Chapter 50: How Did You End Up Entangled with Master Xue, the Paragon of Virtue?

"Li Yuanjing—no, Master Li, I know I was wrong, truly, I know my mistake, I’ll never dare to do it again…”

Li Yuanjing had just sent Zhang Kun to the small eatery nearby to fetch some food for Wang Baiyu and her mother.

Meanwhile, Wang Cuihua finally came to her senses. In a flurry of panic, she scrambled to her knees before Li Yuanjing, knocking her head against the ground in desperate pleas for mercy. She truly didn’t even dare to look him in the eye now—gone was any trace of her former arrogance or brazenness.

Seeing how much more docile Wang Cuihua had become after his lesson, a faint smile played at the corner of Li Yuanjing’s lips. Many people, he mused, are like this—they won’t shed a tear until you’ve nailed the coffin shut.

The reason Li Yuanjing had come in person to rescue Wang Cuihua was not solely because of her husband, Liu Gang. There was another, far more pivotal reason. Wang Cuihua was clearly entangled with the so-called Philanthropist Xue; she likely knew plenty about his affairs, which was what truly interested Li Yuanjing.

Furthermore, as a matchmaker, Wang Cuihua held many marriage connections in her hands. In this era, such resources were invaluable. Rather than let them go to waste, why not take them under his own control?

“Enough. Stop wailing like a banshee. I’ll settle accounts with you when we get back!” Li Yuanjing snapped, giving Wang Cuihua a kick before turning away to see to Wang Baiyu and her mother, making sure they ate first.

Realizing that Li Yuanjing still had no intention of letting her off, Wang Cuihua began to wail again, but then stifled her cries, only daring to silently wipe her tears, feeling more wronged than ever. At least her husband, Liu Gang, was by her side to offer some comfort.

On the other side, Wang Baiyu and her mother devoured two big bowls of rice, followed by some hot soup that Li Yuanjing had arranged for them. At last, they began to recover, and could no longer restrain themselves—they knelt and kowtowed in gratitude, addressing him as “Master.”

Li Yuanjing gazed at the pitiful mother and daughter, and for a moment could only sigh deeply, telling them to rest a while before setting out again.

…

By the time they returned to Quanzi Village, dusk had fallen. It was just the women workers’ mealtime, so the area around the workshop buzzed with lively chatter.

When Yuniang learned that Li Yuanjing had bought another mother and daughter as servants, she couldn’t help but gape in astonishment. She wanted to persuade her brother not to squander money so recklessly, but for a moment found no words to say.

Chen Chunyan, though she smiled serenely on the surface, inwardly tensed. Who would have thought—not only was she clever, but others were just as shrewd, knowing enough to cling tightly to the master of the house… She would have to perform even better from now on, lest the master become dissatisfied and replace her in her fortunate position.

Li Yuanjing, of course, had no time for the women’s sentiments. He called Wang Baiyu and her mother over to meet Yuniang, instructing her to comfort them, let them eat, and settle them in.

He himself made his way to the makeshift courtyard behind his house where Zhao Zengjin’s carpentry workshop was set up.

With Li Yuanjing’s blueprints, iron frames provided by Mao Fugui and his daughter, and Zhao Zengjin’s own ideas, the design for Li Yuanjing’s simple grain transport boat was nearly complete.

Zhao Zengjin hurried to brief Li Yuanjing, seeking his opinion on whether anything else was needed.

In truth, building a boat was far less complicated than one might imagine—especially a simple craft like this. Only two things mattered: buoyancy and sturdiness. As for buoyancy, Li Yuanjing was not entirely confident, but he knew that throughout Chinese history, shipbuilders often used teak wood for boats. Conveniently, the southern hills of Quanzi Village had no shortage of teak trees. While there weren’t large logs, there was plenty of smaller timber—much of the firewood villagers used daily was just such teak. Pieced together, it would do.

Sturdiness was even easier to address—strengthen the frame as much as possible. Considering how even the makeshift wooden rafts from survival shows could float across seas, and he had plenty of manpower and materials, how could he not succeed?

