Yu Mobai, Lord of Yancheng

In the following days, Yu Mobai took the initiative to invite them to experience many unique and novel activities in Yancheng.

From lotus picking by boat to treasure hunting at the night market, each activity is ingeniously arranged, both fun and dignified.

Yu Mobo is like a magnet, always attracting everyone's attention and making the originally boring official inspections come alive.

Even the notoriously picky Liu Huaijin had to admit that getting along with Yu Mobai was a rather easy and pleasant experience.

The scene of that day of parting is now vividly before my eyes.

The morning mist in Yancheng had not yet dissipated, carrying a damp chill, as he stood on the stone steps in front of the city lord's mansion.

Watching the servants load the bound accounts and the divided silver boxes onto the carriage, his fingertips unconsciously caressed the warm jade buckle at his waist.

Logically, having successfully completed the mission, he should be eager to return home, but a strange emptiness lingered in his heart, and his anticipation of returning to the central area faded somewhat.

Yu Mobai stood beside him, still smiling, holding an exquisite brocade box in his hands.

"Young Master Liu, this is a porcelain cup with ice-patterned decorations, a specialty of Yancheng. It's perfect for brewing tea, making it exceptionally refreshing and delicious. It's just a small gift, nothing special, but you can take it back as a souvenir."

When Yu Mobai spoke, his eyes were clear and his tone was light and natural, as if he were simply giving an ordinary gift.

Liu Huaijin took the slightly heavy brocade box, and when his fingertips touched the cool, smooth porcelain surface, his heart stirred inexplicably.

He opened the box and saw two elegantly glazed teacups lying quietly on a velvet cushion, with two small characters carefully engraved on the bottom of each cup – “陌” and “瑾”.

This thoughtfulness goes far beyond a typical polite gift!

His Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and the few polite words he had prepared suddenly became difficult to utter.

The straightforward phrase "Let's keep in touch" lingered on his tongue for a while, but was ultimately suppressed by the inherent pride of a young master from a prominent family.

He paused, his gaze fixed on the streets shrouded in mist in the distance, and spoke in a deliberately indifferent and vague tone.

"Although the central area is not as carefree as Yancheng, it's still worth a visit if you have some free time. After all... there aren't many people you can hang out with."

These words, though subtle, represent the maximum effort he could put into persuading his ex-husband to stay.

Yu Mobai's smile deepened instantly, like ripples spreading across a lake after a pebble has been thrown in.

He took a half step forward, lowered his voice, and asked a question he already knew the answer to with a sly, deliberate air.

"Oh? From what Young Master Liu is saying, you think I'm someone you can 'have fun with'?"

He was standing quite close, carrying a faint, fresh scent, like that of some kind of grass or tree.

Liu Huaijin felt his ear tips burning slightly, but he refused to back down in terms of momentum. He looked up at Yu Mobai, deliberately raising his voice, but the uncontrollable curve at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

"Otherwise what? Do you really want to be stuck in Yancheng as a figurehead city lord for the rest of your life?"

As soon as he finished speaking, Yu Mobai chuckled softly, a clear and melodious sound.

He bowed with his hands clasped, striking a pose that conveyed a tacit understanding and a willingness to go along with things.

“Brother Huaijin, you are a rare and kindred spirit to me. If you don’t mind, I wonder if I would have the honor of visiting you in the central district in the future?”

The word "fortunate" was used humbly and politely, yet it gave Liu Huaijin a perfect way out.

Liu Huaijin frowned slightly, feigning contemplation, as if after careful consideration, before reluctantly raising his chin with a tone that seemed to bestow a favor.

"Alright, if you really go, send someone to let me know beforehand, and I... might be able to find some interesting things for you in the city center."

Before he finished speaking, he couldn't help but curl the corners of his lips into a smile, which also dispelled much of the faint reluctance in his eyes caused by parting—it turns out that some feelings don't need to be said directly, and the feeling of mutual understanding is so comforting.

The attendants had already prepared the carriage and urged us to set off.

Liu Huaijin turned and stepped into the carriage. Before the curtain was lowered, he couldn't help but look back once more.

Yu Mobai still stood alone on the stone steps shrouded in the misty morning light, waving in the direction he had left. His figure gradually faded into the distance, yet it remained clearly imprinted in his heart...

Standing outside the Song residence, recalling every detail of his trip to Yancheng, and comparing it with the suffocating oppression and distortion in his cousin's courtyard just now, Liu Huaijin suddenly felt a strong contrast.

He didn't crave the destructive intensity of Song Guansui; instead, he increasingly felt that interacting with someone as intelligent, interesting, and adept at getting along with others as Yu Mobai was truly comfortable and enjoyable.

He suddenly felt a deep longing that the day of Yu Mobai's "visit" would come sooner, much sooner.

Perhaps, the dull life in the city center will be enriched with different colors because of that person's arrival.

This thought, like a ray of sunshine, dispelled the gloomy mood he felt because of Song Guansui.

He straightened his robes and strode toward his carriage, his steps seeming a little lighter.

— — — —

Inside the study of the city lord's mansion in Yancheng.

The warm, sunny facade that Yu Mobai wore all day long shattered quietly, like a fragile glass mask.

Yu Mobai sat alone behind his desk, his fingertips unconsciously tapping the hard sandalwood tabletop, producing a dull but rhythmic sound that was particularly clear in the quiet room.

