The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

Chapter Ninety-Four: The Bloodline of the Lü Family

Even more subtle was the contour of his jawline. The lines were sharp, the angles distinct; it wasn't the thin, gaunt face common among country folk, but rather a square, opulent shape. Lü Sanjun's plump face was the result of years of fat bloating that had filled his frame, yet the underlying structure remained. Wang Zhonghua grew increasingly alarmed, as if he were witnessing a reversal of time, a vision of young Lü Sanjun, stripped of his silk robes and donning coarse cloth, walking along the ridges of the fields.

The boy felt uneasy under his gaze, subconsciously pursing his lips, his Adam's apple bobbing, revealing a patch of skin on his neck—fair skin, starkly different from the tan on his face, a spot usually hidden by his collar. A thought flashed through Wang Zhonghua's mind: Lü Sanjun also had a similar patch of fair skin on the back of his neck, a mark of a pampered life in a wealthy family; even with a tanned face, that patch of skin remained delicate and smooth.

"Similar, yet not similar," Wang Zhonghua murmured to himself. Not similar, because their temperaments are worlds apart; similar, because it's a bloodline imprint that seeps from their very bones, something that can't be stretched out, washed away, or hidden.

"Sidugang? It's not close to Chenzhou City." Wang Zhonghua's tone was calm, as if asking a casual question. "Why did you decide to come to this 'Singing Family' to make a living?"

Lu Wang'er raised his head, his eyes clear, yet tinged with the hardships of life: "Reporting to my master, I... I was adopted by the Taoist priests of the Nuwa Palace in Sidugang after birth, and I barely make a living by doing odd jobs at the Nuwa Palace. Some time ago, I heard that 'Xiange Renjia' was recruiting, with generous wages and good benefits, so I thought I'd give it a try. If I'm hired, I can learn some skills to find my relatives." His words were clear, his attitude neither humble nor arrogant, and although he was somewhat nervous, there was no fawning in his demeanor.

Xihua County? Sidugang? Nuwa Palace? Orphan? Sixteen years old!

These keywords exploded in Wang Zhonghua's mind like thunder! Laomentan is located on the south bank of the Daying River and belongs to Shangshui County, while Sidugang is about 100 miles away from Laomentan and is located on the north bank of the Daying River and belongs to Xihua County. The two places are not too far apart! The ages also match! The clue of "cinnabar mole behind the ear" instantly became incredibly clear and intense!

Wang Zhonghua was inwardly turbulent, but his face remained calm, still wearing a gentle smile as he nodded: "Yes, your filial piety is commendable. Work hard at the restaurant, and you'll have a bright future."

"Thank you, sir!" Lü Wang'er bowed again and returned to the queue.

Wang Zhonghua asked the others a few more questions, then instructed Ma Nao to take them down to familiarize themselves with the tasks so they could help out when the banquet started later.

After everyone left, Wang Zhonghua's smile slowly faded. He glanced at Zhang Simao, who was standing to the side, and ordered in a deep voice, "Simao, the restaurant is doing very well, and it's inevitable that some people will be envious. The kitchen is a crucial area, especially the secret recipes for those stir-fries and the preparation method for 'Drunken Eight Immortals.' Make sure that everyone who knows about them keeps quiet and signs a death contract. If anyone leaks it, remember, no mercy! You must keep a close eye on it yourself, understand?"

Wang Zhonghua knew that in this era, protecting trade secrets required unwavering compassion.

Zhang Simao's expression hardened, and he immediately clasped his hands in a fist salute: "Don't worry, Master! Simao knows what's important. I'd rather lose my head than let a single fly smuggle the secret formula out!"

Wang Zhonghua nodded, then turned his gaze to Du Ziteng, who had been silently following behind him. In a low but authoritative voice, he commanded, "Ziteng, you set off immediately. Take two of your most alert and reliable brothers and ride at top speed to Sidugang in Xihua County! Find Lü Wang'er's mother, protect her closely, and investigate thoroughly. Make sure you get to the bottom of their background, especially the circumstances surrounding Lü Wang'er's birth! Remember, be quick, be secretive, and don't alert anyone!"

A glint flashed in Du Ziteng's eyes, and he immediately understood the urgency of the matter. He whispered, "Understood! Young Master Wang, I'll go right away!" After saying that, he vanished silently from the corner of the courtyard like a ghost.

After arranging everything, Wang Zhonghua finally breathed a sigh of relief, but the weight on his heart remained. Lü Wang'er's appearance was like a key, potentially unlocking a door to immense opportunities or risks.

The noise in the front hall grew increasingly louder, like cold water being poured into a pot of boiling oil, causing it to crackle and pop.

