Wei Ling immediately pulled back and turned to follow Zhongli Ting out of the room. As they walked, he asked, "What’s wrong? Are we going to settle the score with those two wretches? Let's go, let's go!"
Zhongli Ting shook his head. "Go where? The entire army has their eyes on you. Don't cause trouble for your uncle."
The general in charge of this garrison was Wei Ling’s own father—Zhongli Ting’s maternal uncle.
"Ah, then what should we do?" Wei Ling asked. "Are we just going to let it slide? That’s letting them off way too easy, isn't it?"
He truly couldn't swallow his pride. After a moment of thought, he suggested, "How about we just sneak up on them and bag them?"
Zhongli Ting raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "I never realized you had such a wicked side."
"How does that saying go?" Wei Ling retorted. "‘Near vermilion, one gets stained red; near ink, one gets stained black.’ Spending every day around you and seeing how you operate, I’m bound to have picked up a few tricks."
"Oh?" Zhongli Ting glanced at Wei Ling, his tone unhurried. "Pay your tuition, then."
"Brother!"
Suddenly sensing something, Wei Ling hurriedly stepped back and vaulted away, landing eight yards from Zhongli Ting. He reached for his waist—it was empty.
Where a coin purse should have been—containing the stipend he’d just received from the camp this month—there was nothing.
Wei Ling felt like crying. "How do you keep doing that?"
Zhongli Ting let out a low laugh, spinning the silk pouch on his finger. He looked maddeningly smug. "Not bad, you actually reacted. You’re improving."
*The nerve of this man!*
Wei Ling’s teeth ached with frustration. "I have a question: is your Crown Prince's Mansion actually going bankrupt?"
Otherwise, why would a Crown Prince take up robbery as a side gig? This had happened countless times. The military stipends weren't high, and his father kept a tight leash on his allowance; the little money he had was constantly being pilfered by Zhongli Ting.
Zhongli Ting tilted his head, scanning behind him before turning back with a smirk. "Men turn bad when they have too much money. I’m doing this for your own good."
Wei Ling gave a strained smile. "No wonder you’re full of such malice."
Zhongli Ting ignored the personal attack, nonchalantly pouring the coins out into his own hand and tossing the empty pouch back to Wei Ling. "You play with that. I’m going out for a bit."
Wei Ling shoved the empty pouch into his tunic. "I’m coming too!"
"No need," Zhongli Ting said. "You have a more important mission."
"What is it?"
"Watch the child."
Wei Ling was stunned. "Huh?" Was he kidding?
"Don't get involved in this," Zhongli Ting said ruthlessly.
Wei Ling muttered, "I wouldn't hold you back."
Military regulations weren't just for show; at their level, any minor mistake would be seized upon and amplified indefinitely. Conflict between soldiers and civilians was a strictly forbidden line. Adding another person to the mix would only complicate things.
Zhongli Ting didn't mention this, saying only, "I’m the one who took her in. Do you really need to play the hero?"
Wei Ling was indignant. "No, this is a rare chance to play the hero saving the damsel in distress. How can you hog all the glory?"
"Get lost, stop talking nonsense," Zhongli Ting said, half-laughing in exasperation. "This is different. You won't walk away unscathed."
"If I wouldn't walk away unscathed, then how could you? Don't tell me you’re planning to abuse your status? Even a prince is subject to the same laws as a commoner when he breaks them." Wei Ling wasn't stupid; he understood the situation perfectly.
Zhongli Ting chided him, "How many times must I say it? Must you shout it so everyone knows?"
His exile to the military camp was a secret. Everyone in the garrison thought he was just a distant relative of General Wei; aside from the Wei family, no one knew his true identity.
"Ugh, we’re outside, aren't we?"
Zhongli Ting cracked his knuckles. "Fine. Keep an eye on the child. I’ll be back soon."
"Oh." Wei Ling answered listlessly, looking for all the world like a wilted eggplant.
After Ruhuahua finished her meal, she diligently washed the bowls and chopsticks, standing on tiptoe to put them away. When she walked outside, she saw only Wei Ling, who was squatting on the ground, drawing aimless patterns with a twig.
Ruhuahua walked over and squatted opposite him, reading aloud, "Black heart, black lungs, black liver..."
Wei Ling froze. He looked up, incredulous. "You can actually read?"
Ruhuahua blinked.
Wei Ling frowned slightly, feeling a bit strange. In Zhongrong, the teachings and social etiquette were strictly enforced; none of the prefectures had schools for girls, and only the daughters of high-ranking noble families would hire tutors to teach them at home.
Before he could dwell on it, his strange thoughts were interrupted by Ruhuahua.
Looking at what he had written, she asked, "What is a black heart, black lungs, and black liver?"
Wei Ling: "..."
Ruhuahua nodded earnestly, asking with great persistence, "Isn't 'black heart' an insult?"
Wei Ling snapped his twig in half and replied bluntly, "No, it's just another name for Brother Ting."
"..." Ruhuahua blinked, only half-understanding. "Brother? What did he go off to do?"
Wei Ling pondered for a moment. He felt it wouldn't do to expose a child to talk of violence, so he said, "He went to reason with someone."
Ruhuahua asked innocently, "What kind of reason?"
Wei Ling thought about it seriously. "Probably reasons on how to be a proper human being."
Ruhuahua nodded, acting like a fountain of questions. "Who isn't being a proper human? Why aren't they?"
Wei Ling was taken aback, then laughed, ruffling her hair. "You little fool."
Ruhuahua refuted him quietly, "I'm not a fool." After a pause, driven by curiosity, she asked again, "Who isn't being a proper human?"
Wei Ling clicked his tongue. "Brother Ting isn't being a proper human."
He hadn't even brought him along for the fight. It was truly wicked of him.
"Who isn't being a proper human?"
This question didn't come from Ruhuahua.
The voice came from behind them—it was very familiar, icy, and refreshing to the ear.
"..." Wei Ling choked. *That man returned fast.*
Wei Ling looked up and saw Zhongli Ting, his clothes perfectly neat, looking no different than when he had left.
Others didn't know, but Wei Ling knew best: their "Brother Ting" looked like a refined gentleman, but if you truly offended him, you would realize just how ruthless he could be.
He stood up from the ground and stretched. "Done? Let’s go then."
Ruhuahua looked bewildered. "Go where?"
Zhongli Ting walked over and crouched down to look her in the eye. "I failed you before. Are you still willing to come with me now?"
Ruhuahua shifted backward, eyes cast down, not daring to look at him. "...No."
"Still holding a grudge against your brother?" Zhongli Ting asked.
"No, no." Ruhuahua looked up at him for a fleeting second, shook her head nervously, and tried to say something. Restricted by her vocabulary, she ended up squeezing out a dry, "Brother... is very good." She paused, then added gloomily, "I am not good."
"Why would you think that?"
Ruhuahua's eyelashes trembled. As if recalling those malicious voices, she hung her head in distress. "I will only drag Brother down..."
"Who said that?"
Ruhuahua kept her eyes lowered. "They said... raising me is a bad investment. I'm a drag, a drag—"
Zhongli Ting took a deep breath and interrupted her. "No. You are not."
He straightened up, his thumb brushing across the girl's slightly reddened eyes. Feeling the dampness on her eyelids, Zhongli Ting sighed. "I’m sorry, child. That was my mistake."
All this harm had been caused by his own negligence. Had he been just a little more careful, none of this would have happened.