Chapter 5: Being Framed by Others

"How old are you this year?"

"Eleven or twelve, or perhaps twelve or thirteen; I cannot say for sure."

"Then I shall count you as twelve. When were you sold to the Rongguo Mansion?"

"Not long ago, a year or six months perhaps. Before that, I worked for Mother Lai."

"Do you remember your parents? Do you have any other relatives left?"

"This, this... I was very young when I was cast out, and I remember little of my family circumstances. I have only a cousin, a maternal aunt's son named Wu Gui, nicknamed 'Duoguan.' If not for his care over these years, I would have starved to death."

"Have you asked your cousin Wu Gui about your family background?"

"What could he remember? My cousin is a weak and incompetent man, obsessed with drink. As long as there is wine, meat, and money, he cares for nothing else. If he did not possess a talent for cooking, I fear he would not have survived until today."

"Where is your cousin Wu Gui now?"

"Last month, thanks to the connections of Chief Steward Lai Da, he began helping in the Rong Mansion's kitchen, hoping for an opportunity to be bought in. But today, since the Old Matriarch has sent me to you, I can no longer look after him. I do not know if Chief Steward Lai will still be willing to help me."

...

On the way back, Wu Tiande chatted with Qingwen, finding the conversation quite intriguing. On one hand, she claimed to have no memory of her origins or family details; on the other, she had exhausted every means to beg Chief Steward Lai to have her cousin Wu Gui bought into the Rongguo Mansion to live off its rations.

This was hardly a lack of memory; it was a fear of ever mentioning her past to outsiders.

"Damn it, I've been saddled with a hot potato," Wu Tiande realized with a sudden, depressed thud in his heart.

It was obvious: after Chief Steward Lai bought Qingwen, he must have discovered something problematic about her background. Deeming themselves unable to handle the repercussions, they had Mother Lai present her to the Old Matriarch. Seeing that the Old Matriarch favored her, they used that as a pretext to bestow Qingwen upon her.

By doing so, the Lai family not only eliminated a potential liability but also earned a favor from the Old Matriarch—a double win that ensured their silver was not wasted.

Fortunately, since Mother Lai dared to offer her and Lady Shi (the Old Matriarch) dared to accept her, it suggested that the case involving Qingwen's family was not of a high order. It was likely a minor dispute that the Lai family could not or would not interfere with, yet one that the masters of the Rong and Ning mansions did not consider worth their attention.

Now that Qingwen had fallen to Wu Tiande, she had passed through three sets of hands; even if she bore some guilt, it would be limited. Years later, when Wu Tiande grew into a high-ranking officer of the third grade or above, this would be an even more trivial matter.

Thus, Wu Tiande did not intend to turn her away. Who would willingly let go of a little sprite that had already fallen into their bowl? Moreover, in his past life, he was the son of a high-ranking official. Though he had been a playboy obsessed with luxury cars and models, he possessed basic political acumen.

As they say, clear water breeds no fish. In these cautious times of humble beginnings, holding a small piece of leverage over one's superiors is better than having no leverage at all.

Upon returning home, Wu Tiande put away the cloth and herbs and arranged for Qingwen to stay in the east side room. She proved to be very diligent, scrubbing the house inside and out until it shone, and sweeping the courtyard immaculately. However, she was truly hopeless in the kitchen. The first time she cooked, she burned the meal to a crisp.

"Well, it's edible," Wu Tiande said after taking a bite, offering a word of encouragement.

Of course, while Qingwen could eat the charred food, Wu Tiande had no desire to; he had already eaten his fill at the banquet earlier. Seeing her look dejected—unable to finish the meal for two, yet feeling it wrong to discard it—Wu Tiande slipped out of the house, wanting to spare her the embarrassment and himself the trouble.

It was not that he begrudged the cost of the grain and vegetables. It was simply that no one wanted to carry the reputation of being wasteful, nor could anyone truly afford to.

He decided to wander the streets and alleys for a while, taking a stroll before heading home. Little Flower Branch Alley was an ordinary lane in Beiping, barely a hundred steps from end to end. It was less than half a zhang wide, just enough for a single carriage to pass through.

