Chapter Thirty-Two: Boss, Are You Stirring Up Trouble? (Part One)

Sleepy.

Though he had no mirror, Ming Tian knew his eyes must be swollen like donkey eggs. Last night, troubled by the matter of Yu Nizi, he’d hardly slept, and at the crack of dawn, he led her—along with two others—on the road to the Lanling Commandery mansion.

“In Chan, how do I look?”

“Unshaven.”

“Oh, An Luo, lend me your Swallow-winged Blade. I need to shave.”

“Ming Tian, brother, I don’t think that’s wise. If you slip, you might slice off your face. Besides, our bodies are gifts from our parents...”

The three exchanged idle chatter as they traveled. Yu Nizi, however, remained silent, simply holding onto An Luo’s thick arm, the very image of a blissful young bride.

Yin Chan glanced back at Yu Nizi and An Luo. The look was enough to make An Luo’s skin crawl.

“Miss Yin Chan, I... I... There’s really nothing between us, truly...”

“I never said there was,” Yin Chan retorted, recoiling in disgust as An Luo edged closer.

An Luo, looking as pitiful as a child, tugged at Ming Tian’s sleeve. “Brother Ming Tian, what should I do?”

“What do you mean, what should you do?” Ming Tian shook off his hand. “Don’t drag me into this.”

“Brother Ming Tian...”

An Luo had become flustered and awkward, uncertain whether to welcome or evade the beauty clinging to his arm.

Yet Ming Tian was not so easily fooled. Even with history altered, this woman—once renowned for her beauty—was infamous in Hua Xia’s annals as a bringer of ruin. As expected, Yu Nizi hummed a cheerful tune, but her enchanting phoenix eyes opened ever so slightly, a fleeting shadow of hostility glinting within.

Ming Tian noticed it all.

Yu Nizi’s gaze was fixed on the figure at the head of the group—Yin Chan.

Lanling Commandery Mansion.

This was the ancestral home of the Duke of Lanling, the equivalent of a modern city hall. The vast estate stretched its walls a hundred meters from the imposing main gate, covering over twenty acres. Eighty-eight enormous golden studs adorned the bright red doors, and even the lion-head handles were set with twin rubies for eyes.

With no modern paints, the red pigment was concocted from pig’s blood and other strange substances, giving the doors a perpetual, peculiar tang of blood. But such oddities were nothing compared to the sheer grandeur—one could easily mistake this mansion for an imperial palace.

“Halt! Who goes there?”

The guards here were clearly more professional than those at Douhu Prefecture, their faces betraying no emotion but severity as they blocked Ming Tian’s path.

“Are you blind, daring to stop me?” Before Ming Tian could speak, Yu Nizi stepped forward and snapped at them.

The two guards, previously composed, faltered at the sight of her. “You’re... Miss Yu Nizi?” they stammered.

“Since you know, why haven’t you announced my arrival?”

She shed her earlier demure air, her tone sharp and commanding—a queen in all but name.

“Yes, right away!” One of them dashed into the mansion.

Ming Tian watched Yu Nizi’s abrupt shift in demeanor and frowned. This woman was truly mercurial.

Moments later, a resonant voice echoed from within.

“Yu’er? Yu’er, is that really you?”

A middle-aged man strode out, his hair flecked with gray, clad in a golden robe trimmed with black. The concern on his face was unmistakable as he spotted Yu Nizi.

“Godfather!” Yu Nizi ran to him, flinging herself into his arms, sobbing. “Godfather, I thought I’d never see you again.”

Godfather?

Ming Tian glanced at Yin Chan, who responded with a bewildered expression, equally lost.

“Yu’er,” the man said gently, smoothing her disheveled hair with open affection, “where did you go last night? I heard your entire escort was killed in an alley. What happened?”

Between sobs, Yu Nizi recounted the previous night’s events, then looked toward An Luo.

