fake gentry

There was no one else in the cave besides Liu Chong and Chen San.

Chen San pondered for a long time, then squinted and slowly said:

"Although the Xie family is not a prominent one, I know their genealogy very well. Xie Kun only has one son and one daughter. His son, Xie Shang, is quick-witted, straightforward, and exceptionally intelligent, but he is a year younger than you, my lord. Xie Pou has four sons. His eldest son, Xie Yi, is only thirteen, and his other sons, Xie Ju, Xie An, and Xie Wan, are only two or three years old. This Xie Fengzhi is at least a year older than you, my lord, and her demeanor and bearing are far superior to even Wang Xizhi of Langya."

Liu Chong's eyes lit up: "Uncle Cen means this kid is using the surname Xie? Can we kill him?"

Chen San smiled bitterly and said, "No, this boy is undoubtedly from a noble family. The sword and clothing he wears are things that only a high-ranking family could possess. As for his background... I'm afraid he might be from a collateral branch of the Sima clan."

The young refugee exclaimed in shock, "Impossible!"

Chen San pulled Liu Chong aside and whispered, "Young master, let's just assume he's a member of the Xie family."

The young refugee reluctantly accepted the ring-pommel sword, then said with a look of disgust, "That lowly soldier wants to take Xie's son as a male prostitute, and this old maid's son wants to learn from the gentry and play with male prostitutes."

Chen San shook his head: "I don't think Xie Fengzhi is the type to sit idly by and wait for his doom. Regardless of whether he's a member of the Xie family or not, we absolutely cannot let anything happen to him. But if something changes, are you prepared to take his place, my lord?"

Liu Chong couldn't help but feel irritated.

Before long, Xie Hong watched as the young refugee emerged from the cave, a knife now at his waist. Instead of returning to his side to keep watch, he stood behind the leader of the group.

After Chen San came out, he continued piling firewood. Seeing that the other party was close to him, Xie Hong seized the opportunity and whispered, "Sir, that sword was a gift from an elder when I came of age. It would be a waste for it to fall into the hands of that mad slave. I know that your identity is not simple. I will give you the sword, and you can quietly let me go, how about it?"

Chen San glanced at him, his expression subtle.

Xie Hong continued, "Even if you kill me, who will you sell these clothes to? And how much money will you get for them?"

Chen San laughed and said, "Normally, we wouldn't even dare to dream of such a fine outfit as Master Xie's, but even if it only costs 20,000 coins, it would be enough to feed the thirty-odd of us for two months."

"And what about two months from now? Where will you abduct another gentry member like myself?"

"Heh, isn't Young Master Xie supposed to be fearless?"

"There is great terror between life and death, who is not afraid? I see that you are not a short-sighted person. Do you really want to follow that mad servant to kill the gentry just because of a set of clothes?"

Chen San continued to add firewood to the campfire. Xie Hong knew this was his only chance, and he had to make enough promises to move the other party.

He spoke in a voice only Chen San could hear: "What is your current predicament? You are a refugee, without a home, unable to find a place to call yourselves. Normally, you might manage to survive by robbing a lone merchant, but robbing a member of the gentry is a capital offense. If the Xie family knew I was killed in Lushan, how long could you possibly escape?"

Xie Hong's gaze swept over Chen San's face, which was flickering between light and shadow, and he lowered his voice even further:

"If you release me, I swear by the Xie family of Chenjun that I will take you as my servant and have you accompany me in and out of my household. Please consider it."

The term "servant" refers to the sons of bankrupt lower-ranking aristocratic families who work for other aristocratic families. They are nominally still scholars, but in reality, they do the work of servants.

Xie Hong finally unleashed his ultimate trump card: "In today's world, social status is determined by bloodline, but there are also those from humble backgrounds who rise to high positions. You will only be a vagrant for life with that mad slave, but if you follow me, you may be able to build a great career and establish a family lineage."

Seeing Chen San remain silent, Xie Hong stopped speaking.

Too much talk leads to mistakes; saying too much will expose your insecurity and turn your carefully crafted rhetoric from persuasion into begging.

All he could do now was wait, wait for the other person to fall for him.

As time went by, the sky gradually darkened, fog rose in the mountains, and several campfires were lit.

The refugees who had gone out to forage returned to the camp one after another. Several rabbits, as well as some pheasants and doves, were hanging from the wooden spears in their hands. They were clearly prey caught with ropes.

Xie Hong was not surprised at all. Setting traps was the same natural thing for hunters in the Eastern Jin Dynasty as it was for hunters in the Northeast; it was a family tradition.

The "In Search of the Supernatural" and "The Master Who Embraces Simplicity" not only record various hunting methods, but also various trap-making techniques.

Beside the peach grove was a spring stream. The refugees began to use the spring water to wash wild rabbits and pheasants, and soon they had gathered them up. Chen San then took out three broken earthenware pots from the cave and placed them on the stove made of stones.

First, boil half a pot of water, then pour in rabbit blood and chicken blood and stir. Add some moldy millet and wild vegetables, and soon three large pots of thick porridge will be cooked.

The team leader approached Xie Hong at that moment, circling him several times with a malicious look in his eyes: "Kid, have you made up your mind? Male lover? Or die?"

