Chapter 13: Cornered at the Eastern Depot, Part Two

“Brother Ruan, we meet again,” Yang Fan said, dismounting and approaching Ruan Qingzhu with a respectful bow.

“Ha ha, Brother Yang, Lord Tushan is unwell and unable to move about. He sent me to greet you on his behalf,” Ruan Qingzhu replied.

Yang Fan was slightly taken aback. He had long sensed a dangerous aura about this poisonous snake—something off from ordinary people. He hadn’t expected him to be an Eastern Depot spy secretly stationed in Zunhua.

Yet, on second thought, it wasn’t surprising. Zunhua was the iron smelting center of northern Ming, and Wei Bancheng controlled nearly a third of the iron output there. The court would surely keep a covert watch on the region. And Yang Fan was the only outsider in the Wei family.

“So it turns out, Brother Ruan is... ha ha, my ignorance is no excuse. I apologize for my earlier disrespect,” Yang Fan said, astonished, bowing with sincerity.

“Brother Yang, no need for formalities. We are all on the same side,” Ruan Qingzhu waved dismissively. “We shouldn’t keep Lord Tushan waiting. Come with me inside; the banquet is ready, just waiting for you.”

Yang Fan inwardly groaned at those words. Boarding was easy, but getting off was hard. He was a decent man—who wanted to mix with these unpopular outsiders? Though displeased, he forced a polite smile and bowed slightly.

“Ha ha, very well, Brother Ruan, lead the way.”

“Ha ha, Brother Yang, please.”

The two entered the inn and climbed to the second floor. Zhang Gada and the other three were left behind to be entertained on the first floor.

Upon entering the elegant chamber, Yang Fan saw Tushan seated in the main chair, looking much better; his wounds appeared to have been treated.

To Tushan’s left sat a young woman who sneered disdainfully when she saw Yang Fan, lifting her chin like a proud hen.

On the right sat a grim-faced man with one eye.

Beside him was a stunning woman, dressed alluringly yet innocently: a pale lilac upper garment resembling armor, paired with a pink horse-face skirt. Her eyebrows arched like distant mountains, skin smooth as jade, a delicate nose, and almond-shaped eyes gave her a fragile appearance.

“Ha ha ha, Brother Yang, please take a seat,” Tushan greeted warmly.

“Lord Tushan, you look much better. Your complexion is truly improved,” Yang Fan complimented.

“I’m barely holding on, not dying just yet. Enough of that—I’ll introduce some friends,” Tushan said, motioning to several people. “This is Yang Ji, Brother Yang’s kin, currently serving as a supervisor in the Eastern Depot’s Chen unit. He’s come specially from the capital to gather information. Please get to know each other.”

Yang Fan’s thoughts stirred. So this visitor was here on an investigation. It seemed the previous matters were serious. Since he hadn’t agreed to join the Eastern Depot, Tushan still dared to let him see himself. And as the Eastern Depot only had a thousand-man captain and a hundred-man captain, everyone else ranked below. This meant the man was definitely Tushan’s man.

“You’ve met this one before. Not bad for strangers to meet under such circumstances. This is Tushan Yue, head of the Chen unit,” the young woman snorted, acknowledging the introduction.

“As for Mr. Ruan, no need for lengthy introductions—you all know him. He’s a strategist for the Lin unit, akin to a military adviser,” Tushan said, pointing to the beautiful woman.

“This lovely lady is no ordinary figure. She’s on par with Tushan Yue, also a unit head under the Yin unit. Her name is Lin Yue Ru. Zunhua is her territory—I’m just a visitor here,” Tushan added.

Yang Fan’s heart tightened. This delicate-looking woman hardly seemed the virtuous type. To have risen to unit head in the Eastern Depot, commanding an entire district alone, she must either have powerful backing or exceptional skills.

He would soon need to live under her influence—offending her was unthinkable. Yang Fan stood solemnly and saluted.

“Greetings, Lady Lin.”

“Oh, no need for formal titles! I’m just the star courtesan of the Tianxiang Pavilion. Brother Yang, you must come support me sometime and help out my business,” Lin’s voice was like a yellow warbler’s first song—delightful and teasing, tickling the ears like a feather.

Her sweet voice quickened Yang Fan’s heartbeat and made his mouth dry. He hurried to suppress his wandering thoughts.

“Hmph,” Tushan Yue snorted coldly, her face clearly saying “shameless.”

She glared at Yang Fan. The boy acted all chivalrous with her but turned into a sycophant before this flirtatious woman. She wished she could kick him out.

After several rounds of wine and various dishes, the atmosphere grew merrier. All present knew Yang Fan had saved Tushan and his daughter, so they fawned over him unceasingly.

“Brother Yang, do you know why I was injured this time?” Tushan asked.

Yang Fan thought, here comes the main act. He wanted to say, “Not listening, not listening, like a turtle chanting scriptures.” But he expected Tushan wouldn’t give up easily. Since sticking his neck out meant a knife, and pulling back was no better, he’d play it by ear.

“This is a state secret. I’m just a commoner—not fit to hear it. Let’s talk of lighter things. Lord Tushan, gentlemen, I toast to you.” Yang Fan raised his cup and drank it down.

Everyone else followed suit.

“Heh heh, Brother Yang, you’re mistaken. You’re no longer just a commoner,” Tushan stroked his beard. “You’re now an officer of the Great Ming.”

“What? An officer?” Yang Fan nearly fell backward in shock.

He looked at Tushan bitterly, wanting to cry but with no tears. Ming military ranks included only two types of officers: hereditary guards and recruited camp soldiers. Camp soldiers had no rank, even the highest commander held none.

Judging by Tushan’s tone, the rank he sought for Yang Fan was not a rankless temp post. It could only be a hereditary guard position.

Hereditary guards were military households—hereditary and lifelong. Damn it, this meant even his descendants were tied down. Becoming a Ming military household was tantamount to entering servitude.

“Lord Tushan, this military household status isn’t a trivial matter. Please be gracious and spare me. In my next life, I’ll be an old hen laying double-yolk eggs for you every day,” Yang Fan joked.

Lin Yue Ru burst into a laugh, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him anew. For the first time, she examined this roguish lad carefully.

“Ha ha ha, little brother, you’re truly... um, charming,” Tushan chuckled, unable to hold back amusement.

“Someone, bring in the officer’s uniform for Lord Yang.”

The door to the private room was pulled open, and two officers clad in brocade armor entered, each carrying a wooden tray. One held a set of hereditary guard officer robes and leather armor—the same style Tushan and his daughter wore. The other carried a set of embroidered Eastern Depot robes.

Yang Fan tried to speak, but Tushan raised a hand to silence him and continued, “Brother Yang, listen to me. I know the situation of the hereditary guards better than you do. The reason I insist on securing you this position is not to harm you, but to protect you.”

Yang Fan listened quietly, saying nothing.

“Do you know whom you have killed?”

Yang Fan’s heart sank. He had long suspected he was caught in a dark conflict between the Ming and Qing. This matter could not be trivial. Once entangled, escape would be difficult. Although Tushan was eager to use this opportunity to redeem him, he also likely had motives to protect himself.

A leader who betrayed his savior would never earn true loyalty from subordinates.

No one is a fool—all eyes are watching. When one rises to power, their family, hometown, and old friends benefit as well. How could they neglect their subordinates?

Yang Fan prepared to listen carefully to what he would say next.