The walls on either side were mostly old blue bricks; after the winter frost and snow, the withered grass sprouting from the crevices had frozen into a scorched yellow, looking like a natural tapestry of decay. There were only twenty or thirty households, all small families with modest frontages. The vermilion paint on the doors had long been worn away by time, leaving only dark red traces. Beneath the walls, each house had piles of coal for the winter; their blackness made the evergreen trees in the courtyards look all the more vibrant.

"When I have time, I could go into the honeycomb coal business," Wu Tiande thought.

In the biting winter cold, Wu Tiande walked slowly, shoulders hunched and hands tucked into his sleeves. He strolled from Little Flower Branch Alley all the way to the West Drum Tower Street. Seeing that dusk was falling and fearing the impending curfew, he bought some sugar-steamed pastries and jujube-paste yam cakes from a shop, then headed home with the food box.

"Here," Wu Tiande said, handing the box to Qingwen. "You are at an age where you need to grow. Eat some pastries when you're hungry; it wouldn't do to stunt your development."

*I don't like bean sprouts,* he thought to himself, keeping the words unsaid.

"Yes," Qingwen replied. Seeing the exquisite pastries inside, her eyes crinkled into a smile. She whispered to Wu Tiande, "I truly couldn't eat the burned food earlier, so I gave it to the wife of Bao Er next door. I didn't waste a single bit. She asked just now when that Master Liu Xianglian would return to practice martial arts, so she could come over to help in the kitchen for free."

Recalling how the woman had stared at Liu Xianglian with such infatuation a few days ago, Wu Tiande felt a wave of revulsion. Relying on her slender waist and full hips, the woman was a flirt who cast her nets everywhere—clearly not a virtuous sort.

If Wu Tiande were a bachelor, it wouldn't matter. When she had seduced Liu Xianglian, revealing more than her fair share of skin, he had enjoyed the view. But now that he had taken in Qingwen, the situation was different; he must not let this woman corrupt his household.

"Hmph, I shall go to the market tomorrow and buy a watchdog. Any leftovers from now on will go to the dog. As for someone like Bao Er's wife, if I am not home, she is not permitted to visit," Wu Tiande commanded with a cold face.

Qingwen quickly agreed. Being young, she did not understand the underlying complexities and assumed Wu Tiande was merely displeased because he begrudged the wasted food. *It seems I truly cannot waste grain anymore,* she thought. *Small households are certainly not like the noble, aristocratic Rongguo Mansion.*

Wu Tiande was unaware that he had been looked down upon by Qingwen. The next morning, he bought a local dog from the market, left it under Qingwen’s care, and named it Wangcai. He also bought more rice, flour, oil, and vegetables, leaving them all for Qingwen to manage.

For the next ten days, Wu Tiande stayed indoors, diligently practicing his martial arts. Soon, he mastered the essence of the "Wang Family Saber Technique" and gained an understanding of the spirit of the "Returning Wind Falling Goose Sword." However, his actual combat capability was hard to gauge; neither his uncle Wu Xindeng nor his reckless friend Liu Xianglian were his match. As for more formidable martial artists, he neither knew them nor had the financial means to hire one as a sparring partner. His progress in martial arts would have to stay as it was for now.

Seeing the time, he had to report to the Shenji Camp.

"Wangcai, I have business to attend to today. Look after the house well, and when I return, I shall reward you with a meaty bone."

Before leaving, Wu Tiande instructed the dog. Over the last ten days, the dog had grown and become familiar with its two masters. Wu Tiande didn't expect it to stop any villains; he only needed it to sound a persistent alarm in a crisis. After all, this was Beiping, under the Emperor's feet; basic public order was guaranteed.

"Wang, wang, wang..." Wangcai barked repeatedly in Qingwen’s arms until the carriage Wu Tiande had hired disappeared at the end of the alley.

The Shenji Camp was located in the southern suburbs of Beiping, within the royal hunting grounds. Because a river ran through the park, forming vast lakes and marshes, the area was lush and teeming with birds and beasts—a perfect place for hunting and vacationing. As one of the three major battalions of the capital, the Shenji Camp was stationed here to minimize its impact on the city, ensuring the roar of cannons would not disturb the lives of the residents.

