Chapter 61: A letter from Jiang's father pulls Jiang Ge onto the pirate ship.
Django's eyes narrowed suddenly, the long, narrow corners of his eyes drooping into a sharp arc, casting a sinister shadow in the dim twilight.
Looking at Wu Shifu lying on his back, it was clearly a condescending and arrogant posture, much like the once high and mighty young master of the Jiang family.
"Cough cough..." Wu Shifu suddenly grinned, his mouth stained with blood. The churning blood in his throat made his voice sticky and distorted, like a dying viper flicking its tongue: "Your father... asked me to deliver a letter to you..." Each word seemed to be squeezed from his lungs, carrying a unique malice, "He said... he misses you very much..."
Jiang Ge froze on the spot as if struck by lightning, her pupils contracting violently to the size of pinpoints—during these peaceful days in Songyang County, she had almost forgotten the original owner's hypocritical father, the murderer who had personally pushed the original owner to her death.
At this moment, it was like a venomous snake that had been lying dormant for many years, suddenly leaping out from the depths of her memory and biting her throat fiercely.
Wu Shifu moved his arm with difficulty and pulled a yellowed letter from his pocket. The edges of the letter were frayed, clearly indicating that it had been repeatedly handled. "I want to see... what your father wrote..." He grinned, a twisted smile spreading across his face, his eyes gleaming with a morbid excitement.
He suddenly realized a cruel truth—not only had he been abandoned by his father, but the glamorous Magistrate Jiang in front of him was also a pitiful creature abandoned by his father.
No, she's even more pitiful than him.
Wu Shifu never received complete fatherly love, so being abandoned was only to be expected; while Jiang Ge once had an enviable, unconditional fatherly love, but now he is discarded like trash.
How ironic.
Perhaps Jiang's father can't even remember what Jiang Ge looks like now?
With a beautiful wife and young children, how could he possibly remember Django?
The thought brought a surge of sweet, metallic pleasure to his throat, almost making him laugh out loud.
The letter paper rustled in the wind, like a dying white butterfly.
Jiang Ge stared intently at the familiar wax seal—a unique design of the Jiang family, the Jiang family, Jiang's father.
Qin Shubao and Yuchi Jingde exchanged bewildered glances. Ever since this blood-covered man appeared, Magistrate Jiang seemed like a completely different person. Her aura suddenly darkened, and even the twilight seemed to solidify around her.
Yuchi Jingde glanced at Jiang Ge, then suddenly slapped his forehead. He knew how to describe Magistrate Jiang now.
Pitiful.
Only these two words can describe Magistrate Jiang at this moment.
Django's silence lasted only a brief moment.
When she looked up again, all her emotions had subsided, leaving only a businesslike calm. She took the letter, her fingertips trembling almost imperceptibly, before she tucked it into her pocket, her movements as swift as if she were handling a trivial official document.
"Find him a clinic," she instructed Yuchi Jingde and Qin Shubao, her voice eerily calm. "Don't let him die." Her departing figure cast a long shadow in the setting sun.
After a long day of work, the afterglow of the setting sun painted the sky red, but the crowd in the fields showed no sign of dispersing.
The farmers gathered around the edge of the field, their rough fingers carefully handling the golden ears of wheat, their eyes gleaming with disbelief—they had never seen such a high-yielding wheat variety in their lives. The grains were plump and heavy, bending the stalks as if not even the wind could move them. Someone couldn't resist plucking a grain and chewing it. Immediately, their eyes widened, and they exclaimed excitedly, "Sweet! So sweet!" The people around them burst into laughter, discussing how the wheat would yield next year after it was planted, as if they could already see granaries piled high with grain, and they would never have to worry about going hungry again.
Not far away, Zhuge Liang was being held by the sleeve of a child, making it difficult for him to move.
