"Wow, Brother Xu Wei is so generous! You're nothing like how my elder brother described you! I’ll have to tell him when I get back."
Lu Chao's naive remark made Xu Wei freeze.
"Ahaha, you mustn’t mention this to your elder brother. I want to surprise him, alright?"
Lu Chao hesitated, glancing at Xu Wei uncertainly.
Xu Wei then pulled out a jade thumb ring and a few small golden gourds.
"Here, take these to play with. If you tell your brother, he’ll never let you out again. I’ve got plenty more exquisite trinkets at home—want some?"
Lu Chao’s eyes sparkled as he accepted the gifts, nodding eagerly.
Xu Wei sighed in relief.
"Next time, why don’t you come to my family’s estate? We’ve got a polo field and even keep two horses. Fancy riding? I’ve also got some curios from the West—I’ll bring them for you next time."
Tian Changgeng listened, green with envy. His cousin treated Lu Chao far better than him, his own blood relative. How frustrating.
"Riding horses sounds boring. I’d never dare. What kind of Western trinkets do you have? My family has some too, and I only like the rare ones."
Lu Chao lifted his chin with the pride of a young noble, his haughty demeanor sending a thrill through Xu Wei. This was far more enticing than those timid little things.
"Someone, fetch the box from my carriage!"
Soon, a servant came running over with a small chest.
"Open it!" Xu Wei grinned, handing it over triumphantly.
Lu Chao lifted the lid and nearly winced at the dazzling glint of gold.
The Xu family was truly wealthy! There were over a dozen golden gourds, an exquisitely carved white jade whistle—warm to the touch, likely made of sunstone—a popular children’s toy in the Great Yuan Dynasty, though commoners usually had ones made of bamboo or wood. Beneath them lay a palm-sized golden abacus.
Tian Changgeng stared, dumbfounded.
"Brother…" he called out weakly.
Xu Wei waved a hand generously. "Take it all. I’ve got plenty more at home. Next time, I’ll bring you even better things."
Lu Chao beamed as he closed the chest.
"Thank you, Brother Xu Wei! You’re such a kind soul! I’ll definitely come out to play with you next time!"
The "kind soul" Xu Wei licked his lips, eyeing his soon-to-be prey with excitement.
"Then it’s settled!"
Tian Changgeng’s mind was in a daze. His cousin had stormed toward Lu Chao earlier as if seeking vengeance—why was he suddenly so generous?
After bidding farewell, Lu Chao strolled leisurely back to his carriage, chest in hand.
Inside, he toyed with the golden abacus while his servant, Sixteen, whispered the information he’d gathered from the Tian household.
"Young Master, Young Master Xu rarely visits the Tian family. The servants say he only comes occasionally during the New Year. His sudden appearance today surprised everyone."
"The Tian family patriarch is the Xu family’s son-in-law. He owes his fortune to them, but he despises his plain wife. Only the Xu family’s influence stops him from taking concubines—though he keeps several mistresses outside."
Lu Chao nodded, signaling he understood, then closed his eyes to rest.
Upon returning home, Qingshan brought him good news—Zhou Youcheng’s letter had finally arrived.
Lu Chao eagerly tore open the thick envelope.
Zhou Youcheng assured him that Xu Wei was no real threat, but warned, "When hunting rats, don’t shatter the vase."
Consort Xu had a four-year-old son—the Eighth Prince. Though she doted on her nephew, her own child took precedence. The Emperor was nearing fifty; in another decade, her son might have a chance at the throne. That was why the Xu family was confined to Yingchuan City.
The Xu family patriarch was the one keeping them in check.
Zhou Youcheng advised Lu Chao to seek Boss Lu if needed—he’d arrange a solution.
He then teased Lu Chao, joking that in a few years, he’d become the "Powdered Lu Gentleman."
Lu Chao gritted his teeth in annoyance.
Just as he was about to pen a reply, Yingge’s letter arrived too.
"Either nothing comes or everything at once," Lu Chao muttered, setting aside Zhou Youcheng’s letter to read Yingge’s.
Perhaps life on the frontier had influenced him—Yingge’s handwriting had grown wilder over the past six months, each stroke sharp and fierce. They say handwriting reflects the person; Lu Chao imagined Yingge becoming a formidable general someday.
Yet the fierce script began with: "Dearest Chaochao, I hope this letter finds you well…"
Lu Chao read on. Yingge had been training with his uncles and could now hold a horse stance for two hours. At twenty meters, his arrows pierced straw dummies. He’d even formed a team with boys his age and been elected captain.
Lu Chao couldn’t help but grin. "My friend, you’re amazing."
As the weather warmed, the Tartars at the border had quieted down. But in some villages, impoverished Tartar civilians still bartered goods for food and tea—a persistent problem. Yingge’s uncles patrolled often, torn between duty and pity.
The Tartars were detestable, but the ragged civilians were pitiable. They could only drive them away, never harm them.
Lu Chao frowned. Though the Great Yuan Dynasty had signed a truce with the Tartars, border trade between civilians was forbidden. By law, those caught trading faced fifty lashes. Yingge’s uncles, upright men, couldn’t bear to punish the poor—yet they dared not openly defy imperial decree.
That evening, Lu Chao sought Lord Lu’s counsel. Why such a law?
Lord Lu stroked his beard solemnly. "To safeguard the border. If trade were allowed, the Tartars would use our grain to fatten their horses—then raid our villages again."
Lu Chao shook his head. "If their people could trade wool for food, they’d raise more sheep, fewer horses. With full bellies, would they still risk war?"
Lord Lu sighed. "You’re too young to understand their savagery. They’re born warriors, devoid of honor—hardly human."
