Chapter 19: The Apology

“Yier, your father misunderstood you... This hundred-tael silver note is rightfully yours.” Xu Ziming held out the cloak, the silver note Xu Gan had stolen resting on top.

Xu Yi didn’t take them. He stared, perplexed... his expression one of utter bewilderment.

Have they all lost their minds?

Stolen goods, now returned.

“You three good-for-nothings! Apologize to your fourth brother!” Xu Ziming barked, turning on his sons.

Xu Gan and his brothers wore expressions of sullen resentment. Xu Xing and Xu Mao, in particular, burned with hatred for Xu Yi—this bastard had gotten them beaten twice today. But they dared not disobey their father.

Xu Gan’s face was dark. “Fourth Brother, that day... it was just roughhousing. If I hurt you, I apologize. Don’t take it to heart.”

Xu Yi watched him, sneering inwardly. Roughhousing? I was bedridden for a month! But the family’s motives remained unclear, so he stayed silent.

Xu Xing muttered a curt “Sorry.”

Xu Mang said grudgingly, “Fourth Brother, I never really meant to take your cloak. Just messing around. Don’t be so serious.”

Xu Yi remained silent, his face impassive.

Xu Ziming hurriedly interjected, “Yier, they are your brothers. Horseplay sometimes goes too far... See? They’ve apologized. Forgive them.”

“I promise you, as your father, this will never happen again.”

Xu Yi couldn’t hold back. “Minister Xu, what is this about? Get to the point.”

“Yier, don’t misunderstand... I admit I neglected you before. It was my fault. I swear I will treat you well from now on!”

“Your brothers are sincere. We are family. Please forgive them.” He paused, then added cautiously, “Yier... could you promise me one thing?”

Xu Yi frowned. “What?”

“Family matters should stay within the family,” Xu Ziming pleaded. “What happened today... don’t speak of it to others. It shames the Xu family.”

Xu Yi’s mind filled with questions.

Why is Xu Ziming so obsessed with keeping this quiet? Who is he afraid of finding out?

Even the Emperor wouldn’t interfere in family squabbles. What’s going on? Is he just worried about his reputation?

Xu Yi couldn’t figure it out. But if Xu Ziming had a vulnerability, he could exploit it.

“Minister Xu, I can keep quiet. But I have a condition.”

“Name it,” Xu Ziming said.

“I want to leave the Xu residence.”

Xu Ziming’s face instantly hardened.

That would be signing my own death warrant!

If the Emperor learned of it, his ministerial position—perhaps even his life—would be forfeit.

“Yier, didn’t we agree not to speak of this again?” he said, forcing calm.

Xu Yi replied coolly, “Then I’m sorry. My tongue isn’t always under control. I might... embellish recent events when chatting.”

“You insolent wretch! You dare threaten me?” Xu Ziming exploded in rage.

Xu Yi met his gaze without flinching.

Xu Ziming took a deep, shuddering breath, wrestling down his fury. “Yier... I agree. But... you must wait until you come of age.”

In this era, adulthood came at sixteen. Xu Yi had only a few months left.

“Minister Xu, I expect you to keep your word.”

Xu Ziming nodded. It was a stalling tactic—pacify Xu Yi for now.

“Minister Xu, if there’s nothing else, please leave.”

Suppressing his rage, Xu Ziming led Xu Gan and his brothers away.

“Damn it... lunatics!” Xu Yi cursed under his breath.

He pocketed the silver note and folded the cloak, then sat down at his desk.

Tomorrow, he planned to visit Old General Chen. He couldn’t go empty-handed.

But he had nothing suitable to offer. Writing a poem seemed appropriate, but several attempts felt inadequate. He gave up.

Looks like I’m going empty-handed... Old General Chen probably won’t mind.

...

The Next Day

After breakfast, Xu Yi set out for the General’s Manor.

Arriving at the imposing gates, he straightened his clothes and knocked.

Creak. The vermilion door opened. A tall, powerfully built man exuding a fierce aura stood there—a man who had clearly seen battle.

Xu Yi clasped his fists in salute. “I am Lan Xing, here to request an audience with Old General Chen. Kindly announce me.”

“You are Lan Xing?” The man’s eyes lit up with excitement.

Xu Yi was taken aback but nodded. “Yes.”

“The Lan Xing who wrote For Old General Chen?”

Xu Yi was confused. “For Old General Chen?”

The man’s eyes were intense. “‘Drunk, I light the lamp to gaze at my sword; Dreams return to the barracks’ bugle calls...’ Was that not yours?”

Xu Yi smiled. So that was it. “Indeed, I composed those lines. Though the title is new to me.”

The man was thrilled. “It really is you! The title was bestowed by His Majesty himself upon Old General Chen!”

