PCA Chapter 63

When dawn broke, Su Cen went straight to the Dali Temple to request a month’s leave from Zhang Jun.

 

“Reason for the leave?” Zhang Jun frowned at him.

 

“Reason…” Su Cen feigned a thoughtful expression. “Perhaps, Lord Zhang, you’d like me to go back and ask His Highness?”

 

“Sick leave! Sick leave! No need to disturb His Highness,” Zhang Jun quickly replied. “Take as long as you need. Just make sure you recover fully before returning.”

 

“Many thanks, Lord Zhang,” Su Cen smiled faintly. After taking a couple of steps toward the door, he turned back. “This is a private matter. His Highness hopes Lord Zhang can keep it discreet.”

 

Zhang Jun nodded hurriedly. “Of course, of course. That goes without saying.”

 

Watching Su Cen exit, Zhang Jun let out a breath of relief. However, as soon as he looked up, a head poked back through the door.

 

“Oh, Lord Zhang, about my orchids…”

 

“I’ll take care of them! Water them, right? Give them sunlight, right?” Zhang Jun waved impatiently. “I’ve got it, you little troublemaker. Now go!”

 

“Many thanks, Lord Zhang.” Su Cen chuckled, finally satisfied as he left.

 

“One month…” Zhang Jun muttered at Su Cen’s retreating figure, clicking his tongue. “Will he even be able to get out of bed?”

 

On his way back, Su Cen stopped by the Ning residence. He had promised Old Master Ning he’d visit during his time off. Now that he was heading out of town, he decided to drop by and let the old man know in advance, sparing him from waiting in vain.

 

Unlike yesterday, the weather was sunny. Instead of strolling in the backyard, Old Master Ning was inside, steeping tea.

 

Now retired, the old man spent his days gardening, bird-watching, listening to opera, and drinking tea. The tea Su Cen brewed for him the previous day had been delightful, and he decided to try making it himself. Unfortunately, no matter what he did, it lacked something.

 

When he saw Su Cen arrive, the old man beamed with joy, immediately pulling him over to demonstrate again.

 

Su Cen glanced at the tea set and shook his head. “You’re doing it wrong.”

 

“What’s wrong?” The old man frowned. “It’s the same tea as yesterday, the same water too.”

 

Su Cen smiled, scooping a small amount of tea leaves into a cup and grinding them with a jade pestle. As he worked, he explained, “Crush the tea cake into fine powder. When the water just begins to boil, pour it directly over the powdered tea. This way, the tea and water blend perfectly, creating a rich, concentrated brew with a more enduring aroma.”

 

Ning Yi nodded intently, absorbing every word. Watching Su Cen’s graceful movements as he handled the tea tools, like flowing water and clouds, Ning Yi admired him even more, once again entertaining the idea of keeping him around.

 

However, Su Cen simply shook his head with a smile, explaining that he had recently taken on a major case and had come today only to bid farewell. He promised to visit again to apologize upon his return.

 

“A major case?” Ning Yi frowned, pondering. Though he no longer meddled in court affairs, he wasn’t entirely out of touch. Thinking it over, he realized there hadn’t been any significant cases in the capital recently. He looked to Su Cen, waiting for clarification.

 

“Regarding the salt trade in Huaixi,” Su Cen said straightforwardly, unwilling to hide anything from this veteran of four dynasties. “It’s an old issue, deeply rooted and rife with corruption. My goal is to uproot it.”

 

Ning Yi furrowed his brows and sighed. “That brat Li Shi is finally targeting the regulations his father put in place?”

 

Su Cen said, “Everything must progress with the times. Back during the tense wartime, the Salt Monopoly Decree indeed alleviated the treasury’s shortfall. But now, in this era of peace, where the focus should be on restoring the people’s livelihood, those old rules no longer apply. The salt merchants, having tasted the benefits of the monopoly, have grown increasingly audacious over the years. They’ve exploited the people long enough to recoup their investment, yet they remain insatiable, constantly increasing their profits. At its core, the Salt Monopoly Decree was just the court outsourcing salt production. Now, we’re merely asking them to return it. If anything, we haven’t even demanded interest yet. But some people fail to see this. They think what’s in their hands belongs to them, clinging to it desperately. The tighter they hold on, the more they expose themselves as targets. Competing with the court is a losing game—they’ll only meet a quicker end.”

