Chapter 16 — The Foolish Second Young Master
Bai Mingzhe supported his wife as they watched the carriage head toward the East Courtyard. This time, his gratitude for Lord Bai Jiu came from the depths of his heart — if not for Lord Bai Jiu risking his life to protect them, his wife and child would never have survived.
The distillery was built far from any village, manpower scarce. It had been chosen for its access to the river — convenient for fetching water to brew liquor and for transporting goods by boat. Otherwise, they would never have picked such a desolate location. Yet precisely because of that, it had given the bandits a perfect chance.
That gang had schemed for over a year. They first wormed their way into the Bai family under the guise of hired guards, lying low for twelve months before revealing their fangs. They had tracked Bai Mingzhe’s movements carefully and timed their ambush right before the New Year, planning to “invite the God of Wealth” — a euphemism for kidnapping for ransom.
As for women and children, there had never been any survivors once they fell into bandit hands.
Every time Bai Mingzhe thought of that, a cold sweat broke out all over him. The whole ordeal had been far too close, far too dangerous.
Fang Yurou coughed softly. Having just given birth, she wasn’t supposed to be exposed to wind, so Bai Mingzhe hurriedly helped her back to the room.
“Be careful, my dear. I’ve already sent someone to fetch mother to come care for you personally,” he said with guilt and tenderness. “It’s my fault—I didn’t protect you and the child well enough. I let you suffer and be frightened.”
Fang Yurou smiled faintly. “It was just a false alarm. Luckily, Lord Bai Jiu turned back halfway with his guards. If they hadn’t been there, everyone at the distillery might’ve died.”
Bai Mingzhe looked at his wife—his heart ached at her pale, weakened face. He couldn’t hold back his tears. “Lord Bai Jiu’s kindness… I’ll never be able to repay it in this lifetime.”
Fang Yurou squeezed his hand and said gently, “Why cry again? You’re the head of the Heihe Trading Company—what would people think if they saw you like this? We’ll repay Lord Bai Jiu’s kindness slowly. He’s planning to build a new factory, isn’t he? You must help him well and see that everything’s done properly.”
Bai Mingzhe nodded solemnly.
Fang Yurou added, “There’s also that boy—I heard he’s quite young, but very clever. They say it was thanks to him that word got from Heihe Trading Company to the distillery in time, and that he was the one who stopped Lord Bai Jiu’s convoy. I think his name was… Xie Jing?”
At the time, she had been in labor, delirious with pain, and later fleeing for her life, so she hadn’t seen the boy clearly—everything she knew came from her maid’s account.
Bai Mingzhe, who seldom returned from Heihe Trading Company to the main house in Qinghe County, nodded. “I’ll look into it and make sure he’s properly rewarded.”
The couple continued their conversation as they returned inside.
After comforting his wife and glancing at his newborn son, Bai Mingzhe hurried off to handle business matters.
He spent the entire afternoon outside. A few workers at the distillery and the Heihe Trading Company had been killed by the bandits, so he personally visited each family, bringing silver as compensation.
One of the deceased had only an old blind mother left, dressed in patched clothes, still waiting for her son to return home. Bai Mingzhe couldn’t bear it. He ordered men to buy rice, flour, and cooking oil to leave for her.
When he finally returned to the Bai estate after running all those errands, a servant came rushing up, breathless and panicked.
“Master! Please, come quickly! The Second Young Master’s making a scene again—he won’t even take his medicine today…”
Bai Mingzhe’s heart jumped. “What happened? Didn’t we hire a new doctor?”
“It’s no use, sir! The Second Young Master’s ankle bone was broken. That day he forced himself to ride all the way back from Heihe without a word. The bone’s been set twice already but hasn’t healed. Today when the doctor tried to reapply the medicine, his ankle was swollen higher than before—worse than on the first day!”
“Then why are you still standing here? Take me there!” Bai Mingzhe quickened his pace.
*
In the Bai family’s side courtyard.
Bai Mingyu, limping on one leg, was hopping back and forth in irritation, venting his anger at the maids and servants, complaining about everything.
When Bai Mingzhe entered and saw his younger brother acting like that, he felt both relief and exasperation. His expression darkened. “Nonsense! Your leg’s broken—why are you hopping around? Lie down! Do you want to stay crippled for life?”
Bai Mingyu, forced back onto the bed, half-reclined and looked up anxiously. “Brother, what’s going on at home? I asked them, but no one will tell me anything!”
