Brother, Brother, But I'm a Profligate! - Chapter 1

“It is medicine for the cold. If you spit it out, I will pour in another bowl.”

Ming Si had seen how a spider eats an insect.

It waits for the insect to fly into its trap and stick to the web. Then, it crawls out from the shadows and bites down with its chelicerae. Once the prey is motionless, the spider spins silk to entangle it.

Ming Si felt like that insect wrapped in silk, unable to move. His body felt as if it had been injected with venom; a searing, fire-like heat threatened to melt him down. He could not move; he could only feebly twitch his parched, pale lips.

The sound of footsteps came and went. In his haze, Ming Si thought these were the sounds of a spider’s eight legs scurrying across the web. Soon after, someone forced his mouth open and poured a bitter liquid down his throat. He coughed instinctively, trying to spit out the liquid.

Someone patted him on the back. “It is medicine for the cold. If you spit it out, I will pour in another bowl.”

Ming Si closed his mouth, and his consciousness drifted away.

The convoy traveled from south to north, with dark, distant mountains encircling the horizon.

Qiu Yuan rode forward from the head of the line toward an eight-foot-long carriage at the rear. Without stopping his horse, he leapt directly onto the front platform, pulled back the curtain, and entered.

The bronze bells hanging from the four corners of the carriage jingled, startling the two dozing servants inside. They hurriedly raised their heads.

Upon entering, Qiu Yuan asked, “How is he?”

The interior of the carriage was large and thick with the smell of herbal medicine. A couch was settled by the window, accompanied by a small, exquisite vermilion-lacquered table.

A young boy lay on the couch. He looked well-behaved, with delicate features and a slight furrow in his brow. Likely due to long-term poor nutrition, his cheeks lacked fullness, and his complexion had turned sallow from days of illness.

A servant replied respectfully, “His fever has broken, but he has not woken up yet.”

Qiu Yuan glanced at Ming Si again. “Keep watching him. Report to me the moment he wakes.”

The servants nodded in agreement. Once Qiu Yuan left, they remained somewhat shaken. Sitting idly, they carefully tucked the covers around Ming Si and leaned in to study him.

“He has been burning up for days and still has not woken. Do you think he will be a simpleton when he finally does?”

“What nonsense! Be careful with your mouth; what if someone hears you?”

Ming Si was in a daze. His ears felt as though they were behind a film of water, making all sounds muffled. He felt as if he had slept for a very long time, shedding the exhaustion of his body. Finally, after an unknown amount of time, he could clearly hear their voices.

“This young master is truly pitiful. I heard that on the way to the capital, his mother was killed by bandits just outside Chuzhou.”

“Stop being so sensational. A group of over a dozen people was killed; how is he the only survivor? Why did the bandits not kill him?”

“Bah, who is being sensational? I just got back from outside. I heard it from the guards around the Eldest Young Master. He had gone out to get medicine for his mother, so he escaped the slaughter.”

The thin-faced servant was about to sigh when he remembered something. “Then he really is lucky. His mother never made it into the Fu family and died on the road, yet her son gets to climb the branches and become a phoenix.”

“Our Master is truly magnanimous. He met a woman in the south who already had a child and offered her a status regardless. The woman died in an accident, yet he is still bringing another man’s child into the Fu house.”

The two sat with their heads together, failing to notice the eyes of the person on the couch twitching. They continued their idle chatter.

In the heat of their gossip, the carriage felt too stuffy. One of them turned to prop open the side window, and both leaned out to catch the breeze.

The round-faced servant with the thin neck made a silencing gesture and whispered, “I do not know if it is true, but I heard Master intends to bring this young master back and change his name to raise him as an adopted son.”

“Hah! Changing a name is not that easy.”

“The Fu family has ways to reach the heavens. Do you not know? I heard from my nephew, who is a clerk in the Ministry of Revenue, that the Fu family has already found someone to arrange a new identity for the boy. He just will not be entered into the official family genealogy.”

When Ming Si woke up and reflected, his last memory was still stuck in the continuous heavy rain of Chuzhou. He had been running about everywhere before finally collapsing at his lodgings with a severe cold.

He and his mother had lived together in Yangzhou Prefecture until she became involved with a man surnamed Fu from the capital. This August, the man sent people to fetch his mother to the capital.

Ming Si had not intended to stay at their house and be an eyesore; he only wanted to escort his mother there. They traveled the whole way, but unexpectedly, his mother caught a cold while passing through Chuzhou. The guards and elderly maids escorting her were uncooperative, so Ming Si told them to watch over her while he returned to the city to get medicine.

When he returned to the woods with the medicine that day, he searched for a long time but could not find the carriage. It was not until dawn that he saw the overturned carriage on a different road.

He saw a pile of bodies stacked together. All the gold, silver, and valuables they carried had been looted.

He pushed aside the bodies of the guards and maids to find his mother. He took her to report the crime to the authorities. The officials said it was bandits.

“That road is near the mountains; bandits often appear there.”

“You are lucky you were not with the group at the time, otherwise, you would have been another soul lost to a bandit’s blade.”

