Chapter 55: The Wang Clan of Taiyuan

The Wang clan of Taiyuan stands like a towering peak in the river of history, its silhouette casting a shadow over various eras while remaining shrouded in the mist of common perception.

When the Wang clan of Taiyuan is mentioned, many people have merely heard the name without gaining any deep understanding of this illustrious and powerful family.

While people might be aware that noble families wield immense influence, just how far does this influence truly reach? It remains as obscure as flowers viewed through the mist.

Since the dawn of the Han Dynasty, the Wang family has produced numerous luminaries like brilliant stars.

Consider Wang Yun, the Minister of the Interior in the late Eastern Han Dynasty, who masterfully plotted to eliminate Dong Zhuo. Amidst the shifting and volatile political landscape, he attempted with his single strength to turn the tide and rescue a collapsing regime. Yet, behind his actions, was this not merely the suffering of the common people caught in the power struggles of various factions?

Wang Chang, the Minister of Works during the Cao Wei period, maneuvered freely in the imperial court and rendered monumental services to the Cao Wei regime. However, behind these glorious achievements, how many ordinary people served as mere stepping stones for their ascent?

As time flowed on to the glorious era of the Tang Dynasty, Wang Bo, with his breathtaking and peerless talent, left behind immortal masterpieces such as *Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng*. Yet, behind the creation of these magnificent verses lay the grueling toil of countless ordinary folk who provided the material foundation—and who may even have suffered oppression amid the Wang family's expansion and resource acquisition.

The poetry of Wang Zhihuan and Wang Changling has been praised across the ages. Yet, as members of the Taiyuan Wang clan who enjoyed the resources and status bestowed by their lineage, perhaps the silent sighs of the common people echoed along the paths of their achievements.

Then there was Wang Wei, a figure later jested about by posterity as a "netizen poet."

"These are no ordinary red beans; these are the red beans from Wang Wei's poems." His verses were exquisite and moving, filled with Chan tranquility and artistic beauty.

Yet people often overlook that the resources and status he possessed were bestowed by his family, and the clan's prosperity had accumulated over generations. How much of this was built upon the exploitation of ordinary people?

Every single one of their achievements resembles a towering pagoda constructed from the piled bones of the common folk. Though outwardly glorious, it conceals countless sorrows and profound darkness.

Behind the glory of these aristocratic clans lies the blood and tears of countless obscured, ordinary souls.

Within the ancient and illustrious residence of the Taiyuan Wang clan, carved beams and painted pillars displayed absolute luxury, exuding an air of lofty majesty at every turn.

Wang Qizhao, the head of the Wang household, was comfortably reclining on an exquisite carved wooden lounge chair, leisurely sipping tea.

He held a precious teacup in his hand, which emitted a warm luster under the sunlight, resembling a rare treasure.

"The goods from the Qianyu Chamber of Commerce are truly exceptional."

Wang Qizhao narrowed his eyes slightly, speaking with an intoxicated expression.

"This new tea carries a refreshing fragrance; it is brewed from the very first flush of early spring tea leaves, mixed with morning dew. It is fresh, elegant, and indescribably wonderful."

He took another gentle sip, savored the lingering aftertaste, and instructed the servant beside him.

"Have someone go and order another batch from the Qianyu Chamber of Commerce!"

"Understood, master!"

The servant responded respectfully and then withdrew silently.

Wang Qizhao slowly sat up and stretched, as if intending to lie back down to enjoy this pleasant moment.

However, at that very moment, an itch suddenly flared up in his throat, and a surge of phlegm rose uncontrollably.

His brow furrowed, and a look of displeasure crossed his face.

Not far from him stood a young woman with delicate features.

She had been abducted from the countryside by the Wang family and forced to serve Wang Qizhao here.

At this sight, her heart skipped a beat in panic. Trembling all over, she hastily prostrated herself on the floor and opened her mouth wide, her eyes filled with terror and helplessness, waiting to catch Wang Qizhao's phlegm.

Wang Qizhao frowned deeply and coughed harshly. A glob of phlegm flew straight toward the girl.

Perhaps out of nervousness, the girl instinctively tilted her head slightly. The phlegm missed its mark, failing to land in her mouth as Wang Qizhao desired; instead, it stuck to her cheek and slowly slid down.

"Hmph!"

At this, anger instantly surged within Wang Qizhao, the muscles on his fleshy face twitching slightly with fury.

He abruptly stood up, his massive frame kicking up a gust of wind that caused the nearby teacup to rattle.

He strode over to the girl, his eyes blazing with rage, and delivered two hard kicks to her head. While kicking her, he cursed viciously, "Useless trash! When you saw your master coughing, couldn't you crawl closer and suck it out for me?"

"You cheap-boned bitch, you are utterly stupid! As base as your worthless mother, you can't even lick up shit properly!"

panting heavily, he continued his tirade, "Truly uncultured peasants from the countryside—no matter how you teach them, they never learn. As for trash like you, just wait for your entire family to starve to death! This is the price of offending my Wang family."

Hearing these words, the girl's face turned instantly pale, her heart filled with fear and despair.

Her family was still struggling in the countryside. If her own mistake deprived them of their sole hope of survival, her guilt would be unforgivable.

Disregarding everything, she crawled toward Wang Qizhao, trying to grab his leg and beg for mercy.

"Get away!" Seeing her crawling toward him, Wang Qizhao's eyes flashed with disgust, and he kicked her away forcefully once more.

The girl's frail body flew like a withered leaf, crashing heavily against a nearby pillar before collapsing to the ground.

"Disgusting creature, you almost soiled my clothes."

Wang Qizhao looked down at his attire and said with utter revulsion.

"Wang Yi, drag her away, clean her up a bit, and send her to the magistrate's office. Those officials love this kind of unruly peasant scum. Let the authorities deal with her properly, and let it serve as a warning to the other lowly commoners!"

Wang Qizhao shouted toward Wang Yi, a servant standing not far away.

"Understood, master!"

Wang Yi replied with a respectful expression, his eyes devoid of the slightest trace of sympathy, showing only absolute obedience to his master's command.

The woman's face was ashen; she knew she had fallen into a desperate abyss.

Her eyes were hollow and vacant, as if her soul had been ripped away. She could only allow the Wang family retainers to drag her away like a worn-out rag. Her world collapsed completely at that moment, leaving behind only endless darkness and despair.

Wang Yi instructed the servants at the door to drag the woman away, treating her like a sack of lifeless, heavy cargo, leaving a long, despairing trail across the corridors of the Wang estate.

The woman's body scraped against the rough ground, her clothes tattered and her skin covered in abrasions oozing blood. Yet she could no longer feel the pain; her eyes held only a profound anxiety for her family's fate and an endless sorrow for her own plight.

"Wash her up and use her however you like, but remember to send her to the yamen when you are done."

"Those officials are only fit to use what our Wang family discards."

Wang Yi said coldly, a look of utter contempt on his face.