Brother, Brother, But I'm a Profligate! - Chapter 8

Ming Si found a job outside.

He did not return to his previous profession of bookkeeping for others. Instead, he found work in a restaurant, serving tea and water. This role allowed him to listen to the patrons and gather information about the happenings in Shengjing.

As for Fu Jing, it was unknown if he had taken up long-term residence at the Imperial Academy or what the situation was, but there was no word of his return. Ming Si went back to the estate every day, and each time he heard that Fu Jing had not returned, a surge of irritation rose in his heart. His hands, which had finally healed during the journey, were once again picked until they were bloody and raw.

It was only when the shopkeeper noticed his hands and commented that they would frighten the customers that Ming Si managed to exercise some restraint.

The servants in the manor delivered spoiled food to Ming Si every day. Upon discovering he was not there, they likely acted under orders to dump the food at his doorstep. Sometimes they even threw bricks at his roof, leaving shattered tiles scattered around the eaves of the courtyard.

Ming Si did not lose his temper over these incidents, though he found the waste regrettable when he returned each day to sweep up the mess. It was perfectly good food that they insisted on letting spoil just to serve to him; because he would not eat it, they resorted to other malicious tricks.

Ming Si avoided the members of the Fu family’s second branch, leaving early and returning late. One day, he returned earlier than usual. While working as a waiter, he had seen students from the Imperial Academy wearing round-collar scholar robes entering the restaurant, and from them, he learned that they had a holiday the following day.

Before even confirming the news, he hurried to the Spring Signal Courtyard and knocked loudly on the door. Ming Si’s movements were urgent, and the person inside was equally fast. By the third knock, Dong Qing opened the door with a smile.

When their eyes met, both were stunned. Dong Qing’s expression darkened while Ming Si forced a smile, though his heart sank.

Dong Qing asked, “What are you doing here again?”

Ming Si smiled. “Has the Eldest Young Master not returned yet? In that case, I will wait a bit longer.”

Ming Si stood outside the door. Dong Qing looked him up and down, then suddenly frowned, covered his nose, and slammed the door shut.

Ming Si stood there in silence.

Perhaps because he had seen those scholars today, the tension Ming Si had carried for days finally eased slightly. He looked down and sniffed his clothes. Having just come from the restaurant, he did indeed smell of cooking oil and food, but it was surely not so bad that he should be treated like a pest from a sewer.

“Let them eat cake,” Ming Si thought, rolling his eyes.

“So, this is where you are hiding!” A sharp, piercing voice suddenly broke his thoughts. Ming Si turned around.

Fu Zizhong was holding a toy tiger. As soon as the child saw Ming Si, he threw the toy onto the ground. Le Ling, who was following behind, leaned over to pick it up.

“My mother said I am not a beggar! This is my house!”

The child stood before Ming Si with his hands on his hips. Ming Si knew this type of child well; the more attention you gave them, the more rowdy they became. He turned his head away, acting as if the boy did not exist.

Fu Zizhong approached relentlessly, tentatively kicking Ming Si’s toe. Seeing that Ming Si moved away but did not retaliate, the boy began to stomp on him.

Because of the previous incident, Le Ling offered a half-hearted warning from the side. “Young Master, be careful not to get your shoes dirty.”

Ming Si did not want to get involved and prepared to get up and leave. The child followed him, his young face twisted as he spat out poisonous words.

“Slut. Beggar.”

Fu Zizhong did not truly understand the weight of what he was saying; he simply picked the insults he heard most often. However, no matter how much he cursed, he received no response.

Ming Si glanced at the sky, guessing that Fu Jing might not return again. If that were the case, he might be better off finding a student from the Academy to help him contact Fu Jing to get his bracelet back. Furthermore, regarding the matter of his mother.

“They say your mother was a prostitute. A bastard born of a prostitute coming to climb into the Fu family’s”

Slap!

Fu Zizhong was struck across the face without warning, the force throwing him to the ground. The thin, frail-looking hand had struck with such ferocity that half of the boy’s face instantly went numb and hot.