Bai Mingzhe sat by the bed and soothed him. “Everything’s fine. Lord Bai Jiu’s been brought back too—just a few surface wounds. With rest, he’ll recover soon.”
Seeing his usually careless brother so worried for once, Bai Mingzhe felt both comforted and sorry for him. “I’ll handle the rest. You just focus on healing. Get that leg mended properly.”
“Brother, I can help—”
“You just stop upsetting father again, and I’ll thank the heavens!” Bai Mingzhe scolded gently. “Listen, tomorrow I’ll find you another doctor. If this one still can’t fix it, I’ll send you to Pingzhou. There’s a miraculous physician there—an expert in treating bone injuries. He’ll definitely get you running again. I’ve been out all day tending to the injured workers; I’ll check on them again tomorrow.”
Bai Mingyu’s nose stung. “Brother, let me go with you.”
“Go for what? It’s almost New Year, the family’s just been through chaos—stay home with Father and Mother. I’ll take care of it.”
He reached out, ruffled his brother’s hair like a child, and smiled. “You’ve been through a fright yourself. Honestly, I was terrified something would happen to you, and I wouldn’t know how to face our parents. Didn’t expect you to hold the Heihe Trading Company together for me. Well done.”
“Brother, the people at Heihe…”
“Sigh. Many died. I’ve done what I can to help the families. Once the funerals are settled, I’ll send people to visit regularly.” Bai Mingzhe sighed again. “The authorities have already sent men to hunt down the bandits. Don’t go out wandering these days, you hear? Safety first.”
“…Alright.”
After calming him, Bai Mingzhe was about to leave when Bai Mingyu suddenly called out, “Brother, I need to find someone!”
“Who?”
“Kou Pei Feng—the boy who studied with me. That day he rode into the street shouting ‘Fire!’ If it weren’t for him, I would’ve…” Bai Mingyu’s voice choked. His hands clutched the blanket tightly, eyes rimmed red. “I’ve asked everyone, but no one’s seen him.”
Bai Mingzhe fell silent, then sighed. “I’ll do what I can to find him.”
Bai Mingyu nodded slightly.
Watching his brother’s back disappear, his chest felt painfully heavy.
He had questioned every servant and worker—none had ever seen a boy named “Kou Pei Feng.” Not even the distillery folk had heard the name. Bai Mingyu knew deep down that it was foolish to hope a half-grown youth could have escaped alive from that bloodbath. But still, he clung to that sliver of hope and refused to let go.
In his heart, he knew the truth.
His companion, his study-mate—was probably dead.
*
The county doctors couldn’t heal Bai Mingyu’s leg, and he stubbornly refused to rest at home. So Bai Mingzhe finally sent men to escort him by fast horse to Pingzhou for treatment.
The famed healer there specialized in surgery. He re-broke and reset the bone, and after some time in recovery, news came back: the leg had healed well. Bai Mingyu could return home before year’s end.
*
Qinghe County, Bai Residence, East Courtyard.
Because of his own injury, Bai Rongjiu hadn’t returned to the provincial capital. With the factory construction still underway, he decided to spend the New Year in Qinghe.
After coming back, he had the doctor examine Xie Jing too, worried that the boy might have internal injuries. The doctor found only a few bruises on his shoulder and arm—nothing serious.
Xie Jing said cheerfully, “It’s just that I wasn’t used to holding a gun the first time—my shoulder’s sore. I’ll practice more next time.”
Bai Rongjiu handed him a small pistol. “Someone will teach you later. Keep this with you for self-defense.”
Xie Jing accepted it without hesitation, tucking it safely away.
One of the guards glanced at him with interest—he still remembered the boy’s skill at the distillery, fighting with dual pistols, quick and precise. The guard thought he’d make a fine apprentice. Just as he was about to speak, Lord Bai Jiu interrupted,
“Tell the kitchen to bring a bowl of sweet glutinous rice dumplings.”
Soon, a steaming bowl arrived. Lord Bai Jiu didn’t touch it himself but handed it to Xie Jing. “There’s a small table beside you—sit and eat slowly.”
Xie Jing looked around, spotted a nearby table, and sat down obediently with the bowl.
The guard noticed it was Lord Bai Jiu’s chess table and was about to remind him, but Lord Bai Jiu waved him off, smiling faintly. “Let him eat. He’s been thinking about food the whole journey—let him fill his stomach first.”