Liu Ju looked up, his eyes sparkling, like a clingy puppy, refusing to let go: "Sir, Ju'er doesn't want to be separated from you!" Today was truly an eye-opening day for him. For the first time, he didn't have to stay indoors memorizing those obscure and difficult ancient books, but instead followed Zhuge Liang around the fields, learning while playing. Zhuge Liang taught him to judge the quality of wheat ears, to calculate the harvest, and even let him touch the plow, telling him about the hardships of farming.
This fresh and vivid knowledge is much more interesting than the ancient classical Chinese phrases recited by the tutors!
Liu Ju became increasingly reluctant to part with Zhuge Liang, so he grabbed Zhuge Liang's arm and shook it playfully, saying, "Teacher, please continue teaching me, okay? I promise I'll be obedient!" Zhuge Liang looked down at the child's expectant face and couldn't help but chuckle. He reached out and ruffled Liu Ju's hair, saying gently, "Alright, as long as Your Highness is willing to work hard, I will show you more and teach you more." Upon hearing this, Liu Ju's face lit up with a smile, and he was already planning where he would pester his teacher to take him to play the next day.
Huo Qubing strolled leisurely towards the wheat field, stepping on the soft paddy ridges. A blade of grass he had casually broken off was dangling from his mouth, his hands behind his head, his steps lazy yet agile, like a young cheetah patrolling its territory.
"It's time to take that kid back..." He squinted and spotted two figures, one big and one small, by the edge of the field in the distance.
The gentle twilight enveloped them. Zhuge Liang was half-squatting, his wide sleeves hanging down onto the mud, yet he showed no sign of dishevelment, but rather an air of transcendence. He held a stalk of wheat in his hand, patiently pointing out something. Liu Ju, meanwhile, looked up at his teacher with unblinking eyes, his focused expression like that of a puppy eyeing a bone.
Huo Qubing couldn't help but slow his pace.
A gentle evening breeze rustled through the wheat fields. Zhuge Liang's voice drifted faintly: "...Therefore, governing a country is like farming; one must understand both the timing of the seasons and the advantages of the land." He gently patted Liu Ju's shoulder. "Does Your Highness understand?"
"Understood!" Liu Ju nodded vigorously, then suddenly grabbed Zhuge Liang's arm. "What you say, sir, is much more interesting than what you say, Grand Tutor!" His little face was full of admiration, and his eyes shone with an astonishing light. "Will you teach me again tomorrow?"
Huo Qubing raised an eyebrow.
He had never seen Liu Ju like this before—when he was in the Eastern Palace, the child always had a stern face and would bow and greet people respectfully, just like a miniature version of a court official.
Unlike now, he was just an ordinary child who clung to his elders and acted spoiled.
"Ahem." Huo Qubing cleared his throat deliberately and strode over. Liu Ju turned around at the sound, and upon seeing him, he immediately shrank behind Zhuge Liang like a startled rabbit, but couldn't help but peek out half his head, staring expectantly at Huo Qubing.
He doesn't want to go back now.
"It's time to go back." Huo Qubing nodded to Zhuge Liang and reached out to grab Liu Ju by the back of his collar.
"General, please wait." Zhuge Liang smiled and blocked his way, saying gently, "Let Your Highness go on his own." He then lowered his head and said softly to Liu Ju, "Your Highness should review what you have learned today when you return."
Liu Ju pouted, clearly reluctant, but still obediently let go of Zhuge Liang's sleeve. He shuffled over to Huo Qubing's side, then suddenly looked up and said crisply, "Cousin, how about you come with us to learn farming from the teacher tomorrow?"
Huo Qubing almost choked on his own saliva.
"No, I was born for the battlefield."
He even patted Xiao Liu on the shoulder. He's Huo Qubing, the legendary swordsman! Farming? Ridiculous!
When Zhuge Liang stepped into the office, dusk was already casting dappled shadows on the blue brick floor through the window lattices. By this time, the office should have been deserted, but the room was brightly lit, with several figures standing or sitting, none of them missing.
