Chapter Thirty-Six: The Return of the Storm

In Zheng Yanqing’s eyes, lineage certainly mattered, but it was not important enough to make him willingly board the Zheng family’s treacherous ship. As for the family genealogy...

He knew well he was not truly a Zheng. Even if admitted into the family records, what difference would it make? He was neither of the main line nor even a collateral branch—merely a distant, barely-related offshoot. What real benefit could that bring him?

In contrast, for the Zheng family—or more precisely, Anyuan Hall—they could leverage his reputation to restore their standing among the gentry, reaping far greater rewards. Compared to what he would gain, the Zhengs’ benefits were astronomical. Even if Yanqing managed to establish himself independently in the future, he would still have to live beneath the shadow of the Zheng clan of Xingyang, perhaps never able to truly sever those ties.

Yet, even so, Zheng Yanqing could not refuse.

To be included in the family genealogy was a lifelong dream for Zheng Shian. He would never object. Even if Zheng Shian harbored resentment toward Zheng Renji or even Zheng Dashi, he still felt a profound sense of belonging to the greater Zheng family.

Such is the power of clan.

Not something that Zheng Yanqing’s words alone could dissolve.

As for Yanqing himself, he dared not voice a refusal. Though Zheng Dashi always wore a kindly, benevolent smile, if he and his grandfather rejected this favor, Zheng Dashi would surely turn cold and merciless, perhaps even erase them from existence. After all, they were still no more than household servants.

Once they were like ants; now, with a bit of fame, they were only sturdier ants.

Yanqing knew his own reputation was not yet resounding enough—let alone to contend with a behemoth like the Zheng family. The title of “Lord Goose” might make Zheng Dashi hesitate, but never truly fear.

So bow his head...

Yanqing had no choice.

Yet, such matters were always mutual exploitation. The Zhengs used him to reclaim their place in the scholarly world, but did he not also need the Zhengs to help him achieve greater renown? Only when his name became so grand that the Zhengs were forced to heed his wishes could he truly live as he pleased. But that path would hardly be easy.

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Elevating Zheng Shian and his grandson from household slaves to holders of fourth-rank status was not difficult; however, entering the family genealogy was another matter entirely.

The benefits Zheng Dashi foresaw were not necessarily evident to others. For instance, Zheng Shanyuan, the current head of the Zhengs and master of the Sutra Hall, was not in favor. Other branches voiced opposition as well. Among the seven houses of the Zheng clan, only the second house, led by Zheng Mao, firmly supported admitting Zheng Shian to the family records. The rest remained ambiguous.

The second house’s support stemmed from Zheng Weishan’s service at Anyuan Hall. Though only a concubine’s son, his martial skill and rising status had gradually drawn the attention of his house. After inquiring about Yanqing’s situation, the head of the second branch agreed to Zheng Shian’s return to the clan.

This emboldened Zheng Dashi, and after fierce bargaining, the matter of Zheng Shian and his grandson’s return to the family was settled. After all, Zheng Shian’s mother was a Zheng by blood—however thin or humble, the lineage was undeniable.

By the time all was settled and Zheng Shian and his grandson performed the ancestral rites at the family temple, officially becoming members of the Zhengs, it was already mid-March.

Yanqing’s days in Xingyang passed with relative ease, while Luoyang had descended into chaos.

A century-old noble house had produced a prodigy once more.

The name “Lord Goose” already resounded far and wide, but when the complete Eight Principles and the poem “Qingming” appeared—further fanned by Zheng Dashi’s machinations—Yanqing’s fame swept the scholarly world overnight. The Eight Principles, being the first systematic critique since the establishment of the “Eight Principles of Eternality,” drew particular attention. Masters of calligraphy such as Ouyang Xun and Zhiyong published detailed commentaries on Yanqing’s essay. These two, being the pillars of the calligraphic community, lent immense credibility to his work.

Compared to Yanqing’s earlier “Ode to the Goose,” the impact of the Eight Principles was far more profound.

Zhiyong, a descendant of the Wei-Jin calligraphy master Wang Xizhi, was lauded in the essay as the forefather of the Eight Principles alongside Zhong Yao—a high honor indeed. Thus, Zhiyong’s praise for Yanqing was effusive, calling him a pioneer in calligraphy, a master of the age. Ouyang Xun, though more reserved, was no less admiring.

With these two speaking, the effect was immediate. Previously, whether praised by Yang Su or noticed by the Emperor, the aloof literary elite remained indifferent. Ouyang Xun and Zhiyong, however, were revered as grandmasters. With their endorsement, Yanqing’s “Yan style” calligraphy soared in prestige, now seen as rivaling the very best.

Such is the power of great houses.

Achievements others might strive for a lifetime to attain, they could secure with ease.