Xie Jing blinked, unsure what he’d done wrong. He had always eaten at that little table before—it was a habit. When he finally realized and started to stand, Lord Bai Jiu gently pressed his shoulder back down.
“Sit. I’ll watch you eat.”
In the room, three people—two of them quietly watching one eat.
Xie Jing nibbled the dumplings one by one, lifting his eyes to glance at Lord Bai Jiu occasionally before lowering his head again. When he finished, even the sweet soup was gone.
Bai Rongjiu asked, “Do you still have family at home?”
“Only my grandma.”
“And your parents?”
“I’ve never seen them.”
He spoke plainly, without sorrow. Lord Bai Jiu could tell—he must have never known them from birth, so there was no grief to feel.
“Your grandma treats you well?”
“Very well. When I was sick as a child, she’d cook a few sweet dumplings for me—just two or three. She said they were my medicine reward. I remember they were soft, sticky, and sweet… just like this.”
Bai Rongjiu’s fingers tapped lightly on the chessboard. “Xie Jing, I’ll give you a long holiday. Go home and keep your grandma company. I’ll have Zhang Huwei escort you. Be back by the third day of the new year.”
Xie Jing nodded happily. “I promise I’ll come back.”
Zhang Huwei, the tall guard who wielded twin pistols, was assigned to accompany him. In Xie Jing’s memory, this man hadn’t survived in the previous life—probably one of those who had fallen at Heihe.
Lord Bai Jiu had prepared a carriage loaded with gifts—food, cotton fabric, and fur. The cloth wasn’t expensive but was thick and sturdy; most of it was in dark, muted tones suitable for elders. There was even a bolt of deep blue patterned fabric with several rabbit pelts, meant for making a warm vest for Xie Jing’s grandmother.
Throughout the journey, Zhang Huwei kept glancing at the boy, wanting to ask if he’d be willing to become his apprentice, but the words never came out.
He doubted Lord Bai Jiu would ever allow it—he clearly cherished the boy too much to let him suffer through hard training.
The carriage jolted along. Xie Jing occasionally lifted the curtain to look out—the market streets were bustling, steam from boiling kettles rising in white clouds. The air was filled with the smell of hot buns and roasted flatbreads.
He had money on him now—both Lord Bai Jiu and Bai Mingzhe had rewarded him with silver coins. When he spotted a vendor selling sesame cakes, he told the driver to stop, jumped down, and bought a bunch. Returning to the carriage, he handed one to Zhang Huwei.
The guard was moved but speechless.
Thinking he might still be hungry, Xie Jing gave him another. “The rest are for my grandma.”
Zhang Huwei: “…” (He hadn’t even been that hungry.)
One had hesitation in his heart, the other had none—Xie Jing never even thought about apprenticeship. Everything he had learned so far had come directly from Lord Bai Jiu’s personal teaching; he didn’t imagine needing another mentor.
As the carriage bumped along, Xie Jing felt like he was forgetting something—but the joy of going home drowned it out. He thought about it all the way until they reached his house and decided that if he couldn’t remember, it probably wasn’t important.
While Xie Jing cheerfully returned home for New Year—
—on the other side, Bai Mingyu languished in Pingzhou, depressed. After weeks of pain, his leg finally healed. He made it back home just before New Year’s Eve, barely in time to reunite with his family.
The Bai family had survived a terrifying year. To give thanks, Old Master Bai opened several porridge stalls under his and Lord Bai Jiu’s name to distribute food to the poor and “accumulate blessings.”
After the New Year’s Eve dinner, Bai Mingyu felt restless. He returned to his courtyard, instructing a servant to secretly bring in a small sack. Late at night, when no one was around, he quietly burned paper money.
“Feng’er, I’m burning more for you this time. Spend it freely, don’t hold back. I know you loved sugar cakes but always pretended otherwise, only showing it with your eyes… Young Master, I saw it all. It’s my fault—I kept teasing you, and in the end, you didn’t even get a proper last meal.”
The smoke stung his eyes, and he rubbed at them, but tears still spilled down. His eyes were already swollen from crying these past days.
“If it weren’t for your quick thinking, riding out and calling for the soldiers, I and everyone at Heihe would’ve died there.”
“Feng’er, I’ll remember your kindness. Every first and fifteenth day, I’ll burn offerings for you. Rest easy.”
“Feng’er… now that you’re gone, who’ll copy my books for me?”
…
Grief overwhelmed him again.
The Second Young Master wept in the dim light, crying until his voice broke.
