ITIEQ C96

Chapter 96 (Extra) — IF Route

“Where were you fooling around today?”

Shen Qinghe halted and turned back; a half-rolled bamboo blind hung from the corridor. Lady Qin stood there quietly, her hands holding those of her son and daughter.

“You were waiting for me?” Shen Qinghe stopped. Now that was rare.

Lady Qin had meant to scold him roundly, then thought of something and suddenly softened. “A promotion edict has arrived from the capital. Our whole household will move to the capital. You’re almost sixteen; before long your rank should be recorded. How can you still carry on like an unruly child?”

Shen Qinghe shivered, gooseflesh rising.

“Mm. Then I’m at ease. Is there anything else, Madam? As you see, I’m quite busy.”

“This long road north—mountains high and rivers long—there will be many places that require money… Could you spare some?” To ask a junior for silver stung her pride, but she steadied herself quickly. “Besides, the registry officials will need ‘attention.’ It is for your long-term prospects.”

His birth mother’s dowry and estate—these people had coveted them for who knows how long. Shen Qinghe gave a cutting little laugh and, feigning innocence, said, “My ambitions aren’t there; no need to grease palms for me. My younger brother is only a few years behind me—Madam should think more for him!”

Seeing him turn and go, Lady Qin’s face flushed and paled by turns. She spat, “You little whelp!”

That Shen Qinghe could become landlord of half a street was not because his father was a chief clerk, but because of the great sum of silver and shops his mother had brought while alive. His maternal grandfather was a tea merchant wealthy as a little prince—poor in everything but money—and compared to the pack of jackals in the chief clerk’s house, only Grandfather had a few drops of genuine feeling. Add Shen Qinghe’s sweet tongue and some odd, golden ideas that made money—he had quickly become the old man’s treasure on the palm of his hand.

“Host, I recommend you make some… preparations.”

“This era isn’t what you suppose. If your official grade is fixed, you can forget about rising through the bureaucracy. Money you can still make, but miss this window and it won’t come again.”

“I know.” Shen Qinghe checked the contents of his case one by one and locked it carefully. “I don’t intend to grind up the ladder in officialdom.”

The System shrieked. “You promised me you’d complete the tasks properly!”

“Don’t wail. I never said I wouldn’t do it. I have my way.”

Shen Qinghe could feel the System’s voice fly out of his head and circle from left ear to right. “And what way is that?” It did not believe him; its host had been “off-track” for years.

“The Prince of Dingxi is in Guantao. Drive north and we can reach him in five days.”

“?”

“I’m going to invest… in him. Enter his service as a strategist. That’ll be faster.”

“You’re going to rebel?!”

“Hey, keep your voice down.” No one heard, but Shen still startled. He scratched his ear. “I’m already wearing traveler’s clothes—doesn’t that saying go, ‘A transmigrator who doesn’t rebel is like rotten cabbage’?”

“…”

“Rumor says the Prince of Pingxi honors men of talent—buys them with a thousand gold. Worst case, if he doesn’t fancy me as a person…” Shen patted his bundle. “I have money. ‘Joining with funds’—who would turn away hard silver?”

It was the System’s first time meeting such a “rebellious” host. Such cases weren’t unheard of, but with its knowledge base, who would leave the broad official road to squeeze onto a single-log bridge?

Shen changed into brocade, slung the pack, and with a fifteen-year-old’s bright gaze said, “Let me bid Grandfather farewell—then we set off for Guantao!”

At that age, he brimmed with dash and the light to shatter dawn.

…Only to be cut short en route.

Shen reeled and nearly vomited. “This map… is from the wrong century… urgh…”

Plainly the chart marked a small city here, yet when he looked—there wasn’t even a city foundation.

The donkey brayed “ah-ah-ah-ah,” and Shen flopped on the handcart, throwing down his reins. “I quit.”

“Host, is this your ‘great enterprise’?” The System snickered.

“Who knew the roads would be this bad.” He had chosen the main road, only to meet blockages at every bend; he’d “changed routes” who knew how many times. Even the donkey panted hard.

He tied it under a tree to rest and lay on the cart with a straw hat over his face. Hoofbeats pricked the air—light and fast. He jolted, slid behind the trunk, and spotted a small squad riding in, the leader in deep blue—seven parts familiar.

Wasn’t that the one from the clinic, and later the bandit nest!

“I knew doing good turns would pay off—and so quickly.”

The youth lifted his makeshift flag, waved it hard, and shouted, “Young lord! Young lord! The one in blue!”

