Chapter Seventy-Seven: Winning Over Cheng Yaojin

“So you are Cheng Yaojin, from Dong’e in Jizhou?” Li Wenyuan regarded the burly, dark-faced man in patched clothes before him with keen interest.

“Yes, I am Cheng Yaojin. But you sent word earlier that someone here could treat my mother’s illness—is that true?” Cheng Yaojin asked in his deep, booming voice.

“Tieniu, mind your manners,” interrupted the fair-faced man beside him. He turned to Li Wenyuan, clasped his fists, and said, “Please forgive him, Commander. My brother lost his father young, and his mother raised him single-handedly. Now that she is ill, his distress sometimes gets the better of him. I haven’t yet introduced myself: my surname is Qin, given name Qiong, courtesy name Shubao. This is my cousin, Cheng Yaojin, courtesy name Yizhen.”

“Filial piety is the root of all virtue. Since Brother Tieniu’s mother is gravely ill, I understand his urgency. Besides, as Commander of the Western Regions, I never speak in vain. Regardless of whether you two earn distinction in the martial exam, I will ensure your mother receives treatment,” Li Wenyuan replied with a smile.

It was a stroke of luck to have Qin Qiong come as well. Cheng Yaojin was currently serving under Li Mi, but Li Mi was ultimately a bandit leader, and Cheng’s mother had not enjoyed proper care in the army. Li Wenyuan had sent the Night Owl to deliver word, claiming he’d discovered a secret medicine in the Western Regions that could cure Cheng’s mother’s illness—hoping to lure Cheng into participating in the martial exam.

In truth, Cheng Yaojin’s mother’s ailment was no rare disease, but rather the fatigue and hardship of years raising her son, resulting in chronic exhaustion. With proper rest and nourishment, she would recover naturally. As for Qin Qiong, he was now an officer under Zhang Xutuo, his prospects bright. Li Wenyuan hadn’t hoped to recruit him, but Cheng Yaojin persuading Qin Qiong to come along was a pleasant surprise. Though Li Wenyuan’s heart brimmed with joy, years of discipline kept his emotions masked, and he simply smiled politely, arranging for the two to stay and prepare for the upcoming spring martial exam.

Later that day, Li Wenyuan brought the best physician in Wuwei County to the inn where Cheng Yaojin’s mother rested, for her examination. Afterward, Cheng Yaojin fed his mother a calming decoction, closed the door softly, and stepped outside to bow to Li Wenyuan and the doctor. “What illness afflicts my mother? Is there a cure?”

The doctor stroked his beard and replied, “She suffers no grave disease—merely exhaustion from years of toil, leading to weakness of the blood and energy. It is a chronic condition from overwork. With nourishing food and proper rest, she will recover on her own. However, it’s important to start soon; delay could cause harm.”

“Please, sir, tell me—what nourishment would be best?” Hearing his mother’s illness was not serious eased Cheng Yaojin’s heart, but the warning about potential harm prompted him to press further.

“At present, the finest remedy would be a decoction brewed from the Tianshan Snow Lotus, produced in the royal court of Western Turkestan,” the doctor replied after some thought, his face solemn.

Cheng Yaojin was stunned. Not only had he never heard of the Tianshan Snow Lotus, but the foreign land where it grew—the royal court of Western Turkestan—was far beyond his reach. And even if he could go, he couldn’t hope to afford such a rare flower with the meager savings he’d amassed over the years in Li Mi’s army.

Li Wenyuan handed the doctor his fee and signaled him to leave, then sent someone to fetch a Snow Lotus from his estate. He led Cheng Yaojin to a stone bench in the courtyard and said, “Brother Tieniu, I was fortunate to obtain several Snow Lotuses in the Western Regions. I’ll have one brought from my stores for your mother. It must be kept in an ice cellar to preserve its potency, so I’ll give you one now—prepare it for your mother as a decoction. When it’s used up, come to my residence for another.”

Cheng Yaojin was no fool—indeed, he was shrewd among shrewd men, well aware that one should not accept favors without earning them. He said, “Commander, such a precious remedy for my mother’s illness—how could I, a mere commoner, ever repay such a great kindness?”

Li Wenyuan smiled at Cheng Yaojin’s question. “In the sixth year of the Great Enterprise, when bandits plagued Shandong, I passed through Dong’e. I heard you had rallied hundreds of local braves to defend your homeland—a far cry from those mere thieves who live by plunder. I wished to make your acquaintance, but official duties kept me away. Later, I learned your father was the Grand Governor of Jizhou—a true tiger breeds no dogs. When I heard you were serving with Li Mi, I felt regret. Who would join brigands unless forced by hardship? Now, as I oversee the Western Regions and need able men, I’ve invited you here, hoping we can accomplish great things for the people. I also heard your mother was ill. My own mother passed early, so I never had the chance to fulfill my filial duty. Treating your mother is, in a way, fulfilling my own wish.”

Cheng Yaojin gave a bitter smile. “I may disappoint you, Commander. Since my father died, I’ve had to make ends meet with small business and have long neglected my martial training. I’ve forgotten most of what my father taught me, so I doubt I’ll earn any distinction in the exam. But my cousin Qin Qiong is the finest man I’ve ever known—his martial skills are outstanding, and he’s an excellent leader. Though he hasn’t won glory under Zhang Xutuo, that’s only because he’s fought bandits, and as the saying goes, the best warriors have no flashy victories.”

“You need not worry. I truly seek talent, which is why I’ve established this martial exam. Those with genuine skill will receive appropriate rank and reward; no talent will go unrecognized. On the contrary, Brother Tieniu, you should strive hard—I look forward to seeing you don your armor, break through enemy lines, and restore your father’s renown,” Li Wenyuan said, handing Cheng Yaojin the wooden box containing the Snow Lotus without even glancing at it.