Chapter Eight: My Brother Is Amazing

In this era, the sprawling metropolis of the capital has become home to a vast multitude of idlers. People of the time refer to these aimless, shiftless vagabonds as "loafers."

Under the western city wall lies the Fourth Alley, and in the first small courtyard at the eastern end stands a pair of drafty, dilapidated rooms. This is the dwelling of Liu Cunyi, the "good brother" closest to Bai Yu’s original self during his days as a loafer.

Liu is a rugged young man, nearly eight feet tall, three or four years older than Bai Yu, and currently unmarried. Because Bai Yu’s maternal grandmother and Liu Cunyi’s grandfather were first cousins, the two share a distant familial bond.

"You’ve been missing for days; what’s the situation? Have you been under your father’s thumb?" Liu Cunyi asked curiously.

Bai Yu followed the cue, answering, "That is indeed the case. I’m here to hide out for a few days." He dared not mention his plan to register for the examinations, fearing he would once again be labeled mentally ill.

Liu Cunyi sighed, "Having a father to discipline you is still better than being a man without parents like me."

The night passed without incident. By the following morning, seeing Liu Cunyi heading out alone, Bai Yu quickly asked, "Where are you going? Why not take me with you?" It was not that Bai Yu was particularly attached to "Brother Liu," but rather that he was penniless; if he didn't stick to his companion, he wouldn't know where his next meal was coming from.

Brother Liu gave a knowing wink and replied, "The place I’m going today isn't suitable for an underage kid like you."

Bai Yu: "..."

If you put it that way, I’m wide awake now.

Brother Liu explained, "I heard there are a few places in West Courtyard Alley hiring bouncers. I’m going to see if there’s an opportunity."

Working as a bouncer was considered the most "respectable" job among loafers, so this was not unusual. West Courtyard Alley was one of the two premier pleasure districts in the capital, located right in the heart of the western half of the city. This "West Courtyard" was shorthand for the "Western Courtyard of the Imperial Music Conservatory," which spoke volumes about its prestige.

Bai Yu said with a righteous air, "I have no interest in that West Courtyard Alley, but today, following you is the only way I’ll get a meal."

Brother Liu couldn't be bothered to argue with Bai Yu and allowed him to tag along.

Nearing noon, the two passed the great crossroads of the Western Market in the capital, only to find it teeming with people, the intersection packed tightly. Brother Liu was the first to react, remarking, "Good heavens! Another beheading. Judging by this turnout, it must be someone important."

With that, Brother Liu excitedly squeezed into the crowd. Bai Yu, also curious about the spectacle of an ancient execution, followed close behind. It was said that this intersection possessed a profound "beheading culture." Ever since the capital was established, the Ming court had consistently executed death-row prisoners here—the so-called "execution at the Western Market."

Especially over the last decade, amid internal strife and external threats from northern nomads and southern pirates, many officials had been executed by the volatile Emperor Jiajing. In the 27th year of Jiajing, Chief Grand Secretary Xia Yan and Three-Border Governor Zeng Xian were beheaded here together! In the 29th year, Minister of War Ding Rukui was beheaded here! In the 34th year, Vice Minister of War Yang Jisheng, Southeast Governor Zhang Jing, and Zhejiang Governor Li Tianchong were all beheaded here! And the reason for these executions all traced back to the current Chief Grand Secretary, Yan Song.

Inside the execution ground stood a haggard old man of fifty or sixty in prisoner’s garb, while at the edge of the arena, a scholar in his thirties knelt and wept bitterly. Numerous imperial soldiers formed a circle, firmly isolating the crowd from the execution ground and preventing Liu and Bai Yu from moving any further.

Liu whispered to Bai Yu, "This is a big affair. Listen to what others are saying and see what the situation is. Later, we can go to the city gates and sell the news to travelers just entering the city. It might earn us a few coins for pocket money."

Hearing the prospect of earning money, the impoverished Bai Yu stood his ground and pricked up his ears, carefully listening to the surrounding gossip.

"It’s a pity for this Governor of Jizhou and Liaodong, Wang Yu. Even though he lost the battle at the Luan River last year, his crimes shouldn't have warranted death," someone said.

"Alas, he offended Grand Secretary Yan, which is why he was sent to the execution ground for such a swift and severe punishment," another replied.

Others pointed to the scholar weeping at the edge of the arena, whispering to their friends: "That is Wang Yu’s eldest son, Wang Shizhen, a giant of the current literary scene and the leader of the 'New Seven Scholars' of the literary revivalist movement."

