Chapter 93: Who Says Young Men Cannot Yearn for Love?

Two days after the Lesser Heat, Zhong Ming’s family had been drinking mung bean soup for two consecutive days, and Meng Teng’s old horse carriage made two trips to the Muddy Village.

In the afternoon, Zhong Ming finished reading the letter in his hand and casually burned it.

The envelope slowly turned to ashes inside the stove, and Zhong Ming fell into deep thought, the flickering firelight reflecting in his eyes.

On the day Li Jianye entered Luoyang city, the ministers unanimously escorted him into the Hall of Mental Cultivation, a clear sign of popular support.

Typically, the civil officials, skilled only in literary arts, took up their Tang swords and, relying on their official hats and robes, accompanied the Crown Prince all the way into the hall to meet the Emperor.

That night, Emperor Tangzhen Li Yuan issued an edict: he relieved the Second Crown Prince Li Shicheng of his regency duties and assigned him to oversee the construction of the Moon Immortal Palace at a palace outside Luoyang.

The Eldest Crown Prince Li Jianye then took over the regency, appearing to enjoy great prestige, as if he had gained the upper hand in the battle to reclaim Luoyang.

However, the Emperor made no mention of the two crown princes’ status as heirs apparent.

Everyone understood the implication clearly: without an imperial decree, Li Yuan could no longer control the situation. The struggle for succession continued, and the outcome remained uncertain.

For the dust to settle, someone must hold the Imperial Jade Seal and sit upon the Dragon Throne adorned with nine coiled dragons.

Many could not understand why the Eldest Crown Prince, having been away from the capital for two years, could suddenly overpower Li Shicheng.

Zhong Ming, however, knew full well.

When Li Jianye left the frontier, he was escorted by Yu Tu’s men all the way into Luoyang, breaking into the Hall of Mental Cultivation; behind it all was the shadow of Bai Yujing.

Rumors had long spread that Prince Qin Li Shicheng resented Bai Yujing’s control. He believed that Bai Yujing’s intervention in state affairs excessively influenced the New Tang court, turning the royal family into mere puppets—hence his poor relationship with Bai Yujing.

Li Shicheng was a prince forged in battlefields; his wild spirit would never allow anyone to stand over him.

Naturally, Bai Yujing would not favor Li Shicheng, whose goal was to break free from their control.

Zhong Ming suspected that when Li Jianye left the frontier, he had already reached some agreement with Yu Tu. This battle was won because Li Jianye had Bai Yujing’s backing.

In the end, these were all matters of the Li Tang royal family, and Zhong Ming did not worry much about them.

As long as Li Jianye lived, Zhong Ming could account for Li Wangye’s affairs—that was enough.

“Carpenter Li, may you soon wear the nine-clawed dragon robe.”

Zhong Ming sighed deeply and turned to leave the room.

Stretching lazily, he glanced around the courtyard and saw the colorful-feathered rooster lying beneath the small willow tree, cooing softly as if pretending to nap.

The weather was growing hotter, making not only people reluctant to move but even the Iron General lethargic. Except for crowing twice at dawn, the creature mostly lounged under the small willow tree seeking shade.

The spiritual energy emanating from the immortal mountain was thinning, and the small willow tree had stopped its rapid growth over the past two days.

Nonetheless, its canopy was taller than the small house, lush and vibrant with life.

From beyond the wall came steady snores—it was Liang Yu napping. Since the Lesser Heat began, this fellow had been sleeping through the day and night, easily clocking seven or eight hours daily.

No wonder the Iron General was sluggish; it probably inherited its master’s temperament.

Listening to the thunderous snoring, Zhong Ming shook his head and called out a few times: “Liang Hei, time to get up!”

After several calls, Liang Hei remained fast asleep, unmoved even by thunder.

Zhong Ming gave up on waking him; Liang Hei was always like this.

He sat by the stone table, poured himself a cup of cold tea, and recited softly, “Heaven and earth, a great kiln; the sun’s charcoal cooks June. All things are forged and melted here—how can man complain of heat?”