Xu Yi was stunned. “His Majesty?”

My poem reached the Emperor?

It must have been Prince Fu who presented it, and the Emperor then gifted it to the General.

Suddenly, the man lunged, grabbing for Xu Yi’s wrist.

Pure reflex took over. Xu Yi twisted his wrist, broke the grip, seized the man’s arm, pulled him forward, and slammed his shoulder into the man’s chest... sending him stumbling back several steps.

The man stared at Xu Yi in astonishment.

Xu Yi rubbed his shoulder—his frail body ached from the impact. But there was no time for that. He glared. “What are you doing?”

Ignoring the question, the man spun around and bellowed into the manor:

“Someone! I’ve caught Lan Xing! Don’t let him escape! Inform the Old General immediately!”

Xu Yi stood dumbfounded. “Erm... Brother, have I committed some crime?”

The man shook his head vigorously. “Not at all!”

“Then why...?”

The man grinned broadly. “Do you know how many people in the capital are searching for you, willing to pay handsomely for poems? I finally found you; I can’t let you slip away.”

“That poem of yours lifted the Old General’s spirits immensely. We wanted to thank you but couldn’t find you.”

Pay handsomely for poems?

Well, at least it wasn’t pay for a child—that would have sent him running.

Xu Yi chuckled ruefully. “I came here to see Old General Chen. Why would I run?”

The man smacked his forehead. “Ah! Right! You’re here for the General! Forgive me, seeing you... I got carried away.”

Xu Yi was speechless.

Just then, a crowd of burly, fierce-looking men poured out of the manor.

“You’re Lan Xing?” one demanded.

Xu Yi nodded. “Yes.”

“Quick! Surround him! Don’t let him get away!”

They instantly formed a tight circle around Xu Yi.

Their eyes burned with intensity, like starving men gazing at a feast.

Xu Yi felt like a lamb surrounded by wolves—small, vulnerable, and utterly helpless. He instinctively shifted, protecting his backside... their stares were unnerving.

Chapter 20: Men of Passion

“So this is the genius Lan Xing?”
“Younger than I imagined!”
“Never thought we’d meet the living Lan Gongzi!”
“So young, yet capable of such a masterpiece! Incredible!”
“Come, everyone! Let’s thank Lan Gongzi together!”

Dozens of men surrounded Xu Yi, clasped their fists, and bowed deeply in unison. “We thank Lan Gongzi!”

Xu Yi cringed internally, his toes curling in his boots. This is the most awkward ‘thank you’ I’ve ever received.

“Really, everyone, no need for such formality... I wrote that poem purely out of respect for Old General Chen,” Xu Yi managed.

Before he finished, a deep, resonant voice cut through: “What is the meaning of this? Is this how you treat an honored guest?”

Xu Yi turned. Old General Chen stood there.

The man who’d grabbed him explained, “Old General, Lan Gongzi’s poem lifted your spirits. We were just expressing our gratitude.”

“Get back to training, all of you!” the General ordered. “Your ‘gratitude’ will frighten him off.”

The crowd parted. Xu Yi stepped forward and bowed. “Lan Xing pays respects to Old General Chen!”

“No need for formalities!” The General smiled warmly. “Your injuries, are they healed?”

“Thanks to the General’s concern, they are fully healed.”

The General nodded, then turned to the man beside him. “Yuanzhong, Lan Xing has come seeking to learn some self-defense skills.”

“He is frail. Start him with some basic exercises... Remember, don’t overexert him.”

Xu Yi almost laughed. The name ‘Yuanzhong’ sounded suspiciously like ‘Hapless’ in Chinese.

Qi Yuanzhong looked puzzled. “Sir, I believe Lan Gongzi’s skills are not inferior to mine.”

Old General Chen was startled.

Qi Yuanzhong explained, “Earlier, when I grabbed his wrist, his reaction was incredibly swift. Not only did he break free, he countered and pushed me back.”

The General’s surprise turned to astonishment. He looked at Xu Yi. “You’ve trained in martial arts?”

Xu Yi, as a former special forces commander, was proficient in grappling, combat, climbing, reconnaissance, wrestling, and even had studied some ancient styles like Baji Quan. But his current body was far too weak to utilize those skills effectively. That’s why he was here—to build strength.

Facing the General’s question, Xu Yi shook his head. “I haven’t formally trained. I just read some books on fighting techniques and practiced a bit on my own.”

“Remarkable, Lan Gongzi! A true prodigy!” Qi Yuanzhong exclaimed, deeply impressed. “Self-taught, and you countered me! Extraordinary!”

He added, “Your counter was sharp and swift, Lan Gongzi. It’s just your body is weak, lacking strength.”