Wu Tiande arrived smoothly, but the sight before him left him astonished. The main gate of the so-called Shenji Camp consisted of two peeling wooden doors, with the three characters "Shenji Camp" barely legible on the lintel. Four soldiers stood at the entrance, all gaunt and sallow, their armor hanging crookedly over patched, common cloth. When they saw Wu Tiande approach, one of the leaders lifted his eyelids lazily, not even bothering to ask a question.

Wu Tiande looked around, wondering if he had come to the wrong place. After confirming it was correct, he stepped forward to state his purpose. "Excuse me, brother. I am Wu Tiande, newly joined, here to report to Flag Officer Deng Gang." He even presented his official appointment document from the Ministry of War.

The soldier merely glanced at the document without reaching for it, mumbling, "Go on in. Flag Officer Deng is waiting inside."

Wu Tiande put away the document, sighing inwardly. He had expected the Shenji Camp, an elite force guarding the capital, to be at least somewhat disciplined. The scene before him was more lax than the gatehouse of a county school, which was truly hard to believe.

Crossing the gate, he entered a wide parade ground. It was overgrown with weeds, with only a small patch in the center kept flat. A few soldiers sat by the field, sunning themselves and fiddling with rusted muskets, with no sign of any training.

"Are you Flag Officer Wu?" a resonant voice came from behind.

Wu Tiande turned to see a burly man in his thirties with a faint scar on his face. His armor was worn neatly, and his eyes held a hint of sharpness.

"I am indeed Wu Tiande. May I ask who you are?" Wu Tiande asked, clasping his hands.

"I am Deng Gang, Flag Officer of the Left Sentry of the Shenji Camp." Deng Gang’s face was wreathed in smiles, his attitude very accommodating. Having already learned of Wu Tiande’s background from his superior, Thousand-Man Commander Sun Shaozu, he had no intention of making things difficult.

"Calculating the time, you were due to arrive," Deng Gang laughed.

Wu Tiande quickly handed over the appointment document. "I have troubled you, Flag Officer Deng."

Deng Gang took the document without looking at it, rolling it up and tucking it into his tunic. He patted Wu Tiande on the shoulder with a smile. "No need for such formality, Flag Officer Wu. We are all brothers now. Come with me; I shall show you around and explain the camp rules."

As they walked, Wu Tiande asked hesitantly, "Flag Officer Deng, is our Shenji Camp... always this leisurely?"

Deng Gang chuckled and lowered his voice. "Heh, there are no wars, are there? Though we are one of the three major battalions, since we are stationed outside the city and the Emperor never comes here, the brothers have become lax in their training, doing just enough to get by."

He paused and added, "As for duties, it is simple. Just remember: on the 5th, 15th, and 25th of each month, report for roll call at the end of the dawn hour. After roll call, if there is nothing to do, you are free to go."

"That is all?" Wu Tiande asked in surprise.

"That is the main thing," Deng Gang nodded. "There are no other strict requirements. As long as you do not violate military law, no one cares if things are a bit loose. By the way, your quarters are in the row ahead. I have had them tidied up, and the bedding is new. On days of roll call, you may come the night before."

Watching Deng Gang’s cautious demeanor, Wu Tiande vaguely understood. He had secured this position in the Shenji Camp thanks to his uncle Wu Xindeng’s influence, and Deng Gang had clearly figured out his connections, hence the courtesy. Yet, looking at the dilapidated camp and the gaunt soldiers, Wu Tiande felt a sense of bewilderment. Was this the feared Shenji Camp? The legendary elite force armed with firearms?

Finally, he said helplessly, "According to regulations, five men make a squad, ten men make a platoon, two platoons make a flag, with one Flag Officer in charge..."

Before Wu Tiande could finish, the seemingly amiable Flag Officer Deng reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, his expression turning ferocious.

"Flag Officer Wu, you have deep connections, and it is fine to come here to polish your resume. But if you try to skim off the soldiers' rations the moment you arrive, that is going too far, is it not?" Deng Gang said with a sinister tone.