At that moment, the carriage stopped. The two servants’ conversation ended abruptly. They turned their heads just as the curtain was lifted.

Caught red-handed, their faces turned deathly pale. They practically slid to their knees instantly, their knees hitting the carpeted wooden floor with a dull thud. They were as silent as cicadas in winter.

The newcomer did not enter. Standing outside, he reached in with a slender, strong hand. It looked like the hand of a scholar who held a brush, but the calluses on the thumb and the faint ones on the palm revealed that this was not a weak intellectual’s hand.

The servants knelt one behind the other with their heads bowed. In their peripheral vision, they could only see the swaying of the Eldest Young Master’s dark cyan-patterned robes. A long silence hung in the air.

Fu Jing stared at the person on the bed for a few moments, then calmly withdrew his gaze to look at the servants kneeling in the carriage.

He was not harsh. His attitude was level and gentle, albeit with a touch of detachment. “Get up. Be more careful next time.”

Qiu Yuan stood behind Fu Jing. Although he could not see the situation inside the carriage, his ears were sharp; he had heard the chattering of the two servants from a distance.

Qiu Yuan frowned and barked, “Caring for the young master and yet making such a racket! If there is a next time, go and receive your punishment!”

The two servants nodded like chickens pecking at grain, agreeing in hushed tones. Yet, they did not dare get up from the floor, remaining on their knees with bowed heads.

Fu Jing took one last look at the person on the couch. “Close the window. If he catches a chill, the illness will flare up again.”

The propped-up window was closed, and the hand holding the curtain dropped. As the tension eased, the two scrambled up and sat down, catching their breath.

The Eldest Young Master of the Fu family, Fu Jing, was known for being generous and gentle. However, judging by the disciplined servants in his courtyard, his methods of governance were nowhere near as soft as they appeared.

Since these two servants worked for the Fu family, they usually avoided anyone from the Eldest Young Master’s courtyard. Meeting the Eldest Young Master himself was like a mouse meeting a cat.

One said, “I really do not know how the servants in the Eldest Young Master’s courtyard have survived all these years.”

The other replied with a wooden face, “All right, stop talking.”

Ming Si’s eyes shifted. He opened them and looked at the dejected servant sitting beside him, lost in thought.

The convoy arrived at an inn. Someone tied the horses in the stables. The carriage Ming Si was in was too large to enter, so it had to be parked outside.

The two servants remained in the carriage. Smelling the aroma of food wafting over, they secretly opened a crack in the window to look out, their mouths watering.

Seeing the guards outside already eating, their stomachs growled. They looked at each other. “When do we get to eat?”

“Wait for Lord Qiu’s arrangements.”

The thin-faced servant hesitated. “Uh, my stomach feels uncomfortable. I am going to relieve myself; I will be right back.”

The other waited honestly for his companion to return. After waiting a while without seeing him, he became restless. He lifted the curtain and saw the other man squatting under a tree, already eating.

“You son of a bitch!” the man cursed and ran out of the carriage to catch him.

Ming Si opened his eyes. He sat up slowly. His eyes were clear, like the finest dark ink. He felt terrible; his body was weak and aching from the fever, and his stomach felt like it was on fire because he had not eaten in so long.

It was late autumn. The vegetation was no longer the dark green mixed from yellow and blue. Withered yellow leaves swirled with the charm of the season.

After checking on the boy, Fu Jing entered the inn. The inn had been cleared out. Large pots were set up to cook, and the waiters were busy serving tea and water, running back and forth with apologetic smiles. “Please sit, masters! Please wait just a moment!”

Qiu Yuan had the shopkeeper settle the food and lodging. He was about to ask Fu Jing if they should call a doctor to check Ming Si’s pulse again when Fu Jing set down his teacup.

He said abruptly, “He has been traveling all day and was unconscious for days before that. He must be hungry now that he is awake. When the food is ready, bring him some light porridge.”

It took Qiu Yuan a few moments to realize who “he” was. He realized something a beat late. “The young master is awake?”

Waking up was one thing; wanting others to know was another. Considering he had stayed quiet and motionless, he was likely wary. Fu Jing was waiting for Ming Si to come to him.

Fu Jing rinsed his cup with tea. “Take the doctor to see him in a moment. I will not be going.”

When they found Ming Si in Chuzhou, he was already bedridden and delirious. They had called a doctor then and stayed in Chuzhou for another day. Only when his condition improved did they begin the journey.

They had thought about waiting until he was fully recovered, but time was tight; there were matters waiting in the capital.

Qiu Yuan quickly sent someone to the clinic to fetch the doctor and urged the cook to boil the porridge first, making it light. By the time the doctor arrived, the porridge was ready, and they walked toward Ming Si’s carriage.

However, before he reached the spot, he saw one of the servants responsible for watching Ming Si running toward him in a panic. The servant’s face was frantic, and before he could even speak, his knees buckled and he hit the ground.

“Lord… Lord Qiu!”

“Lord Qiu, the young master is gone!”

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