, it was said, taught battlefield experience by Old General Li. Talented in both civil and military affairs, such a boy would never become a merchant. Impossible.

Neither Wang Xiujin nor Li Linshan knew of these expectations. Even if they did, they would likely just smile. It was impossible not to hope for their son’s future, especially given his intelligence, but they did not demand great achievements. They only hoped he could uphold the Li family’s honor and prevent its decline in his hands. As for future generations, that was too far off to worry about.

Yachang dozed, leaning against his young father, while Wang Xiujin covered him with a blanket. Travel was much easier now than in the past. He remembered his own trip to the capital, when it was unthinkable to sleep on the road. Now, with smooth highways, a good carriage barely jolted at all. From time to time, he lifted the curtain to look at the scenery, reflecting on his journey to Great Liang, with its ups and downs, but always true to his conscience. The nation was prosperous, its people wealthy. He dared not claim great credit, but he had added his brick to the edifice, and that was enough.

The carriage sped to the coast, but the army had not yet landed. Wang Xiujin took his son by the hand and walked barefoot on the soft sand. Those who lived here would not feel the same leisure—perhaps they would think him mad—and he laughed at the thought. He sent a servant to borrow a bucket from the locals, planning to dig for sea creatures with his son.

One need not go into the sea to gather its bounty; much could be found along the shore, though not as abundant. Yachang played with wild abandon, forgetting all the etiquette his grandfather had taught him, hands and feet covered in mud, his face and clothes quickly soiled, but he was utterly delighted. “Little father, little father!” he called endlessly, running to and fro, no sign of a young master, just an ordinary child.

A servant tried to intervene, but Wang Xiujin gave him a stern look, so he could only stand at a distance, worried for nothing. Wang Xiujin believed children should play freely—if they acted like little adults every day, were they still children? Father and son played merrily, though their haul was modest. Wang Xiujin found his son had collected more than he, and praised him generously, then had the servant prepare their catch. They bathed in a large tub, washing away the sand and mud. The fun was in the play; the cleaning was a headache. It took three changes of water before they were clean. Yachang stuck out his tongue at his young father, who pinched his nose, and they both burst out laughing.

“Little father, little father!” Yachang called, throwing himself into Wang Xiujin’s arms. Wang Xiujin carefully dried his son’s hair with a towel, responding to each call, his smile deepening. “When your father returns and hears you call me that, you’ll be sent to practice boxing as punishment.”

Yachang made a face, then quickly composed himself, resuming his little-adult demeanor. Wang Xiujin found it amusing and pinched his cheeks. “Come, let’s eat.”

Perhaps they had enjoyed themselves too much, for Wang Xiujin was soon felled by seafood once again, making several desperate trips to the latrine. Yachang turned pale with fright. The servant summoned a doctor, and Yachang, fearing someone might harm his little father, insisted the medicine be prepared in the room where he could watch. The servant had no choice but to obey.

Wang Xiujin patted his son’s head, reflecting on the child’s strong sense of caution—whether this was good or bad, he could not say. He resolved not to indulge his appetite again; a moment’s pleasure brought a day of suffering, and now he had to drink bitter medicine.

He had intended to welcome Li Linshan’s triumphant return, but while the main force landed, Wang Xiujin was lying ill in the inn. Yachang refused to leave his side. Wang Xiujin tried to send him out to look around, but Yachang stubbornly refused and would not allow the servants to go either, reasoning that since his father was still with the army, they should not cause him worry or leave camp without permission.

After disembarking, Li Linshan considered sending a swift messenger to the capital, but reasoned the family must already know of their return and longed for his homecoming. He declined the local officials’ invitations, had his troops camp by the sea, and planned to set out for the capital at dawn.

Local officials, knowing the Imperial Merchant was in town, were eager to curry favor, but upon learning he had taken ill with food poisoning and was not receiving visitors, they abandoned their plans, fearing to incur his wrath. With the army’s return, the officials decided to pretend ignorance of the merchant’s arrival and did not inform Vice General Li.

Thus, the family of three, who ought to have reunited at the port, missed each other entirely. The soldiers, refreshed after a night’s rest, set out in formation. Meanwhile, Wang Xiujin, somewhat recovered, sent a servant with a message for Li Linshan, but the man soon returned—the army had already departed for the capital.

Wang Xiujin felt both frustrated and stifled. Yachang glared at the servant, who shrank into a corner. Wang Xiujin ruffled his son’s hair. “Enough, let your little father recover, and then we’ll return to the capital. I refuse to believe our carriage can’t catch up with an army on foot.”

Eager to return, Wang Xiujin soon recovered fully. Yachang insisted the doctor check his father’s pulse once more before agreeing, with a stern face, to set out for the capital. Even as the carriage flew along, he said nothing.

But no matter how fast they traveled, they could not overtake the army. When they arrived at the city gates, Li Linshan was already there, waiting. Wang Xiujin sat inside the carriage, Li Linshan standing outside. Their eyes met, and Wang Xiujin sensed that Li Linshan’s mood was not altogether cheerful.

The author has something to say: This foolish author honestly didn’t mean to end it here, but couldn’t stop—now I want to cry.