Five Years After My Death, the Mad Emperor Still Summons My Spirit

"Thank goodness you came," Zhang Sifan said as he rushed out of his estate, having just received Ming Chengyu’s invitation.

"Hm?"

Zhang Sifan explained, "My aunt brought my cousins to the estate. I really couldn’t get away from them."

Ming Chengyu gave him a wry look.

Zhang Sifan continued, "My cousins aren’t like your sister. Every single one of them is so chatty. When I’m at the estate, it feels like I’ve stepped into the Bird Garden."

After saying this, Zhang Sifan untied a pouch from his waist and handed it to Ming Chengyu. "This is for you."

Ming Chengyu raised an eyebrow slightly. "Silver?"

"Yup," Zhang Sifan said. "I figured you’re probably not a man who’s short on silver, but my mother said you’ve earned this. She insists you take it. Otherwise, you could just give it to me, hahaha."

Ming Chengyu had originally intended to give it back, but upon hearing Zhang Sifan’s last sentence, he promptly pulled his hand back and hung the money pouch from his waist.

Zhang Sifan was speechless.

His eyes lingered on the pouch at Ming Chengyu’s waist, a look of reluctance on his face.

"But thanks to you, our family’s cloth business alone has multiplied several times over this month. It seems the Xie Mansion still hasn’t chosen who will manage their household affairs. Mr. Xie is probably too busy dealing with his sons and nephews to handle it. Did you hear? Maybe about an hour ago, news came from the physician’s office that Xie Ruiyang will probably never wake up. He’s being kept alive with ginseng soup, and the third branch is raising hell with the first branch." 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

Even when he was at home, Zhang Sifan was always well-informed.

This morning’s incident was a matter of life and death, prompting the Jingzhao Mansion to intervene.

Xie Jupu is a truly ruthless man. After leaving Xinghua Alley, he convened the clan elders and had Xie Ruijing’s name struck from the family records.

"That old man’s move was like pulling the rug out from under him, completely severing Second Brother Xie from the Xie Mansion. In the future, even if people curse Xie Ruijing, it won’t reflect on the Xie Mansion," Zhang Sifan said. "It’s so ruthless. I heard that even though Xie Ruijing was the son of a concubine, he was the son of Xie Jupu’s favorite concubine. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been given control over the household affairs, bypassing the other two branches."

Talk about turning on someone in the blink of an eye.

Xie Ruijing is in prison now. Who knows how he’ll react when he hears the news.

When you become a family outcast, sometimes it’s your own kin who are the quickest blade to end your life.

Ming Chengyu and Zhang Sifan chatted as they walked, and by the time they reached the teahouse, it was already filled with people.

They were all old friends from their days at the Xianyun Liushui Pavilion. Although Ming Chengyu had been back in Shangjing for some time, he had been so busy with the restaurant’s business that he hadn’t managed to find time to see his old friends.

He hadn’t expected that on such short notice, so many people would come.

They were really showing him a great deal of respect.

That evening, Ming Chengyu was pulled into another gathering. As the mood grew lively, the group played party games, recited poems, and composed verses, just like in the old days.

By the time he left the restaurant, Ming Chengyu’s stomach felt a little bloated.

To prevent anyone from getting unruly after drinking too much, their group had made a rule years ago: at their most enjoyable gatherings, not a single drop of alcohol was to be consumed.

His stomach was now full of sloshing, high-quality tea.

So, when Ming Chengyu returned to Ming’s Restaurant, his mind was clear and his eyes were bright. He immediately spotted a small, rather pitiful-looking figure in the main hall.

Li Yan’s eyes were just like Ming Lingyi’s, but his face... well, it resembled neither Ming Lingyi’s nor Li Yun’s at the moment. It was, after all, a bit too round.

Ming Chengyu recognized him just from a glimpse of the Little Bun’s profile.

After all, he had held the boy in his arms years ago.

Besides, for the first three or four months of his life, the Little Bun had practically been raised in the Ming Family home.

Li Yun had sent Li Yan to the Ming Family for two reasons. First, his mother had nearly cried herself blind during that time. Second, Li Yun himself had seemed to be possessed back then and didn’t dare keep Li Yan by his side.

An infant is too small, too fragile. A single moment of carelessness, and the world could lose him.

"Little Huachao," Ming Chengyu said with a smile, looking at the Little Bun’s profile.

He truly hadn’t expected to see his nephew so suddenly.

The moment Li Yan heard Ming Chengyu’s voice, he whipped his head around.

A pet name like "Huazhao"... other than his mother, the Empress, even his father, the Emperor, rarely called him that.

So when he suddenly heard someone call him "Little Huachao," Li Yan couldn’t help but curiously size up Ming Chengyu, who was standing in the doorway.

The man was dressed in a moon-white robe, his figure as slender as bamboo. Outside, only twilight remained. He carried a lantern, and its dim, yellow glow seeped through his slightly worn robes, giving them a simple, clean look.

His features were as elegant as an ink wash painting, his gaze as tranquil as a still well. His hand, with its well-defined knuckles, held a stack of papers. Earlier at the restaurant, Ming Chengyu’s friends had heard that one of the famed Twin Beauties of Shangjing was now "helping out" at Ming’s Restaurant. With the restaurant’s poetry contest in full swing, someone at the party had suggested they write poems to enter. They’d then pushed Ming Chengyu to register for them when he got back. He hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry, but he had dutifully accepted his friends’ compositions.

Now, the wrist of the hand holding the papers was faintly visible beneath a simple sleeve, its lean outline distinct.

There wasn’t a trace of restlessness about him, only the composed and leisurely air of a man steeped in years of literature, a presence that was wonderfully refreshing.

With a little hop, Li Yan jumped down from his high chair. He walked up to Ming Chengyu with his hands clasped behind his back, and his eyes, so much like Ming Lingyi’s, carefully scanned Ming Chengyu from top to bottom several times.

Then, before Ming Chengyu could introduce himself, Li Yan very properly—and rather adorably—gave him a junior’s bow.

"Li Yan greets Uncle," the Little Bun said, enunciating every word.

When standing straight, he looked like a little pine tree, but now, bent at the waist in a bow, he resembled a chubby, half-eaten mooncake.

Ming Chengyu let out a warm laugh and reached out to help him up. "This commoner has not yet paid his respects to Your Highness. How can I accept such a greeting?"

Li Yan glanced around. Seeing that only he and his uncle were left in the hall, he whispered, "This is Mother’s place. Mother says there are only family members here, no imperial relatives or nobility." He pursed his lips, revealing a small dimple at the corner of his mouth. "Uncle is my elder. It is what I, Li Yan, should do."

Ming Chengyu chuckled, resisting the powerful urge to reach out and ruffle the Little Bun’s hair.

"I haven’t even introduced myself, and yet Little Huachao has already guessed who I am?"