Chapter 57: Big Liar

The second round of the retest consisted of one prose and one poem.

Although the prose portion was shorter, the difficulty was somewhat greater than the main exam.

Fu Tian bit the end of his brush and pondered for a long time before finally beginning to write his answers.

By the time he finished the first question, it was already close to late afternoon.

He let out a long sigh and drank several mouthfuls of water.

Fearing his mind would wander, he hurriedly started on the second question.

He had very little hope for the poem he composed, so he only aimed for proper parallelism.

After finishing, there was still plenty of time left, so he carefully packed away his answer sheet and absentmindedly rested his head on his hands, drifting into thought.

His mind wandered back to Chu Xiangtian.

That government official seemed very afraid of Chu Xiangtian, but Chu Xiangtian was just a bandit leader—why would a government official be afraid of him?

Fu Tian bit his lip. Unless Chu Xiangtian wasn’t really a bandit at all.

Could he also be someone from the government?

…It always felt somewhat incongruous to associate him with the West Mountain Stronghold.

Fu Tian’s thoughts turned again to Zhou Chuanqing, who was friends with Chu Xiangtian and also a Tanhua Scholar…

He had never thought much of it before and trusted Chu Xiangtian’s explanation, but now it seemed that Zhou Chuanqing was actually in league with Chu Xiangtian.

His fingers tapped absentmindedly on the table as Fu Tian recalled various past events, momentarily unable to discern whether Xiangtian’s kindness to him was genuine or not.

There was definitely some purpose behind his and Zhou Chuanqing’s visit to the West Mountain Stronghold.

Though Fu Tian couldn’t guess what it was yet, it certainly wasn’t to experience life as bandits.

So now that both of them had come down from the mountain and were living at the Fu Family, was there some other hidden agenda?

His fingers tightened involuntarily, and tiny wood shavings dug into the cracks of his nails on the rough tabletop.

The pain made him flinch, his heart curling up momentarily.

He picked out the splinters, then sucked on his finger to stop the bleeding, but his mind still dwelled on their motives.

He couldn’t figure out what in the Fu Family was worth the government’s scheming.

His usually bright, starry eyes dimmed in disappointment.

His eyelashes cast shadows under his eyes, like clouds on a gloomy day.

Fu Tian almost wanted to cry again—just the thought that Chu Xiangtian had been deceiving him made him feel unbearably wronged.

The sharp clang of a bronze gong rang out in the examination hall.

Fu Tian sniffed, swallowing the sting in his nose.

Soon, an examiner came to collect his paper.

He handed it over but waited absentmindedly for a while.

When the second gong sounded, he couldn’t hold back any longer and rushed outside.

The crowd pressing in did not slow his steps.

Fu Tian pushed through to the carriage, but the person who had promised to explain everything to him was nowhere to be seen.

He glanced around anxiously but still found no one.

His expression grew dazed, his voice tinged with deep disappointment. “Where’s Chu Xiangtian?”

Zhou Chuanqing, seeing Fu Tian on the verge of tears, felt a pang of guilt but still relayed Chu Xiangtian’s parting words:

“He… had urgent business and rushed back to the County Capital. He told me to tell you that when he returns, he will explain everything to you in person.”

The little stars in Fu Tian’s eyes faded completely.

He didn’t cry but lowered his head, looking especially dejected.

If Chu Xiangtian were here, he would surely be doing everything possible to cheer up the young master.

But Chu Xiangtian was not here.

So Fu Tian hung his head and said softly, “Oh.”

The atmosphere became awkward.

Zhou Chuanqing hesitated, unsure what to say, and finally said, “If you want to know, I can tell you everything. But I think… it’s better if he tells you himself. Apologies are most sincere when made in person.”

Fu Tian raised his head but didn’t look at Zhou Chuanqing.

Instead, he climbed into the carriage and told Fu Ji, “Uncle Ji, let’s go back.”

Though he didn’t look at Zhou Chuanqing, his expression clearly showed his resentment.

He was certain Chu Xiangtian and Zhou Chuanqing were in cahoots—both were big liars.

Fu Ji hesitated, asking, “Aren’t you going to wait for the Announcement List?”

Fu Tian shook his head, then pulled down the carriage curtain.

Watching the carriage slowly pull away, Zhou Chuanqing sighed deeply, a bit troubled.

This time, it wasn’t him intentionally sabotaging his friend.

***

Fu Tian rested at the guesthouse overnight.

The room was hot, and outside the cicadas cried out piercingly, making Fu Tian even more irritable.

The previous two nights hadn’t been this unbearable.

He tossed and turned half the night before barely falling asleep.

When he woke the next day, he looked wilted, like a plant scorched by the sun—pitiful and wronged.

Zhou Chuanqing, who had intended to say something, swallowed the words back.

Fu Tian first went to the Zhuangzi.

Fu Youqin saw that only he and Fu Ji had returned and found it a bit strange. “Why are you two back alone?”

Fu Tian pursed his lips slightly, not wanting to explain much, and vaguely said, “They had things to do and didn’t come back.”

Seeing his low spirits, Fu Youqin didn’t press further and told him to rest well first.

Fu Tian returned to his room and spotted the Ice Fan Rabbit by the window.

