Chapter 80 — Dispute Over Land
Xie Jing nodded, then pointed at the stone tiger’s back, reminding him, “Here—look carefully.”
Although Huang Renfeng was a street rascal, the fact that he had managed to claw his way up to this point meant he had some skill. He’d made his living by talking—sweet words for men, smoother ones for ghosts. His family had lived off the trade of geomancy for generations; though he’d hardly studied, he could still read a little of the stars and the seasons.
He examined the stone tiger for a while, then suddenly gasped, eyes widening and unable to look away. Muttering under his breath, he said, “It really is—it really is a star map!” Turning the tiger this way and that, he frowned, looking as if there was more he wanted to say but didn’t dare.
Xie Jing said calmly, “This is half a star map. There must be another stone tiger to complete the pair—only together can the full picture be seen.”
Huang Renfeng’s eyes lit up. “Yes, yes! That makes sense!”
He held the tiger more reverently now, carefully handing it back to Xie Jing, eyes still glued to it. “I thought I’d gone blind, couldn’t see a thing, unable to help you, young master.”
Xie Jing accepted the stone tiger, playing with it idly, and asked, “Do you know the Silver-Seeking Verse?”
Huang Renfeng chuckled awkwardly. “Who doesn’t know about the treasure of the Min River? It’s been two hundred years—people have dreamt about it for generations. There are several versions of that verse. If not for you showing me this treasure today, I’d never have believed that the old nursery rhyme might actually be real…”
Xie Jing raised his hand, stopping the man’s rambling, and arched an eyebrow, “How much do you actually know of the Silver-Seeking Verse?”
Huang Renfeng’s eyes darted, just about to invent something when Xie Jing’s cold voice cut in:
“Speak honestly. Lie once, and you’ve seen what my stick can do.”
Huang Renfeng had already suffered a beating from Xie Jing once before, behind closed doors in the provincial capital—screaming to heaven, unanswered. Back then, the young master had used a whip. Now he carried a staff and had smashed a carriage to pieces barehanded. Whatever tricks Huang had were gone; he sighed and told the truth.
“To tell you straight, young master, my family’s been doing feng shui for three generations. By the time it got to me, half the craft was gone. I only know about the Silver-Seeking Verse from what my grandfather said. As for the rest, there are too many stories to count. If you go to Shu, you’ll find not one but several ‘stone tigers.’ I wouldn’t dare fool you, but the truth is—this Silver-Seeking Verse is just smoke and air. The nursery rhyme’s been sung for two centuries, but no one’s ever actually found treasure in the Min River!”
If Huang Renfeng had spun wild tales, Xie Jing wouldn’t have believed him. But since the man’s words matched what Mr. Huang had said, it confirmed Xie Jing’s suspicions all the more.
Xie Jing thought for a moment, then said evenly, “Nonsense. Do you know where this artifact came from? It’s been authenticated by masters in the capital. This star map’s secrets align precisely with the rhyme itself—”
He didn’t actually know much about the Silver-Seeking Verse—just a few lines Mr. Huang Mingyou had once mentioned. But that man was well-versed in ancient lore; quoting him was more than enough to awe Huang Renfeng.
Sure enough, Huang Renfeng stared blankly, dazed by what he heard.
Xie Jing gave him a look of knowing depth. “Do you know why, out of so many people, I came to find you?”
Huang Renfeng shook his head blankly.
“Because a master foretold it.”
Xie Jing pinched his fingers together like a fortune-teller, though rather perfunctorily, then lowered his hand and said, “I’ve calculated many times—each time I’m just one step away from finding the other tiger. But fate is fickle. My calculation shows that you were destined to appear, tied to the stone tiger’s emergence. That’s why I kept you today.”
Huang Renfeng trembled. “I—I was predicted?”
Xie Jing imitated Mr. Huang’s calm posture, sitting tall as he spun the tale. “Yes. Three times I divined it. The first was two years ago.”
Huang Renfeng thought for a moment—that was exactly when he’d first gone to the provincial inn and scammed a meal. Three chance meetings with Xie Jing later, he was already seventy or eighty percent convinced.
