Chapter 80: Chapter 79: Grand Bestowal of Winter Clothes
Five minutes later, Fu Juemin walked to the entrance of the mansion, holding Xu Xinyi’s hand.
The Xu Family’s car was parked by the fountain. Xu Leyi stood beside it.
She was still dressed in a sharp woman’s suit. Her hair seemed to have been cut shorter, her makeup was exquisite, and she held a long, slender woman’s cigarette between her fingers.
Seeing Fu Juemin and Xu Xinyi emerge, Xu Leyi gently stubbed out her cigarette with her foot, straightened up, and met Fu Juemin’s gaze from across the distance with a cold expression.
Just then, a man got out of the Xu Family’s car. He was dressed in a crisp, beige suit and gave Fu Juemin a smiling nod from afar.
Zhao Xinhua.
Fu Juemin’s gaze flickered. He turned his head and whispered a few words in Xu Xinyi’s ear.
The young woman reluctantly let go of his hand and walked toward the car, glancing back at him every few steps.
"Go on."
Fu Juemin waved at Xu Xinyi, who had stopped to look back. Only then did she manage to drag herself to the car.
"What did Fu Juemin say to you?"
Xu Leyi looked at her runaway sister, her expression frigid. Her words were full of interrogation, leaving no room for argument.
But Xu Xinyi ignored her, got into the car on her own, and slammed the door shut with a BANG.
Xu Leyi’s brow furrowed, a flash of anger in her eyes. Zhao Xinhua, who was beside her, quickly offered some gentle words of comfort. Only then did her expression soften slightly as she beckoned for everyone to get in the car and leave.
Throughout the entire exchange, no one from the Xu Family said a single word to Fu Juemin.
Fu Juemin watched the Xu Family’s car disappear at the end of the tree-lined driveway. The butler, Uncle Chen, quietly approached and said in a low voice, "...Miss Xu has bought up most of our ships and cargo at the pier. That Mr. Zhao is now highly valued by the Xu Family.
"He’s responsible for almost all of the Xu Family’s business at the pier now. I heard he has connections in both Shenghai and Jinhai and can dump all the goods the Xu Family has stockpiled in one go..."
Fu Juemin said nothing, only offering a faint smile before casually instructing, "Alright, everyone, dismiss."
With that, he turned and walked into the mansion as if everything that had just happened was merely a trivial interlude.
....
「Three days later.」
The third-floor bedroom.
Fu Juemin wore loose-fitting training clothes, standing barefoot on the cold floor.
His eyes were slightly closed. The muscles of his body rippled in waves, like a great python coiling and slithering beneath his cotton shirt.
Along the inside of his naturally hanging arms, dark veins bulged menacingly. At this moment, the atmosphere in the room grew oppressive and stagnant.
"SHH-SHH... SHH-SHH..."
An eerie sound arose in the air, like the friction of countless snakeskin scales unfolding against each other.
The aura emanating from Fu Juemin grew more solid and terrifying, as if some unseen, horrifying existence was slowly awakening behind him, gradually raising its head...
Just as this momentum was about to build to a peak, "CLACK—"
A crisp sound from the window shattered the room’s heavy, oppressive atmosphere.
Fu Juemin’s eyes snapped open. The dark veins on his forearms instantly receded, and the strange, terrifying aura emanating from him vanished without a trace.
"TAP TAP TAP—"
A light, rhythmic tapping sound came from outside the window.
Fu Juemin walked to the window, located the source of the sound, and pushed open the dusty enamel casement. A grayish-blue pigeon stood shivering on the windowsill.
Fu Juemin gently cupped the pigeon in his hands, bringing it inside, and stroked its body, which was stiff from the cold wind.
Once the pigeon’s agitation subsided, he lifted its leg and saw a beautiful red ribbon tied to it.
A glint flashed in Fu Juemin’s eyes. He untied the red ribbon and casually released the pigeon.
Then, he closed his eyes and activated his [Yao Ling] Talent.
In an instant, a myriad of sounds flooded his ears.
His mind was like an invisible dial, slowly turning, filtering out layers of meaningless noise.
Marshal Ming... Marshal Ming...
Fu Juemin’s consciousness roamed through the sea of sounds. Slowly, he silently locked onto a familiar voice.
SHHH... The intermittent sound of speech was like a broadcast from a radio with poor reception.
"...Tomorrow... the great Han Yi celebration..."
"...Xu Family... the great families of the city gather at the pier..."
"You will all follow me! We’ll blow the city gates and respectfully welcome... Marshal Ming into the city!"
"SHHICK—"
Fu Juemin’s eyes suddenly flew open, a brilliant light shining within them. His pupils seemed to spin like black lotuses.
He started for the door and casually asked a servant waiting outside.
"Is Father home?"
"Young Master, the master went out to discuss business and has not yet returned."
"Go, call my father back. Tell him I have something urgent to discuss with him."
"Yes."
The servant took the order and hurried away. Fu Juemin looked down at the beautiful red ribbon he had wound around his fingers. A light danced in his eyes as he murmured to himself, ’Finally... it’s about to begin.’
