“You know me?” Gu Wangchen asked, his eyes narrowing.
As he spoke, Si Kongyue instinctively drew her sword and stood before him. Her gaze was sharp, her posture cautious.
At the same time, several members of the Beggars’ Gang, armed with bamboo staffs, surged inside. They stood behind Wang Youli, glaring at the two newcomers.
The atmosphere grew tense.
“It’s fine,” Gu Wangchen said, reaching out to press down Si Kongyue’s sword hilt. His expression remained calm. “I was just curious. There’s no need to make such a big deal out of it. These guys probably don’t want my life.”
“Hmph.” Si Kongyue sheathed her sword and stepped aside, casting a glance at Gu Wangchen. “Suit yourself. If you get ambushed, don’t come crying to me for help!”
She felt a bit indignant seeing how confident he was. She could clearly sense the hostility from the people outside, especially toward Gu Wangchen. It felt like some deep-seated grudge. Combined with what the big, dark-skinned man had said, the girl instinctively felt something was wrong.
Yet, for some reason, Gu Wangchen wasn’t afraid?
“Don’t worry, don’t worry. If that happens, I’ll be the first to run. You can cover the rear,” Gu Wangchen joked casually.
“…” The girl curled her lip but didn’t argue.
Seeing Gu Wangchen lower his weapon first, Wang Youli turned and scolded the gang members behind him, ordering them all to leave the clinic.
Once that was done, he led the two to the only table in the tiled house and sat down. He poured them both some coarse tea, let out a long sigh, and spoke.
“Lord Gu, although you haven’t introduced yourself, your appearance, that noble air about you, and the way you casually toss around hundreds of taels of silver… aside from the son of the all-powerful Prime Minister Gu, I truly cannot think of anyone else.”
“However…” Wang Youli paused, looking at Gu Wangchen with a complicated gaze. “I recognize you not because you are Young Master Gu, but because of… the Prime Minister.”
Gu Wangchen rubbed the rough rim of his teacup, his mind stirring.
‘As expected.’
Looking at the injured people filling the room and the hostile glares outside, he could guess the gist of it.
“2 years ago, the Prime Minister implemented the New Property Law around Shengan. He nationalized all the village lands within 30 miles, converting them for the cultivation of medicinal herbs, mulberry, and hemp.”
Wang Youli pulled up his hemp shirt, revealing a winding, ugly scar across his chest. The skin there looked as if it had been splashed with strong acid; although it had healed, it left an indelible mark.
“All of us were originally farmers making a living on that land.”
Wang Youli glanced at the people outside the door and continued, “The land was gone. Although the government gave us some compensation, it was a drop in the bucket. To survive, we could only enter the city.”
“Once we were in the city, we had nothing but our physical strength. It just so happened that the textile mills and alchemy workshops in the south were hiring. They said room and board were included and the wages were high, so we went.”
At this point, Wang Youli’s voice became low and raspy, a flash of painful memory in his eyes.
Hearing this, a famous term from history books in his previous life immediately surfaced in Gu Wangchen’s mind—
‘The Enclosure Movement.’
To develop industry and commerce and to wring more value from the land, the peasants originally attached to it were forcibly stripped away. They were forced to become a propertyless labor force, flooding into the cities to become fuel for the primitive accumulation of capital.
In this world of cultivation and immortals, this scene was repeating itself in a way that led to the same destination.
“Then the injuries on your bodies…” Si Kongyue couldn’t help but interject, pointing at the festering patients in the room.
“That’s from the waste liquids discharged by the dye works, and the fire poison splashed when alchemy furnaces exploded.”
*Alchemy furnaces…*
Gu Wangchen instinctively touched the medicinal pills in his robes.
Wang Youli gave a bitter smile and pointed to a child lying in the corner whose face was half-destroyed.
“That child is only 13. While working in the dye works, he accidentally fell into a vat. Though he was rescued, that poisonous water had already seeped into his flesh.”
“The shopkeeper refused to treat him and kicked him out, claiming it was our own carelessness and had nothing to do with the workshop.”
“We wanted to report it to the authorities, but the workshops have powerful figures backing them. The government wouldn’t even accept our petition.”
“We tried to make a scene, but we were beaten by the guards and thrown into this back alley.”
“It’s not just him. Half the people lying here are ‘waste materials’ kicked out of various workshops.”
‘Waste materials…’
Gu Wangchen chewed on the words, falling silent.
