31. I still prefer your brother the way he was, unyielding and untamed. (Happy New Year to all the handsome ones!)

Liu Ziwen was in his thirties, with an unremarkable appearance. Dressed in a round fur cap and a gray silk robe, he looked like any ordinary wealthy man one might pass on the street without a second glance.

Compared to the towering, crane-among-chickens presence of Ouyang Rong and Xie Lingjiang, who stood in the crowd outside the main hall, Liu Ziwen’s demeanor was entirely eclipsed. Yet, the moment he arrived with his limping servant, he became the focal point of the gathering, second only to the Magistrate Ouyang Rong himself, drawing the constant, watchful eyes of the local gentry and merchants.

There are some people in this world who, even at a first meeting, reveal their true nature with a single glance. Such was the case for these two. As the young magistrate and the mild-mannered head of the household locked eyes, they felt an instant, mutual familiarity—not one born of prior acquaintance, but rather from recognizing something within themselves.

It was the recognition of kin... the familiarity of clever men.

Before Liu Ziwen had even reached him, he cupped his hands and bowed respectfully. "I, Liu, a humble commoner, pay my respects to the Magistrate!"

Ouyang Rong stepped forward to greet him warmly. "Master Liu, you are too modest. You are no commoner; you are the Imperial Sword Envoy personally appointed by Her Majesty the Empress. It is I who should be calling you 'My Lord'."

Liu Ziwen shook his head and waved a hand. "It is merely a hollow title with no real authority. Her Majesty bestows such 'Envoy' titles every month; there are plenty of Lychee Envoys, Banana Envoys, and Woodcarving Envoys in the neighboring Lingnan Circuit. You, Magistrate, are a protégé of the Emperor; I cannot compare to you."

Ouyang Rong smiled and reached out as if to steady him. "Let us not argue over this. Please, Master Liu, come inside."

Liu Ziwen’s expression turned serious. "I cannot enter just yet. I must first offer my apologies to the Magistrate."

"Oh? And for what sin?"

"I failed to discipline my younger brother, who acted insolently toward you and Lady Xie in the street, causing you both distress. For this, I am guilty!"

"Ah, Master Liu, you still do not understand me. Your brother has quite a distinct personality—lively and spirited. I actually quite admire his unyielding nature. As the saying goes, 'to beat is to love, to scold is to cherish.' That day in court, I was overcome by such 'affection' and inadvertently had my men administer a few extra strokes. I hope you will forgive me, and I trust your brother will soon recover his spirited, unyielding self."

"..."

Liu Ziwen was momentarily speechless, but he soon waved his hand and replied with apparent sincerity, "My third brother is fine, and I thank you for your deep concern, Magistrate. Regardless, he was too unruly, and as his elder brother, I should make amends. I have no fine gifts to offer, but since you are hosting this fundraising banquet today, please allow me to make a modest contribution. I shall be the first to donate, to help give your efforts a successful start!"

"Very well, Master Liu, you are generous indeed." Ouyang Rong appeared deeply gratified. The surrounding gentry and wealthy guests broke into applause, creating an atmosphere of harmonious hospitality.

Amidst this lively scene, the guests took their seats. The luncheon began, and soon, the much-anticipated fundraising segment arrived.

"…Gentlemen! The development of water conservancy is by no means a private concern, nor is it a selfish attempt for me to pad my own performance record. It concerns every citizen of Longcheng County, whether they be scholars, farmers, artisans, merchants, or lowly servants. When the nest is overturned, how can the eggs remain intact?

"You are already aware of the difficulties facing the imperial court and the county office. Magistrate Diao has surely conveyed the follow-up policies and benefits for those who contribute actively to disaster relief, so I will not repeat them. Longcheng is in a precarious position, and the people are in dire straits. Let us not delay. We shall begin the fundraising. I will take the lead by donating my entire salary for my four-year term! Now, I invite you all to follow suit."

After Ouyang Rong finished his "brief remarks," the hall erupted in warm applause as he stepped down from the platform.

Once the young magistrate had taken his seat in the front row, he gestured toward the dozen or so gentry and powerful merchants with the ink-stained paper and red brush in his hands. He flashed a smile, revealing his white teeth, looking quite bashful.

"I have prepared a list, and I shall make sure to record the names of those who are generous today..."

Liu Ziwen suddenly rose and said sincerely, "Magistrate, I have a humble suggestion, though I am unsure if I should speak it."

"Speak," Ouyang Rong replied, looking him straight in the eye with immense patience. "There is nothing you cannot say."