....
The twenty-seventh of November, the first day of the tenth lunar month.
The Winter Clothes Festival, colloquially known as the Great Bestowal of Winter Clothes.
This was the most important festival after the onset of winter. On this day, at dawn, every household in Luan River County began to take out their long-prepared incense, candles, and offerings to burn before their doors in tribute to the legendary "Lady Han Yi."
The so-called offerings were nothing more than clothes, shoes, and hats cut from a few pieces of five-colored paper. Occasionally, a well-off family might stuff some scrap cloth and cotton into the layers of the paper clothes—this was already a rare luxury.
Legend has it that in ancient times, there was a seamstress in the south with the surname Zhao. Her skills were extraordinary, and her heart was as benevolent as a Buddha’s. Every winter, seeing the poor inadequately clothed and the many who froze to death, she made a great vow to sew winter clothes for all the lonely and destitute in the city.
She sewed day and night, finally finishing the last padded jacket on the night of the first day of the tenth month, only to die of exhaustion.
After her death, the common people, grateful for her kindness, honored her as "Lady Han Yi."
It is said that from then on, every year on this day, the homeless would receive winter clothes from her in their dreams, or discover folded cotton jackets in corners...
Many people might not observe the "Crossing of Winter" or "Entering Winter" festivals, but no one in Luan River County dared to neglect the annual Great Bestowal of Winter Clothes.
In this world, all the common folk sought was to be warm and fed.
This year’s Winter Clothes Festival, however, was somewhat different from years past.
First, there was a great disaster in the Southwest this year, and a large number of refugees had fled here. They were still gathered outside the city, not yet properly settled. As winter set in and the weather grew colder, cases of refugees freezing and starving to death had begun to occur continuously these past few days.
Second, under the leadership of Master Xu Shirong of the Xu Family, many of the great families in Luan River City were preparing to hold a grand and solemn water ritual by the Luan River.
Although many such lively ceremonies had been held earlier this year, and a considerable amount of fruit and live animals had been thrown into the water as offerings to the River God each time...
...the poor below cared little for such things. They only knew that on the day of the water ritual, the great families of the city would set up stalls to distribute porridge. If one was early and lucky, they might even receive a cotton jacket for the winter.
Luan River Pier, by the water’s edge.
Just past noon, roaring fires were already burning under dozens of large iron pots that had been set up temporarily. A thin gruel, so watery one could almost see their reflection in it, bubbled within.
An immense, dense crowd, stretching nearly as far as the eye could see, gathered before the pots. They were all sallow-faced, emaciated refugees and beggars, many with their families in tow. Each person clutched a clay pot or a broken bowl, their eyes fixed on the steaming pots of gruel as if they wished they could fall right in.
"Don’t push! There’s enough for everyone!"
"Form a line!"
Servants from the great families, armed with cudgels, beat them forcefully on the rims of the pots, shouting loudly as they struggled to maintain the order that was on the verge of collapse.
Not far from this bustling scene, by a sacrificial altar that had been constructed early on and draped with red cloth, a group of impeccably dressed gentry and masters were exchanging pleasantries and laughing as they slowly made their entrance.
Hu Fulai, the magistrate of Luan River County, walked at the front, flanked by Zhou He, the deputy chief of the police department, who was dressed in a crisp uniform.
Then came Xu Shirong.
He stood in the position that should have belonged to Fu Guosheng, his face wreathed in smiles, surrounded by a crowd of peers and friends.
It was no longer a secret that the Xu Family had taken advantage of the Fu Family’s need to sell off its assets to meet the Donation Decree, secretly buying up everything on a massive scale.
By the time the quick-witted realized what was happening and tried to follow the Xu Family’s lead, it was already too late.
Now, anyone with a bit of foresight could see that with the fall of the Fu Family, the rise of the Xu Family—who had once trailed behind the Fu Family like a loyal dog wagging its tail for scraps—was unstoppable.
No matter how greedy and arrogant the Governor’s Son, Song Lin, was, he would have to leave sooner or later.
Xu Shirong had used the fat and blood of Luan River’s great families to half-satiate Song Lin, then seized the perfect moment to climb to power by stepping on the Fu Family’s corpse...
Even if these people cursed Xu Shirong to death in private, they had to admire his vision, his decisiveness, and his utter ruthlessness!
It was rumored that Xu Shirong had secretly reached an agreement with Song Lin, willing to send half the profits from his recent acquisitions, along with his own second daughter, to Song Lin’s residence.
Once the matter of the Donation Decree was over, it was feared that more than half of all industries in Luan River County would henceforth bear the Xu family name.
Xu Shirong, face flushed with success and pride, beaming with delight, took the main seat on the ceremonial platform to observe the rites.
Not far behind him, Xu Leyi, as the current public face of the Xu Family’s authority, was equally in the limelight.
But for some reason, as Xu Leyi gazed at the refugees begging for gruel nearby and the winter-clothes river lanterns floating on the distant Luan River, she felt an inexplicable sense of unease.