The sweltering weather had already caused two children in the village to suffer heatstroke, frightening the women into keeping their kids indoors.

Zhong Ming’s gaze shifted toward the Suiyun mountain range—not at the towering immortal mountain itself, but at the continuous ridges beyond.

“It’s been ten days since Miss Yu Bai left. She still hasn’t returned—could something have happened?”

Frowning, Zhong Ming was deeply concerned.

Ever since that spirited young woman borrowed the old horse to venture into the mountains, Zhong Ming had been counting days on his fingers, worried something might befall her.

The night before, he had dreamt of Yu Bai riding the old horse wildly through the mountains, her face filled with terror.

This was no good omen, and Zhong Ming awoke with a heavy knot in his chest, tightening uncomfortably.

The weather grew ever hotter. Even if the tigers and leopards of the Suiyun Mountains posed no threat to her, could this delicate daughter of a great sword immortal endure such heat?

The more he thought about it, the deeper his frown grew.

Unconsciously, that young woman from Sword Cliff had taken root in his heart and sprouted.

Zhong Ming’s dazed expression now mirrored his own at seventeen or eighteen years old.

Outside, cicadas sang in the summer heat; inside, the teacher strained his voice lecturing while classmates fought drowsiness—only the youth propped his cheek on his hand, gazing out the window, his heart endlessly thinking of a girl.

Her every frown, every smile, every word appeared vividly in his mind.

Again and again.

If this continued without end, he would be very happy.

Who said youth never feels love? It’s only that such feelings are seldom spoken aloud.

Zhong Ming’s gaze grew even more distant, as if he could see that young woman clad in black battle attire somewhere in the endless mountains.

At that moment, the sound of horse hooves striking the earth came from afar—a carriage was approaching.

Zhong Ming snapped back to reality and looked toward the village path. It was not the old rickety carriage; it wasn’t the Jishitang carriage.

Two chestnut horses pulled a carriage bearing the official’s flag—it was a government carriage.

Zhong Ming narrowed his eyes, unable to guess what matter the county magistrate of He County might have to see him about.

The carriage stopped before Zhong Ming’s courtyard. First, the lean clerk climbed down and lifted the curtain; then the magistrate of He County slowly descended from the carriage.

Setting down his teacup, Zhong Ming smiled broadly and greeted him, “Is that not Magistrate He? Forgive my lack of preparation!”

Wiping sweat from his brow, Magistrate He laughed heartily, “Mr. Zhong, long time no see!”

After some polite banter with the old fox, Zhong Ming invited him inside and poured a cup of cold tea.

Magistrate He praised the tea repeatedly, “Exquisite! Even more fragrant than my Morning Dew Longjing!”

Naturally—the tea was Morning Dew Longjing personally roasted by Zhang Nianchen, incomparable to the counterfeit Longjing in Magistrate He’s household.

Zhong Ming sipped the tea, squinting slightly. “Magistrate He, you don’t come here without reason. What brings you today?”

“Mr. Zhong, how can you say such things!”

He chuckled awkwardly and motioned with his hand.

The clerk behind him immediately placed a bundle on the stone table and unwrapped it, revealing fifteen gold ingots glittering on the surface.

Zhong Ming frowned slightly and asked, “Magistrate He, you bring such a generous gift—what business do you propose?”

Rubbing his hands nervously, Magistrate He said, “Mr. Zhong, I wish to purchase something from you.”

“What is it?”

Zhong Ming’s heart began to race. Magistrate He was known as a stingy miser.

Outsiders often said he was like a mythical beast that only hoards, never spends; once silver passed into his hands, it never flowed back out.

Now, with fifteen gold ingots laid before him, this was a considerable sum anywhere—clearly, this matter was serious.

Magistrate He pushed the gold forward and whispered, “Mr. Zhong, I want to buy back the property and land deeds of the Wu estate.”