"I feel that, aside from the donation tray for disaster relief and water conservancy on the stage, we might add a second tray. Magistrate, you love the people as your own children; you have been tireless in your efforts for water management since taking office. We cannot bear to see this, and we hope to offer you some funds for your 'paper and brush' expenses. I hope you will not decline."

Ouyang Rong pondered for a moment and nodded. "That is not impossible. But since these are private funds for my personal expenses, I assume you will have no objections to how I choose to use them—whether I donate them or turn them over to the state?"

Liu Ziwen nodded calmly. "You are known for your integrity and public service; that is entirely up to you."

"Very well, I thank you all for your consideration." Ouyang Rong replied easily. He signaled for two clerks to bring another tray lined with red cloth and place it on the platform.

Regardless, he would use all proceeds for water management. Beyond his baseline goal of three thousand guan, any extra silver would be welcome. It was merely a matter of trading favors. He was the one incurring the debt of favors, but for the people of Longcheng, this meant survival.

Xie Lingjiang, sitting in the second row behind him, shared similar thoughts. Seeing Liu Ziwen’s sycophancy toward her senior brother, her impression of the Liu family improved slightly. She had previously assumed the Longcheng Liu family were all wicked bullies like Liu Zilin, but it seemed that was not entirely the case.

Xie Lingjiang had never been particularly sensitive to money, but lately—whether due to Ouyang Rong’s constant recitation of grim disaster statistics or her own innate sense of justice—she found herself deeply empathizing with the refugees. She had begun privately tracking the price of rice on the streets of Longcheng and had become particularly invested in this fundraiser. She was well aware of the immense concessions and the exhausting maneuvering her senior brother had undertaken to make this banquet happen.

On that evening when she first went to the outskirts to find him, Ouyang Rong had expressed his utter disdain for the local gentry and powerful clans. Yet here he was, sitting in the front row, staring at those two donation trays, seemingly unbothered, though every moment felt like a slap to his own face.

Why would he do this?

Xie Lingjiang silently asked herself if she could ever swallow her pride in such a way. She suddenly recalled something her father had once said: When a man suddenly abandons something he once cherished, it must be because there is something far more important behind it.

At that moment, she noticed someone approaching. Looking up, she saw Yan Liulang, whom she had not seen for days. He arrived covered in the dust of travel, ignored the whispering gentry behind them, and leaned in to whisper swiftly to her senior brother. Ouyang Rong merely nodded, showing no reaction.

Yan Liulang, having returned from his errand, stood to the side with his arms crossed, remembering to nod at her. It seemed the grain transport from Jiangzhou had gone smoothly. Xie Lingjiang nodded back.

Finally, the clerks placed the new red-cloth tray onto the stage. Beside the donation trays stood a maid specifically tasked with recording and announcing the donations—an arrangement Ouyang Rong had made personally.

With everything ready, the fundraising officially began.

True to his word, Liu Ziwen was the first to rise. He walked to the stage, smiling like a spring breeze, took the money from his limping servant, placed it into the two respective trays, and stepped down with a smile. As he took the lead, the other gentry and merchants in the hall followed suit, one by one, each placing money into both trays. From the moment Liu Ziwen began, the maid on stage announced every donation without fail, so that everyone in the hall could hear exactly how much was being contributed.

Then, Xie Lingjiang saw the smile on Ouyang Rong’s face in the front row slowly fade... No, it didn't fade—he kept smiling—but in her eyes, it was indistinguishable from not smiling at all. After listening to the maid’s announcements for a while, he set down his brush, neatly folded the red paper he had intended to use to record the "active contributors" as if suffering from a compulsion, and then... dropped it straight into the wastebasket by his feet.

Xie Lingjiang knew why, for everyone in the hall now knew.

The crowded hall was silent, save for the maid’s clear, melodic voice echoing through the room:

"The Liu family of the West City, donating ten guan for Longcheng water conservancy, and fifty guan for the Magistrate’s paper and brush expenses..."

"The Cheng family of West River, donating ten guan for Longcheng water conservancy, and fifty guan for the Magistrate’s paper and brush expenses..."

"The Li family of the South City, donating ten guan for Longcheng water conservancy, and fifty guan for the Magistrate’s paper and brush expenses..."

"The Gongsun clan of Dingshan, donating ten guan for Longcheng water conservancy, and fifty guan for the Magistrate’s paper and brush expenses..."

On the stage,
The donation amounts were uniform,
And every announcement was perfectly in sync.

Below the stage,
The bully smiled,
And the scholar smiled back.