Chapter 2049 - The Past Is Too Painful to Recall

"Second Master!" Huang Ping blurted out.

"Mmph mmph mmph..." The man on the ground clearly recognized him too, struggling desperately to respond. But with his mouth gagged, his face flushed crimson and veins bulged on his forehead.

Huang Ping regretted calling out the instant he did. Everyone in the room was staring at him now. Yao Yulan's perpetually frigid countenance actually displayed a hint of amused interest, and that Political Security woman Yang Cao was observing him with raised eyebrows, her gaze unwavering. He'd heard of Political Security—rumor claimed they possessed the mystical powers of the leaders, specializing in hunting down criminals and rebels. Even if you conducted a private conversation with only one other person, Political Security would somehow learn of it. Legend stated that once you were apprehended, you "went in wearing clothes and came out under a white sheet." Now Yang Cao's unfriendly expression—what if she suspected him of some unspeakable dealings? One word of "seize him" and he'd be spending tonight in Political Security's cells! What was he going to do?!

"Report, Team Leader: This person is Huang Ping, native of Huangjia Village, Lingao County, Hainan Region. Formerly a household servant of the Huang family. Enrolled in Fangcaodi in 1631, later transferred to the Tax Vocational School. Graduated in 1635 and joined the Economic Major Cases Investigation Division of Guangzhou Special Municipality's Tax Bureau, where I currently serve as investigator." Something misfired in Huang Ping's brain—he didn't know which circuit crossed—but he snapped to attention and recited his entire résumé in a booming voice.

In truth, he'd only been absent from Huangjia Village for four or five years of study and employment, yet that village where he'd spent more than a decade felt increasingly distant. Each time he passed by, he noticed it resembled less and less the place in his memories. Initially, he'd eagerly anticipated his weekly leave, knowing that if he simply reported to the Second Young Master about anything from school—even matters he himself didn't comprehend—he'd receive delicious treats and words of praise.

Gradually, circumstances changed. The simple principles from textbooks that Second Young Master simply couldn't grasp regardless of how he explained them, and sometimes when he unconsciously slipped into the school's manner of speaking, he'd earn a scolding for being "disrespectful" and "improper." Second Master's control over him grew ever tighter and more detailed; each visit home inevitably meant enduring increasingly lengthy "admonishments."

Huang Ping comprehended Second Master's concerns—he feared that he'd been "poisoned by the Australians." That's precisely how Second Master had earnestly counseled him when he first departed for Fangcaodi. This rendered him so nervous during his initial months at school that he spent the time convinced "the short-hairs mean to harm us," guarding against everything. His classmates considered him peculiar, and he was marginalized for an entire semester.

Gradually, he discovered that Fangcaodi wasn't remotely what Second Master had described. Teachers and classmates alike were genuinely good people. Though the academic workload was heavy enough to leave him gasping for breath, human relationships here were remarkably pure. He slowly integrated into the collective, increasingly appreciating the school's charm. Particularly after he took up rugby and became a rising star on campus, he became something of a "celebrity" at Fangcaodi...

He grew less and less willing to return home, preferring not to see his parents rather than go back. Approximately a year after enrollment, Second Master suddenly announced he wouldn't pay the tuition anymore and demanded he drop out to return to the village as his personal attendant. Though Huang Ping harbored a thousand objections, as a self-funded student he had no choice but to tearfully prepare to depart—and with that, his budding romance with the grain merchant's daughter came to an end. But when he arrived home, his father Huang Shoucai entertained different ideas about continuing his education.

Since village chief Huang Shoutong joined the Lingao County Consultative Assembly, the Huang family had proactively disbanded their militia and demolished their defensive walls. Huang Shoutong himself attended every county meeting without fail and diligently implemented every directive from the Executive Committee, earning praise from numerous Elders. As a distant relative of Huang Shoutong beyond the five degrees of mourning, Huang Shoucai naturally followed suit—though his land holdings were so minimal that when the Tiandihui reorganized Huangjia Village's land through redistribution, he simply surrendered it all. With his background of having once tended a few horses for Huang Shoutong, the Tiandihui recommended him to Nick, and he became a horse farm employee. The Huang Shoucai household's circumstances actually improved considerably.

Neither Huang Shoucai nor his wife could read a single character, but their minds were sharp enough. Early on, they'd recognized that of Huang Shoutong's three sons, though the eldest managed the family business and the third commanded the militia, both cutting imposing figures, only the second son held a xiucai degree. So they'd swallowed their pride and scraped together what meager silver they'd saved to get their son placed as Second Master's personal attendant. Their hope was that someday their son might have superior prospects—being a manager-level servant still surpassed scratching a living from the soil.

