Chapter Ninety-Two: Catering to His Taste!

Astonishingly, the young lord of the British Duke’s household, Zhang Zhiji, who had only been announced as arriving yesterday, had somehow made the journey today all the way from Yicheng County, nearly a hundred li away, to Quanzi Village to see Li Yuanjing.

Even Xue the Great Benefactor would not dare show the slightest neglect now.

He hurriedly summoned Li Yuanjing and told him to go at once and receive Zhang Zhiji.

Li Yuanjing was a little dazed as well.

Were these noble scions all this extravagant, turning up whenever they pleased?

And had anyone even asked Li Yuanjing for his opinion?

But since it had already happened, and on the surface it was unquestionably more beneficial than harmful to him, how could Li Yuanjing allow any lapse in courtesy?

He quickly gathered himself and hurried off to meet Zhang Zhiji.

Yet in that brief interval, Li Yuanjing did not forget to observe Xue the Great Benefactor and Lord Dong.

Soon he noticed something.

Xue the Great Benefactor had already steadied himself, as calm as an old dog, while Lord Dong was visibly uneasy, his mind clearly burdened with something.

...

When Li Yuanjing and the others arrived by the north gate, they were somewhat startled.

There they saw over two hundred brightly dressed, fiercely mounted elite cavalrymen entering Quanzi Village in succession through the north gate. The snorts of those fine warhorses came so near they seemed right before one’s eyes.

Not far away, a tall young man wearing a fine deerskin cap and a brilliant red cloak stood under the protection of the old village head and a dozen elite personal guards, studying the construction at the north gate with great interest.

Xue the Great Benefactor was quick-witted indeed; he hurriedly said in a low voice to Li Yuanjing:

"Brother Yuanjing, that must be the young lord Zhang Zhiji..."

Li Yuanjing reacted at once, stepped forward quickly, and bowed deeply.

"This student, Li Yuanjing, pays respects to the young lord..."

"Hm?"

Zhang Zhiji froze for a moment, then turned quickly to look at Li Yuanjing and sized him up from head to toe.

Then he burst into laughter and reached out warmly to help Li Yuanjing up.

"So you are Mr. Li. I have long admired your great name."

"Especially that line of yours, 'Life is like first meeting, why then should autumn wind grieve over the painted fan'—it truly leaves me in utter admiration."

"And then there is that other line, 'Heaven has made me for a purpose; though a thousand pieces of gold be spent, they shall come again'—that is like finding a soul mate!"

"How does the saying go?"

"'Those who gave me life are my parents; the one who understands me is Mr. Li!'"

As soon as Zhang Zhiji said this, everyone around them was dumbstruck.

Especially Xue the Great Benefactor and Lord Dong, who lowered their eyes and stood motionless, as though a single move would bring down divine thunder upon them.

The old village head beside them was already weeping with joy.

He had known it, he had always known it: Yuanjing was surely a promising young man!

And yet... even he could never have imagined that Li Yuanjing would become so promising as to make the famed young lord of the British Duke’s household call himself a little brother at every turn.

Seeing Zhang Zhiji before him, so much like a devoted fan struck silly, Li Yuanjing did not know whether to laugh or cry.

But soon he recovered himself and understood perfectly well that someone like Zhang Zhiji could never truly be a fool.

He was only now gaining a foothold in Yicheng County, not even fully settled yet, and had come at once to pay his respects. Whatever lay beneath that gesture, it was certainly not something Li Yuanjing could casually guess at.

He quickly smiled respectfully.

"The young lord overpraises me. These are but trifles scribbled by hand; they only make you laugh."

"Hahaha."

Zhang Zhiji laughed heartily.

"Mr. Li need not stand on ceremony. I detest all those tedious formalities. To be able to meet you in person today has truly relieved a great matter that has long weighed on my heart."

With such sincere enthusiasm from Zhang Zhiji, Li Yuanjing too was somewhat infected by it and no longer felt so restrained.

Before long, the two were in lively conversation, and Li Yuanjing hastily invited Zhang Zhiji to his humble home for a further talk, since the snowstorm outside was so fierce.

Zhang Zhiji did not stand on ceremony either. Smiling broadly, he nodded and ordered the elite cavalry under his command to make camp on the spot and not disturb the villagers.

Li Yuanjing suddenly had a thought.

In such weather, even if these elite cavalry were well equipped and carried large tents, how could they possibly sleep comfortably outdoors?

Falling ill from the cold would hardly be surprising.

He hurriedly said with a smile:

"Young lord, although Quanzi Village has no spare houses, a fire broke out a few days ago and several households were destroyed; they are currently staying with relatives for the time being. There are also a few vacant old homes nearby."

"If you do not mind, Your Lordship may let the soldiers stay there temporarily. I will have the old village head provide enough firewood for everyone."