 

Ning Yi finally nodded in agreement but added, “What you say is reasonable, but that rule was, after all, left by Emperor Taizong. A son overturning his father’s legacy is a slap in the face, no matter how you spin it. You must remember: public opinion is a powerful force. While you pursue substance, you must also preserve appearances. If things become difficult to manage, you may have to offer an explanation.”

 

Su Cen could tell Ning Yi was looking out for him. This matter touched on the royal family’s dignity. Even if he succeeded, there was no guarantee of personal gain. If he failed, he would become a scapegoat. Corruption between officials and merchants ran deep. Almost every local official had ties to the salt merchants. By cutting off their profits, Su Cen might ruin careers or even lives, provoking their wrath. If the court found itself backed into a corner, Su Cen could easily be sacrificed, labeled as someone who disrespected his ancestors. Even Li Shi might not be able to protect him.

 

Su Cen had considered all this the night before. Yet, corruption left unchecked would only worsen. Someone had to remove the rot. If Feng Yiming could do it, so could he.

 

Before leaving, Su Cen couldn’t help but ask, “Do you still remember Feng Yiming?”

 

Ning Yi squinted, pondering for a moment before giving a meaningful “Oh” of recognition. “Xiao Feng? Is he still at the Censorate?”

 

“You know him?” Su Cen was slightly surprised. Ning Yi had stayed out of politics for years, yet he remembered a minor censor from the Censorate?

 

“He’s quite a clever child; I think he was one of those who ranked second in palace examination,” Ning Yi mused, nodding. “Yes, Li Shi brought him here once. I recall him. Haven’t seen him in a while, though. Where is he now?”

 

Su Cen visibly stiffened. After steadying himself, he forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. “Does His Highness often bring people back?”

 

“Not too often,” Ning Yi replied, counting on his fingers. “There was Xiao Chen, Xiao Zhang, Xiao Li… Who else?”

 

Watching Su Can leave with barely concealed anger on his face, Old Master Ning felt quite pleased as he strolled back leisurely. If Li Shi won’t let him keep him, then let him deal with his own mess.

 

Su Cen walked away with a stormy expression, exuding a freezing aura that seemed to drop the temperature within three feet around him. His brisk stride attracted curious glances from passersby.

 

He was furious—furious at Li Shi’s skillful deception, treating him like a child to be appeased with sweet words, all while leaving behind a trail of questionable behavior. He was even angrier at himself for being so naive as to believe in sweet words spoken in bed and mistaking insincere affection for genuine feelings. But there was no outlet for his anger. He couldn’t very well confront Li Shi and demand an explanation for all the “Xiao Fengs, Xiao Chens, Xiao Zhangs, and Xiao Lis” that came before him. After all, he couldn’t expect Li Shi to have remained celibate during the twenty years before they met. Li Shi was a man, and not just any man—one in the prime of his life. It would be far more suspicious if there hadn’t been anyone before.

 

Thus, he found himself trapped between silent resentment and the fear of appearing petty if he voiced his grievances.

 

On further reflection, Su Cen realized Li Shi’s praise of Feng Yiming’s cleverness last night had likely been a deliberate move—to provoke his competitive spirit and ensure he took on the case.

 

The most infuriating thing was that Su Cen knew full well that Li Shi had set a trap for him, yet he could do nothing but step into it willingly. Li Shi understood his temperament inside and out. Su Cen refused to admit defeat, refused to back down. If Feng Yiming could do something, he could too. And if Feng Yiming couldn’t, he had to succeed.

 

Fuming, Su Cen stormed back to the Su residence. The sun was already high in the sky, but the house was unusually quiet—no sign of Ah Fu cleaning, nor of Qu Ling’er causing his usual ruckus.

 

Passing by the west wing where Qu Ling’er resided, Su Cen couldn’t resist knocking on the door. He knocked three times before hearing the faint rustling of movement inside. Just as he was about to push the door open, it swung inward.

