Chapter 103: A Good Conspiracy Should Begin at the Very Start

Chapter 103: A Good Conspiracy Should Begin at the Start

In what felt like a single instant, Tie Xinyuan felt as though he had found the foundation for his future conduct and survival.

Lies and truths are twin sisters; they complement each other to form the colorful world of language. Neither can exist without the other, and together, they intertwine to roll forward, unfolding all the changes and upheavals of the human world.

Tie Xinyuan decided that he would learn from Baozi in the future: use the truth to package himself, and then use lies to achieve his ulterior motives.

Use the truth for defense, use lies for offense, and decide how to shift freely between the two based on the situation at hand.

All the virtues of the world are highly lethal to others, especially when directed at good-hearted people who have little resistance against such attacks.

As long as one lived under the shadow of the imperial city, everyone knew Baozi’s character. If it came from his mouth, it had to be the truth—this was the consensus of almost everyone on the street.

Consequently, after Baozi repeated his worries to the shopkeeper's wife, he managed to acquire a copper hairpin—originally priced at twenty-three coins—for only nine.

The shopkeeper's wife, whose height barely reached Baozi’s waist, adored such simple-minded children. She couldn't help but look at the fool who took out the hairpin every second to admire it, and when she wanted to affectionately stroke his head, she even had to wait for Baozi to deliberately bend down.

"Hehehe... heeheehee... hahahaha."

"Brother Yuan, do you think my mother will like it?"

"She will."

"Brother Yuan, if I put the hairpin on for my mother later, do you think she will like it?"

"She will."

"If I leave the hairpin by the stove so my mother finds it by accident, do you think she will like it?"

"She will."

"What if I put it by the bed?"

"She will."

"I still think it’s better if I put it on her myself..."

"As you wish..."

For some reason, in the end, the three copper coins in Tie Xinyuan’s hand also ended up with Baozi. The fellow walked Tie Xinyuan to his doorstep, watched him go inside, and only then did he jump high into the air in triumph before running home.

As Tie Xinyuan closed the door, he caught a glimpse of Baozi’s joyous figure, and his own mood lifted imperceptibly.

Since the neighbor’s child was so devoted to his mother, he certainly couldn't neglect his own. Upon entering, Tie Xinyuan grabbed a broom and swept the courtyard until it was spotless before heading inside.

His mother was busy calculating accounts with a small abacus. He stepped forward and adjusted the wick of the oil lamp, brightening the room.

Seeing that his mother’s teacup was empty, he brewed a fresh pot and filled it for her before heading to the kitchen to fetch his own dinner.

The meal was good—a large bowl of oily noodles accompanied by a small dish of greens. Tie Xinyuan ate with great satisfaction.

Wang Rouhua, having finished her calculations, walked over with a frown. Placing Tie Xinyuan’s small coin purse on the table, she said, "Out of money again? I’ve put another fifty coins in here for you. Be frugal; which family has a child of your age spending more than an adult?"

Tie Xinyuan, his mouth full of noodles, looked at his mother in confusion, not understanding why she was giving him money again.

"You, who are usually so lazy, actually went to sweep the courtyard and even remembered to pour tea for your mother? All right, stop pretending. I know you want money; next time you're out, just ask for it directly. This roundabout way of asking makes one’s heart ache."

Tie Xinyuan decided not to explain and just buried his head in his noodles, only kicking the fox aside when it came over to beg for meat sauce.

After dinner, Tie Xinyuan habitually went into the courtyard to watch the stars. The fox didn't care about the insult at all; thick-skinned, it lay at Tie Xinyuan’s feet to enjoy the cool air. The winter fur was too thick, and it was uncomfortable in the warm house, so it kept him company, ears pricked, watching a group of chubby puppies romp around the yard.

Wang Rouhua followed her son’s gaze and smiled. "So you're watching the stars. The Weaver Star is right there; look carefully, and across the Milky Way is the Cowherd Star. Son, once upon a time, there was a fairy in the sky..."

Tie Xinyuan looked at his mother, feeling a bit depressed. "Mother, you’re looking at the wrong place, aren't you? It's winter, the time of year with the most bright stars. What you're pointing at is Venus; it will set in half an hour. The Weaver Star is over there, and what you’re pointing at isn't the Milky Way either. The best time to view the Milky Way is summer and autumn, when the sun drags us into a position closer to the galactic center, making the Milky Way clearer and brighter. The winter Milky Way is much dimmer and not suitable for viewing..."

Before Tie Xinyuan could finish his lesson on astronomy, he received a slap on the head.