As he spoke, Li Yuanjing gave the old village head a meaningful glance.

The old village head was no fool either. He quickly understood and nodded repeatedly with a genial smile.

Zhang Zhiji could not help but look at Li Yuanjing in a new light.

The outer city wall of Quanzi Village had already left Zhang Zhiji with a very favorable impression of him. Li Yuanjing’s breadth of mind and bearing were more than he himself could have managed; he simply had not voiced it because the situation was still unclear.

Who would have thought... that Li Yuanjing would be so thoughtful as to have already considered even the lodging of his troops?

He promptly cupped his hands and smiled.

"Mr. Li is so meticulous. Then I shall gladly accept your kind offer."

...

With the old village head handling the arrangements for the soldiers, Li Yuanjing led Zhang Zhiji and his two dozen personal guards straight to his own home.

In truth, although Zhang Zhiji’s force of more than two hundred men was large in number, the buildings on Li Yuanjing’s side, though made of earth and rather shabby, could probably still have been packed in if everything were squeezed carefully.

But Li Yuanjing remembered one iron law very clearly:

Soldiers are dangerous instruments.

Even if Zhang Zhiji had behaved quite well thus far, there were so many women in Li Yuanjing’s household. How could he possibly make trouble for himself?

Once they were settled at Li Yuanjing’s residence, Yu Niang, Chen Chunyan, and Big Ya had already prepared new and ample food and wine.

After a few cups, Zhang Zhiji grew even happier and laughed.

"Mr. Li, I have long heard your name, and today I finally have the honor of meeting you. I am truly delighted, delighted indeed. I only wonder whether you have produced any new works lately; even if not poetry, a couplet would do..."

Looking at Zhang Zhiji’s somewhat good-natured, almost simple appearance, Li Yuanjing could not help but smile.

"Young lord, I had no inspiration at first, but today, having seen you and the elite men under your command, I have indeed had some ideas. If you would not laugh at me, I shall write them down for your instruction."

"Excellent!"

"Very excellent!"

"Hahaha..."

Zhang Zhiji had been waiting for exactly that. He laughed out loud and hurriedly said,

"Mr. Li, please."

Li Yuanjing called out toward the outside, and Zhang Kun and Zhuzi brought in all the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone.

After the ink was ground and the paper laid out, Li Yuanjing composed himself. He did not think long before, with vigorous and graceful strokes in the slender-gold style, he wrote a verse:

"I would eat the flesh of the northern barbarians when hunger drives me on; with a smile I would drink the blood of the Xiongnu when parched! When all is done, I shall gather up the old rivers and mountains, and pay homage once more to the heavenly court!"

"Young lord, please do not laugh at me."

"This is not really a couplet, nor quite a poem; if one must classify it, it should be called a lyric. As for how best to complete it, I am afraid I shall need more time to ponder."

When he finished and saw Zhang Zhiji utterly stunned, Li Yuanjing could not suppress the faint curve at the corner of his mouth and respectfully cupped his hands.

"Hm?"

Only then did Zhang Zhiji come to himself. The fervor in his eyes was impossible to describe. Breathing hard, he clapped and praised:

"Mr. Li, a fine poem—no, a fine lyric, a fine lyric indeed!"

"I, Zhang Zhiji, have lived most of my life and never seen anything so gratifying, so stirring, so full of spirit! It speaks straight to my heart..."

His face already flushed crimson, Zhang Zhiji was truly drunk on the verse before he was drunk on wine. He clearly wanted to say more, yet for a moment simply did not know how to express himself.

Seeing him like this, Li Yuanjing remained unmoved on the surface, but inwardly became ever more composed.

So this was how one played to another’s taste.

That was not a derogatory phrase at all, but a crucial principle.

It was one of the key things that separated ordinary people from true masters.

To explain it in later words, it would be easier to understand:

Know your target precisely, know what you want, and know how to obtain it.

What kind of noble blood did Zhang Zhiji possess?

He was unquestionably among the very highest rank in the entire Great Qian.

Coming all the way to this godforsaken hinterland of Qizhou, even if he had some purpose in mind, it was most likely still for training and experience.

And as a scion of such a premier martial noble house, what was this mere backwater of Qizhou, what were these mere refugee rebels, worth?

A true man should naturally go to the battlefield of Liaodong and fight the barbarians properly, proving his honor with the heads of foreign foes.

The two lines of poetry by the mighty loyalist general that Li Yuanjing had just quoted might as well have scratched Zhang Zhiji’s deepest itch directly.

"Sir, you are a man of great talent. Please accept this junior’s bow!"

At last, Zhang Zhiji came to himself and hurriedly bowed deeply to Li Yuanjing with the utmost respect a younger man could show an elder.

"May I ask, sir, whether you would part with this piece of calligraphy and let this junior have it? I did not bring much silver with me today, but I would still gladly pay a thousand taels for it!"