Soon after, the poem “Qingming” spread, and the phrase “scholars would rather burn than seek rank” became a rallying cry among the refined. “Though we hold no office, it is not that we cannot, but that we will not. What we seek is dignity—our pride is beyond the grasp of petty schemers.”

The scholarly elite—since ancient times, always a formidable force.

Once their praise for Yanqing began, his fame became inevitable.

All at once, the price of paper in Luoyang soared as “Qingming” was copied and circulated everywhere.

The Zheng residence in Luoyang was besieged by visitors. Some came to pay their respects, some to request calligraphy, and others, with more dubious intent, sought to ride Yanqing’s fame to their own advantage. After all, given Yanqing’s youth, many believed that handling him would not be difficult, no matter what masterpieces he had produced.

At the end of March, Zheng Yanqing set out from Xingyang again with Zheng Shian, returning once more to Luoyang.

This time, he was no longer the obscure Zheng family servant from mere months before. Through the Zhengs’ maneuvering, and on the strength of two poems and one essay, Yanqing had secured his place in the literary world as the renowned Lord Goose.

Zheng Shian, riding in the carriage, felt as if he were dreaming.

A lifelong wish had been fulfilled—he had leapt from slave to fourth-rank status, now possessed of a hundred acres of fertile land. How could he not feel dazed? Those around him now addressed him not as Steward Zheng, but as Master Zheng. Zheng Dashi had gifted him ten strong servants and four beautiful maidservants for his retinue. Such treatment brought both joy and unease.

“Yanqing, what are your plans when we return to Luoyang?”

Yanqing, ever composed, smiled and replied, “Continue my studies, practice martial arts... Oh, and there’s the matter of Grandfather Hammer.”

Zheng Shian frowned. “You still want to attend the academy?”

“Yes!”

“The master... the head of the family said he wanted to hire a distinguished scholar for you, or perhaps have you study under Master Yan. What do you think?”

“Grandfather, a teacher for a day is a father for life.

I already have a teacher—how can I take another? Besides, Master Yan and I have an unfinished wager. If I were to become his student now, it would be awkward for both of us. Better to return to the academy, as before—is that not the best?”

But you are not the same as before!

Zheng Shian thought to himself. Though the string of surprises had left him giddy, he was well aware of Yanqing’s situation. Yanqing’s teacher, Mr. Li Ji, was certainly capable and well-connected—anyone able to persuade an elder of the Dou family to vouch for Yanqing could not be ordinary.

But Mr. Li Ji was virtually unknown. Before this, no one had even heard his name. Yanqing studying under him might not be ideal.

Yet Yanqing was tight-lipped and resolute. Zheng Shian wanted to persuade him, but considering Li Ji’s life-saving favor, it would hardly be right to turn on him now, just as they came into fortune.

Best to bide his time—repay Mr. Li’s kindness, and then try to persuade Yanqing to reconsider.

So Zheng Shian dropped the subject and changed the topic to Grandfather Hammer.

After arriving in Xingyang, Yanqing had asked Zheng Weishan to send a message to Grandfather Hammer: “No rush with the Dragon Blade—wait until I return and we’ll discuss it.” At first glance, it seemed Yanqing was merely instructing Grandfather Hammer to hold off forging some scissors until his return. Scissors were, after all, ordinary household items; Zheng Weishan thought little of it.

Grandfather Hammer might have been a rough man, but he was no fool—Yanqing trusted he would understand. Yet the matter had dragged on for over a month due to the business of rejoining the clan, and though Grandfather Hammer had not pressed for an answer, now the matter had become urgent. Yanqing would have to act as soon as they reached Luoyang.

From Yanqing’s words, Zheng Shian could tell his grandson had a clear plan for the Dragon Blade.

Upon their return to Luoyang, Zheng Shian himself would no longer be the man he once was. He now had many responsibilities: managing his own fields and overseeing the Dragon Blade project. As a servant, he had always put the Zhengs’ interests first—even concealing the scissors to secure Yanqing’s future.

But now, he began to calculate the profits.

As the saying goes, “where you sit determines how you think.” Position shapes priorities. Making money was never something Zheng Shian had considered before, but now he pondered how to become truly wealthy.

He even resolved to keep Yanqing out of it as much as possible. Merchants might be rich, but their social standing was low—too much involvement would not serve Yanqing well in the long run.

“Master, Luoyang is here!”

Outside the carriage, a burly servant called softly.

Zheng Shian snapped from his thoughts, took Yanqing’s hand, and stepped out together.

In the distance, the ancient, battered walls of Luoyang glimmered with a somber majesty in the sunlight. Though scarred by war, the city’s imperial grandeur remained palpable.

Gazing at the faint outline of Luoyang, Zheng Shian could not help but smile.

“Yanqing, we are home!”

Yet Yanqing’s eyes shone with a different light: Yes, we have returned, but a new era is about to begin...