Chapter 14: Bullying with Backing (Combined)

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Emerging from his father’s study, Zhao Yi clenched the heavy bunch of keys in his hand, a victorious smile playing on his lips. Whistling cheerfully, he swaggered toward the accounting office, fully aware of the murderous glare his father, Zhao Zhao, was casting from behind.

Once he had the money in hand, Zhao Yi immediately summoned the two brothers, Li Jin and Li Yin.

“I’ve got a job for you two,” he said, slapping a freshly withdrawn hundred-tael silver note onto Li Jin’s chest. “Take this money and go outside the city to find me two kinds of things.”

“One is a pale stone that crumbles at a touch.”

“The other is sticky mud—the stickier, the better.”

Li Jin and Li Yin exchanged confused looks.

“Young General, what do you want these for? Building a house with mud?”

“Don’t ask so many questions,” Zhao Yi waved them off impatiently.

“Find the materials, then find a remote spot—no, a godforsaken place, the more secluded the better. Dig a kiln and wait for me there. Got it?”

“Got it!” The brothers, though puzzled, took the money and scampered off happily.

After sending off his two little errand boys, Zhao Yi stretched luxuriously, feeling completely at ease. Work was never as important as enjoying oneself.

“Let’s go listen to some music!”

...

The most famous establishment in the capital was the “Hundred Pleasures Pavilion.” Zhao Yi secured a private seat on the second floor, ordered a pot of fine tea and several delicate snacks, and closed his eyes slightly, listening to the girl on the stage below sing a soft melody.

And, to be honest, the singing girl was truly stunning.

Her slender waist moved like a water snake.

Her voice was smooth and sweet, tickling one’s heartstrings.

Zhao Yi was utterly enchanted, tapping his thigh rhythmically with the music.

One word: superb!

As the song ended, night had fallen. Zhao Yi returned to the Zhao residence, contented.

Li Jin and Li Yin were not back yet—probably still playing in some muddy ravine.

He didn’t care either, gorged himself alone, then collapsed into bed.

The night was uneventful.

The next morning.

At the first light of dawn, Zhao Yi was still lost in dreams, drinking flower wine with the daughter of the God of Sleep.

“Slap!”

A sharp sound rang out.

He felt a burning pain across his face as a slap jolted him upright in bed.

Damn!

Who dared to—

His fury was about to erupt when he opened his eyes to see his father, Zhao Zhao, standing by the bedside with a dark expression, his hand still raised in the slapping gesture.

Zhao Yi’s “damn it” twisted instantly into a flattering smile.

“Father! Good morning! Why are you up so early? Did you sleep well last night?”

Zhao Zhao’s face darkened further.

“Do I look like I slept well? I woke up several times last night, worried you’d blow those twenty thousand taels on wine!”

“Get up! The Emperor is waiting to see your materials! And you’re still sleeping?”

Zhao Yi scrambled out of bed in a hurry, hurriedly dressing.

“Don’t worry, Father, everything is arranged!”

Just as he finished washing, Li Jin and Li Yin stumbled in, faces dark with exhaustion and covered in mud.

“Young General! We found them!” They proudly presented several pieces of white stone and a lump of clay wrapped in oiled paper.

Zhao Yi took them, squeezed the stone in his hand, then sniffed it.

Limestone.

Clay.

No problem.

“Well done,” he nodded with satisfaction.

“Store these properly and take some men to the spot you found. Get that kiln fired up.”

“Yes, sir!”

“I’ll go to the Ministry of Works and bring over some skilled craftsmen.”

He changed into a brand-new official uniform and marched confidently toward the Ministry of Works.

But reality was far less ideal.

Inside the Ministry, a group of slick old officials were gathered, drinking tea and chatting idly.

To them, Zhao Yi, a sixth-rank assistant officer in the Ministry of War, was nothing.

He announced his identity and purpose, but no one paid him any mind.

An old clerk barely lifted his eyelids and sipped his tea lazily.

“Oh, Minister Zhao,” he drawled. “No hurry on this matter. Our Minister is unwell today; you should come back some other day.”

Zhao Yi’s face darkened instantly.

Was he here to mourn his father? Come back another day?

Anger boiled up in him. Talking to these old foxes was a waste of breath.

Without another word, Zhao Yi turned and left.

He strode out of the Ministry gates, heading straight for one place.

The Imperial Palace.

To lodge a complaint.

...

Imperial Study.

When Eunuch Gui led Zhao Yi inside, his expression was priceless.

He couldn’t understand how this Young General Zhao treated the palace like his own backyard, coming here eight times a day.

The Empress Wu Mingkong was bent over reviewing memorials, and without looking up, asked with weary resignation, “What now?”

