However, just as Chen Zui stepped out of the tea stall, before he could intervene in the matter, someone else beat him to it.
“Stop.”
A clear, bright voice called out from the crowd.
A young man descended from the painting boat. He appeared to be around twenty-five or twenty-six years old, dressed in a moon-white long robe with a long sword hanging from his waist. His face was handsome enough, but a faint, frivolous smile played at the corners of his mouth.
Upon seeing him, the guards immediately dropped their arrogant demeanor and respectfully retreated to both sides.
“Second Young Master,” they shouted in unison.
The young man in the moon-white robe walked down, glanced at the tangerines scattered across the ground, and then looked at the old porter being stepped on. His brow furrowed slightly.
“A-Wu, let go.”
His voice wasn't loud, but his tone was cold.
The guard named A-Wu quickly pulled his foot back and retreated to the side.
The young man walked up to the old porter, bent down, and personally picked up a tangerine that had rolled to his feet, handing it back to the old man.
“Thank you, Young Master... thank you, Young Master...”
The old porter was overwhelmed by the unexpected favor. He took it with both hands and thanked him repeatedly.
The young man smiled slightly, straightened up, and casually fished out a piece of broken silver from his waist, placing it in the old porter’s palm.
“Old sir, I’ll buy these tangerines. It’s getting dark; pack up and go home early.”
The old porter stared blankly at the silver in his hand, his eyes suddenly turning red with emotion.
Seeing this, the surrounding crowd erupted into warm applause, everyone nodding in praise of the man.
“This young master is so benevolent and kind-hearted; he truly is a good man.”
“Indeed, indeed. He’s handsome and has a good heart. I wonder which family he’s from.”
“The way he gave that silver without even blinking—you can tell he comes from a prestigious family.”
“...”
Just then, a beggar rushed out from the crowd and grabbed the white-robed young master’s hand. A pair of filthy hands immediately stained the white robe black.
Yet the young master still wore a smile, speaking softly.
“What is it, old sir?”
The old beggar gripped Young Master Tang’s sleeve tightly, tears mixing with the grime on his face to form two muddy tracks. His voice was so choked with emotion he could barely form sentences.
“Young Master Tang, do you still remember this old man? Three months ago, my leg was so rotten you could see the bone. I was lying in a ruined temple outside the city waiting to die.
You saw me while passing by and personally carried me on your back to a clinic. You spent a full thirty taels of silver to hire the best doctor to treat my leg!”
As he reached the emotional peak of his story, his knees buckled as he prepared to kneel and kowtow.
Young Master Tang quickly reached out to support him, but the old beggar clung to his legs, refusing to get up, sobbing and trembling all over.
“Thirty taels of silver!
This old man’s worthless life isn't even worth that much!
But you didn't just pay the silver, Young Master Tang; you even ordered the clinic workers to bring me food and medicine every day for over a month. Only then was my leg saved. You gave me this life!
I’ve dreamed of seeing you again just to kowtow to you! Today, the heavens have opened their eyes and truly let me run into you. Young Master Tang, you are a living Bodhisattva!”
His words were delivered with such heart-wrenching tears that everyone in the crowd was moved.
“It was a trivial matter, not worth mentioning. As scholars, it is our duty to serve the common people. Please, old sir, stand up first.”
As he spoke, his gaze inadvertently swept over the surroundings, seemingly confirming the reaction of the onlookers. When he saw the looks of admiration on everyone’s faces, the curve of his mouth rose another fraction.
Standing at the entrance of the tea stall, Chen Zui watched the scene with an amused arch to his brow.
He was all too familiar with this routine.
Evil servants bully people, and the master settles the trouble. The villain and the hero working in tandem—it was quite a convincing act.
Chen Zui pressed down his bamboo hat and walked toward the center of the crowd.
Seeing him approach directly, the smile on the young man in the moon-white robe faltered slightly before he resumed his refined appearance.
“This friend, how can I help you?”
Chen Zui stopped three paces in front of him and pushed up his hat.
“A fine performance.”
The smile on Young Master Tang’s face froze for a moment, but it returned to normal in an instant.
“What do you mean by that, sir?”
“Nothing much. I just saw how timely your intervention was and couldn't help but want to praise you.”
The corner of the young man’s eye twitched, but his smile didn't fade in the slightest.
“You must be joking. It was merely a small effort on my part.”
“A small effort?” Chen Zui laughed. “You certainly know how to pick your moments. While your subordinates were bullying people, you were drinking and listening to music on the painting boat. Did you have to wait until they incited the crowd's fury before you slowly came down to play the hero?”
The dock immediately fell silent.
The smile finally slipped from Young Master Tang’s face. His expression darkened as he spoke solemnly.
“Sir, do not judge a gentleman’s heart with a petty person’s mind!”
Chen Zui smiled slightly.
“If I’m not mistaken, this old beggar is also someone you hired for the act, right?”
With that, he shifted his gaze from Young Master Tang’s face to the old beggar still kneeling on the ground and wiping away tears.
“You said your leg was so rotten three months ago that the bone was visible, and this Young Master Tang spent thirty taels of silver to have it cured?”
The old beggar looked up, his clouded eyes still filled with tears as he nodded frantically. “Yes, yes! Young Master Tang is a living Bodhisattva! He gave me this life!”
Chen Zui crouched down, his line of sight level with the old beggar’s.
“Then do you remember which clinic in the city it was?”
The old beggar froze for a second before blabbing out, “It... it was Jishi Hall in the east of the city!”
“Jishi Hall.” Chen Zui nodded and asked again, “What was the surname of the doctor who treated your leg?”
“It was...” The old beggar’s eyes instinctively flickered toward Young Master Tang. “It was Wang! Dr. Wang!”
Chen Zui smiled. He stood up, brushed the dust off his knees, and spoke loudly to the crowd.
“You all heard him. This old sir says Young Master Tang spent thirty taels at Jishi Hall in the east of the city to have Dr. Wang cure his rotten leg.”
Then, his tone shifted sharply.
“But as far as I know, there is no Jishi Hall in the east of the city at all. There is, however, one in the west.”
The color drained from the old beggar’s face instantly.
“You... you’re talking nonsense!” His voice trembled, but he tried to hold his ground. “I’m old and remembered the place wrong! It was the west! Jishi Hall in the west!”
“Oh, you remembered it wrong.” Chen Zui wasn't annoyed. “Then what did Dr. Wang look like? Was he fat or thin? Tall or short? Did he have a beard?”
The old beggar opened his mouth, but not a single word came out. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, and his eyes, which had been red and swollen from crying, now darted around frantically like a rat cornered in a wall.
Chen Zui didn't look at him again. He turned to face the onlookers, raising his voice further.
“Everyone, take another look at his leg.”
Everyone’s eyes snapped to the old beggar’s legs. The old beggar instinctively tried to pull his legs back, but Chen Zui grabbed his ankle.
“You said your leg was so rotten you could see the bone, and that was only three months ago.”
Chen Zui applied a bit of force, sliding the beggar’s pant leg up to reveal the calf. The calf was perfectly intact, without even a single scar!
The crowd broke into an uproar.
Rate on N.U.