"There is no talking to you. I say the Weaver Star is there, so it is there. Who dares say it isn't? Why does Venus always linger on the horizon? It looks sneaky and like a bad star. Isn't the Weaver supposed to be having an affair? Its sneaky appearance suits her situation perfectly. Sit still, and I’ll tell you the story of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl..."

Seeing his mother’s imposing manner, Tie Xinyuan dared not argue. He endured with patience as she told the bizarre and disjointed love story of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl, and eventually, he saw her off.

As Wang Rouhua reached the door, she suddenly looked back and asked, "Where has the little princess gone? Why haven't I seen her for so long?"

Tie Xinyuan smiled. "I heard the Emperor isn't in the palace either; he’s gone to the retreat palace to avoid the cold. Don't ask me; I don't know where the retreat palace is. Why, do you like the little princess that much?"

Wang Rouhua returned to the courtyard and picked up the fattest puppy. "These puppies are weaned now; it’s time they found their own masters. Son, how many dogs do you think we should keep?"

Tie Xinyuan replied immediately, "Naturally, we should keep them all. If we give them away one by one, the fox will certainly be very sad."

Wang Rouhua frowned. "That won't do. If we don't give any away, in two years, the courtyard will be full of dogs. We aren't raising them for meat, so why keep so many? I just wanted to ask since these puppies were raised by the princess, I wanted her advice."

Tie Xinyuan picked up a puppy and looked it over, realizing this was indeed a major problem. These were common mongrels. The dogs kept by the wealthy were usually fierce guard dogs, while the nobility kept sighthounds for hunting. Only commoners kept these mongrels, which were neither fierce nor good hunters. Their primary function was to bark twice when a thief entered to alert the master, then curl up and wait for the master to chase the thief away.

Therefore, there were many dog meat shops in the Eastern Capital, where butchers would clean them and sell them as mutton.

Holding a furry ball of meat in his arms, Tie Xinyuan could not associate them with food. If the princess knew the dogs she raised were being eaten by others, heaven knows what crazy things she might do.

However, there were truly too many dogs in the house. They were small now and didn't seem crowded, but by next autumn, when they grew into large dogs, the house would likely be uninhabitable.

This needed to be handled as soon as possible—the sooner, the better.

Tie Xinyuan waited for several days but did not see the princess. He estimated she wouldn't return until at least the Lantern Festival.

He heard from Su Mei that Liu Sanbian had left, carrying his bundle back to his hometown in the Wuyi Mountains to see the rice blossoms. Tie Xinyuan felt he had done a good deed; at least Liu Sanbian hadn't died by the river, and of course, the courtesans no longer had the poetic opportunity to collect his remains.

Yang Huaiyu hadn't been staying in Piluo Lane these days; he had gone to a desolate Taoist temple outside the city with a group of strongmen from the Tiger Wing Battalion. He wanted to use this final period to improve his martial arts as much as possible.

Xiao Qiao hadn't been idle either. He not only went to the frozen river to catch hibernating toads but also practiced his blowpipe incessantly.

The blowpipe was easy to master. After this period of training, his accuracy had become terrifying. A withered fly on a wall ten paces away could not escape his deadly aim.

Tie Xinyuan’s method of extracting toad venom was cruel. He first woke the toads using a warming cabinet, then used tweezers to squeeze their necks. The poor toads had gone all winter without food or water, and only a tiny amount of venom could be extracted from the sides of their heads, but the toxicity of the venom at this time was astonishing.

After filling a hollow bamboo tube with the venom, he shot it at a chicken. In just a short time, the chicken began to convulse, its legs stretching out long as it collapsed, its beak tapping the ground repeatedly until it finally went still.

When the big yellow dog at Granny Hua’s place was hit by the blowpipe, it developed rapid breathing and convulsions within the time it took to burn a stick of incense, foaming at the mouth. After twitching in a corner for half an hour, it slowly returned to normal.

Xiao Qiao wanted to find a rogue in the marketplace to test the power of his weapon, but Tie Xinyuan strictly forbade it.

However, Xiao Qiao still made a trip to Maxing Street that night. The next day, rumors spread through the Chunfeng Pavilion that Old Cai, the matchmaker, had died of a sudden stroke during intimacy.

The martial arts examinations, held every two years, were finally set to begin after the noisy Lantern Festival.

In an instant, the Eastern Capital was filled with many tall, imposing men. They arrived from all directions, some on horseback, others on foot, carrying their weapons.

This was no different from previous examinations, with the only exception being that at every city gate, there was suddenly an extra clerk with a ledger, specifically recording the accommodations of the warriors entering the city.

They claimed that as long as they left their names in the ledger, they would receive a bottle of fine wine from a major restaurant in the capital, and a storyteller would weave their life stories into tales to be spread throughout the city.