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Upon hearing those words, all the frustration Zhao Yi had been holding back burst forth.

He collapsed to his knees with a loud thud, no support needed.

“Your Majesty! I... I can’t do this anymore!”

He bawled uncontrollably, tears and snot flowing.

“I want to ease your burdens, to build an iron wall for Great Zhou, but... they won’t cooperate!”

“The old fogies at the Ministry of Works bully me. They say my rank is too low and treat me like dirt! They pay lip service but utterly ignore your edict!”

The Empress was stunned by his sudden spectacle; the vermilion brush in her hand halted mid-air.

She looked down at the pitiful figure rolling on the floor and scowled.

“Your Majesty, you must rule on this for me! Grant me an imperial decree! Otherwise, I really can’t produce this cement!”

The Empress rubbed her aching temples.

She finally understood: this scoundrel was a master of theatrics, needing real power before he'd stop pestering her with daily dramas.

“Enough,” she snapped irritably. “I approve.”

“Gui Banban, draft the decree.”

She paused, her phoenix-like eyes gleaming with a mischievous, even dangerous, hint.

“But I must warn you,” she said slowly, “I want to see results within one month.”

“If I don’t see results...” She dragged out the tone, a cruel smile curling her lips.

“You won’t be an assistant officer anymore.”

“You’ll come serve me personally, as my most trusted aide.”

Damn it!

Zhao Yi cursed inwardly eight hundred times.

This bitch still cared about pampering and boosting him.

Truly despicable!

Though cursing inside, Zhao Yi outwardly wore a look of deep gratitude, banging his head on the floor with a “bang bang” sound.

“Thank you for your Majesty’s gracious favor! I will serve wholeheartedly until death!”

He peeked up at the Empress on the dragon throne.

Tsk.

Today’s outfit was wrapped so tightly, not a seam to be seen.

Poor show!

Soon, Eunuch Gui handed him a bright yellow imperial edict.

Zhao Yi took the decree like it was a royal sword, his entire demeanor transformed.

He leapt up with a bow to the Empress and then strode out, looking like he was about to conduct a raid.

Holding the decree with pride, he stormed back to the Ministry of Works.

...

Ministry of Works.

Zhao Yi returned within half an hour.

This time he didn’t even enter quietly.

“Bang!”

With a mighty kick, he flung open the heavy wooden doors of the Ministry’s gate.

The door hinges groaned under the strain, the entire frame shaking.

Officials inside, startled by the sudden noise, dropped their tea cups in panic.

“Who dares make a scene in the Ministry of Works!”

The old clerk who had been harassing Zhao Yi jumped up first, pointing angrily.

But upon recognizing Zhao Yi, his anger instantly twisted to mockery.

“Oh, look who’s back again, Minister Zhao.”

“What’s wrong? No place to go, come begging here again?”

Laughter broke out among the officials.

Zhao Yi ignored them, holding the yellow decree like a weapon, and swaggered inside.

He stopped before the old clerk, towering over him, a cold smile creeping across his lips.

“Old dog, what did you just say? The wind was too loud—I couldn’t hear you clearly.”

The old clerk shivered under that gaze but, relying on the Ministry being his turf, still held his ground.

“I said...”

“Slap!”

A sharp smack echoed as Zhao Yi’s hand struck the old clerk’s face, spinning him around.

He collapsed to the floor, eyes spinning, half his face swelling visibly.

“You... you dare hit me?!”

The entire Ministry fell silent, stunned by the unexpected slap.

At that moment, a portly middle-aged man wearing the Minister of Works’ uniform stormed out of the back hall, flanked by officials, face dark with rage.

“Outrageous!”

Minister Sun Decai pointed at Zhao Yi, trembling with fury.

“Zhao Yi! What is your rank that you dare to assault someone in my Ministry? Guards! Seize him!”

As the guards stepped forward, Zhao Yi sneered and flung the imperial edict directly into Sun Decai’s face.

“Seize me?”

“Minister Sun, you’re quite full of yourself!”

“Open your dog eyes and look at this!”

Sun Decai instinctively caught the decree; the bright yellow paper embroidered with a coiled dragon hurt his eyes.

His trembling hands slowly unfolded the edict.

All the officials craned their necks.

“‘By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: Assistant Officer Zhao Yi is hereby granted full authority to oversee all matters concerning cement. The Ministry of Works must fully cooperate and meet all requests. Any neglect or evasion will be punished as defiance of imperial orders. So be it!’”

Sun Decai read every word, cold sweat pouring down his forehead.

When he finished, his legs gave out and he knelt on the spot.

“I... I accept the decree!”

Following his lead, the once arrogant officials dropped to their knees, heads bowed low, afraid even to breathe.

