You're Strong But Now You're Mine

Chapter 89 - 88 Silver and Blood

Chapter 89: Chapter 88 Silver and BloodWhen the blazing sun slanted westward, a luxurious carriage rolled through the Summer Snow Gate of Xuanzhu County. The City Guards, busy checking permits, glanced at the thornblossom banner with its silver trim and red background on the carriage, and immediately called for commoners to make way, while those queueing crowded to the sides, letting the four-horse carriage enter the inner city with ease.

Crests were a common accessory symbolizing status in the Dongyang district. Across Xuanzhu County, there were hundreds of various trade associations, all in need of conspicuous signs to proclaim their identity. Some simply used their surnames, some tried to be cultured with famous paintings, and animal or plant motifs were always a hit.

But only members of the eighty-eight trade associations of the Silver Blood Association could use a silver border on their emblems, and if the background was red, well, that was even bigger—marking the owner as part of the Standing Council, made up of the ten top-ranking companies in the Silver Blood Association.

But to ordinary folks, it was all the same—people they couldn’t afford to mess with, and really, that was the whole point of such emblems, wasn’t it? "You know who I am, don’t you?"—shouting that and then beating someone up was too crass, too nouveau riche. The real old money should get their respect just from the crest alone—everyone recognizes you can’t be provoked, so they bow and scrape and obey, and thus, a world where nobody gets hurt is achieved.

After all, who liked getting angry?

Leyu lifted the curtain and took in the view of the wide moat, thinking, "Xuanzhu County really is flush." The county was split into three sections: factory villages outside the moat, the outer city between the moat and the inner sea, and the inner city—separated by the inner sea, sitting on the Xuanzhu Peninsula.

The moat was fed by sea water, the outer city wall high and stout, with the advantage of sea transport. Matched with the Heyang Army for mutual support, the city was clearly a fortress not easily stormed. Still, city defenses were ultimately manned by people. Leyu took a look at those soldiers strutting around in uniform and didn’t think they could hold a candle to the Star Engraving County City Guard Department.

This city might not withstand a real army, but for suppressing riots, it would be plenty. As long as the gates were closed and both sides were sea, nobody could go in or out.

"Sir."

Mi Die leaned near the carriage and asked, "Home or Jing Garden?"

Leyu didn’t react at first and had to dig through his brain to recall that Combat Technique—well, okay, Zhengwei—actually had two homes. One was Jing Garden, the main residence where the Jing family lived, sprawling and managed for years, with little towers and pavilions dotting the grounds—one of those places that could eventually be named a national historic monument after a few centuries.

The other was Zhengwei’s own house—his real home ever since his mother died. Since then, he rarely visited Jing Garden. Outside of holidays, he always stayed in his outer city residence, which, while not inferior in comfort, offered him total freedom.

But of course, that freedom came with a price because all Jing family power was held by the Patriarch—that being Zhengwei’s father. When Zhengwei was away from Jing Garden, his brothers naturally got more attention from the Patriarch, and so Zhengwei’s status as "the first heir" grew shaky.

Just like how princes who wanted the crown stuck around in the Capital, while the hopeless ones got sent off as leisure lords. But Zhengwei believed that since his mother died, his father had no use for him anyway, so instead of staying in Jing Garden being stuck under someone’s thumb, waiting around to die, he might as well go out and try to make something of himself.

Even if all he got from the Jing family was "little resources" like Red Moon Fortress, Zhengwei was still, on paper, the first heir, and the Jing family’s connections were his to use as he wished. That right there was his truest treasure.

After years of cunning moves—let’s be real, that’s how business was done here—Zhengwei had built up his own fortune. Maybe he couldn’t compete with his brothers who had their mother’s families backing them, but he still had to be reckoned with—he might yet snatch the seat of Patriarch.

Thinking this through, Leyu replied, "Home."

Leyu really didn’t care to ponder Zhengwei’s scheming. He chose not to go to Jing Garden for one reason only: He had no interest in meeting Zhengwei’s relatives, and he definitely wasn’t about to start calling anyone "Dad."

If every time you swapped bodies you got new parents, what did that make Leyu—someone else’s flunky? Calling strangers brother or sister or wife, fine, but new parents, not happening.

Maybe he’d visit Jing Garden after the Patriarch was dead.

Dusk settled, but the streets only got livelier. Xuanzhu County, like Star Engraving County, might skimp on some public services, but street lights? Absolutely everywhere, lighting up the night markets.