The gentleman in blue turned; Shen waved harder.

Xiao Yuanzheng tugged the reins; the horse tossed its head and snorted, then stopped a丈 away.

“I…”

Yao Guang rode up and recognized him, taking in the sight. “Why do you look like a beggar? Where’s your silk robe? Your page?” Suspicious: “Did you find out our route and lie in wait?”

“Tch, petty mind!” Shen hopped off the cart. “I’m headed to Guantao—could you spare me a ride?”

The men traded glances.

Xiao Yuanzheng smiled and asked, “Guantao is rich and bustling—a fine place for trade. How could I miss it?” Shen smiled back. “Pray give me a lift. When I’m prosperous, I won’t forget your help today.”

Looking at him, they didn’t buy his promises. “That’s not what you said before—why should we help you?”

“Er.” His mind turned; he blurted, “At first sight I felt aligned—we were friends at first sight; it’s hatred that we met so late; high mountains, flowing waters—meeting a kindred soul.”

The youth edged closer—then took a cautious step back from the tall horse, still declaiming with feeling: “Drifting half a life—only regretting not meeting a confidant. If you don’t despise me, I would be your sworn brother—is that… good, elder brother?”

Yao Guang was so shocked by his brazenness he almost fell off his horse, grinding his molars. “…There’s truly nothing you won’t say.”

Xiao Yuanzheng looked him over a few times. “Come.”

“Brother Xiao! Bringing along a rootless stray—” Yao Guang began.

Shen, fearing a change of heart, wheeled to argue. “Hey, now that’s not fair. Back in Changzhou you were the murkier one. I was plenty righteous, then.”

“Besides, look at Brother Xiao—he’s no ingrate.” Shen pivoted to charm and flashed a grin. “Right, Brother Xiao?”

One “brother” after another, as if they were lifelong kin. Yao Guang rolled a hundred eyes inside. How could there be such a shameless creature!

Xiao Yuanzheng let out a short, amused huff. “Come.”

The donkey-rider’s posture stiffened; Xiao patted the horse and crooked a finger.

This horse was much taller than cart-pullers. Shen hesitated and grinned weakly. “I think… better not.”

“Too slow. Two days and two nights won’t get you to Guantao,” Xiao said coolly.

Shen’s gaze seesawed between the big horse and the little donkey, then he sidled over, thinking how to mount. A hand grabbed his collar—one lift—and he was on the horse.

“Hey! You—you—”

Before he recovered, he was astride, back pressed to another’s chest, two hands reaching through his arms to hold the reins—the closeness leaving him unsure where to put his limbs.

Xiao had him neatly pinned, an ill-meaning curl at his lip. “I what?”

Shen swallowed the curse. “…You’re very strong.”

The man behind bent to his ear, lowering his voice with relish. “I will, of course, look after my younger brother.”

Shen pretended not to hear, chuckling dryly. Had he just lifted a rock to smash his own foot…?

Riding was indeed swift. Without pause, jouncing on and on, until Guantao rose ahead. When he dismounted, Shen’s legs forgot how to walk; his thighs ached to the bone—shuffling in tiny steps.

Too cruel! He looked tearfully at the unbothered Xiao and companions. Were their backsides made of iron?

Business done shabbily, but their hearts were good—they “sent the Buddha to the west” and took him into the city.

“Here.” A small cool vial tapped his brow. The culprit had a conscience—offering medicine. “For bruises.”

Shen glanced at Xiao, accepted it, and thanked him.

“It’s late—won’t bother you. Goodbye.” Rubbing his back, he still smiled with crescent eyes. Xiao gave no reply; Shen shot away.

Goodbye? In a world this wide—never see you again.

Two meetings, two mishaps—bad luck. Best not to meet. With that thought, he found the nearest inn and collapsed, out before his head touched the pillow. In his dream he planned how to present himself to the Prince of Pingxi; after finishing the task, he’d live as freely as he wished…

…

“Yuxi, there’s a guest—try some manners.”

The Prince of Pingxi rubbed his brow as his sister burst in, the bead curtain snapping behind him.

Xiao Yuxi wore a pomegranate-red dress, flaming bright. She took one glance at the man across the desk and restrained herself—somewhat. “I heard cousin came; he’s no outsider. And my lack of rules isn’t new—brothers, forgive me.”

Their talk was about done. The prince waved her to his side. “Anzhi said several times she couldn’t teach you sense. Did you anger her?”

“That woman’s ‘Female Models and Quick Lessons’—I can’t hear a word! Brother, don’t leave her here to torment me!”