After the short-hairs landed, though the couple didn't quite comprehend how "short-hair bandits" had become "short-hairs" then "Australians" then "the Executive Committee" in merely a few years, the changes since the Australians arrived were sufficiently clear. Hearing that their son's schooling taught Australian skills, the old couple was even more pleased, thinking their son's future would extend far beyond being a mere attendant. Now forced to drop out, Huang Shoucai's heart sank. At the horse farm, he listened to newspapers read aloud daily and had even learned a few characters himself. He understood the Executive Committee's ambitions extended far beyond carving out a small kingdom. Particularly when news arrived of the great victory at Chengmai and the burning of Guangzhou's Wuyangyi, he, like everyone else, felt the stirrings of "following the dragon's rise." Unfortunately, he was too aged—though he now worked for the Australian lords, there wasn't much future in it. His sole hope resided in his son. He immediately gritted his teeth and informed Huang Ping that the family would sell the clothes off their backs if that's what it required to keep him in school.

Given the Huang Ping household's economic situation, selling all their clothes still wouldn't cover tuition. Ultimately, Huang Shoucai approached Nick for assistance. Through his mediation, Delong issued its inaugural small personal loan to a local native: the "Fangcaodi Student Loan." Maximum term of five years, renewed annually. Funds were paid directly to the school by Delong. Ten percent annual interest, no compounding. The borrower was Huang Ping's guardian, Huang Shoucai, with the family's horse farm wages and their house in Huangjia Village as collateral. Guarantor: Nick.

News of this loan caused a sensation throughout Huangjia Village. Borrowing funds for education wasn't unheard of—there were charity schools and clan endowments, or assistance from local gentry. But no one had ever heard of borrowing "yinzi qian"—high-interest loans—for schooling. Lingao had never been renowned for scholarly achievement; since the county was established in the Tang dynasty, there'd been only one jinshi—Liu Dalin—and merely a handful of juren. A poor, remote locale with impoverished people meant crushing interest rates on private loans. Borrowing in famine years for survival and replanting made some sense, but borrowing for education was a losing proposition. Besides, under Australian governance, whether farming or working, everyone could benefit from their prosperity and easily remain fed. If anything, people borrowed from the Tiandihui for chicks and piglets.

Amid this chorus of criticism, Huang Ping returned to school. He relinquished the rugby he loved and began emulating the high-achieving students, adding extra study hours. But his academic potential was limited, and the pressure of his father's debt kept his grades from improving. When graduation neared and he learned that vocational school offered departmental subsidies, Huang Ping unhesitatingly accepted the assignment. The family scrimped and saved, and with Huang Ping's expenses dropping by more than half at vocational school, they'd only just finished repaying the loan earlier this year.

His family had long since relocated from Huangjia Village to settle at the horse farm. The Second Young Master he'd served for five or six years had gradually faded from memory. He hadn't even thought of him in the past two years. For Huang Ping, those days in Huangjia Village felt less like experiences than a dream—his current self and his family were utterly different from before. The gratitude he'd once felt for Second Master teaching him to read and helping him enroll had eroded during those nights of desperate studying beneath the weight of debt. The leaders' teachings and the knowledge from textbooks had shown him how laughable it was to take pride in being someone's attendant.

But now, meeting again under these circumstances, Huang Ping was completely taken aback.

"Understood, Investigator Huang. The Executive Committee knows you well and trusts you. No need to be nervous." Yang Cao's expression shifted to amiable warmth. Huang Ping steadied himself, glanced at his team leader Yao Yulan beside him, and observed her smile had grown even wider. He figured he was probably safe and released a long breath of relief. "Service to the Executive Committee and the People!"

"However, you should recuse yourself from this case. Go wait outside." Yang Cao added, "Just wait outside for now."

The muffled sounds from the man on the ground grew quieter. He thought he must have been mistaken—that strapping young man proclaiming "Service to the Executive Committee and the People" couldn't possibly be his former personal attendant, could it? Surely not, surely not...

Yet he'd observed Huang Ping's face from childhood to now, for ten years since he'd first become his attendant. If not Huang Ping, then who? Huang Bingkun sighed internally, still remembering that timid little boy behind Huang Shoucai who, at his father's urging, had softly called him "Second Master."

Huang Ping had been clever and endearing. In his leisure time, Huang Bingkun had enjoyed teaching him to read, and during those years, master and servant got along splendidly. Huang Ping became his "little shadow," the most trusted servant in the household. It was precisely for this reason that Huang Bingkun had argued the merits before his father, Huang Shoutong, to send Huang Ping to Fangcaodi—"learn the short-hairs' skills to counter the short-hairs." Who could have known everything would transform in barely a year! To think our years of master-servant affection couldn't withstand a few bewitching words from the short-hair bandits! Later, he'd simply quit his position and devoted himself entirely to studying short-hair books.

He recalled how he'd been tasked by Young Master Liang to rally loyalists, only to meet rejection everywhere. Grief welled in his heart. Looking across the two Guangs, who besides those in this room still remembered loyalty and honor!

"Alright then—" Just as Huang Bingkun was seething, he observed a leather boot plant itself before his eyes. "Everyone, don't waste time. Let's go see what we can extract from them. Inspector Lian, Team Leader Yao, how many personnel will you each dispatch to assist us?"

"Two from the Police Bureau."

"Three from the Tax Bureau."

(End of Chapter)