spoiled brat

Chapter 153, Section 152: The Frost's Startling Touch (Part Two)

"Despicable and hateful." Xie Xiaoqing paused for a moment, "But admirable and awe-inspiring."

Despite the resentment weighing on her heart, Zhao Zhao had to admit that with Li Qingwen's talent and temperament, he would surely rise to a high position in time.

“My mother has a very good eye for making bets,” Zhao Zhao said calmly. “The two men she truly loved in her life were both extraordinary individuals, good candidates for official positions. It’s a pity that they climbed up by stepping on my mother’s flesh and blood, and then looked down on her and called her dirty.”

Now that Yao Niang is dead, she leaves behind a terrible debt that Zhao Zhao must settle. She is often confused, sometimes hating Li Qingwen for his heartlessness, sometimes hating Yao Niang for her poor judgment of character, and most of the time hating the world for dividing people into different classes and forcing everyone to kill each other.

“Li Qingwen is shrewd and quick-witted.” Zhao Zhao composed herself. “Even you know the Ministry of Revenue is poor, how could he not know?”

After her suggestion, Xie Xiaoqing suddenly realized, "That's right. If it's just for show, going once or twice is fine, there's no need to go repeatedly."

“Unless,” Zhao Zhao took a sip of tea, “it’s for his own sake.”

"Himself?" Xie Xiaoqing looked puzzled. "What good would it do him to beg for food? Wouldn't it all just go to the refugees?"

That makes sense, but Zhao Zhao still felt something was off about the polite and courteous manner of Wang Da Dang and Li Qingwen from the Imperial Horse Administration.

She had her suspicions and was unsure what to do, so she pondered and said, "From now on, you should go with him whenever he goes to the Ministry of Revenue."

-

Summer has begun, and the sun is blazing.

Li Qingwen cherished his official robes and didn't sit on the dirty wooden stool. Instead, he picked up a clean stone under the shade of a tree and sat down.

After waiting a while, the boy who went to fetch porridge returned, handed him an earthenware bowl, and complained, "Sir, why do we have to eat and live with these peasants?"

Li Qingwen was not one to talk much in private. He didn't answer, but instead held a bowl of porridge in his left hand and a book in his right, reading intently with his eyes down.

A hot wind blew in their faces, and in the distance, the soup kitchen was filled with the noise of refugees. The little boy wondered if he could concentrate on watching, but he didn't dare to ask any more questions. He picked up the bowl and reluctantly drank a mouthful of soup.

The moment the porridge touched his tongue, the boy vomited it out. He rinsed his mouth with water and spat several times, saying, "Sir..." He looked very aggrieved, "How can we drink this?"

This is coarse bran porridge, the kind used to feed livestock. It has an earthy, bitter taste and is like a clump of uncooked cotton.

Li Qingwen ignored him and continued drinking his porridge and reading. Only when he got annoyed by the noise did he lift his eyes and say, "I can drink it, but you can't?"

The child was intimidated by his gaze and stopped complaining, obediently squatting down to drink his porridge.

The coarse bran porridge was hard to swallow; the little boy would vomit after every bite, and tears would well up in his eyes.

Through teary eyes, he suddenly heard the sound of horse bells in the wind. The boy looked in the direction of the sound and saw a magnificent carriage slowly approaching, with gauze curtains, tassels, and a blue silk roof. He knew it all too well and patted Li Qingwen, saying, "Sir, Miss Jiang has come to see you!"

Li Qingwen frowned, then quickly relaxed, put down his book and bowl, stood up, straightened his clothes, and went to greet them in a neat and tidy manner.

He stopped in front of the carriage and called softly, "A-Ying."

The tone was very gentle, devoid of any intimacy between lovers, but utterly respectful.

A sliver of light appeared through the curtain, revealing a small face full of disgust. Jiang Ying frowned and said, "Qingwen, this wind smells awful."

Li Qingwen looked towards the direction the wind was blowing. Under the scorching sun, wild grass stretched as far as the eye could see. A hundred or so refugees, having finished their meal, were herding horses. He said helplessly, "Keeping horses inevitably produces some odors."

Jiang Ying still looked disgusted, covering her nose with a fan, and said that several of her sisters had invited her to go into the mountains to escape the summer heat, and she wanted to take Li Qingwen with her.

Li Qingwen's eyes lit up. The people traveling with him were all from high-ranking families, so he could make connections there.

Just as he was overjoyed, someone behind him announced loudly, "Lord Li cannot go!"

Xie Xiaoqing suddenly appeared out of nowhere, shoved aside the child blocking his way, and stepped forward righteously and sternly: "The task is not yet completed, how can you abandon your post?"

Li Qingwen cursed the plague god in his heart, but did not refute him on the surface. Xie Xiaoqing pressed his advantage: "Besides, the refugees are eating chaff and sleeping in dilapidated shacks. Lord Li is kind-hearted and will not abandon them."

Jiang Yingcai didn't care about any of that. She frowned and said, "They're not that valuable people. Why should my Qingwen have to accompany them all the time?" She patted the seat and gestured for Li Qingwen to come up: "You can handle things here. Qingwen, come with me."

Li Qingwen adopted a reluctant stance, cupped his hands, and said, "Thank you for your help, young master," before lifting his robe to get into the carriage. Unexpectedly, Xie Xiaoqing said:

"Lord Li, what's that stench about you?"

Li Qingwen didn't take this seriously. He had just changed into clean clothes when he left the city early in the morning. Could they have become smelly just from being blown by the wind?

But then Jiang Ying exclaimed in surprise, pointing at him and saying, "Qingwen, what's that on your butt?"

Li Qingwen looked back following her finger, his usual faint smile freezing on his face—his clothes were stained with a clump of yellow mud that looked like horse manure.

Jiang Ying pinched her nose, her face full of disgust. She looked at Li Qingwen as if he were a dirty dog. She didn't want to hug him or rub him; she just wanted to kick him away.

The maidservant who was driving the carriage was very sensible. She glanced at the sky and hurriedly said, "Miss, it's already late afternoon. If we don't set off soon, we may not be able to get to the mountain before dark."

Jiang Ying nodded and eagerly lowered the curtain, shutting out the stiff-looking Li Qingwen: "Qingwen, I'm leaving now."

The carriage sped away, and Li Qingwen watched the dust gradually settle, chuckled, stiffly turned his neck, and stared straight at Xie Xiaoqing: "Young Master Xie, how old are you?"