The first to flood in were the local gentry and powerful figures from Chenzhou and the surrounding counties and towns. Most of these men were incredibly wealthy, but perhaps not even officially registered. They usually swaggered around the area, but now they wore lewd smiles that were more like grimaces. The "gifts" they brought were shockingly blatant—chests upon chests of silk and satin, each weighed down with gold ingots; bundles upon bundles of calligraphy and paintings by famous artists, with silver notes rolled inside the scrolls; some even carried whole pigs and sheep, the sheep draped in red silk, the pigs holding gold ingots in their mouths—a display of offerings to the local earth god. Most glaringly obvious were the several mahogany gift boxes, their lids half-open, revealing rows of silver ingots cast in the shape of plum blossoms, gleaming eerily in the sunlight, as if saying, "Young Master Wang, do you think my filial piety is sufficient?"

Wang Zhonghua stood on the steps, smiling and bowing, returning the greetings one by one, but in his heart he knew perfectly well: this was no celebration of victory, but clearly a pledge of allegiance. These old foxes had caught wind of the impending change in Chenzhou and were eager to show their faces to their new master and secure a place in the court.

Before the gentry's excitement had subsided, a group of literati, led by Liu Sanbian, arrived in droves. This group was distinctly different from the former, each of them dressed in flowing robes, exuding an air of aloofness and haughtiness.

Liu Sanbian, arrogant and self-important, possessed unparalleled talent and an air of arrogance that suggested he was the best in the world. His demeanor was even more imposing than that of later top celebrities.

The gifts from the literati were also quite elegant—there were beautifully bound collections of poems and essays, with the inscription "Congratulations to Young Master Wang on his meritorious service in suppressing bandits and bringing peace to the people" written in meticulous small regular script on the title page; there were carefully framed congratulatory couplets, with the first line "A sword's light chills the moon over Chenzhou" and the second line "The spirit of the three armies is strong, and the wind of music is strong" and the horizontal inscription "His merit lies in his hometown," the ink still wet, obviously made overnight; there were also gifts of Huzhou brushes, Huizhou ink, Duan inkstones, and Shexian stone, with the four characters "Tranquility leads to far-reaching influence" engraved on the inkstone, as if subtly reminding Wang Zhonghua: Don't become a warrior and forget your refinement.

Wang Zhonghua accepted these "refined gifts," his smile widening, yet his mind remained clear. He knew all too well what these scholars were planning—they disdained associating with the local gentry, yet wanted to use this occasion to make a name for themselves, and even more so, they wanted to see if this "roughneck hero" was truly a talented poet. If they could establish a connection, they would inevitably become his retainers, enjoying the prestige of having their families and clans share in his glory. His fingertips brushed against the cool Duan inkstone; the inscription "Tranquility Leads to Far-Reaching Vision" pressed against his fingertips, like a silent warning, or perhaps a mocking sneer.

Just as the atmosphere was getting lively, a long, drawn-out announcement came from outside the door: "Lord Chen, the Prefect, has arrived!"

The sound wasn't loud, but it was like a bucket of ice water poured on boiling oil, instantly silencing the front hall. The gentry hurriedly straightened their clothes, and the scholars immediately restrained their arrogance, making way for each other. The scholarly pride that had just been overflowing was now completely crushed by the official's authority.

Surrounded by a group of prefectural officials, Chen Shimei entered slowly. He was still dressed in a scarlet robe, the cloud and goose embroidered on it gleaming brightly in the sunlight. The gold lychee belt at his waist made a soft, rhythmic clatter with each step. His handsome face wore his signature warm smile, his gaze gentle, his demeanor composed, as if he were truly attending a joyous celebration. The officials following behind him also wore smiles, but how much envy, suspicion, and calculation lay hidden beneath those smiles remained unknown.

Chen Shimei didn't carry any of those tacky gift boxes, but his personal attendant held a long sandalwood box, about three feet long and moderately thick. The box was carved with dragon patterns, and two small rubies were inlaid in the dragon's eyes, their light subtly gleaming. Wang Zhonghua glanced at it from afar and his heart skipped a beat: This shape, this size, if the box contained a priceless treasure, it would be a deadly object.

Their eyes met briefly in the air, a fleeting exchange like the clash of swords, yet also like the harmonious blending of water and milk. Chen Shimei nodded slightly, his smile flawless; Wang Zhonghua bowed even deeper, his expression utterly humble. It was as if all the undercurrents, all the tests, all the unspoken clashes before had never occurred.

However, this is far from over.

Just as Chen Shimei was exchanging pleasantries with the officials, the sound of names being called came from outside the door again. This time, the voice was higher and sharper, like a file scraping across porcelain, piercing the eardrums painfully.

"The Li family from the capital has arrived—"

"The young prince of Xiangyang's mansion has arrived!"

The entire "Xiange Renjia" fell silent instantly.