Chen Ji turned and watched Zhang Zhuo’s figure disappear through the city gate.
When he looked up, he saw dark clouds in the sky covering the moon.
Lu Jin.
That uncle he had never met in person had always been like a huge shadow—ungraspable, inscrutable.
This was why Chen Ji would rather go overseas than return to Jing Dynasty.
He had seen Lu Jin fall from power and then rise again, step by step reaching the highest position in Jing Dynasty as Deputy Chief of the Privy Council.
Now, with Chief Privy Councilor Yuan Cheng caught alive in Lushun Harbor, could it have been the work of Lu Jin?
Chen Ji had no way of knowing.
Xiao Man raised her hand and waved it in front of his eyes. “Young master?”
Chen Ji snapped out of his thoughts and strode toward the right street of the mansion.
Xiao Man, holding the little black cat, hurried after him, “Young master, where are you going?”
Chen Ji said somberly, “Back to the Chen family.”
Xiao Man followed him along Chang’an Street, worry showing in her voice, “Young master, are we really going back to the Chen family? The second branch wants to kill you, and this time you’ve gone against the family head. You’ve offended both the main and second branches. If you go back today, those people will make trouble again at the Scholar’s Courage Hall with that so-called ‘Three Departments Joint Review.’ It’s better not to go.”
Chen Ji didn’t answer, only quickened his pace.
Xiao Man kept walking alongside and continued, “I went to check the houses these past few days. Not far from the Zhang family, there’s a small house on sale at the pawnshop, only fourteen hundred taels of silver. Two courtyards deep, new bricks and tiles, the beams and woodwork all high-quality material...”
Chen Ji glanced at her. “We only have fourteen hundred taels, so a two-courtyard house on Xuanwu Gate Street costs exactly fourteen hundred taels? Who’s so kind? Zhang Zhuo, Lord Zhang, or your second sister?”
