Joy of Life

Chapter 351: Old Shopkeeper

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

The master kneeled on the floor. His face flushed red, then white. Hearing the words "Ye family," he remembered the true identity of the person in front of him. A strand of memory hidden for many years gradually rose. He felt ashamed, angry, and scared. The feelings of shame were easiest to understand. After all, back then he was nothing more than a homeless beggar on the streets. To be where he was today, it was all because of the Ye family and what the mistress of the Ye family taught people like him.

As for the anger and fear, it came from his natural reactions—a kind of shame and anger after being completely stripped by others. Remembering that the imperial envoy was a descendant of the Ye family, he was afraid the other party already knew everything in his brain. If so, how would he use them to threaten him? Fan Xian had already beheaded master Xiao. Did he think himself better than that?

"The court has treated you well," Fan Xian looked at him and said each word clearly, "and not just you three masters. The official salary of even normal treasurers sometimes exceeded that of a Third-level official in Jingdou. What more did you want?"

A coldness flashed through his eyes. "Perhaps you think the palace treasury depends entirely on your heads, and the annual 20 million liang of silver has blinded you and made you feel unsatisfied? That you should fight for more?"

These words hit the heart of the matter for the treasurers. The palace treasury's yearly production was extremely abundant. When sold to other countries, it brought the Qing Kingdom huge profits. Although the treasurers' benefits were high, they still felt unsatisfied in their hearts when it was compared that huge sum of silver. They felt that since they earned the silver for the court, then they should be given more of it. This was why there was corruption, abuses of law, and exploitation of common people.

Hearing the imperial envoy say this, although the treasurers did not dare talk back, their eyes showed a sense of agreement.

Fan Xian laughed coldly and mercilessly ripped away their painted skin. He ridiculed them lightly, "But the question is…the things you rely on, are they truly things from your head?"

There was absolute silence in the workshop. Everyone, including the officials, all admitted to this truth, until Fan Xian said, "Don't forget, before the appearance of the Ye family, what did you know? Did the skills you hold in your mind drop from the sky? Was it taught to you in a temple?"

Fan Xian cursed, "Remember it well! This is what the Ye family taught you! If it weren't for the mistress of the Ye family back then, you would all be useless trash and kept digging in the mud and begging! Why did the Ye family build these large workshops? I think you have all forgotten! You want to use the things the Ye family taught you to threaten me right to my face? Do you want your face? Do you know shame?"

The officials behind him met each other's eyes. Although the court had long stopped pursuing the matter of the Ye family, and Sir Fan junior's past was also gradually known to all under heaven, this kind of public talking about the Ye family seemed to be breaking a taboo.

Fan Xian could not currently care about this much. On one hand, he was angry. On the other, he wanted to use this opportunity to right his name. In this world, regardless the matter, it should be done in the right and proper way—the so-called doing things for the right reasons. Today, when Fan Xian cursed and scolded the treasurers and decapitated a person, he did not talk about benefits. He first talked at the level of morality. With that, he had already taken the flag. To use the skills of the Ye family to threaten a descendant of the Ye family…was this not biting the hand that fed you and showing ingratitude?

The master of the Second Workshop finally fell and sobbed, "Sir, I know I was wrong. Please give me a chance. Let me use the skills I learned before to work for the court."

Although the master was crying and sobbing bitterly, the sharp-eyed Fan Xian did not find any traces of tears on his face. On the contrary, his lips were tightly pressed together. He couldn't help laughing coldly. He knew the other party still thought he wouldn't continue killing people and that the things in his head were still useful.

Fan Xian lightly clapped. When the sound of his clap faded, four elderly people, each half a century old, were escorted into the workshop by officials of the Overwatch Council. This elderly people were not bystanders, they were the Qingyu Hall shopkeepers that had come through the middle plains and Danzhou.

The officials of the Overwatch Council put out four chairs. Fan Xian rose. His face was expressionless, but he deliberately invited the four shopkeepers to sit with great respect.

The officials, treasurers, and workers were confused. Who exactly where these old men who looked like a breeze could blow them over? How could they have the right to sit on equal ground with the imperial envoy? Although Deputy Ma Jie didn't say anything, he was grumbling in his heart. Even I am standing behind the imperial envoy. These commoners are very daring.