He finally understood why the beggars outside were so hostile toward him. In their eyes, the one who started all of this was Gu Huaizhang, the man who implemented the New Property Law. And he, as the son of Gu Huaizhang, was naturally a beneficiary—a parasite who grew up sucking their blood and flesh.
He couldn’t refute it. Because in a sense, it was the truth.
His father implemented the new law to increase tax revenue, fill the national treasury, and strengthen the country’s power to combat internal and external threats. From a macro, national perspective, this was correct, perhaps even necessary.
But every grain of dust from an era, when falling upon an individual, is a mountain.
The prosperity of a nation is often accompanied by the sacrifice of a portion of its people. These displaced people, who lost their land, their health, and even their dignity, were that cost.
He couldn’t help but think of the bustling Pingkang District and the Jingfang Pavilion that raked in gold every day. He remembered that Jingfang Pavilion had grown rapidly over the past 2 years thanks to the new property policies, and that little vixen Su Qianhua had used that opportunity to enter its ranks.
Behind their brilliant lights, perhaps the blood and sweat of these people were burning.
Gu Wangchen looked at the people groaning in pain before him and lowered his eyes, remaining silent. He couldn’t change the general trend of this era, nor could he judge his father’s merits or faults. All he could do, within his power, was provide a bit of meager compensation to these people crushed by the times.
Thinking of this, Gu Wangchen reached into his robes and pulled out another silver note with a face value of 1,000 taels, placing it on the tea-stained table.
“Take it.”
He didn’t say anything grand, nor did he offer a single word of defense for his father.
“This…” Wang Youli’s hands trembled as he looked at the silver note.
“Treat their illnesses, or buy some decent food. Even if it’s just to buy a couple of coffins, it’s better than rotting in the mud.”
Gu Wangchen stood up, brushed the dust off his sleeves, and said to Si Kongyue, “Let’s go.”
Si Kongyue followed silently. After walking a few steps, she looked back. The dark-skinned man named Wang Youli was bowing deeply toward Gu Wangchen’s departing back. His waist was bent very low, and he didn’t straighten up for a long time.
—
Walking out of the side alley, they returned to the main road.
*Buzz— Buzz—*
Gu Wangchen’s footsteps paused slightly as the Twin Resonance Stones in his robes gave two clear vibrations. He felt the frequency of the vibration carefully, the corners of his mouth curling slightly.
An Li had news. It seemed that big oaf Wei Yang really couldn’t help himself and had actually found that underground gambling den.
Pushing aside what he had just seen, heard, and the thoughts branching from them, he shifted his attention back to the business at hand.
“Hey, hey, hey, we’ve almost circled the entire Dark Alley, but we haven’t found a single clue.”
Si Kongyue’s dejected voice came from behind him. She kicked a small pebble on the side of the road, looking annoyed.
“What? Since the only attacker committed suicide and the clues are cut off, do you feel sorry for me?” Gu Wangchen turned around and teased her, seeing her listless appearance.
“I do not! Why would I feel sorry for you? I’ve clearly done my best!” Si Kongyue was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, instantly bristling. “Besides… if we don’t catch the attacker within 12 hours, it’s your funeral. I’ll be happy to see it!”
She brushed the bangs off her forehead, gave a cold snort, and marched past him.
“Fine, you’re right.”
Gu Wangchen didn’t bicker with her this time. He just looked at her back, a hint of a smile flashing in his eyes.
“As you said, we’ve checked almost all the forks on the left side of the Dark Alley. Aside from that Anxi soldier who committed suicide, we haven’t found anything.” He pointed toward the right. “In other words, there’s a high probability the attacker is in the right-hand forks that Wei Yang is responsible for.”
Si Kongyue paused and nodded thoughtfully. “What then? Are we going to find him now?”
“Of course.” Gu Wangchen took the lead.
“Wait, the right side is so big. How are we going to find him? By checking every single fork?”
“Just follow me. I already… know Wei Yang’s location.”
“Huh? How do you know?” Si Kongyue’s brow arched, a look of disbelief on her face. ‘What is this guy bragging about? Does he think he’s a master diviner?’
“I also know that he has likely found our target.”
“Hey, even bragging should follow the laws of the Great Qian, okay?” Si Kongyue clearly didn’t believe him, her voice full of disdain.
“Want to make a bet?”
“On what?”
Gu Wangchen said casually, “Let’s bet on whether Wei Yang will have found the attacker by the time we get there.”
“I’ll… no! I won’t fall for your tricks!”