Fu Zizhong reached out blankly to touch his swelling cheek, staring at Ming Si in shock.

Ming Si’s palm was also red, his fingers twitching slightly. He looked at Fu Zizhong with a cold, expressionless gaze.

After a moment of dead silence, Le Ling’s legs went weak with fear. Just as he thought Ming Si was acting on impulse in a fit of rage, he saw Ming Si walk step by step toward Fu Zizhong and raise his hand high again.

Slap!

Le Ling screamed and scrambled forward, throwing himself over the child. “Young Master!”

Fu Zizhong froze for a long while before he remembered to cry. With both cheeks swollen, he could only grab Le Ling’s collar, sobbing softly until he was out of breath.

“Find mother.”

“Someone! Someone come quickly!” Le Ling shouted. “The Young Master has been beaten!”

This area was quiet and sparsely populated, containing only Fu Jing’s Spring Signal Courtyard. A large garden separated it from the other courtyards, so people rarely came here. Furthermore, the residents of the Spring Signal Courtyard never meddled in such affairs; the main gate remained tightly shut.

Ming Si watched coldly, then turned and ran.

A swarm of scholars left the Imperial Academy, either returning home or heading out for recreation. The Academy grounds became exceptionally quiet.

Fu Jing had stayed up all night. When he emerged from the library, the first light of dawn was breaking. He looked into the distance to ease the strain on his eyes before slowly walking back to his dormitory.

The scent of sandalwood in the room was somewhat cloying. Fu Jing rubbed his brow. Feeling irritable today, he used the tea on the table to extinguish the incense burner. Suddenly hearing movement behind him, he turned to see a servant from the manor who had come to pack his laundry.

The Imperial Academy did not allow servants, but many students brought them anyway, provided they were not seen openly. Fu Jing simply had someone come at intervals to collect things; he did not keep anyone there to wait on him.

As the servant was packing the clothes, he noticed something and reached down to grab it. “Oh, a piece of clothing fell out.”

Fu Jing removed his scholar’s hat and placed it on the table without turning around. He sat in his chair with his eyes closed. The servant saw that the item was from the worn clothes and placed it in the basket.

Before leaving, the servant followed his usual routine of placing items from the pockets onto the table. “Eldest Young Master, I have placed the bracelet on the table for you.”

Fu Jing heard the sound and glanced over. He was momentarily stunned, having actually forgotten about the item.

“Wait.”

The servant turned back to await orders, only to see a rare look of conflict on the Eldest Young Master’s face.

Fu Jing picked up the bracelet and looked at the servant. “I will return with you.”

This year, the results of the provincial examinations were released half a month later than usual. After the results were posted, Fu Jing’s friends and classmates congratulated him on becoming the top scorer. His birth mother’s family, the Zhangs, also sent a pair of exquisite jade paperweights shaped like reclining sheep. If Fu Anhuai had been present, the Fu family would likely have held a banquet for the guests.

Fu Jing closed his eyes and thought for a moment. “Has my father returned?”

The servant drove the carriage steadily. “The Master has not yet returned. I heard it will be another four or five days.”

Suddenly, the carriage stopped. Fu Jing opened his eyes as the driver shouted a command to the horses.

Li Xia rode up on horseback, recognizing the Fu family carriage. “Is the Eldest Young Master inside?”

The servant nodded and called out to the person inside, “Eldest Young Master, Master Li Xia is here.”

Li Xia did not delay, speaking almost simultaneously with the servant. “Eldest Young Master, something has happened at the manor.”

The Fu manor was in a state of absolute chaos. On the way back, Fu Jing heard the details from Li Xia. Essentially, Ming Si had beaten Fu Zizhong and fled. The family of the second uncle was searching the entire city for him, vowing to bring him back to be flayed and beaten to death. They were also demanding justice from Fu Anhuai.

When they arrived at the main gate of the Fu manor, servants and maids were scurrying about in a panic.

Someone saw Fu Jing standing at the gate and immediately turned to run inside, likely to report to the members of the second branch.

