Legend of The Young Master

Chapter 36: Arrival

Upon their approach, Baron Qingzhu dispatched ceremonial guards to welcome them. This led to a brief interruption as diplomatic formalities were exchanged with Jianyu's people. Wuyi had seen traditions like these before in the fort.

There were thousands of meaningless traditions that nobles followed, which often bored or irritated the common folks who were part of it, especially in situations like this. For example, here, the unnecessary delay irritated every member of Jianyu's entourage, except the guards.

"It's like watching two dogs investigating each other's rears," one of the attendants behind Wuyi commented with a tinge of bitterness.

Raising himself on his stirrups for a better view, Wuyi reluctantly found himself in agreement with the observation. Eventually, the ceremonial gestures concluded, and they resumed their trek, now navigating the bustling avenues of Jingwan itself.

They trotted through the lanes of Jingwan, at the rear of Jianyu's entourage, as they entered the compound of Jingwan's Seaguarding Fort. The fort was erected on a plateau that offered minimal natural protection but compensated with a labyrinth of walls and trenches. An invader would have to cross these hurdles before even getting close to the formidable stone barricades of the fort.

Qian, one of the beast handlers with Wuyi, informed them that no marauder had ever made it beyond the second trench, a claim Wuyi found easy to believe. Laborers, busy with repairs on these defenses, paused to marvel as the luxurious procession of the Luyao clan made its entrance into the Seaguarding Fort.

As the fort gates secured behind them, another drawn-out greeting ritual commenced. They stood under the blazing noon sun as the courtesies between Qingzhu and Seaguarding Fort and Jianyu unfolded. The sound of gongs reverberated, followed by official edicts, all muted by the shuffling of men and horses. Finally, it came to an end, signaled by a collective dispersal of troops and livestock.

Dismounting, they were immediately greeted by Qingzhu's grooms and attendants, who guided them to water sources for their animals, resting places for the night. Wuyi followed Qian as they guided Suti and his pony towards the stable area. Amid the hustle, he heard his name being called.

He turned to see Sig, one of the main guards from Lujingbao Fort who was also part of the procession , singling him out to someone garbed in Qingzhu's livery.

"There he is, Wuyi! Hey, Wuyi, Shao says you have been summoned. Jianyu requests his presence; his pet Linghu isn't feeling well. Qian, could you escort Suti for Wuyi?"

Wuyi had thought that after the lengthy process, he'd be able to eat, but it seemed he had to attend to the young master first. Taking a deep breath, he wore a smile and greeted Shao, as Boluo had advised him about etiquette. Shao led him to Jianyu's quarters and departed, evidently glad to be finished with his duties . Wuyi knocked gently, and immediately, Jianyu's attendant opened the door.

"Oh! Thank heavens, it's you. Get inside. Linghu won't eat, and Jianyu is concerned. Hurry, Wuyi."

The attendant wore the Luyao clan emblem but wasn't someone Wuyi recognized. It often unsettled him how many people knew him, while he had no clue who they were. But he was the infamous Yuanjing bastard.

In a connected room, the young master was making a racket, instructing someone about his evening attire. However, Wuyi's primary concern was Linghu, his pet mountain hound.

He projected a statue of harmony and directed energy toward Linghu. Linghu lifted his skeletal head and looked at Wuyi with weary eyes. He lay sprawled on Jianyu's ground near an unlit brazier. Wuyi sensed that the hound was overheated; the harsh summer was taking a toll on the poor mountain hound, who was not adapted to such conditions.

Linghu was also bored and yearned to return home if there was to be no hunting.

After understanding Linghu's issues, Wuyi theatrically examined him, lifting his lips to check his gums and then firmly pressing his hand on his abdomen. He concluded this by scratching behind Linghu's ears and informed Jianyu's attendant, "He's fine, just not in the mood to eat. Let's offer him some cold water for now. When he's ready to eat, he'll let us know.

Also, let's remove all this food before it spoils in the heat and makes him genuinely ill." He pointed to a plate piled high with food scraps intended for Linghu. Although not suitable for a mountain hound, the sight made Wuyi's own stomach yearn for food. "I wonder if the kitchen has any bone for him? Right now, he'd appreciate something more like a toy than food."

After ensuring Linghu was comfortable, the attendant ushered Wuyi to another pavilion. "Wuyi, you are to prepare for tonight's feast. You'll serve as one of the acting attendants." And so began his transformation. The shift from stable boy to noble attendant was remarkable. Dressed in finer garments befitting an attendant to Jianyu, Wuyi was taken aback by his own reflection.

His attire was a far cry from the daily grime of stable work. He looked genuinely handsome and promised himself that if he ever escaped poverty, he would dress well.

After preparations were done, the entourage was ready to depart for the feast. Jianyu, just twenty years old, was already shouldering the responsibilities of the Luyao clan. Walking three steps behind and to the left of him, Wuyi followed him down the grand hallway. Members of their entourage emerged from their rooms, each dressed in extravagant attire.

Wuyi's outfit was modest compared to the ostentatious garb some others wore. Thankfully, his shoes lacked unnecessary adornments like tiny bells or softly clinking amber beads.

They reached the top of an ornate stairway, and a hush fell over the gathered commoners below. Faces turned upward toward the young master of the Luyao clan, each expression revealing a tale of emotion—envy, love, disdain, fear, and even hatred. Jianyu, however, offered them only fleeting glances before beginning his descent.

As they descended, the crowd parted, and there stood Lord Qingzhu, ready to lead them into the banquet hall. Contrary to the foppish image Wuyi had heard, Qingzhu looked weathered, his aging visage thinly veiled by his opulent attire. His graying hair was tied back, and he moved with the purposeful grace of a skilled swordsman.