Being an emperor is not something he can do, so he can only rely on his connections.

Zhang Jingwei had just taken a few steps out of the side hall when Qian Ming quickly caught up with him. There was still some sweat on his face from the fight, and his brows were furrowed.

"Master," he lowered his voice and glanced back at the faint groaning sound of Yuan Liang coming from the side hall, "Are you really going to let him go like this? Let him leave Gaoyang with that injury?" His tone was filled with deep worry.

Zhang Jingwei didn't stop, but a playful smile appeared on the corner of his mouth. He glanced at Qian Ming and said, "What's the matter? Butler Qian, are you still reluctant to part with him?" He deliberately dragged out the tone with a hint of sarcasm.

Qian Ming choked and quickly shook his head: "How could that be possible! I'm worried about this bastard! You can see his character, he's a dog that can't change its nature! What if after his injury heals, he runs back to his old lair and resumes his old ways, helping those black-hearted tycoons to harm people? What then? Wouldn't all our efforts be in vain?"

Zhang Jingwei chuckled, casually plucked a tender leaf from the weeping willows beneath the porch, and twisted it between his fingers. "Don't worry," he said firmly, his eyes a little cold. "He won't get far. It won't be long before he'll crawl back here and beg me to take him in."

"Ah?" Qian Ming was even more confused. "Crawled back by himself? Master, you know Mu Tou's fist. It almost beat the shit out of him! He hates us so much, and he actually comes back to beg you?" He couldn't understand this twist and turn at all.

"That beating," Zhang Jingwei flicked away the crushed willow leaves and clapped his hands, "I asked Mu Tou to beat him. It was part of the plan." He said it lightly, as if he was talking about what to eat for lunch today.

"Plan?!" Qian Ming's eyes almost popped out, his voice rose a little, and he quickly covered his mouth again and looked around, "What plan? Master, have you colluded with Mu Tou?" He felt that his brain was not enough.

Zhang Jingwei paused and leaned against a pillar, the sunlight filtering through the branches casting dappled shadows on his face. "Before Zhaoxuan left, he specifically mentioned this Yuan Liang to me." His voice lowered, a hint of strategic planning. "This guy is one of the disciples of Wang Lian, the Chief Secretary of the Prince of Jin's Palace. He used to specialize in helping the wealthy and powerful of the Prince of Jin's faction to skirt legal rules and settle shady lawsuits. But to Wang Lian, he's like a chamber pot, disgusted by the stink after use! The self-righteous Confucian scholars in the palace even look down on him, treating him like stinking dog shit and ashamed to be associated with him."

He paused, looking at Qian Ming's gradually understanding eyes, and continued, "Think about it, if he had returned unscathed, Wang Lian would at most have called him a waste. But what about him now? His face is bruised and swollen, his clothes are torn, and he's covered in wounds, looking as miserable as a stray dog, running back to the territory of the Prince of Jin's Mansion..."

Qian Ming slapped his thigh, his eyes lit up: "I understand! The Prince of Jin's Mansion has to have some face! If he goes back in this state, he will not only bring shame to Wang Lian, but also to the Prince of Jin's Mansion! In order to distance himself from the matter, that old fox Wang Lian will definitely drive him out like the plague, and maybe even beat him to death in order to 'clean up the house'!" The more he thought about it, the more he felt that this was the truth.

Zhang Jingwei nodded approvingly. "That's exactly what I mean. He can't go back to Gaoyang. The Prince of Jin's Mansion won't take him in. Who else, knowing his background, would dare to get involved? Yuan Tang Jing has become a pariah in the blink of an eye."

Qian Ming smacked his lips, still a little skeptical. "Master, your calculations are quite accurate. But... what if Wang Lian, out of some old friendship, or Yuan Liang is truly resolute, runs off somewhere else? Will he really just come back to this hellhole of Gaoyang?"

Zhang Jingwei looked at the roof of the county office in the distance, his face expressionless, and said lightly: "I'm not sure he will come back. But I trust Gao Jiong's judgment." When he mentioned this name, there was an unquestionable trust in his tone.

When Qian Ming heard the word "Gao Jiong", the doubts on his face disappeared instantly, and his back straightened a little: "Hey! So it was the idea of ​​the chief manager! There's no doubt about it! When has the chief manager ever made a mistake in judging people and things? He said he can come back, so even if Yuan Liang has wings, he will eventually fall back to our Gaoyang territory! Young master, I believe it!" His tone was firm, and his admiration for the "chief manager" was beyond words.

Zhang Jingwei smiled, said nothing more, patted Qian Ming on the shoulder, and turned to continue walking towards the county office. Qian Ming hurried to catch up, his worries completely gone, leaving only admiration for the head shopkeeper and awe for the young master's methods. Yuan Liang's painful groans in the side hall seemed like an insignificant move in this chess game.

