Chapter Twenty: The First Pot of Gold

“You old bastard, weren’t you acting high and mighty just now?” Yang Lian was no saint. Having been beaten and cursed by Li Xiongxin earlier, he’d had a fire smoldering in his chest for some time. And now the old man had tried to ambush him, making Yang Lian feel even more aggrieved—how could he swallow this anger?

Before Li Xiongxin could reply, Yang Lian leapt forward and kicked him hard in the chest. Li Xiongxin rolled across the ground twice, pain tearing through him, feeling as if his ribs were broken. But he couldn’t afford to care. Crawling forward, he knelt before Princess Huairou and said, “Your Highness, I thought this was a runaway servant from the Prince of Qi’s household…”

“Even if he were, you have no right to insult him,” Princess Huairou replied coldly. Yang Lian’s kick had been swift and ruthless, exactly as she would have liked. If not for her concern for appearances, she would have applauded him.

Li Xiongxin was momentarily speechless. He had expected this delicate-looking princess to be kinder, but she was anything but gentle.

Yang Lian stepped closer, grabbed Li Xiongxin by the collar, and said, “You may plead ignorance, but unfortunately you’ve offended me. Do you remember what I said before?”

“Not to show up in Jinling?” Li Xiongxin replied, his voice trembling.

“That was just part of it. The next sentence is just as important,” Yang Lian reminded him.

“Every time I see you, I’ll beat you?” Li Xiongxin struggled to recall Yang Lian’s words.

“Exactly! That’s it.” Yang Lian smiled, gripping Li Xiongxin’s collar with one hand and slapping his face hard several times with the other.

Li Xiongxin was beaten dizzy, unable to think straight. His cheeks burned, and his nose seemed to be bleeding.

The coachman called Little Black and the two burly men were likewise sprawled on the ground, their bodies trembling. Yang Lian’s ferocious expression terrified them. The princess’s guards, fully armed and their blades gleaming with murderous intent, only made things more intimidating. These so-called wandering knights were, truthfully, just local thugs—bullying commoners was one thing, but they wouldn’t dare confront the Prince of Qi’s guards.

Yang Lian’s body hadn’t fully recovered yet, and after being drugged and tied up by Li Xiongxin, his strength was lacking. After a dozen blows, he was out of breath and had to stop.

“Sir, I was blind and ignorant. Please spare my life, sir—I’m willing to offer compensation, compensation!” Li Xiongxin pleaded, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

“How do you propose to compensate?” Yang Lian asked, intrigued.

“I’m willing to offer ten strings of cash as an apology,” Li Xiongxin said after a moment’s thought.

Southern Tang’s prices were low; ten strings of cash amounted to about ten taels of silver. Yang Lian chuckled—this old man was shrewd. He laughed, “Old man, I’m a scholar. How could I take your money?”

“That’s good, that’s good,” Li Xiongxin whispered, barely audible, relieved.

“Old man, your inn stands by the banks of Qinhuai River, willows swaying, a beautiful spot,” Yang Lian chuckled.

“If you like it, sir, stay as long as you wish. I won’t charge you!” Li Xiongxin quickly offered.

“A few days? No, I intend to stay for a year or two at least,” Yang Lian shook his head.

“If you don’t mind, even seven or eight years is fine,” Li Xiongxin replied, hastily adding, “No charge.” He thought, how could Yang Lian possibly stay at the inn for seven or eight years?

“How could I accept without paying?” Yang Lian smiled faintly, pulling two coins from his pocket and placing them in Li Xiongxin’s hand, whispering, “Your inn is mine now, renamed Yang’s.”

Li Xiongxin trembled. This young man wanted to buy his inn with two coins—what a shameless act. But when he looked up and saw Princess Huairou’s angry, beautiful face, fear gripped him. The princess seemed very grateful to this benefactor. Showing disrespect to Yang Lian was disrespecting the princess, and disrespecting her was disrespecting the Prince of Qi—a crime too grave to bear.

“If you refuse, I’ll let you taste bamboo shoots with pork, or maybe dumplings,” Yang Lian whispered, a smile on his face.

Li Xiongxin shuddered. He didn’t know what bamboo shoots with pork or dumplings meant, but it couldn’t be good. He touched his bruised face, remembering it was the princess who hit him. His complexion paled, regret flooding his heart. But regret was useless now. Yang Lian was determined to buy his inn for two coins—a terrible deal.

Had he known, he would have waited for Yang Lian to return, confirmed his identity, and gone to the Prince of Qi’s manor—how could things have turned out like this? Li Xiongxin shook his head repeatedly, cursing his own stupidity.

Princess Huairou, unable to hear Yang Lian’s words from behind, asked curiously, “What are you doing?”