Xie Hong felt a chill run down his spine, trembling as he gritted his teeth: "Go ahead and kill me if you dare!"

The captain scrutinized Xie Hong for a while longer, his eyes gleaming with even more interest: "You haven't touched a woman in three months, and you want to be a nobleman for once. If you want to die, I'll grant your wish. After I've had my fill, I'll cut off a piece of flesh, roast it, and eat it with chrysanthemum greens. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

He then laughed loudly and shouted, "Chen San, put him down, don't hurt those delicate hands."

Xie Hong was filled with hatred!

What do you mean by "don't hurt those delicate hands"?

The battle to save lives had barely begun when it plunged into a war over the genitals.

Chen San lowered Xie Hong from the peach tree, and taking this opportunity, Xie Hong quickly whispered, "My lord, what's your decision?"

Chen San didn't even glance at him.

Xie Hong's heart was already half dead.

We're doomed.

The deception failed.

Another half hour passed, and the rabbit, pheasant, and dove were roasted.

The thirty-odd refugees each took a small piece, used paulownia leaves as bowls, filled them with a bowl of sticky wild vegetable and millet porridge, and began to wolf it down around the campfire.

Among the refugees, a boy of about ten years old, so thin he was almost just a skeleton, came to the front of the group barefoot, carrying a wooden tray with his two thin, bony arms exposed. On the tray were a whole roasted rabbit, a pheasant, and a large bowl of porridge, which made up almost half of all the meat.

The boy in the group started wolfing down his food. Whenever he spat out a bone, the boy would crawl on the ground to pick it up and then eat it with relish. The others were completely used to it.

This scene caused Xie Hong to break down on the spot.

brute!

There was still so much porridge in the earthenware jar.

The campfire flickered, and the outline of Mount Lu was completely hidden in the thick fog, with only the sound of the wind passing through the peach grove.

Chen San handed Xie Hong a bowl of porridge. Although Xie Hong's stomach was growling with hunger, the smell made him want to vomit.

Xie Hong took the opportunity to make a questioning look at Chen San, but the other party didn't respond at all, which angered Xie Hong so much that he coldly said, "I won't eat it if it's not cooked properly."

Chen San then handed over the roasted pigeon.

"If the color is wrong, I won't eat it."

Chen San then handed over half a roasted pheasant.

"It smells awful, I won't eat it."

Chen San finally glanced at him, walked up to the captain and said a few words. The captain's face darkened, and he tore off half of a roasted wild rabbit and threw it to Chen San.

Xie Hong still refused: "I won't eat meat that isn't square."

Swish!

Suddenly, the captain drew his sword, the blade tracing an arc.

Xie Hong then saw the boy's head fall off his neck, and crimson blood spurted out, splattering all over the ground.

His body remained in the posture of picking up bones, his head detached from his neck and rolled a long way before his whole body collapsed to the ground as if his joints had been dislocated.

His eyes were still open, and the gaze deep in his eye sockets had not completely faded, leaving a trace of satisfaction, expectation, and a trace of confusion and fear that had not yet fully surfaced.

Xie Hong's pupils contracted violently in fright, followed by a rush of blood to his head, causing dizziness and blurring of everything before his eyes.

What is he expecting? What is he hoping to achieve?

Is it satisfying to have bones to gnaw on? Looking forward to eating more?

Beast, beast, beast! !

When his vision cleared, the blood-stained sword was already at his neck.

The captain stared at him coldly and said, "You won't eat this or that, but will you eat this or not?"

The refugees, who were enjoying their meal, were all terrified.

The deceased refugee boy had no parents and had fled here with everyone else. He had been surviving by serving the team leader in exchange for a little food.

Chen San hadn't expected the squad leader to be so brutal. Fearing that he might kill Xie Hong in a fit of rage, he first gave Liu Chong, who was not far away, a look and reached out to pull the squad leader back: "Squad leader, calm down. Let me try to persuade him again."

The captain gave a vague snort, but did not sheathe his sword. Chen San grabbed his hand tightly: "Don't be impulsive. Give me the sword. Don't hurt his face. Playing with it will ruin the fun."

The captain burst into laughter, and with a swift movement, the sword was in Chen San's hand.

He reached out and pinched Xie Hong, while his other hand touched Xie Hong's cheek, as if he were playing with a delicate object.

"Truly, her face was as smooth as cream, and her eyes as bright as dots..."

Xie Hong completely forgot his fear at this moment, spat out a mouthful of saliva, and roared furiously with eyes wide open:

"brute!!"

Then, disregarding everything, he pounced on the leader, his hands gripping the leader's neck tightly. His rage made his body move even faster than his mind.

He felt that although he had been starving for most of the day, he was still a modern man, tall and strong, while the other person was a head shorter than him and a refugee who had been eating irregularly. How much strength could he possibly have?

But he was wrong.

The captain's face suddenly turned ferocious, and the hand gripping his neck tightened its grip.

Xie Hong instantly saw his great-grandmother.

It’s over.

The ball is dead.

In a daze, he heard Chen San's voice: "My lord, make your move!!"

The young refugee Liu Chong lunged at the captain from behind and stabbed him viciously in the back with his ring-pommel sword.