Zhuge Liang paused slightly, his feather fan waving gently as he revealed a perfectly timed expression of confusion: "What's going on, everyone...?" His gaze swept across the faces of the crowd, his voice gentle yet inquiring, "Is there perhaps an unusually heavy workload today?"
There was no response from inside. Yuchi Jingde leaned against a pillar with his arms crossed, his thick eyebrows furrowed; Qin Shubao was repeatedly stroking the rim of his teacup, the tea already cold; even Zheng He, who was usually the most composed, was standing by the window, his fingers unconsciously tapping on the window frame.
Silence filled the air until the candle flame popped with a "snap".
“This afternoon…” Qin Shubao finally spoke, his voice a little tight, “Magistrate Jiang met an old acquaintance.” He paused, his brows furrowing even deeper, “The man was covered in blood, and said… he brought a letter from Magistrate Jiang’s father.”
Zhuge Liang suddenly stopped holding his feather fan.
"And then?" His voice remained steady, but with a hint of seriousness.
"Then Magistrate Jiang..." Yuchi Jingde couldn't help but interrupt, a rare look of worry appearing on his rugged face, "...like a completely different person. He accepted the letter and left in a hurry, without even a word of explanation."
Huo Qubing suddenly turned around, a sharp glint in his dark eyes: "What did Magistrate Jiang say at the end?"
"They just told us to find a clinic for that man and not let him die," Qin Shubao recalled. "His tone..." He shook his head and didn't continue.
Silence fell upon the room once more. Outside the window, the last rays of daylight were swallowed by the twilight, and the candlelight cast long shadows of everyone, weaving them together on the wall.
Zhuge Liang sighed softly and waved his feather fan again: "Are you all worried about Magistrate Jiang?"
"Magistrate Jiang is usually very composed," Yuchi Jingde said in a low voice. "His unusual behavior today must be related to that letter..."
What was in that letter?
"Father's letter..." Zhuge Liang gazed at the deepening night outside the window, his eyes deep. He recalled Liu Ju's innocent and carefree smile as he tugged at his sleeve during the day, and also remembered that Magistrate Jiang was still very young.
"Please rest assured, everyone." He turned to face the crowd, his voice gentle yet firm, "Tomorrow..."
Before they could finish speaking, a beam of white light transported everyone back to their respective dynasties, and the system forcibly took everyone off work.
What exactly was in the letter?
Django had the same question. The letter from home lay quietly on the table, the family crest stamped with wax glaringly bright in the candlelight. Her fingertips trembled slightly, but she finally opened the letter.
"My daughter, how have you been?"
The familiar handwriting caught her eye, and Jiang Ge's chest tightened. Damn it, if even one person saw this letter, her true gender would be exposed. In this dynasty, disguising oneself as a man was a capital offense, and could even implicate one's entire family.
Wasn't Jiang's father afraid of being beheaded?
The ink on the letter was so strong it seemed to penetrate the paper, each word piercing the heart: "I've heard you're quite popular in Songyang County and have gained a valiant general, which greatly pleases your father. However, recently His Highness the First Prince has expressed interest in recruiting you, and I have already agreed on your behalf. If you refuse—"
The ink stopped abruptly here, spreading into a large blot of smudge.
"Don't blame me for not showing any fatherly affection."
A burst of sparks from the candlelight illuminated Jiang Ge's ashen face. Good news doesn't travel far, but bad news travels fast. The eldest prince is a fool. Everyone in the world knows that he is plotting a rebellion, and Jiang's father actually joined him. What a fool!
He's courting death and dragging himself down with him.
In Jiang's father's eyes, the original owner was just a pawn that could be sacrificed at any time.
Chess piece—sacrifice.
Django placed the letter over the candle flame, watching silently as the flame consumed it. Since her father wanted to play this game, she would let everyone see how this sacrificed piece could backfire on the player.
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Author's note: [Okay] The next chapter will be about recruiting blind box characters. Who are you all looking forward to seeing?
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