“Old General, Lan Gongzi is undoubtedly a martial arts prodigy. With time, I believe he could become a top-tier master.”

Old General Chen’s face lit up with delight.

“Heroes emerge from the young!” he declared. “You possess peerless literary talent, understand military strategy, and are now revealed as a martial prodigy... Train well. If you ever wish to serve on the frontier, this old man will personally recommend you.”

Xu Yi bowed humbly. “Old General flatters me!”

“Good lad. I wonder whose fortunate son you are? To raise such an outstanding child, your parents must be truly blessed.”

Xu Yi’s mouth twitched involuntarily.

His mother had been deceived by a scoundrel, succumbed to depression and illness, and died young. Meanwhile, that scoundrel Xu Ziming lived in comfort and power.

Truly, the good die young, while the wicked endure.

Xu Yi paused, struck by a thought. I really am thinking of myself as this world’s Xu Yi now.

“Lan Xing, when would you like to begin training?” Old General Chen asked.

“Would now be possible?” Xu Yi replied.

The General chuckled. “Impatient, are we? Good! Yuanzhong, take Lan Xing to the training grounds.”

“Lan Xing, stay for lunch. This old man will host a meal. You’ll join me for a drink!”

Xu Yi clasped his fists. “Lan Xing obeys!”

The General’s Manor was vast, with dedicated training grounds. Only the Emperor and Old General Chen could maintain private troops within the capital. These soldiers, recorded in the imperial register, were the General’s old comrades, their numbers limited.

Xu Yi followed Qi Yuanzhong to the training ground. He’d learned on the way that Yuanzhong’s full name was Qi Yuanzhong.

On the grounds, a group of powerfully built men, stripped to the waist, muscles glistening with sweat, were running circuits around the perimeter, carrying heavy logs.

Xu Yi felt a pang of nostalgia. It was like stepping back into his barracks life.

“Lan Gongzi, start by running with them. Warm up your body,” Qi Yuanzhong instructed.

“Understood.”

Xu Yi wasted no time. He removed his cloak, folded it neatly, and placed it aside. Then he took off his thin outer robe, revealing his scrawny torso. Looking down at his ribcage-like physique, he felt a flush of embarrassment.

Qi Yuanzhong offered kindly, “Lan Gongzi, it’s bitterly cold. You’re frail; you might catch a chill.”

“It’s fine, Brother Qi. Please, no special treatment.”

Xu Yi walked over and strained to lift one of the logs, his legs trembling under the weight.

Qi Yuanzhong quickly intervened. “Lan Gongzi, take a thinner one! You can’t build strength overnight. We must progress steadily.”

Xu Yi nodded sheepishly. He couldn’t run; even walking was a struggle with the thick log.

He finally settled on a much thinner log and joined the soldiers running their circuits.

But his body was truly weak. After just one lap, he was gasping for air, drenched in sweat.

“Lan Gongzi, rest a moment?” suggested one of the soldiers—the same men who had surrounded him earlier. Seeing him red-faced and sweating profusely, they worried he’d collapse.

“I’m... alright,” Xu Yi puffed out between breaths. “This is... nothing. More sweat in training... less blood in battle! Keep... going!”

They’d expected the delicate scholar to manage maybe two laps at most.

To their astonishment, Xu Yi pushed through ten laps, then fifteen. Sweat poured off him, his breathing was ragged, but he refused to stop.

Such determination earned the respect of these battle-hardened veterans. The pampered young masters of the capital rode horses or sedan chairs; they were soft. Yet here was Lan Xing, a literary genius, willingly mingling with rough men and demonstrating such grit—it was refreshing.

“Lan Gongzi! Fifteen laps! Rest now!” Qi Yuanzhong called out, genuinely concerned.

“No... need... A few more...” Xu Yi gasped.

He completed twenty full laps before finally stopping.

The soldiers swarmed around him—offering water, massaging his shoulders, helping him stretch to ease the fatigue.

“Lan Gongzi,” one asked curiously, “your poems fetch fortunes now. Selling just one would set you up for life... Why put yourself through this hardship?”

Xu Yi grinned weakly. “A strong body is the greatest asset. Everything else is secondary.”

“Think about it. Suppose I had mountains of gold, beauties surrounding me... but if my body failed me, if desire outstripped ability... wouldn’t that be the ultimate tragedy?”

“Take visiting a pleasure house. Spend a fortune... only for your body to betray you. Wasted money, public ridicule...”

A group of rough men, once the topic turned to women, couldn’t resist. Crude jokes and banter filled the air.

“So Lan Gongzi is a man of passion too?”
“Lan Gongzi! When I’ve saved enough coin, I’ll take you to the finest brothel in town!”
“Lan Gongzi! Free tonight? My treat—let’s visit the pleasure houses and enjoy some music!”