Fan Xian's finger ran down his robe and dipped into some of the icy cold rainwater. He spread it between his eyebrows and gently rubbed it. He asked, "Do you recognize who these four are?"

The Ye family had already been fallen for almost 20 years, and the workers in the palace treasury workshops had not been that same group for a long time. Even the treasurers had never met the lofty 23 head shopkeepers, so they did not recognize who these four were. Even if there were people from before, the distance was too far and they could not see clearly.

It was the master of the Second Workshop kneeling on the ground who raised his gaze, filled with hesitancy, and slowly swept it over the faces of the four people. He then lowered his head and thought for a while. Suddenly he seemed to have remembered something. He was so frightened his legs softened; originally in a kneeling position, he immediately fell onto his bottom into the mud.

It had been 20 years since he had seen them. He, who had once been a little helper of the Ye family, also had to spend a long time before remembering who exactly was sitting in front of him—the old shopkeepers of the Ye family.

The Second master's body began to shake. Only now did he know why Fan Xian was so confident and fearless, why he forced himself and these treasurers to rebel, and why he did not care at all about the things he had in his head. He had brought the old shopkeepers who had been under house arrest in Jingdou with him to the palace treasury.

Who were the old shopkeepers? They were the first students of the mistress of the Ye family. They were also the masters of all of the later masters and helpers of the Ye family; they were the grand masters of these palace treasury treasurers. With this group of old men beside him, the imperial envoy did not care about the problem of the art skills dying out or need to worry about the production quality of the palace treasury. To be honest, back in the day, the palace treasury was originally built single-handedly by these old shopkeepers. How could they not know how to manage it?

Having thought through this point, the master's face was filled with hopelessness, however, there was still one thread of hope that existed deep inside his heart. He opened his mouth, struggled and crawled desperately in Fan Xian's direction. Sobbing he said, "Master, please ask for mercy for your disciple!"

Everyone was startled. Even Fan Xian was a little surprised. Of course he knew that this person was not begging mercy from him. Following the gaze of the master, he found that he was actually look at Seventh Ye. He couldn't help tilting his head and curiously asking, "Seventh Ye, this was your disciple before?"

Seventh Ye's face was heavy. He stared at the master's face and said in a raspy voice full of bitter resentment, "He learned from me for a few days."

Fan Xian smiled slightly. He understood how Seventh Ye felt. After the Ye family collapsed, the 23 old shopkeepers were captured from various places by the court and put under house arrest in Jingdou. As for their disciples, some died when they resisted and some struggled at death's door. These were all choices made by themselves when facing imminent catastrophe. No one blamed them. However, for people like the Second master who had climbed to a high position, his behavior back then must have been particularly vile.

Hearing the Second master call out the word "master," the master of the Third Workshop who had been silent this entire time seemed to have been struck by lightning. His entire person froze. He stared at the four old men sitting beside the imperial envoy, completely unable to believe his own ears.

Those of the Ye family among the treasurers confirmed the identity of the four people. Scared and surprised, some of the people who still had old memories stepped forward. With surprise, joy, and fear, they knelt before the four old shopkeepers.

"Fourth Master."

"Twelfth uncle, I'm Zhuangzi."

"Greetings, shopkeeper. I was a shop assistant doing odd jobs in the Chuzhou branch."

Although most of the treasurers had no connection to the four shopkeepers, the family reunion was already well under way.

Fan Xian put on a severe face and said coldly, "You can reunite in a moment." Although his expression was not happy, his heart felt much more secure. With the 13 traitors as deputy masters, and these old shopkeepers' prestige still remaining, his plans to change the palace treasury should proceed fairly smoothly.

Seeing each other again after 20 years, the atmosphere in the workshop became emotional. This kind of emotil perfectly lightened the previous nervousness. It was only the officials who were feeling ill at ease, and some of the Xinyang figures quietly laughing coldly. If the news of the sight before them traveled to Jingdou, the Emperor would probably have objections against Fan Xian.

The Second master knelt with his head on the floor and felt a slight comfort in his heart. Looking at how things were, at most he would suffer some punishments. In a while he would do his utmost to acknowledge his mistakes. For the sake of the old Ye family, the imperial envoy would probably not trouble him further.

He slide his eyes to the side and glanced at master Xiao's body by the opening of the furnace and felt a lingering well. Fortunately, Xiao Jing had stuck his head out first. He also felt some sympathy for the bastard, thinking, those who were not connected to the Ye family surely died bluntly under the imperial envoy's hand.