……

County Magistrate's Residence, Master Bedroom in the Backyard

The midday sun slanted through the carved wooden window lattices, casting dappled shadows on the blue brick floor. Douya was swiftly making her bed, fluffing the covers. She folded her last undergarment, but her movements slowed, stealing a glance at Huangfu Ling, who sat at her dressing table, lost in thought, staring at the bronze mirror.

"Madam..." Douya's voice was very soft, with a hint of cautious tentativeness, "You still haven't had your period this month?" After she asked, she immediately lowered her head, her fingers unconsciously twisting the corner of her clothes.

In the bronze mirror, Huangfu Ling's profile tensed for a moment. Without turning back, she picked up a horn comb and began combing her long hair, which fell across her chest, intermittently, with a bit of force. "That medicine is so bitter it's sickening! I've almost swallowed a whole cart of it! What's the use? Still no effect."

She turned around, her face expressionless, but deep in her eyes there was a determination to give it her all: "My godmother said that if I don't get better in the next month... I'm afraid... I'm afraid I'll have to have a cesarean section."

"Madam!" Douya was so scared that her hands trembled and the shirt she had just folded almost fell to the ground. Her voice changed and her eyes turned red in an instant.

Huangfu Ling seemed to have unloaded a heavy burden. Instead, she forced a somewhat stiff smile, stood up, and walked to a jeweled dagger hanging on the wall. Her fingers lightly brushed the cold scabbard, and with a resolute determination, she said, "It's better to cut it off! If I can't be a woman, I'll put on armor and go into battle! I won't be stuck in this backyard all day and night, my bones will rust! You don't know, I haven't touched a weapon for this month, and my hands are itching!"

Douya looked at her stubbornness, feeling a pain in her heart. She put down her clothes and quickly walked over to Huangfu Ling. She wanted to pull her but didn't dare. She stamped her feet anxiously, "Madam, please don't say such angry words! Then... then what should the master do?"

Huangfu Ling's fingers, which were stroking the scabbard, stopped. She turned her back to Douya, her shoulders slumped slightly, and the fierceness she had just forced herself to maintain disappeared in an instant, leaving only deep fatigue and inextricable guilt. "Douya, you can be considered my father's adopted daughter, but we grew up together, and we are closer than real sisters..." She turned around, her eyes a little red, but she forced herself not to let the tears fall, and looked at Douya steadily, "If... If it really comes to that, there is no other way... You... You do it for me..." She took a deep breath, as if she had used up all her strength, "Leave a descendant for the Zhang family for me."

"Madam!" Douya took a step back suddenly as if she was scalded, her face flushed red, she felt embarrassed, anxious and distressed, "You...what nonsense are you talking about! How can this be possible! This...this..." She spoke incoherently, and finally couldn't hold back her tears and fell.

Huangfu Ling watched Douya cry, but she herself suppressed the tears. She reached out, her rough fingertips wiping away the tears from Douya's face, her movements clumsy but gentle. "Since we got married, he's become a completely different person. He treats me... so well. But I... my pregnancy isn't going well..." She bit her lower lip, nearly drawing blood. "I... I'm so sorry for him, and even more so for the Zhang family's ancestors... I can't even offer a rite of passage..." The rest of the words caught in her throat, unable to come out.

"Madam! Don't let your imagination run wild!" Douya grabbed Huangfu Ling's hand. It was icy cold, but she held it tightly, as if to transfer her warmth to her. "You can get better! You definitely can get better! You have to believe in Sun Yaolang! She's a miracle doctor that even Yao Bo slaps his hands on the table in praise of her! She's sure to have a way!" Douya's tone was urgent, with an unquestionable certainty, as if this could put hope into Huangfu Ling's heart.

Huangfu Ling looked at Douya's hopeful eyes, pulled the corners of her mouth, and revealed a bitter smile that was uglier than crying: "Silly girl... What I said was... the worst-case scenario." She patted the back of Douya's hand with her backhand, as if to comfort her, and also as if to comfort herself, "Okay, okay, let's not talk about it." She pulled her hand back, rubbed the corner of her eyes with her sleeve quickly, sniffed, and tried to make her voice sound calmer, "Wipe your tears. Don't let the man in front know about this." She nodded in the direction of the front yamen, "He has a lot on his mind, and his worries are piled up like a mountain. Don't bother him with this. Don't... affect his work."

She finished speaking, turned away from Douya, and walked to the window. She stood with her back straight, gazing at the bare pomegranate tree in the yard, silent as a statue. Only the slight trembling of her shoulders betrayed the turbulent emotions she suppressed. The sunlight fell on her, but it seemed unable to dispel the invisible haze.