 

Su Cen froze at the sight of the person who opened the door. After a long pause, he finally said, “Qi Lin… what are you doing here?”

 

Qi Lin didn’t answer, instead glancing back into the room. Only then did Qu Ling’er poke his head out timidly. “Su-Su-Su Brother Su… why are you back at this hour? Why didn’t you go to the office? I… I… drank too much yesterday, and Qi… Brother Qi also drank too much… so he stayed here overnight…”

 

Only then did Su Cen remember the two jars of osmanthus wine from the night before. He hadn’t touched them, and apparently, they had gone to someone else’s benefit.

 

“Stayed the night?” Su Cen’s gaze swept over the two. Qi Lin was dressed only in his undershirt and trousers, while Qu Ling’er’s state was even worse—wearing nothing but his undergarments, which had clearly been hastily put on moments before.

 

The person he had been taking care of for half a year had likely been snatched away by someone else.

 

“My apologies,” Qi Lin said calmly, his expression unchanging.

 

“No need to apologize,” Su Cen said as he walked into the room uninvited and sat down at the table. His sharp eyes narrowed dangerously as he gestured to the two of them. “Sit.”

 

Qi Lin dragged a stool over and sat down casually. Qu Ling’er, however, hesitated, staring at the hard wooden stool with unease. After much dithering, he finally said, “Brother Su, my… my butt hurts… I’d rather not sit.”

 

“What happened to your butt?”

 

“I-I… fell… yesterday, when I was drunk…” Qu Ling’er stammered, hesitating.

 

That excuse wasn’t new. Su Cen nodded knowingly, a smirk playing at his lips as he said, “There’s some dried Sichuan lovage root in the backyard. I’ll have it applied to your injury later.”

 

“No need, Su Brother,” Qu Ling’er waved his hands in panic, sneaking a glance at Qi Lin before muttering, “It might be an internal injury. I’ll just rest for a couple of days.”

 

Last night, the two of them had finished off Su Cen’s two jars of osmanthus wine and, still unsatisfied, had raided his stash for two more jars of huadiao. By the end of it, Qu Ling’er had completely lost track of time and place. When he woke up, he found himself stark naked, his arms tightly wrapped around Qi Lin. Any slight movement sent pain shooting through his waist and backside.

 

He couldn’t recall what had happened the night before. This left him constantly sneaking glances at Qi Lin, who, to his dismay, was ignoring him completely and sitting there primly, as if he were a different person from the night before.

 

Although he had been drunk, Qu Ling’er distinctly remembered hearing Qi Lin call him Ling’er in his ear. And he definitely remembered… a kiss.

 

Yet now, Qi Lin was acting like nothing had happened, as if their intimacy had been a dream. Qu Ling’er, with his sore waist and aching backside, had said nothing, but Qi Lin looked like he was the wronged party.

 

“An internal injury, hmm,” Su Cen said meaningfully, nodding before turning to Qi Lin. “I leave my residence for one night, and my person ends up with internal injuries in Guard Qi’s care. I believe Guard Qi owes me an explanation?”

 

Su Cen’s smile was as radiant as a flower, but his tone was anything but pleasant. If I can’t take it out on your master, I’ll just vent my anger on you instead.

 

“Brother Su, Brother Su, no need…” Qu Ling’er blushed as he shot another glance at Qi Lin and muttered, “No need for an explanation…”

 

Su Cen shot Qu Ling’er with a withering glare. With such little ambition, it’s no wonder he got taken advantage of while helping others pull up their pants.

 

Qi Lin’s expression was icy, his face stern. “What kind of explanation does Lord Su want?”

 

Su Cen sat back down, his demeanor turning serious as he addressed Qi Lin. “As the saying goes, ‘An elder brother is like a father.’ Since Ling’er calls me Brother Su, I can’t just stand by and let him be taken advantage of. This time, Ling’er drank too much and was wronged—I’ll let it slide.”

 

“Actually, I don’t feel wronged…”

 

“Be quiet,” Su Cen shot

Qu Ling’er a sharp look before continuing, “—but if there’s a next time, I expect everything to happen on Ling’er’s terms.”

 

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