Outside of everyone's expectations, after Fan Xian had sent back those treasurers, a shallow smile floated on his face and he said, "Drag this man away and behead him."

"Yes, Sir."

The Second master raised his head and looked around with confusion in his eyes. He didn't at once comprehend who else they wanted to behead. Shouldn't things just be ending like this?

Not until he was dragged up by the officials of the Overwatch Council, did he then realize the imperial envoy was still going to kill him. He had wanted to open his mouth to cry out a grievance but found a clump of mud blocking his mouth.

They watched the Overwatch Council officials dragging the limp master out of the workshop and saw a streak of water on the ground. Regardless of officials or commoners, shopkeepers or treasurers, all in the workshop became deathly silent. They all moved their gazes to the imperial envoy sitting in the middle.

Fan Xian's head was slightly lowered. It was like he could not feel the countless gazes.

From outside of the workshop came the muffled sound of a metal tool chopping into a fleshy neck, as well as a muffled groan.

The workshop exploded into a clamor and then abruptly sank into deathly silence again. Everyone knew that the master of the Second Workshop had just died.

…

…

It wasn't silent for long. The Third master, with his hands tied behind his back, laughed self-deprecatingly. His face was deathly pale with hopelessness, and he very consciously walked to stand in front of Fan Xian.

He speculated that he was completely out of luck. Since the imperial envoy was using the excuse of suppressing the strikes, naturally, he would not be stupid enough to open the court and try the case; he also didn't need any evidence. He must kill the three of them on site to establish his power. It was only in this way the four old shopkeepers would be able to gain control of the technical people in the palace treasury—of the three masters two had already died, and he was the third.

Fan Xian glanced at him and slightly frowned.

The Third master gazed at him and clenched his teeth for a while before suddenly saying, "I have chosen my own path of death. I do not resent Sir for digging this grave for me to jump in, but before I die, I beg that you let me ask about something."

Fan Xian's brow rose and he said, "Ask."

The Third master did not look at him, instead he turned his head and gazed at the Ye family's twelfth shopkeeper beside him. His lip trembled for a while before he shakily asked, "Twelfth uncle, my master…how is he in the capital? I am not filial. I have not shown filial respect these years."

"You are?" Twelfth Ye blinked his slightly murky eyes and looked at this master with suspicion.

Seventh Ye let out a breath and said from the side, "Thirteenth's head disciple. You were the closest to Twelfth back in the day, so he is asking you."

Twelfth Ye was greatly surprised. "Hu Jinlin? You're still alive? We all thought you died back then." The old shopkeeper suddenly remembered he was surrounded by court officials. These words were not quite right, and he quickly shut his mouth.

Hu Jinlin's face was full of shame. He lowered his head and wouldn't speak.

Twelfth Ye sighed and said, "Back then the mistress said living was always better than being dead. Us, old bones, struggled at death's door. How could we blame you…only, you ask about Thirteenth…ah." The shopkeeper shook his head and said, "He passed a few years ago. Of the 23 of us that entered the capital, there are only 15 left."

Hearing that his master had passed away, Hu Jinlin forgot he was also about to die and a great sorrow washed over his face. Fan Xian listened quietly. There were also some strange emotions in his heart. The old people of the Ye family had gradually been worn away by the wind and rain. The year when he had first entered Jingdou, there were still 17 of the 23 shopkeepers, and now, not even two years later, two more had died.

He gazed around at the materials piled inside this workshop and his attention drifted. If time flowed like water, when would he be able to finally rebuild the Ye family name? When would he be able to kill those who deserved to die and have those who deserved to life live anew in the hearts of the people of the Qing Kingdom?

It was only a short amount of time before he came to again. Looking at the Third master in front of him, he sneered, "Although I don't know if you are putting on a show or truly still hold old emotions, I had never intended to kill you. So don't think you are able to live because my heart is soft."

"Huh?" Hu Jinlin thought he was certain to die. After his fellow masters' wretched deaths, he had not a strand of hope. Suddenly hearing these words, he was too shocked to know what to say.

Fan Xian said, without any expression, "Those who are guilty will be beheaded, those whose crimes are small are to be forgiven. I am not here to resolve old grudges."

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