Chapter 846: His Nickname is Wu Hundred-Thousand
For the first time ever, Shi Kefa skipped class.
He skipped class to see Wu Shen off at the train.
As they arrived at the train station, they found San Shier.
The supreme administrative official of the Gao Family Village committee!
He had already packed his luggage and was poised for departure, a cluster of spirited young scholars gathered around him, each exuding an exceptional aura of intellect and energy.
Apart from the scholars, a contingent of armed soldiers stood guard, clearly a special security detail assigned to protect them.
Wu Shen cupped his fists respectfully. "Steward San," he began, "I’ve truly burdened you with this task."
San Shier smiled. "You flatter me," he replied. "I'm quite pleased to have the opportunity to travel. After so many years confined to Gao Family Village, I've nearly forgotten what the outside world looks like. A chance to experience it anew is truly invigorating, a refreshing change of pace!"
Wu Shen, having rarely interacted with San Shier before, was utterly bewildered by this eccentric, exaggerated, and uniquely emphasized "idiom summary" speech pattern. He froze for a moment, completely taken aback.
San Shier chuckled, shaking his head. "My wife became a devout Daoist practitioner several years ago," he explained. "And my daughter is busy running the fertilizer factory over in Shanxi. So, there are no family dependents left at home now, hahaha! This is called being utterly alone—unburdened by worldly ties!"
Wu Shen gasped, "!!!"
Something was clearly amiss. *Why did this man talk like that?*
Wu Shen began to feel an immense weight of pressure settling upon him.
San Shier declared, "The train is about to depart. Let’s not linger and chat here at the station. We can board first; it’s never too late to converse leisurely once we’re on our way. This is called setting the stage and following through to the conclusion!"
Wu Shen blinked. "Doesn't that idiom, 'setting the stage and following through to the conclusion,' feel a little... misplaced in this context?"
San Shier tilted his head. "Oh? Is it not quite right? Did I perhaps misapply it? Well then, I suppose that’s what they call 'empty words and fallacious arguments'!"
Wu Shen clutched his head in exasperation. "Argh! Please, no more strange idioms!"
San Shier asked, "Don't you think it makes one sound incredibly scholarly?"
Wu Shen clenched a fist the size of an alms bowl. "I know scholars as numerous as the stars in the heavens," he growled, "but not one of them puts on airs quite like you!"
San Shier burst into hearty laughter, completely unashamed. In fact, he looked quite smug as he declared, "This, my friend, is precisely what they call 'deliberately mystifying others'!"
Wu Shen let out a frustrated "Pfft!"
Shi Kefa exclaimed, "Brother Wu? Brother Wu, what's happened to you? Quick, someone fetch a doctor! Brother Wu has fainted!"——
Wu Shen remained in a daze all the way to Hejin County. Only when the train came to a halt, unable to proceed further, and they were told to transfer to a boat, did he finally begin to feel a little more lucid.
Glancing back, he saw that Shi Kefa had not followed.
When Shi Kefa waved farewell to Wu Shen at the Gao Family Village train station, Wu Shen had still been reeling, unable to fully savor the deep sentiment encapsulated in the verse, "The Peach Blossom Pool is a thousand feet deep, yet it pales next to the heartfelt bond of Wang Lun's parting with me." A truly regrettable missed moment.
Stepping off the train, Wu Shen watched the Gao Family Village Militia's special security team diligently transferring cargo from the freight cars onto a waiting boat. The goods were all encased in large, tarp-covered baskets, their contents obscured from view.
Yet, the straining movements of the soldiers as they hoisted the baskets revealed one thing clearly: the cargo was extraordinarily heavy.
Wu Shen, brimming with curiosity, sidled up to San Shier. "Steward San," he inquired, "are they transporting the supplies you're taking to Taiyuan?"
San Shier nodded, then promptly shook his head. "No, not mine," he corrected. "These are for you. Specially bestowed by the Heavenly Lord, they are placed in your hands to bolster the foundation of Shanxi's reconstruction. This is called..."
Just as he was about to punctuate his statement with another idiom, the memory of Wu Shen's miserable fainting spell returned. *Never mind, I won't torment him any further,* he thought, firmly suppressing his chronic compulsion for idiomatic summaries.
Wu Shen was utterly baffled. "Bestowed by the Heavenly Lord?" he repeated. "What, precisely, could it be?"
