Chapter 135 – The Case of the Missing Hen
The Liu Residence took the initiative to dismiss Mr. Wei Yuan, even though he had already expressed his intention to resign. Such an action was quick to attract hatred.
The most perfect solution would be to have Mr. Wei Yuan resign on his own accord, while also writing him a recommendation letter. No matter where it was sent, he would ultimately end up in Langya; the key issue was Mr. Wei Yuan “choosing to resign!”
In this way, both the Liu Residence and Mr. Wei Yuan would have a way out, and both parties would be pleased.
Before Jiang Pengji arrived, she hadn’t thought much of it; however, after carefully observing Mr. Wei’s expression and deducing his psychological changes, she felt somewhat reassured. This teacher was more insightful than she had anticipated, or perhaps he was a true mentor, willing to consider his students’ futures.
In this era, there was a saying—“One day as a teacher, a lifetime as a father.”
Many teachers, even when realizing they were not suited to teach, would stubbornly cling to their positions for the sake of reputation, ultimately leading their students astray.
While Mr. Wei had his flaws, he was fundamentally upright and wouldn’t make life difficult for his students over such matters.
“Langya… tsk, I hope it won’t disappoint me.”
She snapped open her sandalwood fan, leaning back casually against the table while closing her eyes, seemingly at ease, but her mind was racing with calculations.
The war situation in this era was entirely different from her previous one; the discrepancies in many areas were vast.
If she were to undertake a significant endeavor, it was a matter of competing for resources, manpower, and territory.
Resources were a given; with some thought, she could always acquire them—eating off the enemy and funding warfare through war was one of the ways to increase her resources.
“Territory” was also manageable; it was only a matter of time before Dongqing descended into chaos.
Within the next few years, seizing a piece of land wouldn’t be too difficult; she already had a location in mind.
The real challenge lay in the second point—people!
Other aspects could be compromised, but “people” couldn’t just be cobbled together.
“People” didn’t only refer to troops.
While simple military formations could be resolved with food and financial resources—raising soldiers and procuring horses, with a bit of training, they could at least appear presentable.
However, acquiring higher-level civilian and military talents was not so easy.
The literacy rate in this era was extremely low, and there were few people who could read; talented and capable individuals were naturally even rarer.
Truly gifted individuals often had their own aspirations and goals. If one could not fully sway them, capturing them wouldn’t avail much.
Jiang Pengji was less troubled by how to convince these individuals and more by the inability to find such talents.
Once she had the talent in hand, other problems could be deferred.
As she put it—once you entered her domain, you were hers! Whether alive or dead!
Her subordinates only had the option to retire, remain in position, or die in battle; anyone wanting to bail halfway through would get a smack!
Yes, she was indeed that domineering and unreasonable; she loathed betrayal the most. No one in her past life dared to reason with this Seventh Legion commander.
Apart from civilian officials, there were also military generals; after all, one couldn’t rely solely on a bunch of scholars to charge into battle with swords, right?
The requirements for commanders were different from those for ordinary soldiers. The latter only needed to fight valiantly, understand some formations, fearlessly engage the enemy, and deal with them decisively. Commanders, however, had many subtleties involved in leading troops into battle; mere physical strength would not suffice.
Jiang Pengji couldn’t use her previous life’s criteria to select individuals, but the core principles remained the same.
Thinking about it, it seemed she had quite a lot to do.
Moreover, upon deeper consideration, she realized that the selection of military generals was even scarcer than that of scholars, leaving her feeling disheartened.
Hmm, a streamer not targeting the Emperor is not a good general—this saying holds true.
Jiang Pengji maintained a fox-like smile for the streaming audience’s jabs, not waiting for the carriage driver to bring her the stool, she jumped down immediately.
“Xu Ke has returned to the residence?”
She suddenly asked the doorkeeper upon seeing him.
The doorkeeper was utterly dumbfounded, completely unaware of how the Young Master had known this.
Automatically bending slightly, he replied, “Yes, that Xu Ke has been waiting for a while now.”
“He must be facing some issues.” Jiang Pengji smiled, “So, behave well, and make sure not to let outsiders out.”
The doorkeeper was once again baffled; if it was an outsider, the focus should be on preventing them from entering the residence, rather than letting them out!
However, the servants of the Liu Residence were experts at deciphering others’ thoughts, and the doorkeeper was no exception.
After contemplating Jiang Pengji’s words, he suddenly slapped his forehead, realizing what she meant.
Currently, the Liu Residence’s “outsider,” was precisely the “Lady from the family of the maidservant” who had entered the residence yesterday!
The doorkeeper mentioned that Xu Ke had been waiting a long time, yet Jiang Pengji saw him in the study, thoroughly engrossed in his reading, showing no signs of annoyance about waiting too long. On the contrary, he seemed blissfully unaware of what was going on outside.
“Encountered trouble at the farm?”
Without so much as a greeting, Jiang Pengji stepped into the study and sat down at the desk.
Xu Ke was so engrossed in his book that he almost jumped in surprise at her sudden appearance.
Despite being startled, Xu Ke did not act out of line, let alone toss the book he held aside.
He carefully placed the book back on its rightful place, adjusted his clothing to ensure he looked presentable, and then sat down again.
Xu Ke shook his head and retrieved a handmade booklet from his sleeve, covered in tiny, meticulous writing.
With limited bamboo paper, he was also a frugal person. Writing larger would easily waste it.
As Jiang Pengji took a look, she saw clear listings of various data, with the content logically arranged. Despite the small writing, it didn’t appear cluttered. She felt a tinge of satisfaction; Xu Ke indeed had administrative talent, a capable steward… but still needed a partner.
She thought of the military officer who was hiding somewhere in the river regions, and her mind began to stir.
Xu Ke asked softly, “Young Master, can you see anything?”
Jiang Pengji playfully tossed the booklet back to Xu Ke with a smirk, retorting, “You dare to speak to me about the farm being robbed!”
Indeed, the data was very clear, and Xu Ke had not fabricated anything, so the problem was painfully clear.
According to their initial agreement, Xu Ke was to receive funds from the Liu Residence monthly, which were to be used for purchasing necessities and food for the soldiers. How to use this money most effectively had been Xu Ke’s responsibility, and the items purchased had been fairly priced.
But then the problem arose; she glanced through the list of all the items Xu Ke had bought and noticed something off.
The rice, cloth, and the occasional old hen Xu Ke specifically bought for the soldiers had gone missing.
Naturally, these weren’t to be used at present—firstly, the timing was wrong, and secondly, the quantities didn’t align.
Saying the timing was wrong was because when she first bought those house servants, Jiang Pengji had already had them each outfitted with a season’s worth of clothing; there was no need to tailor new clothes. Even if repurposed for training materials, the quantities still didn’t match.
“Did you fail to catch the thief?”
Jiang Pengji couldn’t help but chuckle; she had considered many possibilities but never thought it would be due to the farm being robbed.
Xu Ke, looking serious, observed with an air of contemplation, “Young Master is wise.”
“Wise, my foot!”
At that moment, Jiang Pengji was genuinely laughing.