“You…” The prince sighed and turned to nod at his cousin. “Forgive her.”

Xiao Yuanzheng did not smile. “You keep a scholar in your house?” The prince’s love of handsome men was well known. He himself had a fine face, was witty, generous—and his tales in Guantao were always told as elegant love affairs.

The prince only smiled and shifted the topic. “Didn’t think you’d arrive so fast. Do you find Guantao agreeable?”

Xiao tipped his cup; clear wine slipped down, his look troubled. “Agreeable or not—when someone’s an eyesore, you won’t be comfortable to the ends of the earth.”

The prince’s eyes dimmed. He snapped his fingers; Xiao Yuxi yelped as he flicked her head. “Eavesdropping? What girl behaves like this? When you marry, pity the poor husband.”

“I won’t marry. Those wastes—none are worth a finger.”

The siblings bickered; Xiao Yuanzheng drummed his knee, drinking alone as flowers blazed outside the curtain. The noise pricked his ear. He was fortunate not to have such a willful sister.

“Your Guantao is lively.”

“Then stay a few days,” the prince replied.

“No. Once business is done, I head back to the Northwest.”

They both knew what that “business” meant. Prince Ying controlled the middle court and toyed with the Emperor’s power. Of late he had goaded outlying princes again and again. Everyone saw his intent.

Xiao could still resist—but his full brother had already been targeted. As a widely esteemed prince, Pingxi suffered no less.

The prince sobered. A confidant entered to report, halting what he had meant to say. His face turned displeased.

“What?”

“A man outside, asking to enter your service.”

“Handle it—you needn’t report.” Such men came often; quality varied and needed testing. With guests today and a brazen intrusion, the prince’s temper soured.

The servant hesitated, then, under his master’s gaze, stammered, “He says he has a treasure for the lord—claims it’s a miraculous drug that clears the mind and pulls lives back from the brink.” All present looked up.

The prince’s interest rose. “Oh?”

“Seems our prince shares a taste with the Emperor—fond of itinerant adepts,” Xiao swirled his cup and smirked. “You have a great name—must have seen not a thousand, then a hundred.”

Stung, the prince lost interest at once. He waved a hand. “Send him away.”

The servant withdrew—and soon returned, bearing two oil-paper packets. The household was famed for loving the talented; receiving the prince’s support, they, too, tried to help—unwilling to miss a true gift. “The man refused to leave and asked that I bring these in. He said, ‘If you don’t believe—try and you will know.’”

They spread the packets on the table: in one, a thick, greenish paste that gleamed faintly; in the other, a black powder like soot.

“‘Adept’ is generous. He hasn’t even done surface work—likely a charlatan,” Xiao said with a glance. “As it happens, I’m here.” He gestured to the servant. “Bring him in. I’ll teach him a lesson for you—and make sure he leaves.”

A trifle—neither man deigned to care. Only Xiao Yuxi, still peeking, pinched a bit of powder and was rapped on the head. “Don’t touch everything. Behave.”

She stuck out her tongue, but wiped her hands clean.

Spring glowed in layered greens along the corridor, with bright blossoms tucked within. Xiao narrowed his eyes: from the screen of leaves, a light-footed figure like a forest deer approached.

Looked… familiar?

Beyond the bead curtain, a youthful face, still tender, wavered into view. Xiao’s heart said “well, well,” and he smiled with relish.

They had indeed met before.

Footnotes:

1. “Fixing rank” (定品): In certain historical bureaucracies, a family’s or individual’s “grade” could be recorded early, shaping lifelong career ceilings; here it implies a rigid caste-like assignment affecting official prospects. 
2. “Joining with funds” (带资进组): Modern-leaning quip meaning “bringing one’s own funding to join a team,” humorously applied to courting a patron. 
3. “Prince of Dingxi/Pingxi” (定僖/平僖郡王): Fictional princes with fiefs; titles echo historical naming conventions, where “Ping” or “Ding” plus a virtue indicated a princely rank tied to a region. 
4. “Thousand gold for a steed” (千金买马): Allusion to patronage of talent (parodying “a thousand gold for a fine horse”), meaning lavishly recruiting able men. 
5. “High mountains and flowing waters” (高山流水): Idiom for recognizing a kindred spirit, from the friendship of Yu Boya and Zhong Ziqi in Chinese lore. 
6. “Pulling souls back to life” (吊命还魂): Hyperbolic claim of miracle medicine—common in itinerant healer tropes; here it foreshadows gunpowder/salves Shen uses as “demonstrations.”