Chapter 504: Method of Disposal

The scene had fallen into a heavy, almost suffocating silence—so quiet that it only served to amplify every faint sound. Against this stillness, the footsteps of Uncle Zhu Shouren rang out with startling clarity. Though he crept along on tiptoe, trying his best to remain unnoticed, the very act of sneaking only made him stand out more starkly. In the end, he was exposed—laid bare under the gaze of countless watching eyes.

In truth, from the very moment Zhu Ping’an had appeared, Uncle Shouren had already been planning his escape. He had intended to slip away quietly, unnoticed, like a shadow dissolving into darkness. But Old Master Zhu had been standing too close at his side, leaving him no opportunity to move. Only when the old man and the villagers had turned their attention to Feng Hushu did Uncle Shouren finally seize his chance. Inch by inch, he began to edge away, careful, silent, almost invisible.

At first, everything went smoothly. No one noticed him. He was just on the verge of making his escape—so close he could almost taste freedom—when Feng Hushu’s sudden, unguarded remark shattered the moment like a stone thrown into still water.

When Feng Hushu spoke, Uncle Shouren, wholly absorbed in his attempt to flee, didn’t notice anything amiss. But as soon as Feng’s words fell and the entire scene plunged into an eerie silence, a chill of unease crept over him. Something was wrong.

He turned his head.

And in that instant, he saw it—countless pairs of eyes, all fixed squarely on him.

Why are they all looking at me like that? I was just trying to leave…

An innocent expression quickly spread across Uncle Zhu Shouren’s face, as if he had been wronged. But deep down, he understood exactly what was happening. After all, he was the one who had done it—how could he not know? If he hadn’t been guilty, why would he have tried to sneak away in the first place?

A glance at Feng Hushu—who now looked utterly exposed, as if he had confessed everything—combined with the villagers’ strange, knowing expressions, was enough. In that moment, realization dawned fully in his heart.

When the villagers connected the image of Uncle Shouren sneaking away with Feng Hushu’s earlier self-slapping confession, the truth of the matter took shape in their minds with simple, rustic certainty.

Soon, whispers broke out among the crowd. People leaned toward one another, murmuring behind their hands, while their gazes toward Uncle Zhu Shouren grew increasingly strange and pointed.

Zhu Ping’an’s father looked at his elder brother with a complicated expression, disappointment heavy in his eyes. Not long ago, this very brother had borrowed money from him, claiming he needed it to travel for the imperial examinations—and he had lent it without hesitation. Yet how had that trust been repaid? By colluding with outsiders to scheme against the family’s land.

Madam Chen, Zhu Ping’an’s mother, regarded Uncle Shouren with undisguised disdain. If not for the overwhelming relief and joy she felt at her son’s safe return, she would have spat in his face without a second thought.

Old Master Zhu looked from Zhu Ping’an to his eldest son, who had been caught sneaking away. His hands trembled uncontrollably. The wrinkles on his already furrowed brow seemed to deepen further, and his lips quivered several times as if to speak—yet in the end, all that emerged was a long, weary sigh.

The reason they believed Feng Hushu’s words so readily was simple: given Uncle Shouren’s character, such behavior was entirely unsurprising.

As the old saying goes—if you’ve done nothing wrong, you need not fear a knock at the door. But if you have… then fear comes naturally. And Uncle Shouren’s furtive attempt to slip away had all but confirmed the matter.

“Nonsense! We are all members of the Zhu family—how could my uncle possibly do such a thing?” Zhu Ping’an declared firmly, his tone righteous and resolute, as he flatly denied Feng Hushu’s accusations.

The moment his words fell, soft sighs rippled through the surrounding villagers, as though they longed to shake him awake.

‘Ping’an, oh Ping’an… you’re still too inexperienced. How can you not see your uncle’s true nature? Why was he sneaking away just now? Isn’t it obvious?’

‘Ah… Ping’an is too kind. The kind are bullied; the gentle are ridden like horses.’

‘Even at a time like this, he’s still defending his uncle… what a benevolent young man.’

‘How can two people from the same Zhu family be so different? Look at Ping’an… and then look at his uncle… Zhu Shouren, have you learned nothing?’

Public opinion swiftly tipped in Zhu Ping’an’s favor. In their hearts, the villagers had already accepted Feng Hushu’s account as truth. They praised Zhu Ping’an openly, while their attitude toward Uncle Zhu Shouren turned cold and condemning.

Zhu Ping’an cast a subtle glance over the crowd, taking in their reactions. What others could see, he could see as well—indeed, he understood his uncle’s nature far better than any of them. The reason he acted as he did, however, lay in careful consideration of the times they lived in.

This was the Great Ming—a feudal society where clan ties and family hierarchy held immense weight.

If he were to question or suspect his elder uncle based solely on the word of an outsider, he would inevitably be criticized for trusting a stranger over his own kin. Of course, it wasn’t that Zhu Ping’an harbored any deep scheming intent against his uncle—it hadn’t come to that.

Feng Hushu and his uncle required two entirely different approaches.

As for Feng Hushu, there would be no leniency. Action would be taken when necessary—though even then, it must be done with tact. After all, as the saying goes, even when beating a dog, one must consider its master. Feng Hushu was, after all, a clerk under the Magistrate of Huaining County. Though Zhu Ping’an’s rank surpassed that of a mere county magistrate and he had no reason to fear him, there were still considerations to bear in mind. His family still lived within Huaining County, and maintaining a good relationship with the magistrate would bring nothing but benefit.

Since one must consider the master when dealing with the dog… then why not summon the master and let him discipline his own subordinate?

As for Uncle Zhu Shouren—Zhu Ping’an had long understood the man’s character, ever since childhood, and his grievances ran deep. Setting aside everything else, there was that incident when his uncle had borrowed usurious loans under his father’s name, nearly getting his father beaten to death and forcing their family into separation, leaving them to live in a thatched hut. That alone was enough to leave a lasting mark. And now, today’s scheme to seize family property was yet another bold stroke added to his uncle’s record.

But unlike Feng Hushu, his uncle could not be dealt with in the same manner.

For now, it was enough that the villagers knew the truth. As for punishment, such matters were not suitable for public spectacle. Even if he was entirely justified, publicly disciplining his own elder would damage his reputation. This was something that had to be resolved behind closed doors, within the family. If his grandfather chose to shield his uncle… then Zhu Ping’an would have no choice but to take matters into his own hands.

Moreover, when Zhu Ping’an had gone missing at sea, his cousin Jun had followed his elder brother to search for him. Though Jun hadn’t contributed much, he had still come along. And Uncle Shouren was, after all, Jun’s father—his feelings had to be considered.

In ancient times, reputation was everything. That, too, was one of the reasons behind Zhu Ping’an’s chosen approach.

“My lord! Every word I’ve said is the truth, my lord!” Feng Hushu cried out, raising his head in agitation, his voice trembling with urgency. “It was your uncle, Zhu Shouren, who came to me first! I—I was blinded by greed, my lord, I—”

“Silence! Utter nonsense!” Uncle Zhu Shouren cut him off sharply, even more agitated than Feng himself. Straightening his back and clasping his hands behind him, he adopted a solemn, dignified posture as he declared, “I, Zhu Shouren, am of the Zhu family, bound by blood and shared roots. How could I possibly stoop to such disgraceful acts as scheming to seize family land?”

Zhu Ping’an curled his lips slightly, watching his uncle’s earnest, shameless performance. A faint, helpless smile flickered across his face.

He really thinks I can’t see through him?