Another sighed, "Even a leader of the literary world is no match for the power of the Chief Grand Secretary and his son."

As for the loyalties, betrayals, and grudges of these high-ranking figures, Bai Yu, a impoverished youth at the bottom of society, could not yet empathize. He knew the name of Grand Secretary Yan Song, of course, but who was this Wang Shizhen?

Bai Yu couldn't help but use his AI assistant to search for Wang Shizhen, and he was slightly taken aback by the results. It turned out that this Wang Shizhen was the future leader of the literary world, dominating the scene for twenty or thirty years, with influence surpassing all other writers of his time. Any contemporary writer who wanted to make a name for themselves needed only a word from Wang Shizhen.

Bai Yu fell into deep thought. According to the tropes of transmigrators, this was the moment to find a way to make acquaintance with Wang Shizhen.

Plan A: Use AI to generate or plagiarize poetry to impress the future literary leader...

While Bai Yu was carefully weighing the pros and cons, Wang Shizhen, kneeling at the edge of the arena, suddenly pulled a foot-long scroll from his robes, while holding a fire-starter in his other hand.

"This family tragedy is all because of this object; it is an omen of misfortune! I shall burn it for my father first!" Wang Shizhen shouted toward the execution ground in great grief.

Liu stared at the scroll in Wang Shizhen’s hand, muttering to himself, "That painting must be worth a fortune."

A look of infinite hatred flashed in Wang Shizhen’s eyes as he considered his father’s impending beheading. He blew sharply on the fire-starter, intent on igniting the scroll in his hand, his expression resolute and decisive!

Let it be destroyed! Even if it is a world-renowned painting worth ten thousand gold, it shall go to the grave with my father! From this day forward, no one shall ever possess this painting again! Not even the overbearing Chief Grand Secretary Yan Song or his son, Yan Shifan!

No sooner said than done—a hand suddenly reached out from behind him and snatched the scroll away. The completely unsuspecting Wang Shizhen felt his hand lighten, and suddenly, it was empty.

Behind him came a shout: "Jinyiwei informant at work, bystanders stay back!"

Bai Yu stood nearby, dumbfounded. The person who had suddenly reached out to grab the painting was none other than his dear Brother Liu.

Damn it! He was still pondering how to trick the leader of the literary world, and Brother Liu just went straight for the robbery? Did other transmigrators' sidekicks and "big brothers" not follow such unconventional paths?

At this moment, Liu Cunyi kept his head down, one hand waving a short blade while the other gripped the scroll to cover his face as much as possible, flashing through the gaps in the crowd with lightning speed. As for the future leader of the literary world, Wang Shizhen, he remained in a state of utter confusion...

In broad daylight, under the clear sky, someone was actually robbing the memorial offerings of a prisoner's family at an execution ground? Was there any heavenly justice left? Was there any rule of law? What about human decency? What about civility? It was precisely because of trashy Chief Grand Secretaries like Yan Song, who deserved to be hacked into ten thousand pieces, that the security of the capital had become such garbage!

As a native of the capital, Liu Cunyi, thanks to his habit of idling, was very familiar with the streets and alleys of the West City. After fleeing the execution ground, he expertly wove through a dozen more alleys. Confident that no one was following him, he found a secluded corner and sat down to rest, gasping for breath.

He waited until nightfall before slowly returning to his home in the Fourth Alley. Bai Yu had already returned and had been waiting for a long time.

"Brother! Where’s the painting?" Bai Yu asked impatiently.

He was now considering that once he got his hands on the painting, he would find a good excuse to return it to Wang Shizhen. Wouldn't that allow him to befriend the future literary leader? Perhaps it would be even more effective than simply bonding over poetry. This was a high-value connection, well worth the investment.

Brother Liu pulled the scroll from his robes and tossed it to Bai Yu without a second thought.

Bai Yu slowly unrolled the scroll, examining it closely. He discovered that the painting was incredibly long, visually at least ten feet! On the edge of the canvas were five large characters: "Along the River During the Qingming Festival."

Bai Yu’s eyes widened: "..."

You’re amazing, brother. You really are a natural-born saint for big events—assuming this painting is authentic.

A second ago, Bai Yu was still thinking of ways to return the painting to the future literary leader to exchange for a connection. A second later, he realized a truth—treasures are meant for the virtuous, and he was that virtuous one.