He bit his cheek in silence for a moment before calling Dai Fu in.

“Take this out and throw it away.”

Dai Fu was puzzled—this was something the young master had liked before, so why suddenly want to discard it?

Hesitantly, he picked it up, unsure whether to leave, as Fu Tian’s face remained sullen.

After a moment, seeing Dai Fu standing awkwardly, he changed his mind.

“Forget it, just put it in the storeroom.”

Dai Fu breathed a sigh of relief and hurried downstairs with the Ice Fan.

Fu Tian leaned by the window and let out a deep sigh.

Though those he was used to weren’t around, life had to go on, and there was still plenty to do.

After staying a few days at the Zhuangzi, Fu Tian returned to Sifang Town.

According to Fu Tian, Zhou Chuanqing who had left returned again.

He tried twice to see Fu Tian but was refused both times, so he gave up.

“To untie the knot, the one who tied it must be found. My role as a mediator is useless now.”

Zhou Chuanqing fanned himself and went to the backyard to drink tea, hoping to run into Fu Shuyue who might also be out enjoying the flowers, so they could sit and chat about poetry, lyrics, and the romance of flowers and the moon.

There was little going on at home; everything had returned to normal.

Wen Boli’s Rice Shop had restored its rice prices to their original level.

The steward reported that after purchasing rice at low prices for a month, Wen Boli seemed to have sensed a trick and stopped buying at low prices.

This aligned with Fu Tian’s expectations.

Before, Wen Boli had been an imposing, omnipotent, insurmountable figure in his eyes.

But after climbing to a higher position himself, he realized that Wen Boli was just the same as anyone else.

He was just a scholar, neither good at nor interested in business, which was why the Fu Family Rice Shop had been in chaos.

However, the Fu Family was backing the shop, so despite being mistreated for so long, it could still bounce back immediately.

Now it was under his management, and the results were only getting worse.

“Besides, it’s not Wen Boli who’s been showing up recently, but Wen Zeming,” the steward reported in detail to Fu Tian.

“He’s said to be in poor health, and every time he comes to the shop, he looks pale and haggard, as if he might not last much longer.”

Knowing Fu Tian’s grudge against Wen Boli, the steward relayed this news with a hint of seeking favor.

Fu Tian heard it but didn’t react much, simply nodding and saying he knew.

Whether Wen Boli lived or died no longer mattered much to him.

As long as the other side didn’t provoke him first, he had no intention of dealing with that family.

With nothing pressing at the shop, Fu Tian didn’t want to be alone.

Being alone made him prone to zoning out, then thinking of that big liar, and getting angry for no reason.

So he brought people along to inspect various estates.

The plans for the selected estates’ canals had all been finalized, and the stewards had begun work.

It was a good time to check on progress.

Fu Tian’s orders were taken seriously by the estate stewards.

Once finalized, they immediately gathered laborers to start construction.

Digging canals was both difficult and not difficult—what mattered most was having abundant financial resources.

Fu Tian chose relatively large estates.

The smallest had over seven hundred acres, and the largest more than a thousand.

To dig canals across such vast farmland required both manpower and money.

Luckily, the Fu Family lacked neither.

During the busy farming season, it wasn’t easy to gather labor, but the Fu Family offered high wages and meals.

Not only did local villagers come, but even many idlers showed up to earn some money.

With more laborers, the canal digging progressed faster.

The progress at most estates Fu Tian inspected was encouraging, but there was an exception.

Where there were diligent workers, there were naturally those who shirked responsibility.

At the fifth estate Fu Tian visited, canal progress was almost half behind the others.

This estate had a lot of farmland.

Its steward was newly promoted, as the previous steward had fallen seriously ill.

He hadn’t witnessed Fu Tian’s methods and was naturally less efficient than the other stewards.

Fu Tian had allocated a substantial amount of silver for the canals.

Other stewards kept meticulous track of every expenditure, but this steward was complacent, thinking he could pocket some money.

It wasn’t until Fu Tian suddenly arrived for an inspection that the steward lost his composure.

His expression changed the moment he saw Fu Tian.

Fu Tian could clearly see he was nervous and gave him no time to prepare before heading straight to the fields.

Only a small section of the canal had been dug, with a sparse handful of elderly and weak villagers working listlessly.

“Digging canals requires recruiting able-bodied laborers. What are these people doing here?” Fu Tian asked coldly, his eyes narrowing slightly—an expression somewhat reminiscent of Chu Xiangtian.

Zhao Steward wiped the cold sweat from his brow and forced a smile.

“It’s really been impossible to find laborers. It’s peak farming season—who’d be willing to come?”

Fu Tian scoffed.

He approached an older man and asked gently, “Sir, how much do you get paid to work here each day?”

The old man was resting but wiped his sweat with a cloth when he heard this and said, “Three wen per day.”

Fu Tian continued gently, “Does that include lunch?”

The old man laughed as if hearing a joke.

“If that were true, all the idling young men in our village would be rushing to do this work. How could it be for us?”

Fu Tian smiled slightly, thanked the old man, then turned to look at the steward expressionlessly.

“Go back.”

Zhao Steward almost knelt on the spot when he saw the smile on Fu Tian’s face.