Passing through Main Gate Stone Street, Leyu nearly thought he had gone back to his old life in a small county town. Wide streets lined with shops, shadowed signboards hanging high for attention, all sorts of businesses, vendors everywhere shouting, some pushing carts, others lugging racks, and even a few just stashing goods in their jacket pockets, flashing them open at passersby, muttering, "Want one? Want one?" The whole vibe was a weird mash-up of exhibitionist and secretive, and Leyu felt tempted to see if they were peddling porn mags.

There were open-air storytelling venues and theater stages galore—old traditions in full swing, since folks always preferred to listen to books than to read them. Leyu spotted a storytelling stand hung with a sign reading, "God of Fire Legend, Volume II, Chapter 88: The Beauty’s Venom Hard to Break, Fire God’s Magic Hands Delight the Night." Leyu instantly decided he had to buy the set later and give it a look.

Really, the censors these days just weren’t doing their jobs. Trashy novels were getting away with bawdy stories—Leyu figured he’d give them a good critical takedown.

Just then, Leyu suddenly saw a Combat Technique tournament stage!

Two duelists were playing cards above, a commentator explaining things on the side. When one duelist lost, the commentator boomed, "What a shame! ’Wolf Eagle School’s 91 Hermit’ just barely loses to ’Sword School’s Eastward Stream!’ That ends the Hermit’s three-win run for promotion. This is already his third try aiming for ’First-Generation Legend’—let’s hope he bounces back and rises again..."

"Next up, ’Lingxu School’s Moon Half-son’ versus ’Heqi School’s Mr. Kouhe.’ Moon Half-son, I’m betting on you this match—secretly supporting you, but don’t tell anyone!"

So, they had Combat Technique tournaments here? With ranked divisions?

Leyu had only ever heard of such competitions in Yanjing, didn’t expect Xuanzhu County to have them, too.

Guess that proved Star Engraving County was a third-rate backwater with nothing going for it.

Before Leyu could see more, the carriage had made it home.

"Welcome home, sir."

A well-groomed, scholarly butler led a group of servants out to greet Leyu. Butler Shen Hong had been with Zhengwei for many years, practically a confidant. Seeing Leyu, Shen Hong doffed his hat and offered a polite, sincerely happy smile, "Dinner and the bath are ready, sir. Would you like to bathe and freshen up first, or eat first?"

"Bath first."

Even though Leyu hadn’t felt the least bit tired on the journey—the carriage was steady, the roads smooth, and he’d spent it all lying on Qing Lan’s lap—just the act of bathing before eating made the meal taste all the better, like kicking off the evening with a little ceremony.

No need to pull at memories, the maids escorted Leyu straight to the bath. Not just some rickety wooden tub, either, but a stone bathhouse like a mini indoor pool. As Leyu prepared to undress, he realized two pretty young maids were still there, eagerly helping him out of his clothes.

No way—was Zhengwei not going to let him even take a bath alone?

Leyu

The clock on the desk rang and Leyu realized he’d thought his way to eleven o’clock. "Damn, too much work. Qing Lan’s probably in bed warming it up already—time to sleep~"

Leyu left the study, and on the way to the bedroom, he suddenly heard angry shouting from the next courtyard.

"...Sir fed you, clothed you, and this is how you repay him? Where’s Rongyao? Out with it, where did he run off to!?"

"Head Steward, it was Rongyao who tricked Shuangye—please, I beg you, spare Shuangye—"

"Spare her? So you all learn from those two and elope, and when you win, you live your little happy life, when you lose the house forgives you? You think the world works that way?"

"Head Steward, wait—Shuangye, tell him where Rongyao’s waiting for you!"

When Leyu entered the courtyard, he saw Zilan get slapped aside by Steward Shen. A few Guards and maids were gathered around, while the round-faced Shuangye knelt with her hands bound behind her, body covered in bruises.

Even from the shouting, Leyu could basically fill in the blanks. He rushed forward, yelling, "Steward Shen, wait—"

But before he could finish, Steward Shen suddenly whipped out a Guard’s sword and swung—

"...Wait."

Leyu froze, staring at the girl who, just hours ago, had giggled and chatted with him. Now her head was spinning through the air, rolling to the side with a thud, blood pouring like rain and soaking into the dirt.

Suddenly, he remembered what Yin Minghong had once told him—

"Every inch of Dongyang’s land runs with silver and blood."