Yang Lian turned, smiling, “The old man said he’d treat me to tea.” Turning back, he added, “You’ve seen the princess’s methods. If I speak up, not only will you lose your inn, your whole family might lose their lives in Jinling.”

Li Xiongxin sighed, resigned to swallow the bitter fruit he’d sown. The princess, silent and quick to strike, was indeed more terrifying than Yang Lian. He managed a bitter smile, saying, “Sir, I have aged parents and young children…”

“Stop right there! Say another word and you’ll have nothing—not even a coin. Your whole family will end up in prison, left to starve,” Yang Lian interrupted coldly.

Li Xiongxin moved his lips, swallowing his grievances, but had no choice. He nodded, “Thank you for your mercy, sir.”

“Now that’s more like it.” Yang Lian stood slowly, looking at the two burly men and Little Black, “From today, you three will follow me.”

“Ah?” Little Black was startled, looking at Yang Lian and then Li Xiongxin, unsure what to say.

“You’ll follow him from now on,” Li Xiongxin waved his hand, limping to the carriage, agony wracking his broken ribs.

“And you two? Have you decided? You hit me just now,” Yang Lian said calmly.

One of the men glanced at the guards behind Yang Lian, knowing that resistance meant a beating at best. The innkeeper had already given in; how could he argue? He hurriedly said, “Sir, you are generous. We’re willing to follow you.”

As soon as one answered, the other quickly echoed him. Yang Lian was pleased, asked their names—the one who punched him was Wang Hu, the other Zhao Peng. He waved them up and studied them closely. Both were tall and sturdy, about eight feet, not short for the era. With their muscular builds, they could serve as guards or laborers if needed—a bargain.

Seeing Yang Lian stroking his chin and smiling, the two men trembled, a little frightened by the sinister smile.

“Head back to the inn first; I’ll come by later,” Yang Lian ordered.

The three obeyed, and Little Black drove the carriage back to the inn.

“You dare smile? You actually tried sneaking away!” Princess Huairou was furious at Yang Lian’s demeanor, cracking her whip a few times, its sound sharp and chilling.

“What do you mean sneaking away? I left openly. Didn’t I do something before I left?” Yang Lian blinked, unafraid, feigning deep thought.

Princess Huairou blushed at his words. This shameless scoundrel had insulted her several times—she had to teach him a lesson. She was still thinking of a suitable punishment.

As she pondered, a eunuch hurried over, approaching the princess. “Your Highness, the Prince wishes to see you.”

Princess Huairou rolled her eyes, replying impatiently, “I know.”

The eunuch smiled apologetically, “Your Highness, the Prince has urgent business.”

“Enough, enough,” Princess Huairou pouted. “Don’t rush me; I’m going right away.” She glanced at Yang Lian, “Wait here for me. If you disobey, I’ll flay you.”

Yang Lian waved her off, “Go on, then.” Watching the princess dash inside, Yang Lian smiled and walked away, unconcerned.

Princess Huairou rushed into the prince’s manor, entered the back hall, and found her father pacing in the courtyard, hands folded behind his back, deeply troubled.

“Your daughter greets Father,” Princess Huairou said.

“Ah, my precious girl, you’re here,” Li Jingsui smiled, his mood lifting at the sight of his daughter.

“Father, what were you thinking about just now?” Princess Huairou asked.

“Nothing, just some trifles,” Li Jingsui replied with a smile. These matters, he did not wish to share with his daughter.

“Father, your daughter is grown now, no longer a child. I can help shoulder your worries,” Princess Huairou said earnestly.

“Good, good, my girl is the most sensible,” Li Jingsui reached out, gently tapping her delicate nose, his expression doting. In this moment, he was not the Prince of Qi, nor the second most powerful man in Southern Tang, but simply a father who cherished his daughter.

Princess Huairou frowned slightly, whispering, “If he were here, he could surely solve this.” The events of a few days ago replayed in her mind. Though she was still annoyed at him for hitting her, she knew full well that the clever Yang Lian had saved her. Perhaps he could help her father as well?

Li Jingsui asked curiously, “He? Who is he?”

“The one who saved me—the person I told you about,” Princess Huairou replied.

“Oh?” Li Jingsui grew interested. His daughter had mentioned it yesterday, but after a long day, she was exhausted, so he had only asked briefly. Now, hearing her mention Yang Lian again, his curiosity was piqued. “Tell me exactly what happened the other day. I want to hear it.”

Princess Huairou recounted the events at Henglin Town in detail. Though she lacked eloquence, the story itself was gripping. Yang Lian had struck at the right moment, wounded the third assailant, and instead of lingering, chose to escape. Later, when the carriage broke down, he used the dense forest to outmaneuver their pursuers, then set a trap using a beast snare to kill the second attacker. Luck played a part, but his courage and ingenuity were extraordinary, successfully capturing Li Jingsui’s attention.

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