“Luckily, Young Master An Luo and his friends were skilled enough to save me. Otherwise... I might never have seen you again.”

Young Master...

Ming Tian had long wanted to comment on how Yu Nizi addressed An Luo.

Sister, open your eyes! What about this broad-shouldered brute looks like a gentle scion? With that hide like a rhinoceros, you’d be closer calling him Old Iron!

“Oh?”

The man’s gaze filled with gratitude as he turned to An Luo, stepping forward and clasping his fists. “Thank you, Young Master An Luo, for your aid last night. I am Wang Jingze, Grand Marshal of Wuxing.”

“N-no need for thanks...”

One had to admit, rank in ancient times was clear-cut. The Grand Marshal was a top official, equal in rank to the Champion General, Cui Huijing—a general of the highest order. An Luo, a mere battalion commander, was naught but a foot soldier by comparison. Even if Ming Tian were to marry the Princess of Jiangmen and become her consort, his rank would likely not surpass Wang Jingze’s.

In theory, An Luo should be the one bowing, not being saluted by Wang Jingze. The sight so startled An Luo that the nearly two-hundred-pound strongman began trembling like a leaf.

“M-m-m-ming Tian—brother Ming Tian!”

He shook so hard, he looked ready to burst into tears.

Weren’t you supposed to be a deadly killer? Why does a salute from a high official turn you into a quivering pig’s head? Show some backbone!

Clearly, An Luo would only make things worse if left to manage this scene.

Yin Chan, aware that as a woman in this patriarchal age she shouldn’t intervene, sensibly stepped aside.

So annoying.

Ming Tian rolled his eyes with a long sigh, stepping forward to interrupt Wang Jingze.

“Grand Marshal Wang, a pleasure to meet you.” Ming Tian greeted him with an easy smile.

Wang Jingze paused, surprised. “And you are...?”

“I am Zhuge Buliang, styled Ming Tian. You may call me Ming Tian. I am the consort chosen by Princess Jiangmen. An Luo here is a commander of the Di Tribe’s Gale Army, assigned by the princess to escort me to the capital.”

“Oh?” Wang Jingze’s face lit up. “You’re the consort selected by Xin Zhu? Excellent, excellent, excellent!”

His admiration was evident as he looked Ming Tian over. “You are indeed a fine gentleman—Xin Zhu chose well.”

Brother, you’ve only just met me—what’s with all this talk of not choosing wrongly? That’s some insincere flattery.

“Last night, An Luo and I heard your daughter’s cry for help and acted on impulse. There’s no need for thanks, sir. It is my duty to champion justice.”

Wang Jingze’s appreciation for Ming Tian only deepened.

He turned to Yu Nizi with a hint of reproach, “Yu’er, is that so? The consort also saved you? Why didn’t you mention it?”

Yu Nizi was clearly stunned to learn Ming Tian was the princess’s consort. After a moment, she bowed her head. “I was too nervous... and too happy to see godfather, so I forgot.”

She glanced at Ming Tian now and then, her thoughts unreadable.

“My daughter was rude—please forgive her, Consort,” said Wang Jingze humbly, despite his higher official rank.

His affection for Yu Nizi was plain.

But as Ming Tian observed along the way, Yu Nizi seemed to harbor some hostility toward Yin Chan, and now, perhaps, toward himself as well—her devotion was reserved for An Luo alone.

This woman was certainly not as innocent as she seemed.

His instincts told him as much.

“Sir, you’re too kind—there’s no need for such courtesy.”

After a few more polite exchanges, Wang Jingze invited Ming Tian into his home, stating he wished to thank him properly and introduce him to Qi Guli, Chen Xianda, and Xiao Yaoguang.

Naturally, Ming Tian had no reason to refuse.

Barring surprises, tonight Wang Jingze would hold a banquet in Ming Tian’s honor.

Whether he could win over Yu Nizi and accomplish great things—tonight would reveal the answer.