Xie Jing continued, “Remember this. From today on, if you find the other stone tiger—or anything related to the Silver-Seeking Verse—you are to report to me at once. When I have both halves of the star map, that will be the day we seek the treasure.”
Huang Renfeng’s breathing quickened, eyes gleaming with the image of piles of silver. He nodded rapidly.
Xie Jing had painted him a dream—and lured him neatly into the game.
Huang Renfeng, being familiar with all sorts of people and places, was the perfect man to send hunting for the other tiger.
Xie Jing’s true intent, though, was personal—he wanted to use the stone tiger to trace clues about his mother. Grandma Kou had never spoken of his father, but she had treated his mother with great respect. The tiger, hidden inside a Buddha statue, was the only thing she’d left him. If he’d told Huang Renfeng that truth, the man wouldn’t have bothered. But by turning it into a “treasure hunt” with “star maps” and “silver,” greed would drive him to search far and wide.
From the northern provinces all the way south to Rongcheng, there was no better candidate than Huang Renfeng.
He might seem useless now, but years later, luck would favor him. Whether in the Min River region or Rongcheng, he would make a name for himself, eventually commanding three entire excavation crews hunting artifacts.
Xie Jing didn’t want to leave Lord Bai Jiu’s side, but his mother’s mystery haunted him. Having Huang Renfeng as a hidden agent was perfect.
And perhaps—there was another reason. Xie Jing wanted to weave a thread of fate, to alter what he knew was coming.
A few years later, war would ravage the northern provinces, and Lord Bai Jiu’s health would break during that turmoil.
If it couldn’t be avoided, then he’d plan ahead.
Whether the silver was ever found or not, Huang Renfeng would surely uncover valuable treasures along the way.
Xie Jing rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then narrowed his eyes. “Actually, I’ve calculated something else.”
By now Huang Renfeng treated him like a revered master, his voice trembling slightly. “Please, young master, enlighten me.”
“I’ve seen that you’ll rise quickly these next few years—good fortune, easy days. But when you travel south, you’ll face hardship, and a great calamity will occur. It crosses the boundary between life and death. If you cannot avoid it, you won’t survive.”
Cold sweat trickled down Huang Renfeng’s back. He clasped his hands, bowing deeply. “Please, young master, tell me how to avert it!”
Xie Jing said coolly, “That’s not something I can predict. If you feel something’s amiss, come find me.”
Huang Renfeng was left shaken—his emotions whirling between fear and awe.
Meanwhile, Xie Jing adjusted his posture slightly, stretching his shoulders. Pretending to be a fortune-teller was tiring. Thankfully, his time studying under Mr. Huang Mingyou had paid off—he could at least look convincing enough to cow the man.
Not long after, a black car pulled up outside the villa. Lord Bai Jiu had returned.
As he stepped into the courtyard, a servant hurried over to quietly brief him on what had happened at home that morning.
Lord Bai Jiu quickened his steps—until he heard: “…Young Master Xie drove them off with a staff.”
He stopped mid-step and turned. “You said Jing’er beat someone?”
The servant shook his head quickly. “No, sir, not beaten—just, ah, reasoned with them.”
“How so?”
“Well, first he warned them. But they didn’t listen and insisted on leaving the red sedan chair—inside sat a male performer, all painted up, covered in jewels. Master Xie feared it might tarnish your reputation, so he smashed the carriage and drove them away.”
The servant was from the east wing—he knew how precious Xie Jing was to Lord Bai Jiu, so he naturally shaded the story in his favor. He added, “Oh, and Master Xie kept one man behind.”
“Who?”
“One of the Azure Dragon Gang’s thugs. He’s being questioned.”
Lord Bai Jiu immediately set off toward the room.
As he opened the door, he caught the sound of Xie Jing’s light laughter. The boy looked up at the sound, still smiling faintly, and greeted, “Master.”
Lord Bai Jiu answered softly, glancing at him, then at the man beside—bent over in a nervous bow.
The thug’s hair was a straw-colored mess, his face plain, unremarkable. Only the ingratiating smile made him look worse. His clothes marked him as a minor Azure Dragon Gang leader.
Lord Bai Jiu’s eyes swept over him, then returned to Xie Jing.
Xie Jing gave up his seat and gestured for Huang Renfeng to leave. The man bowed hastily to the Master and ran out.
