Chapter Fifty-Nine: Robbery!

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“Yi, you’re back! How did it go? Was everything smooth?”

Li Yi returned home to find everyone still awake in the study. The old master was his usual self, reclining in his chair, gently rocking back and forth, stroking his beard with his left hand, holding a book in his right, his gaze quietly fixed on the pages.

Meanwhile, Grandmother Red Whisk and her two personal maids were fiercely engaged in a game of Dou Dizhu. Though Grandmother was formidable in daily life, she was kind to the servants, and so the maids played without any reservations. The three of them were locked in a fierce, evenly matched battle. Uncle Li Dejian sat off to the side, practicing calligraphy with a fan that Li Yi had given him. Ever since Li Yi’s return, Li Dejian had truly relaxed, with his wife managing the household and the old master handling outside affairs. Even the education of the two young successors had now fallen to Li Yi, leaving Li Dejian with nothing but leisure.

As soon as Li Yi entered the room, Grandmother pushed aside her cards and rose quickly to greet him. Judging by the expressions of the two maids, Li Yi could tell Grandmother’s hand was likely poor, but what did it matter? As long as she was happy.

“Grandmother, rest assured! Everything went perfectly. With your grandson’s looks that could charm all the young maidens, a character fit to be a national idol, and talents so outstanding they can’t help but draw attention, how could they possibly make things difficult for me? You have no idea, Grandma, I was welcomed enthusiastically by every member of their family!”

“Good, good! I knew it! Who would dare dislike the grandson of Red Whisk?”

“Heh, Grandma, come here, let me tell you…” As Li Yi returned, the two maids took their leave. He helped his grandmother back to her seat at the card table and began boasting extravagantly. Red Whisk listened and praised him in turn, the old and the young, one eager to tell, the other eager to hear, chatting away with gusto, oblivious to the eye rolls from Madam Cui and the grinning Li Dejian. Even the old master abandoned his beard-stroking, waving his fan in the air as if barely restraining himself from smacking someone’s face.

Li Yi chatted with his grandmother for half an hour, talking her to sleep before swaggering back to the Jiang Residence under the disdainful gazes of the others—after all, there were still a group of “ghosts” waiting for him there.

The next day, Li Yi skipped morning exercises, rose early, gave instructions for the day, and returned to the Li Residence. Today was the day Li Er organized the annual winter hunt; he had to prepare properly—any embarrassment would be unacceptable.

Back in his own courtyard, with Bingyu’s help, Li Yi completed his “transformation.” He donned a black fitted suit of his own design, draped a black cloak over his shoulders, and pulled on gloves he had crafted himself—he had only made two pairs of these black leather gloves, keeping one for himself and giving the other to the old master, which had moved the old man deeply. With black leather boots on his feet, he stood before the bronze mirror. Yes! The young man looked quite dashing—very good!

He twisted his waist, shook his hips, flashed his big teeth, checked his smile—once everything was in order, and under Bingyu’s bemused gaze, he grabbed his prepared supplies and strode out to the stables.

Today, Juechen was also exceptionally eye-catching, fitted with a custom white saddle Li Yi had made, topped with a thick, white cushion embroidered with red plum blossoms, and a pure white bridle. With Juechen’s flawless white coat, the horse looked every bit the part of a celestial steed, radiating an imposing presence.

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Li Yi straightened his back, leading Juechen by the reins, a faint smile on his lips—he was the very image of a white knight on horseback, or so he fancied. The horse was certainly handsome, but as for the rider—who knew how long he could actually keep up the act?

“Juechen, no matter what, you have to save face for your brother today. Don’t you dare buck me off. Behave, and I’ll find you a beautiful mare later!”

Patting Juechen’s neck, Li Yi led him into the front hall.

The old master was already waiting, dressed much like Li Yi—in a fitted outfit, cloak, and gloves, though looking even more like a general.

“You rascal, are you going on a picnic or a spring hunt?”

Li Yi chuckled. “It’s all the same!”

The old master smiled helplessly. “Just hope you get through today safely.”

Li Yi was taken aback. “Grandfather, what do you mean?”

“Heh, you’ll see soon enough,” the old master replied, handing Li Yi a double-limbed fine bow and a quiver of arrows, then leading the way out.

“What did he mean by that?” Li Yi was left scratching his head. But with the sun high in the sky, who would dare provoke him out in the open? He examined the bow and arrows, testing the draw—it was stiff, barely manageable. Li Yi had only toyed with bows a few times during his army days, never delving deeply, since his specialty was firearms. Even when he’d used bows, they were semi-automatic, not hand-crafted like this. He wasn’t sure about his aim, but with his sniper skills, it shouldn’t be too bad.

He slung the bow and arrows over Juechen, mounted in one fluid motion, and galloped after the old master.

They rode to the Vermilion Bird Gate, where a crowd had already gathered. Nearly all capital officials of fifth rank and above were present, along with several princes and at least one or two family members each. There were exceptions, of course—like Cheng Yaojin, one of the “Two Generals of Tang,” who shamelessly brought all three of his little rascals along.

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Li Yi and the old master drew immediate attention—their presence impossible to ignore, whether it was Li Jing or the current Li Yi. Before Li Yi had even reached the crowd, a burly man with a booming laugh approached. At a glance, Li Yi knew who he was: a full beard, a roguish grin, and three youthful “little brothers” trailing behind. In all of Great Tang, no one fit that description but Cheng Yaojin.

“Haha! Brother, you’re finally here! I’ve been waiting ages! Eh, what’s that on your hand?”

Cheng Yaojin, the incorrigible rogue, had barely finished his greetings with Li Jing before his wolfish eyes locked onto the old master’s gloves.

Li Jing remained calm—he knew that, aside from Li Er, no one in the Tang dared covet his things. “Ah, Zhijie, these are gloves Yi made for me. Slip them on, and they’re truly warm!”

Cheng Yaojin had long had his eye on Li Yi; even if he were braver, he wouldn’t dare snatch something from Li Jing. But not knowing Li Yi, he needed an excuse. As soon as Li Jing finished speaking, Cheng Yaojin shifted his focus.

“So this must be Nephew Li Yi! I heard a few days ago that Brother recognized a clever grandson, and I’ve long wanted to meet him. Today, at last!”

A sense of foreboding crept into Li Yi’s heart. This old scoundrel wouldn’t try something, would he? Bracing himself, he greeted Cheng Yaojin. “Nephew Li Yi greets Uncle Cheng. I should have paid my respects sooner, but I’ve been busy. Please, Uncle Cheng, forgive me!”

Cheng Yaojin grinned. “Forgive, forgive! No need to stand on ceremony. Old Cheng isn’t so petty. Just let me try on those gloves of yours, and we’re even.” As he spoke, Cheng Yaojin deftly snatched the gloves off Li Yi’s hands, so fast it seemed he’d honed the move a thousand times—Li Yi didn’t even have time to react.