Zhao Yi approached Sun Decai and kicked him lightly in the shoulder.

“Minister Sun, can I now deploy your men?”

“Yes... yes! Minister Zhao, say the word—who do you want?”

“Arrest him,” Zhao Yi pointed at the dazed old clerk on the floor. “Thirty lashes first!”

“Mercy, Minister Zhao!” The old clerk begged desperately, crawling away.

“Too late.”

Zhao Yi didn’t even look at him, turning to Sun Decai with a cold command.

“Pick the best craftsmen in the Ministry—those sharp minds who get things done. Don’t send me any deadbeats.”

“Yes, yes! I’ll handle it right away!”

Sun Decai scrambled to his feet and went to the workshop yard to select men.

Soon, he returned with seven or eight bewildered-looking craftsmen dressed in work clothes.

The leader was a man in his forties, dark-skinned with callused hands.

“Minister Zhao, this is Zhang Tou, our best craftsman. You take a look.”

Zhao Yi assessed Zhang Tou briefly and nodded.

“Good. It’s them.”

Turning to the craftsmen, he smiled warmly.

“From today on, you’ll work for me. I’m Zhao Yi.”

“There’s only one rule: do the job well, and you’ll be paid handsomely.”

He pulled a stack of silver notes from his pocket and handed a hundred-tael note to Zhang Tou.

“This is a deposit.”

“At my place, you eat well, sleep well, and get daily wages.”

Zhao Yi swept the group with an inspiring gaze.

“When we make this cement, everyone here gets fifty taels as a bonus!”

Fifty taels!

The craftsmen’s breaths quickened, their eyes gleaming greedily.

Fifty taels could support them for years!

“Young General, you have our word! We’ll do a perfect job!”

Zhao Yi nodded in satisfaction, then, accompanied by Li Jin, Li Yin, and the pumped-up craftsmen, he triumphantly left the Ministry.

Behind them, Sun Decai and the officials knelt in the dust, staring helplessly at the ruined gate.

...

Outside the city, in the godforsaken mountain hollow Li Jin and Li Yin had found, a freshly dug kiln was billowing black smoke.

Zhao Yi roughly explained the scattered knowledge he’d gleaned about cement.

“Basically, limestone and clay, ground to powder, mixed in a certain ratio, then burned hard in the kiln.”

“I can’t recall the exact proportions,” he shrugged, playing the indifferent boss.

“Zhang Tou, this is your project.”

“You all try different mixes. We have plenty of raw materials, so don’t worry about wasting them.”

“I just want results; you figure out the process.”

Though somewhat confused, Zhang Tou nodded firmly when he saw the heavy silver notes in hand.

“Don’t worry, Young General. We’ll do our best!”

“That’s what I like to hear!”

Zhao Yi dusted his hands off, feeling life was as lonely as falling snow.

With everything arranged and the serious work done, it was time for some personal indulgence.

“Li Jin, Li Yin, keep an eye on this place. If anything comes up, come find me at the residence.”

“Let’s go listen to some music!”

...

Back at the Hundred Pleasures Pavilion.

The same private seat, the same pot of fine tea.

Today’s storyteller was recounting the romantic escapades of the previous dynasty.

Zhao Yi nearly dozed off until the star courtesan appeared.

A new girl today, wearing a long aqua-green gown, with exquisite features and a seductive figure.

Especially her chest, pressing fully against her tightly drawn bodice.

Quite a handful.

And her voice! Sweet and sultry, it melted Zhao Yi’s bones.

After the song, satisfied, he tossed down a silver ingot, belched, and staggered out of the pavilion.

Night had fallen, the moon hanging among the willows.

As he stepped outside, about to board his carriage, he froze.

Not far away at the street corner stood his father, Zhao Zhao, dressed casually, face dark, staring fixedly at him.

His gaze was so cold it seemed to drip with malice.

Zhao Yi could feel a chilling murderous aura closing in from all directions.

It was over.

He was done for.

Zhao Zhao said nothing, only gave him a cold glance before turning and stepping into their carriage, heading straight home.

Zhao Yi read the meaning in that look:

Damn it, there are too many people outside; I’ll save you some face.

But when we get home, you’re going to get beaten!

Zhao Yi stood frozen, cold sweat pouring down.

With his father’s military background and fiery temper, there was no escaping that beating.

What to do?

Fighting back was impossible—he’d be crippled.

Running? The whole world is the Emperor’s territory—where could he run?

His mind raced, sweat streaming down his temples.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up.

Got it!

He slapped his thigh hard, a sly smile spreading across his face.

Without hesitation, he jumped into the carriage.

“To the residence!”

Moments later, Zhao Yi’s carriage rolled to a stop at the gates of the Zhao mansion.