However, the workload was considerable, and Zhao Zengjin alone was not enough. Li Yuanjing immediately instructed him to recruit a few reliable carpenters, who would sign indenture contracts.

Delighted, Zhao Zengjin quickly named a few candidates. Li Yuanjing, having his own list in mind, saw their choices aligned and agreed, telling Zhao Zengjin to call them over for a discussion. If they came to terms, work would begin that very night.

After dining with Yuniang, Li Yuanjing returned to find Zhao Zengjin had already summoned three carpenters. To his surprise, all three were overjoyed to sell themselves as indentured servants to Li Yuanjing, signing contracts without the slightest hesitation.

Li Yuanjing was momentarily taken aback by their enthusiasm. But after chatting briefly, he realized what had happened—Zhao Zengjin had already become a role model for these carpenters. Now that they too could enjoy such a life, how could they not be pleased?

…

With the carpenters and the boat project settled, Li Yuanjing finally breathed a sigh of relief. Even though the finished boat would have to be hauled nearly twenty li to the banks of the surging Yi River, this was hardly an issue for Li Yuanjing or the people of Quanzi Village, especially since the boat wasn’t large.

However, when Li Yuanjing tallied the accounts, he couldn’t help but gasp. He hadn’t touched the fifty taels of silver given as a deposit by Wang Youdao, but aside from that, he had less than ten taels left on hand. The speed at which he had spent money recently was truly astonishing.

Still, considering things carefully, he did not regret it; at least half of those expenses were highly cost-effective. He had full confidence that the people he’d helped, and the relationships he’d cultivated, would bring him tenfold, even a hundredfold, returns.

After organizing his affairs, he consulted the village elder about the available young men—who could be relied upon, and who could not. By the time everything was settled, midnight had come and gone.

He’d hoped to speak with Wang Baiyu’s mother, Wang Liu, about her hometown of Huangniwa, but at this hour, she and her daughter were already asleep. He’d have to wait until tomorrow.

After making a final round through the workshop, Li Yuanjing was on his way back to rest when a familiar figure appeared in the distance, her voice trembling with suppressed tears:

“Master Li, I… I’ve come to apologize…”

With that, she fell to her knees, sobbing and sniffling, tears streaming down her face. Who else could it be but Wang Cuihua?

“So late at night, what’s the point of apologizing now?” Though his anger toward her had faded, seeing her appear at such a moment stirred his ire again, and Li Yuanjing snapped coldly.

“Master Li, I’ve been waiting all night—you were busy, so I could only wait until now…” Wang Cuihua, seeing his mood sour, hastily stifled her sobs and replied pitifully.

Her display of sense mollified him somewhat. He said curtly, “Don’t just stand there—come inside if you have something to say.”

He opened the door to the adjacent storeroom and personally lit the brazier inside. Wang Cuihua hesitated, but entered, still feeling wronged.

Once the door was closed and Li Yuanjing sat down by the brazier, Wang Cuihua came to her senses, hurried over, and knelt at his feet, wagging her tail like a loyal hound.

“Master Li, everything that happened before was my fault—I’m here to beg your pardon. If it’ll help, you can beat me as you like, as long as you’ll forgive me this once…”

As she spoke, she turned around and presented her most prized asset to Li Yuanjing.

He was left speechless, both amused and exasperated.

To be honest, although Wang Cuihua had always been plain, and her painted face did her no favors—she’d once been somewhat plump and insufferably arrogant—he couldn’t deny that her figure was rather decent. After a few days of captivity and losing over ten pounds, she now possessed the allure of what modern folk might call “pleasantly plump.”

In such an atmosphere, tinged with ambiguity, even Li Yuanjing felt a vague irritation.

But he quickly collected himself and, annoyed, gave her full hips a kick. “Cut out the nonsense. Sit up and speak properly!”

“Yes, sir…” Wang Cuihua startled, realizing her tactics were useless here. She obediently climbed onto a chair, perching on the edge.

Seeing that she’d composed herself, Li Yuanjing finally cast her a cold, measured glance and asked, “Wang Cuihua, how did you come to be involved with Philanthropist Xue?”