Lord Bai Jiu walked over and sat down. “I heard you’ve had a busy morning?”
Xie Jing stood nearby. “Plenty of things done. Which one would you like to hear?”
“All of them.”
“Well, I woke up this morning, saw we were out of tooth powder, so I went out…”
Lord Bai Jiu coughed lightly, glancing up at him with a half-smile.
Xie Jing paused, then said slowly, “Someone came to deliver a gift—with bad intentions. I chased them off for you. I also checked the person over—not very good-looking. If I ever see someone better, I’ll keep them here for you to deal with personally.”
He wasn’t afraid at all. In just a few months he would be of age; for the next decade, no one could rival his looks.
Lord Bai Jiu caught his wrist, pulling him closer. Xie Jing startled, glancing at the door. It was only half-shut—someone could walk in any moment.
Lord Bai Jiu didn’t care. He drew him into his arms, murmuring, “There’s no one else. Only you.”
Xie Jing sat on his lap, hands braced against the man’s shoulders, fingers unconsciously tightening. His eyes shimmered, but he said nothing.
Lord Bai Jiu kissed his brows, then his forehead, smiling. “I’m not teasing. Man or woman, anyone else you see—just do as you did today and drive them away. In this life, I only want you.”
Xie Jing lowered his gaze, leaned forward, and kissed him softly, “I’m the same,” he murmured. “I’ll only ever be good to you.”
Ten years of prayer—all wishes granted. Past life and present, this world and the next— Only you.
Lord Bai Jiu’s hand brushed his chest and felt something hard. He reached in curiously, chuckling. “And what treasure have you hidden here?”
Xie Jing, realizing his clothes were half undone, blushed but didn’t resist, letting him look.
Inside were a pistol, two thin daggers, a small pouch of coins and banknotes—and a tiny stone tiger.
Lord Bai Jiu examined it. “Why bring this to Nanfang?”
Xie Jing murmured, “I brought a lot more.”
“Oh?”
“Grandmother said it was left by my mother. In my little chest, I also packed the things you’ve given me. When I miss home, I take them out and look at them.”
His tone was natural, tinged with an unguarded tenderness—like a fledgling bird seeking warmth.
Lord Bai Jiu returned everything carefully, buttoned his shirt, and kissed his forehead. “Don’t stay away so long next time.”
Xie Jing said, “You have great things to do, you can’t stay in one place forever.” Then softly added, “Next time, take me with you. After New Year, I’ll be eighteen.”
Lord Bai Jiu laughed quietly and nodded.
If anyone had told him five years ago that the boy he’d rescued would one day become this close to him, he’d never have believed it. But Xie Jing had made it so.
After resolving the Azure Dragon Gang affair, Lord Bai Jiu stayed in Nanfang for a few days to rest—and to teach Bai Mingyu how to run a tavern.
Bai Mingyu had tried to follow the provincial rules, but they didn’t fit here.
In the study, Lord Bai Jiu listened to his report, then ordered, “Move the tavern twenty li west (20 li = 10 km), next to the railway. No need for deep foundations—just put up a few windproof buildings. The shops we already bought can be turned into distilleries, to refine the spirits.”
Bai Mingyu understood what “refine” meant. He’d done it in Russia—diluting strong liquor into standard spirits, even vodka; easy enough, with little difference in taste. But hearing about the move, he hesitated, “Twenty li west? But sir, that’s Russian territory—can we?”
Lord Bai Jiu said, “Who said it belongs to them?”
Bai Mingyu blinked. “But the charter says, ‘within fifty Russian li of the Eastern Railway line’…”
Lord Bai Jiu asked, “And do you know that according to the original railway treaty, the Russians’ jurisdiction was meant to extend only thirty Chinese li on either side? Do you know how much farther a Russian li reaches?”
Bai Mingyu did the math—different systems. A Russian li was about twenty zhang longer than a Chinese one. Over distance, that meant fifty-three li instead of thirty—an expansion disguised by a single word. His face darkened, jaw tight. (1 zhang = 3.2 to 3.58 meters)
Lord Bai Jiu said evenly, “It’s that extra twenty li I mean to reclaim.”