The personal attendant, Hongdou, quietly served a cup of calming tea. Looking at her young master's furrowed brows and gloomy eyes, she felt as if a huge rock was pressing on her heart.

He knew the young master too well—this time, the arrival of the nobles led by Liu Jinhuai in the central district was like a blood-sucking locust, easily sweeping away half of Yancheng's annual revenue.

This means that in the coming winter, the people of Yancheng will have to tighten their belts again and struggle through hunger and cold.

And the invisible burden on the young master's shoulders has undoubtedly become even heavier.

Yancheng—nominally one of the eight major cities, it was actually outwardly strong but inwardly weak, far more dilapidated and desolate than the other cities.

A stark contrast uncontrollably surfaced in Yu Mobai's mind.

The mansions of the powerful and wealthy lined the central district, where revelry continued night after night within their vermilion gates and high walls. It was said that Liu Zhao, in order to celebrate his favorite concubine's birthday, mobilized a great deal of manpower and resources to transplant exotic flowers and plants from the south into his courtyard, completely disregarding the farming season and delaying agricultural work...

In the slums of Yancheng, the low-lying mud-brick houses shivered in the rain, and the leaking rainwater could only be caught in broken earthenware pots.

The children wore tattered clothes covered in patches, their little hands holding bowls of mixed grain porridge that reflected their images and was strewn with sand. Their eyes did not hold the innocence that children should have, but rather the timidity and bewilderment that life had worn down them from an early age.

Even more tragically, these aristocratic scions from the central district continue to run rampant in Yancheng.

If the people in the city are not served properly, they will be beaten and scolded at will by their evil servants.

He once witnessed an old farmer being kicked in the chest and collapsing to the ground, vomiting blood, simply because he was a little slow to dodge.

The nobles, however, merely scoffed dismissively: "They're just commoners; they won't cause any trouble even if they die."

This harsh reality reminded Yu Mobai of his father, the old city lord Yu Zhenming.

That man, who also cared deeply for the people, watched helplessly as Yancheng gradually declined. He was so anxious that his mouth was covered in blisters. Time and again, he rushed to the central district day and night, hoping that those in power would lend a helping hand, but each time he was ruthlessly turned away.

Finally, on a cold, rainy night, the father sat in the same study, facing the notebooks on people's livelihood that he had painstakingly written, coughing violently. The candlelight illuminated his pale face, and his eyes were filled with unyielding despair.

He could have lived a life of debauchery like a true puppet city lord, but the sense of responsibility to "save Yancheng" burned like a raging fire, tormenting him to death.

Hongdou stood aside, her heart filled with indescribable anxiety.

He was filled with fear, afraid that the intelligent and sensitive young master, who also bore a heavy responsibility, would follow in the footsteps of the old city lord.

A while ago, the young master was unusually excited after hearing about the deeds of "Mr. Jiang" from Southeast Jincheng, and his eyes regained their light.

It was as if I saw a beacon of like-minded people in the fog, and a real hope for the future arose within me.

But Liu Huaijin and his group's arrival was like another bucket of ice water, nearly extinguishing the faint flame.

However, there was something even heavier and more difficult for Hongdou to talk about, like a red-hot iron branding his palm—a secret report he had just received, which he clutched tightly, almost squeezing water out of it.

The secret report said that Jiang Manyan, the "benevolent man" who gave the young master endless hope and strength, was killed by robbers in the East District.

This was undoubtedly a bolt from the blue. Hongdou could almost imagine the pain the young master would feel upon hearing this news.

He hesitated, struggled, and couldn't bear to deliver such a fatal blow to the young master at this critical moment.

However, Hongdou underestimated Yu Mobai's resilience in dire straits.

When he finally presented the secret report with trembling hands, Yu Mobai did experience a moment of excruciating pain.

His face was deathly pale, his fingers clenched tightly, his knuckles turned white, and his obsidian-like eyes were filled with disbelief and deep sorrow.

But soon, that sadness was replaced by a cold clarity.

He had stood on the edge of the vortex of power for too long and knew all too well its intrigue.

What robbery and murder? This was nothing short of a despicable murder! It was the nobles in the central district who could not tolerate the rise of a "reformist".

They cannot tolerate anyone challenging their authority or opening up a path to survival for the common people, so they must ruthlessly suppress them!

A tremendous grief and indignation surged within him like magma, but instead of burning him to ashes, it forged an unprecedented determination within him.

He cannot fall, much less sit idly by and wait for death!

The ideals of "Jiang the Benevolent" must not be abandoned, and his great deeds must be carried on!

He suddenly raised his head, the confusion and pain in his eyes replaced by an almost burning determination.

He strode back to his desk, spread out the letter paper, ground the ink, and began to write. His brushstrokes carried a heavy, painful force, and even more so, a resolute determination to burn his bridges.

"red beans!"

His voice was deep and steady, without the slightest hesitation.

"Send this letter to Jincheng as quickly and discreetly as possible."

The letter may contain condolences or warnings, but more importantly, it conveys a message.

The flame of resistance will not be extinguished. Yancheng is willing to stand shoulder to shoulder with all like-minded people in this darkness.

At this moment, Yu Mobai made the most important decision of his life—transforming himself from a helpless city lord trying to survive in the cracks.

He transformed into a rebel determined to carry on the legacy and proactively plan for the future.

Turning his grief and anger into strength, he made up his mind to embark on a path that was more difficult and more determined than his father's.

...