Chapter Three: The Ungrateful Wretch!
“Yulang, your illness has just begun to improve; be careful not to overexert yourself. Quickly drink this bowl of herbal medicine and rest for a while—look at all this sweat.” Aunt Qing carefully helped Li Zhao drink the medicine, then took out a silk handkerchief to wipe away his perspiration, her care for him overflowing in every gesture.
Li Zhao had been raised by her from childhood; in her heart, he was her own child.
“Aunt Qing, don’t worry, I’m fine now. Moving around and soaking up some sunshine is good for my health!” Li Zhao felt genuine affection for Aunt Qing, and even hopped a few steps to show he was truly well.
After his parents died, Aunt Qing and Bai Mo took care of young Li Zhao, the three relying on each other, forming a family in their own right.
Once he finished the medicine, Li Zhao wanted to continue exercising, but Aunt Qing stopped him, for there was something more important to do—ancestor worship!
To Aunt Qing, Li Zhao’s survival from disaster was thanks to the blessing of their ancestors, and so proper rites were needed, praying that the ancestors of the Li family would continue to protect him, turning misfortune into fortune.
In ancient times, ancestors were revered above all, and ancestral rites could not be refused.
With Bai Mo’s help, Li Zhao bathed, changed clothes, dressed up carefully, and then stepped into the small ancestral shrine.
The shrine was clean, solemn, and dignified. In the northernmost position stood the altar, above which hung a large painting, nine feet long and four feet wide. It depicted a young man of twenty-seven or twenty-eight, wearing a purple-gold crown, a bright yellow four-clawed dragon robe, a white jade belt with nine rings at his waist, and a Tang sword slung across his shoulder, exuding heroic vigor.
In the upper right corner of the portrait was written: “Grand Tutor—Prince’s Mentor—King Wu Li Ke.”
Li Ke was Li Zhao’s great-grandfather.
On the altar stood several spirit tablets: “The late Lord Li Jiong, founding Duke of Guizheng County!”
“Late father—Li Bing!”
“Late mother—Lady Bai Suzhen!”
His mother’s name was Bai Suzhen—what a name!
Mother’s surname was Bai, Aunt’s surname was Qing; thankfully, his father wasn’t surnamed Xu, or he’d have to travel to West Lake in Hangzhou, dig up the Leifeng Pagoda, and beat up a monk named Fahai.
...
On the altar sat a few offerings, as well as a nine-holed purple-gold flute about two feet long, hollow and delicate, exquisitely crafted!
And a Tang sword, about four feet long, with a long handle suitable for two-handed grip and chopping, its scabbard made of black walnut wood, wrapped in fine steel, adorned with elegant openwork patterns.
The purple-gold flute and Tang sword were left behind by Li Zhao’s parents. Aunt Qing had mentioned more than once that his father was handsome and talented, a dragon among men, and his mother was beautiful and skilled in poetry, music, and all the arts.
Sadly, both died young.
...
Li Zhao was a true descendant of the Li family, only born a thousand years later; now, kneeling before his ancestors, he felt no burden, immediately lighting incense and bowing, silently praying:
“Li family ancestors above, my name is Li Zhao. I was just daydreaming, never thought I’d really travel to the Tang Dynasty. Though this place is nice, I still miss home. Could you manifest and send me back to my original world?”
Li Zhao secretly opened one eye; the surroundings remained unchanged. It seemed there was no way back.
Since he couldn’t return, he decided to ask for something else.
“Ancestors, since returning isn’t possible, as compensation for being a traveler, please grant me three modest wishes:
First, may I live safely and peacefully, with no disasters or misfortunes. Even if I can’t reach a hundred, let me live at least ninety-nine years.
Second, may my days be comfortable, with delicacies from mountain and sea, piles of gold and silver, and beauties in abundance.
Third, during my struggles, let me suffer less hardship and danger; ideally, may my goals be achieved amidst food, drink, and pleasure!
Hmm, three wishes seem too few. Let me add another… or two more.
Since I’ve already added two, you won’t mind a few more, will you?
My thirteen wishes are...
My thirty-ninth wish is...
Almost forgot my greatest wish—please grant me a wife who is talented and beautiful, well-read and courteous, gentle and virtuous, adept both in the drawing room and the kitchen.
If these wishes are fulfilled, when I achieve success, I shall offer the finest tribute to the ancestors, build grand tombs, honor you with titles, enshrine you in the imperial temple, and ensure everlasting incense and offerings... Well, let’s happily seal the deal!”
...
No sooner had he finished praying than Bai Mo rushed in, panting and flustered: “Master, something’s wrong! The wolf is here!”
“Oh? What’s he here for?”
“I don’t know, but I fear his intentions aren’t good!”
How could a wolf enter the Li family shrine in broad daylight?
Don’t be mistaken—Bai Mo wasn’t speaking of a wild wolf from the mountains, but a thankless traitor, called Li De!
Li De had once been an unknown beggar, wandering for food. Thirty years ago, on a snowy night, after days without sustenance, he froze in a ruined temple outside Wu’an County.
Li Zhao’s grandfather happened to pass by in his carriage, took pity, saved the boy, and brought him home, adopted him, named him Li De, and personally taught him to read, write, and behave, nurturing him into a gentleman.
