Volume One: The Overseer and the Scholar Chapter Fifty-Two: A Promise Sealed with Words

“How much?”
Qi Changfeng’s eyes widened as he stared intently at Huang Ming.

The intensity of his gaze made Huang Ming a little uneasy, and he hurried to explain, “Twenty taels a month. Of course, that’s just for now—we can discuss more in the future.

“And, if you truly have the talent, when the opportunity arises, I will try to help you return to the army, so you may pursue a real career.”

This time, he was offering genuine sincerity, withholding nothing as one might in ordinary business negotiations.

After all, Qi Changfeng was exactly the sort of man he desired—upright, unafraid of authority, and, having earned his rank in Datong through military merit, obviously skilled in martial arts as well.

A man of such caliber required a commensurate reward to be truly moved.

Truthfully, Qi Changfeng was already tempted. His reaction was not so much a loss of composure as astonishment at the generosity of the monthly salary. When he had served as a squad leader in Datong, his monthly take-home pay had been a mere three to five taels of silver.

Even then, it was often delayed or docked for one reason or another, or simply withheld by his superiors, sometimes for months on end... This was precisely why he found himself in such dire straits now.

But now, in a single month, he could earn what had taken him half a year before. How could he not be pleased, even eager to accept at once?

Yet Huang Ming’s latter promise planted a seed of doubt in his heart: “Are you serious? Can you really offer me a chance to return to the army?”

“At the very least, it’s worth a try,” Huang Ming replied, unable to make an absolute guarantee.

But even this was enough to surprise the other man. After regarding him for a moment, Qi Changfeng solemnly asked, “By the way, I still don’t know exactly who you are.”

“My apologies; I was so focused on learning about you I neglected to introduce myself.” Huang Ming smiled, a trace of anxiety in his heart.

Still, he answered truthfully: “My name is Huang Ming. I am currently a student at the Imperial Academy. As for my father, he serves as a court eunuch…”

As he spoke, he watched Qi Changfeng’s expression closely and saw, as expected, a subtle change in the man’s demeanor.

Being the son of a eunuch had indeed brought Huang Ming many advantages, but it also had its drawbacks. At least in public, such an identity was hardly something to be proud of, and it was difficult to win others’ approval.

Only the likes of Xu Qingzhi and Zhang Han, sons of lesser noble lines, would not look down on him for it. For they alone understood the true influence wielded by the emperor’s favored eunuchs, and their own status was not so much higher than Huang Ming’s.

Under Huang Ming’s slightly anxious gaze, Qi Changfeng soon composed himself. “So that’s how it is. Young Master Huang, if you truly mean to fulfill the promises you just made, I, Qi Changfeng, will gladly follow you and safeguard your safety.

“As long as I draw breath, no one shall harm you in the slightest!”

“Then it’s settled!” Huang Ming exclaimed joyfully, immediately reaching for the small clay wine jar to pour them both a celebratory drink.

But lifting the jar, he found it was already empty.

It turned out that as he had recounted his own misfortunes, Qi Changfeng’s cup had never been idle; he had finished the entire two or three jin of wine.

Huang Ming didn’t mind. He laughed heartily and called out, “Waiter! More wine—bring the good stuff!”

…

By the time Huang Ming returned home, he himself was already six or seven-tenths drunk.

Qi Changfeng, on the other hand, though he had drunk a jar and a half, showed nothing but a flushed face—no other signs of drunkenness.

On the way back, he even sat up front beside the driver, Huang An, who was himself a bit tipsy, and helped guide the carriage smoothly home. Then he lent a hand to steady the staggering Huang Ming.

Once steady, Huang Ming nodded to him, then turned to Huang Zhong, who had come out to greet them. “Uncle Zhong, have someone tidy up the east wing next to my quarters. From now on, Brother Qi—”

“Young Master, please just call me Qi Changfeng.” He knew full well the propriety between master and subordinate; such titles were inappropriate.

Huang Ming did not insist. After all, this was not the modern era—there was no notion of equality for all in the Ming Dynasty. “From now on, Qi Changfeng will live there. He will be my personal bodyguard, and there’s no need to keep household matters from him.”

Huang Zhong scrutinized Qi Changfeng for a moment, then nodded in assent. “Yes, young master. Anything else?”

“Have some water and sobering soup sent over,” Huang Ming said casually, before heading toward his own quarters with Yu Mo. “Qi Changfeng, settle in for now—the money can be collected from the accounts office tomorrow.”

Qi Changfeng was moved by Huang Ming’s straightforwardness and agreed readily before taking his leave.

His own belongings were still outside the city, so he wanted to make the trip while it was still early, that he might return soon and settle into the Huang household, at least for the time being, as a bodyguard.

The subsequent arrangements made it clear how much authority Huang Ming now wielded in the household. With only a few words, both Huang Zhong and the other servants hurried to prepare the east wing, so it was ready for its new occupant without delay.

Even when Qi Changfeng returned at dusk, he needed no introduction; he was brought straight to the courtyard and shown to his room.

Before, Huang Ming’s authority had depended on Huang Jin’s explicit instructions. But now, after several incidents, he was already half the true master of the household.

No one dared dismiss him because of his youth, let alone show him any disrespect.

His orders now carried the same weight as Huang Jin’s. If he brought home one or even ten new people, the servants could only comply.

To Qi Changfeng, this inspired even greater respect for Huang Ming. After he had put away his belongings and inspected his new quarters, he made a point of seeking out Huang Ming to formally acknowledge his allegiance.

By now, most of Huang Ming’s drunkenness had dissipated. He was in the study, practicing calligraphy.

In recent days, he had devoted himself to two things: reading more books, to accustom himself to the vertical, right-to-left, unpunctuated texts of the era; and practicing with the brush.

Seeing Qi Changfeng salute at the door, Huang Ming finished his character, set down the brush, and invited him in with a smile. “So, what do you think? Is your new room satisfactory?”

“It’s excellent—far better than I expected. Compared to the rundown place I rented outside the city, or even my quarters in Datong, it’s no contest. Frankly, I’m a little ashamed to have received so many benefits from you without having done anything yet.”

“Haha, there’s no need to feel that way. I didn’t hire you to risk your life for me. If we can live in peace, without trouble or upheaval, that is precisely what I hope for.”

“Yes, I understand. Prevention is better than cure, as they say.”

“Exactly. It’ll soon be time for dinner—why don’t you stay and eat with me here?”

Qi Changfeng accepted without hesitation, then added, “Actually, I have a question, if I may be so bold.”

“Speak.”

“Why did you suddenly decide to hire a bodyguard like me?”