Chapter 013: The Wicked Servant

Wei Ba’s brows furrowed. He had heard before that the Wei family’s chief steward, Zhang Ping, had come as a dowry servant with Lady Zhang. Naturally, he had taken the position of chief steward in the household. Usually, he was known to abuse his authority, bullying the other concubines and their children. Wei Ba’s father, Wei Yan, was often preoccupied with military matters and had neither the time nor the inclination to manage such domestic affairs. In his eyes, concubines were not on the same level as the legitimate wife, and some bullying was nothing to fuss over, so long as it wasn’t excessive.

Because of this, everyone in the Wei household held a measure of fear for the chief steward. Even Wei Wu, who was robust and sometimes dared to act spoiled in front of their father, could only swallow his pride when facing Zhang Ping. As for the always frail Wei Ba, it went without saying.

But today’s Wei Ba was no longer the same. He was unwilling to let this affront pass. To borrow a certain postman’s words: since when could a tenant treat the landlord this way?

Wei Ba approached with an impassive expression, pretending not to notice the provocation in Zhang Ping’s words. In a calm voice, he asked Steward Chen, “Did you explain everything clearly just now?”

Seeing Wei Ba’s demeanor, Zhang Ping lifted his head even higher, so much so that his fleshy jowls were visible despite Wei Ba being half a head taller than he. Steward Chen, on the other hand, bowed even lower, his chin nearly touching his chest. According to their experience, even if Wei Ba had a temper, he would only dare direct it at Chen, never at Zhang Ping.

Steward Chen replied softly, “I explained.”

“How did you explain? Say it again.” Wei Ba’s brows knitted slightly.

The steward dared not protest and could only repeat what he had just said. Wei Ba listened quietly, then turned to Zhang Ping. “Was that what Steward Chen said? Did he lie?”

Zhang Ping snorted arrogantly, “He wouldn’t dare.”

Wei Ba nodded. “So by your words, can I understand that you comprehended what he said just now?”

“And if I did?” Zhang Ping’s voice, though not loud, lacked the deference of previous days, and he became irritated, raising his voice. “You return and immediately ask for so many people and resources. How could I not question it before—”

Wei Ba raised his hand, cutting him off. His face expressionless, he asked, “Did you report this to Madam?”

Zhang Ping, interrupted mid-sentence and holding his words in, felt his round face flush with discomfort. His eyes grew sharp. “Before understanding your explanation, how could I bother Madam with such a trivial matter?”

“So you haven’t reported to Madam?”

“Of course not.”

Wei Ba took a deep breath, lifting his head slightly, his gaze sharpening. He stared at Zhang Ping, enunciating each word: “Father sent me back overnight from Mianyang to handle this matter, and you think it’s trivial?”

Zhang Ping was taken aback, realizing he had misspoken and given Wei Ba a handle against him. Yet he brushed it off, more irritated by Wei Ba’s attitude. He snorted coldly and didn’t answer.

“I know you came as Madam’s dowry servant, and your position differs from other household staff. But Madam is now the lady of the Wei family; her assets are the Wei family’s, and her servants are likewise the Wei family’s. You are a Wei family servant. When did Wei family servants get to question the master’s orders?”

Zhang Ping was struck dumb, staring at Wei Ba in astonishment, caught completely off guard by this sudden assault. In his memory, Wei Ba had never spoken like this, especially not since entering this courtyard. He wanted to retort but found no words, his mouth opening and closing twice to no effect.

“I may be a concubine’s son, but even so, a son is still a master here. You, a servant, not only fail to show proper respect but act this arrogantly—what kind of rules are those? Why hold your head so high? Will holding it high turn a servant into a master?”

Wei Ba’s voice grew louder, nearly thunderous. “The task I must accomplish concerns the Wei family’s future, concerns my father’s honor. That’s why I rushed back overnight—to save every possible moment. Yet you, a mere servant, have delayed me by half an hour. Let me ask you—who gave you the audacity? If, because of your delay, the Wei family suffers loss, what will you do to answer for it?”

“You… I…” Zhang Ping faltered, tongue-tied, his chubby fingers trembling as he pointed at Wei Ba, involuntarily stepping back.

“You still dare point at me?” Wei Ba sneered, suddenly grabbing that fat finger and twisting it hard. A crisp crack sounded as the finger broke and bent the wrong way. Zhang Ping stared wide-eyed at his deformed finger, gasping, then let out a piercing scream.

Not only he, but even Wei Wu and Steward Chen were stunned by Wei Ba’s violent action, staring at him in shock.

