xymnovel Chapter 21: Guessing the Identity, But Not Exposing It
Chapter 21: Guessing the Identity, But Not Exposing It
Cheng Chumo stood up and stared at the rice paddy in silence for a while.
"How should I address you, sir?" He turned around.
"Wang Zhihuan".
"Brother Wang, my name is Cheng Chumo."
He cupped his hands in greeting, "That's my younger brother, Chu Liang. He's the second oldest in the family. You can just call him Cheng Lao Er."
Cheng Chuliang called out from behind, "My name is Cheng Chuliang! Not Cheng Lao Er!"
Neither of them responded to him.
Upon hearing the name "Cheng Chumo," Wang Zhihuan remained calm and simply returned the greeting with a cupped hand.
He remembered that historical records mentioned Cheng Yaojin's eldest son was named Cheng Chumo, who later inherited the title of Duke of Lu. According to historical records, he was considered a relatively successful second-generation successor. He was steady and good at maintaining the status quo.
Although he knew their identities, Wang Zhi didn't show it on his face at all, treating them as just ordinary teenagers surnamed Cheng.
They dressed casually, didn't mention their family name, and brought their younger brother to ask for water; that's because they didn't want to put on airs.
It would be pointless if he showed "I know who you are" at this point.
He just smiled to himself. A few days ago it was the Li family, and today it's the "Cheng brothers." His farm seems to be getting more and more lively.
Cheng Chumo mentally reviewed the instructions his father had given him before he left.
Making friends is about making friends; let's not go on about those other things.
But when people are sitting together and the conversation has already reached this point, holding it back would feel unnatural.
He thought for a moment and then spoke: "Brother Wang, I rode all the way here, and the rice in the field in front of your house looks a bit different from the rice in other people's fields."
"Let me ask you, if someone had a piece of land with bad soil, and nothing could grow, what would you do?"
Wang Zhi glanced at him. The question was quite specific, unlike something someone casually chatting while passing by on a spring outing would ask.
But since the other party asked, he answered truthfully, as it was just routine farm work for him.
"First, look at the soil. There are many kinds of soil problems. If it's acidic, sprinkle lime on it; if it's hardened, plow it deeply and mix in sand; if it's very saline or alkaline, wash it with water."
Prescribing medicine without examining the patient is like prescribing medicine without seeing the patient; it's better not to treat the condition at all, it will only make things worse.
Cheng Chumo nodded and didn't ask any further questions.
He finished drinking the water in the bowl, stood up, and placed it on the stone table.
"Brother Wang, I've had a good rest and a drink of water here today, and I even learned how to divide rice stalks. You've taken up a lot of my time. Thank you."
"You're welcome. It's perfectly normal to stop by for a rest. You can always come back next time you pass by. Water is always available."
Cheng Chumo grinned, turned around and shouted towards the chicken coop, "Chuliang! Let's go!"
"Huh? It's gone already? I haven't even seen it lay an egg yet."
"It's not like you're the one laying the egg, so why are you in such a hurry?"
Cheng Chumo grabbed him by the back of the collar and pulled him outside. "Back to the city. If you keep dawdling, Dad will find someone to spar with this afternoon, and I'll throw you onto the field first."
Cheng Chuliang was being pulled by his brother out of the courtyard gate, still muttering about the chicken. When they reached the horse, he suddenly turned around and shouted, "Brother Wang! I'll come to your house again another day to see the chickens lay eggs!"
Wang Zhi was still standing at the gate of the courtyard, watching the two brothers mount their horses one after the other.
The chestnut and black horses flicked their tails, raising a trail of dust on the dirt road, and the sound of their hooves gradually faded into the distance.
He turned and went back into the courtyard. The Merit System popped up a notification.
"[System Prompt]: The host's deeds have benefited all directions, and his reputation has gradually grown, attracting curious visits from the noble sons of Chang'an."
Establish initial contact with Cheng Chumo and Cheng Chuliang of the Duke of Lu's Mansion, merit points +100.
The system has detected a positive interaction between the host and a prominent figure in the current dynasty, expanding the potential influence of the host. The daily natural increase in merit points has slightly increased.
Wang Zhihuan stood in front of the stone table and collected the bowl that Cheng Chumo had just left behind.
One hundred points. That's a significant increase.
The system notification mentioned "the Duke of Lu's Mansion" and "a distinguished nobleman of Chang'an," indicating that Cheng Yaojin holds a significant position in the system, as even his son's visit can trigger additional notifications.
He put the bowl in the basin and rinsed it twice. Cheng Chumo is quite an interesting person.
He came in asking for water, thanked me when he left, we chatted about rice for a bit, and he asked about soil improvement.
He never mentioned his father once, nor did he imply that he was from the Duke of Lu's mansion.
But the question asked, "The soil isn't very good, and nothing you plant will grow. What would you do?" clearly came from someone with a real problem in mind.
Forget it. If they don't mention it, he'll just treat them as someone who's just passing through and taking a break.
Anyway, since I met Si Zi, dealing with the noble families in Chang'an has been an expected thing, so I just take it in stride.
He placed the washed bowl upside down on the cutting board and wiped his hands with a cloth.
A sparrow chirped twice in the jujube tree outside the window. Sunlight cast the shadows of the leaves onto the windowsill, and the shadows swayed in the wind.
On horseback, Cheng Chuliang couldn't hold it in halfway through the journey.
"Brother, do you know that Brother Wang?"
"We just met today."
"You chatted with them like you'd known them for years. You don't usually act like that with the people from the Ministry of War."
Cheng Chumo remained silent as he rode his horse. His mind was still racing with the image of the rice stalk that had split into six branches. Not just one or two, but the entire field.
When the wind blows, the rice paddies ripple all the way to the foot of the mountain, so dense that the ground is completely obscured.
He had seen fields in Guanzhong, both good and bad, but he had never seen rice grow like that.
And then there's Wang Zhihuan.
This person never asked him which family he was from, nor did he inquire about his father.
He asked what his name was, and the man said his name was Wang Zhihuan. He asked about the land reclamation project, and the man said to first examine the land, and then address the specific problems.
When he said goodbye, the man said that if he passed by again, there would always be water available. This wasn't just polite talk; it was the kind of tone that indicated he would still give you water if you actually passed by again.
"elder brother?"
"It's alright." Cheng Chumo nudged the horse's belly. "Go back and tell Dad that the spring outing went well today."
Cheng Chuliang rolled his eyes from behind: "What kind of spring outing is this? All we got from beginning to end was a bowl of water. We didn't even get a pancake."
"All you care about is food."
"Then you're just eyeing other people's rice! I saw it all; you were squatting there staring so intently your eyes practically popped out!"
Cheng Chumo did not respond.
He rode his chestnut horse ahead, suddenly remembering what his father had said after lifting the stone weight that day: "Making friends is making friends."
But the kind of friends you make determines what kind of things you see.
The Duke of Lu's Mansion.
Cheng Yaojin was sitting in the courtyard gnawing on a lamb leg.
The lamb leg was roasted until it was crispy and glistening with oil. He held the bone in one hand and a bowl of wine in the other. He would take a bite of meat and a sip of wine, not bothering to wipe the oil dripping down his chin.
On the stone table next to them was a large plate with half a roasted lamb still inside, its oil sizzling.
When Cheng Chumo came in, his father was cutting meat with a knife, his knife skills were even smoother than when he was wielding a spear.
"father."
"Hmm." Cheng Yaojin stuffed a piece of meat into his mouth, chewed it a couple of times, and then asked, "Did it go?"
"I've gone."