Li Zhao’s father treated Li De well, too, regarding him as a brother, entrusting him with the family business, and giving him most of its profits.
Unexpectedly, the kindness of two generations bred a traitor!
When Li Zhao’s parents died, he was only eight, too young to manage the family affairs. With no other elders to rely on, Li De took the opportunity to seize the estate as “uncle,” sent Li Zhao to live in the shrine under the guise of recuperation—effectively confining him—and moved into the ancestral mansion with his wife and son, replacing all the staff with his own cronies.
A side note: a few days ago, Li Zhao didn’t fall into the well by accident; he was pushed. The culprits? Li De’s sons, Li Chong and Li Fei.
If Li Zhao died, the bloodline of King Wu would end, and Li De and his sons could permanently occupy the estate, and even impersonate royal descendants—truly wicked!
In fact, Li Zhao had indeed died—at the hands of this family.
“Little fellow, don’t worry. I’ll avenge you, and reclaim the estate!” Li Zhao patted his chest, silently vowing.
...
While Li Zhao was unconscious, Li De’s family ignored him. Now, just after he awoke, they rushed to visit—what is their purpose? Concern is likely feigned—most probably, they intend to probe his condition and plot further harm.
So, Li Zhao decided to turn the tables.
Gathering Aunt Qing and Bai Mo, he whispered his plan. The two exchanged glances, then nodded in understanding, and set out to act.
Bai Mo dashed to the shrine entrance to greet the traitor—hoping to delay him with conversation.
Aunt Qing began “tidying” the room—not to make it clean, but to make it messy, so it would look like a sickroom, and started brewing thick, dark medicinal soup.
Li Zhao hopped about, exhausting himself until he was drenched in sweat and breathless, then lay in bed pretending to be near death.
“Bai Mo, how is Yulang? Can he get out of bed?”
“Master, the young master just awoke and is terribly weak. He can’t even get out of bed, and his mind isn’t clear!”
“Oh, is that so?”
“How dare I lie, master? If you don’t believe me, please come in and see for yourself.”
...
Soon, heavy footsteps approached, and three figures entered the bedroom. The leader, a middle-aged man, was the traitorous Li De.
What does the traitor look like? Broom-shaped brows, triangular eyes, a flat nose, swollen eyes... and a big melon-shaped head?
Sorry to disappoint—Li De wasn’t ugly at all; in fact, his features were regular and dignified, a handsome man. If not, he could never have deceived two generations of the Li family with his appearance!
Beside him was his wife, Lady Zheng. Her features were delicate, her figure average. In youth, she was considered a beauty, but now, nearing forty, her charms had faded.
It would be one thing if age alone diminished her looks, but she lacked self-awareness, insisting on dressing as a young maiden, her hair stuffed with jewels and ornaments, her face caked in powder half an inch thick, lips painted a bloody red—as if she’d just eaten a dead child. The sight was nauseating.
Yet, despite her appearance, her family background was respectable. Her clan was one of the leading households locally; her father served as the county assistant of Wu’an County, an eighth-rank official. Though not a high rank, in a small place like Wu’an, he was all-powerful.
Li De’s ability to seize the Li estate depended greatly on his father-in-law’s influence.
Following the couple was a young man, tall and handsome, though his eye sockets were dark—a clear sign of indulgence in wine and women. Upon entering, he stared incessantly at Aunt Qing, secretly wiping his mouth several times.
This was the estate’s chief steward, and Lady Zheng’s cousin, named Huang You—but everyone preferred to call him “Weasel.”
He matched all the traits of a weasel: cunning, greedy, stingy, and his words stank more than flatulence.
Moreover, rumor had it “Weasel” actually wasn’t related to Lady Zheng at all. He was originally a local rogue, but as his looks weren’t bad and he was skilled at sweet-talking women, he seduced Lady Zheng. For convenience in their trysts, he became the chief steward.
Whenever Li De left the estate, the two would secretly rendezvous, engaging in all sorts of sordid acts. The servants all knew—an open secret.
“Yulang, are you feeling better?”
*Cough, cough!*
“Yulang, I am your uncle.”
*Cough, cough!*
“Yulang?”
*Cough, cough... cough!*
Li De stood at the bedside, feigning concern while probing his condition.
No matter what he asked, Li Zhao kept his eyes closed, coughing constantly, acting as though he was at death’s door, about to report to the King of Hell.
Seeing this, Li De and Lady Zheng exchanged glances, both eyes gleaming with delight.
Earlier, they had instructed their sons to push Li Zhao into the well, hoping to seize the estate permanently. Unexpectedly, the boy’s luck was great—after three days unconscious, he survived, disappointing the family.
Now it seemed Li Zhao hadn’t died, but wouldn’t last long—ten days or half a month at most. No further effort would be needed.
“Take good care of Yulang, and report any issues promptly!”
“Yes, master!”
After a few more idle words, Li De, Lady Zheng, and Steward Huang left, returning to celebrate.
Once they departed the shrine, Li Zhao jumped out of bed, stretched his limbs, and grinned mischievously—today’s strategy was like Sima Yi feigning illness to trick Cao Shuang.
First, pretend to be sick and lull the enemy into complacency; then, when the time is right, pounce and destroy them!