“You dare… you dare…” Zhang Ping, clutching his broken finger, sweat soaking his forehead, refused to back down, screeching, “You dare… ow… ow, my hand…”

“Enough!” The sound of a beaded curtain from above, and a girl of sixteen or seventeen in embroidered clothes emerged. She glanced at Zhang Ping and said sharply, “Quiet.” At her appearance, Zhang Ping immediately shut his mouth, his eyes pitiful like a hound, though when his gaze fell on Wei Ba, it turned instantly venomous.

“Young Master Ba, Madam asks you to come upstairs to speak.”

Wei Ba looked at Zhang Ping with contempt, then climbed the stairs at an unhurried pace. The girl shot him a cold look, swept into the room, and the beaded curtain swayed behind her, as if mocking Wei Ba for overreaching himself. Wei Ba did not enter, but stood before the curtain and bowed deeply. “Wei Ba greets Madam.”

“Why not come in to speak?” The faint outline of a middle-aged woman could be seen within, her voice somewhat detached.

“Father sent me back at once for urgent business. I dare not delay. I’ll speak here and leave as soon as I am done.”

“What is so urgent?” Madam’s tone was calm, untouched by the commotion below, as if oblivious to it.

“It concerns the accounts. The Prime Minister’s army will reach Hanzhong in a month, yet the accounts for each county remain unsettled. Father gathered us brothers and devised a new accounting method, requiring a great number of new ledgers. These must be completed in two days and then distributed for the counties to rewrite.”

There was silence from within. When Madam spoke again, her voice carried a note of unwillingness. “If the matter is so urgent, see to it at once. Huan’er, make the arrangements—whatever Young Master Ba needs in manpower and materials, see there’s no shortage.”

The embroidered girl acknowledged, lifted the beaded curtain, and stepped out. She walked ahead a few steps, but, not hearing Wei Ba follow, turned to look at him in displeasure.

Wei Ba remained motionless, hands clasped in respect at the door. Madam inside noticed and, somewhat surprised, asked, “Why haven’t you gone? Isn’t the matter urgent?”

“Permit me to report, Madam. The matter was indeed urgent, but Steward Zhang has already delayed me by half an hour.” Wei Ba spoke unhurriedly. “To be fair, I can’t blame Steward Zhang. I am merely a concubine’s son and have never managed affairs. It’s only natural he looks down on me. My worry is that if others share his view, it will be hard for me to direct them in the tasks ahead. Thus…”

Wei Ba drew out his words and stopped. The Madam inside gave a cold snort, clearly angry. “Huan’er, deal with this.”

The girl shot Wei Ba a furious glare, then turned and went downstairs. Wei Ba bowed in thanks to Madam, then followed. As he descended, he saw the girl sternly addressing Zhang Ping. “You disrespected Young Master Ba and delayed important work. Go and accept twenty strokes as punishment.”

Zhang Ping stared at her in astonishment. Meeting her eyes, he immediately understood and, clutching his injured hand, turned to leave.

“Wait,” Wei Ba called.

Zhang Ping halted, his gaze burning with hatred as he glared at Wei Ba.

Wei Ba shrugged. Since he had chosen to play the villain, he feared not their anger. After all, they weren’t cultivators of such power that a glare could kill. He walked to Zhang Ping, his tone both sympathetic and apologetic. “If I am to carry out this task, I must assert my authority. Ordinary staff would not suffice; I have no choice but to trouble you, Steward Zhang. This is not personal—I hope you understand.”

Having just had a finger broken, Zhang Ping had no faith in Wei Ba’s words. Yet, since Wei Ba was usually weak, perhaps this had been a moment of impulse, and now he regretted it. Even so, Zhang Ping had no intention of forgiving him—if anything, his desire for revenge grew.

“I fear the others might not be lenient, and twenty strokes could harm you. To spare you, I will administer the punishment myself.” Wei Ba smiled innocently, glanced at his own toes, then looked up, embarrassed. “You know my body is weak, I haven’t much strength—surely it won’t hurt too much.”

Zhang Ping was no fool. Weak or not, a heavy staff in hand would still hurt. If he was to suffer less, it would be better to have his own confidant administer the punishment, or perhaps, out of Wei Ba’s sight, not administer it at all. He had no wish to be beaten by Wei Ba, so as soon as he heard this, he opened his mouth to protest.

The embroidered girl’s eyes flashed as she cut him off. “As Young Master Ba says. Someone, bring a staff.”

Steward Chen quickly fetched a wooden staff and offered it to Wei Ba, giving him a meaningful look. Wei Ba smiled, took the staff, and tilted his head at Zhang Ping. “Come with me.”

“Where?” Zhang Ping looked to the embroidered girl for rescue, voice trembling.

“If this is to establish authority, it must be done before a larger audience. Otherwise, your suffering is wasted.” Wei Ba smiled, “Let’s go to the workshop.”

—Please recommend and add to your collections! In the early days of a new novel, data is crucial—it directly affects future recommendations!