Seeing the trouble ahead, Li Xia’s eyelid twitched. “Eldest Young Master, perhaps we should wait until their anger has cooled before entering?”

Fu Jing stepped through the gate. “Was it we who beat the boy?”

Upon learning of Fu Jing’s return, the first to arrive was Madam Qin, holding Fu Zizhong. Madam Qin was the second wife Fu Antong had married later, the daughter of a merchant family.

She held the child, wailing, “The people of your first branch have always been arrogant! Now, a boy who just arrived has beaten Zizhong’s face into this state! If you are so intolerant of others, will you be beating us as well in the future?”

Fu Jing’s gaze landed on Fu Zizhong. The chubby child was held tightly in Madam Qin’s arms, his neck shrunk back and his expression listless. His cheeks were covered in yellow ointment, yet the swelling was still clearly visible.

Madam Qin’s voice was shrill. “We demand justice today! Hand over that brat! We are supposed to be one family, yet you allow an outsider to bully your own kin! It would be a laughingstock if word got out!”

Fu Jing smiled slightly. “Aunt, we cannot jump to conclusions before the facts are clear. I brought him here myself, and I know Ming Si would not strike someone without cause.”

“Is the state of Zizhong’s face not evidence enough? You are but a junior, yet you are so disrespectful to your elders! You have wasted all those years studying the classics!”

“Qin Biwu!” A sharp shout interrupted Madam Qin. Fu Antong approached with a dark face, leading a group of men. The middle-aged man did not look at Fu Jing but walked aggressively toward Madam Qin.

“Zizhong is not well. Why did you bring him out here? Take him back!”

“Master!” Madam Qin’s eyes were red with urgency. “Are you just going to watch Zizhong be beaten for nothing?”

Fu Antong waved his hand, signaling his men to take the crying Fu Zizhong and lead both mother and son back to their quarters.

The noise, along with Madam Qin’s insults, faded away. Fu Antong turned to look at Fu Jing, who was standing quietly with his eyes downcast. He gave a cold, superficial smile. “Mingzhang, you saw Zizhong’s face, did you not?”

Fu Jing had been capped early. When he was sixteen and traveling to Nanjing with the Crown Prince, the Empress had bestowed a courtesy name upon him. Since reaching adulthood last year, he had continued to use that name.

“You are the Eldest Young Master of the Fu family, yet you do not manage the household affairs. Now, you allow an underling to lay hands on my son. This matter, your Second Uncle will not let go so easily.”

Fu Antong snorted coldly, his gaze hostile, though not as blunt as Madam Qin’s. He looked at his silent nephew. “You usually do not interfere with the manor’s business. Do not interfere this time either.”

Fu Jing smiled. “Second Uncle, Ming Si is not one of my subordinates, nor have I condoned his actions. Instead of blaming him, you would do better to find out exactly what Fu Zizhong did.”

Fu Antong’s face twitched. He gave a cold, mocking laugh. “If he is not your man, that makes things even easier. I will deal with him, and you are not to stop me.”

Fu Jing remained detached, his expression indifferent as if he had not heard Fu Antong speaking. He stepped past him, and Li Xia followed quietly.

Fu Jing suddenly remembered something and turned to smile at Fu Antong. “Fu Zizhong is eight years old and has not yet begun his formal education. You have spoiled him too much.”

Fu Antong’s face turned ashen, but Fu Jing had already walked away with his men.

Fu Jing returned to the Spring Signal Courtyard, still wearing his scholar’s robes from the Academy. He placed the bracelet on the table, appearing to be lost in thought.

Dong Qing brought tea and placed the cup gently on the table. He glanced at the string of beads; their quality did not seem like the high-grade items his master usually wore. The thought flashed through his mind, and Dong Qing picked up the tray to leave.

Fu Jing called out to him, “I heard that Ming Si and Fu Zizhong got into a fight right in front of the gate of the Spring Signal Courtyard?”

Dong Qing was stunned. Then he heard Fu Jing speak again. “Did Ming Si come to the Spring Signal Courtyard to find me?”

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