San Shier's smile widened. "One million taels of silver," he announced.
Wu Shen gasped, "One million taels!"
A colossal exclamation mark seemed to erupt from above his head, stretching to fill the entire sky.
San Shier chuckled. "The Heavenly Lord said, 'I'm entrusting you with one million taels, to see how—'
—you manage to rebuild Shanxi. Build it well, and I will grant you another ten million taels. But if you fail, then... you must answer to Heaven yourself.'"
Wu Shen felt a colossal burden descend from the heavens, landing with a heavy thud on his shoulders. He couldn't help but sigh, gazing up at the sky. "This," he declared, "is what they call 'immense pressure'!"
San Shier gasped, drawing a sharp breath. "Sir Wu, you..."
Wu Shen rolled his eyes. "This is called 'substituting the plum for the peach'!"
San Shier sputtered, "Pfft!"
A special security guard rushed over, exclaiming, "Steward San? Steward San, what's wrong with you? Quickly, call a doctor!"
By the time Wu Shen finally reached Taiyuan Prefecture, officials of every rank were already assembled, waiting respectfully for his arrival.
The former governor, Dai Jun'en, stood prominently at the head of the welcoming party.
The moment Wu Shen laid eyes on the amiable elder, his heart flooded with guilt and embarrassment. He quickly stepped forward, bowing deeply to Dai Jun'en. "Sir Dai," he stammered, "this junior... this junior... alas... it's all due to this junior's memorial!"
Dai Jun'en offered a gentle smile. "It’s quite alright, quite alright!" he assured him. "From the very first day I took office, this old man was already prepared to return home and enjoy his retirement. This chaotic mess in Shanxi is hardly something an old poet like myself could ever set right. To be able to entrust Shanxi to the hands of a capable and promising official like Sir Wu, this old man is truly gratified."
He patted Wu Shen on the shoulder. "Shanxi, it's in your hands now," he declared.
Wu Shen nodded firmly. "This junior will certainly give his all," he promised.
Dai Jun'en chuckled. "Excellent, excellent. Then this old man can finally retire with peace of mind. Oh dear, I suddenly feel the urge to write poetry..."
His household servant abruptly sprang from the sidelines, presenting the "four treasures of the study" – brush, ink, ink slab, and paper – before him. Dai Jun'en seized the brush and rapidly scribbled a few lines, then burst into hearty laughter, crumpling the paper into a ball. "No, no, this won't do!" he exclaimed. "I'm too old, too old! I can't even write a decent poem anymore!"
Wu Shen, however, interjected, "This junior has a poem he wishes to present to Sir Dai."
Dai Jun'en raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Wu Shen took the brush, his hand moving in a vigorous, elegant script across the paper: "My sash seems to cling to distant emerald grass; my books almost mimic the red of setting sun. Though the secluded woods are etched by Sima Qian's brush, a cherished name, too, may find its place in halls of stone."
Dai Jun'en paused, his gaze lingering on the lines, then erupted into hearty laughter. "A cherished name, too, may find its place in halls of stone?" he repeated. "Hahaha, where would an old man like me acquire a 'cherished name'? Shanxi was a complete disaster under my rule! A cherished name? I wouldn't dare claim such a thing, wouldn't dare!"
With a final wave of his sleeve, he turned and, accompanied by his household servants, strode grandly away.
The moment Dai Jun'en departed, other officials swarmed forward, some bowing, others offering their greetings, all eager to pay their respects to their new superior. Every manner of "cow-ghost and snake-spirit" seemed to emerge, each vying for a moment of attention.
A governor, after all, was a powerful regional magnate; to call him a "local emperor" would be no exaggeration.
For an official of such immense stature, countless individuals naturally sought to curry favor.
At the very back of the welcoming party stood two military officers. They tried to push their way forward to make an impression, but for a long time, their turn never came. These two were precisely Brigade-Generals Hu Dawei and Liu Guangzuo, who had once accompanied Dai Jun'en on a visit to Hedong City.
Hu Dawei whispered, "Old Liu, I—
—heard that this Wu Shen is incredibly wealthy. He carries a hundred thousand taels of silver, and wherever he goes, he simply showers money. In his wake, the rebels reportedly fall to their knees, eagerly extending their hands to receive the coin, as docile as quails. Everyone secretly calls him 'Wu Hundred-Thousand'."
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