The four men talked until hunger pangs reminded them that noon had long passed. Two soldiers stood guard at the entrance, strictly enforcing orders to block any man or woman attempting to deliver meals. Yang Ming had to walk another hundred paces to arrange for food.
Cheng Jinzhou stretched lazily and said to Wu Zong with a smile, "I've told you everything you need to know. Don't make any mistakes."
"Rest assured, my lord," replied Wu Zong, a man in his thirties or forties with utmost sincerity. "Without your permission, not a single word of what you've said today will leave my lips."
"Good." Cheng Jinzhou lifted his head—filled with proprietary awareness—and turned without hesitation. "Minister Liu, this should save us quite a sum, shouldn't it?"
"Indeed, indeed." Liu Bin, a man who had spent fifty years mastering human nature, could smell a request coming from Cheng's tone. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he replied half-jokingly, "Since we're taking advantage of the situation, I've prepared two gifts for you. After the meal, Yang Ming will show them to you. I'm afraid I must attend to other guests."
Cheng Jinzhou promptly took his leave and followed Yang Ming out. The old advisor was actually quite witty—or rather, exceptionally skilled in conversation—able to put others at ease with the polished charm of a master salesman.
It was now mid-afternoon, too late for a proper meal among nobility. Instead, delicate pastries and light dishes accompanied by mild rice wine created an atmosphere of leisurely comfort.
Though appearances could be deceiving.
While Cheng Jinzhou didn't urgently need silver, his sense of impending crisis ran deep. After hastily filling his stomach, he widened his eyes, waiting as Yang Ming leisurely sipped tea.
The poor old man couldn't drink much either. With comical flair, he rubbed his mustache and squinted. "Young master, shall we review the gift list first?"
Cheng Jinzhou nodded. Among aristocrats, presenting estates and lands didn't require personal inspection—completing paperwork in the city and sending a competent steward sufficed. Many great landowners never laid eyes on properties bearing their names.
At Yang Ming's soft clap, servants presented an ornate gilt-edged inventory on a wooden tray—clearly prepared well in advance.
Minister Liu proved far from stingy, seeming quite pleased with his new son-in-law.
Cheng Jinzhou lifted the list with both hands, unfolding it before his chest. The densely packed, elegantly inked characters immediately dazzled his eyes.
"Minister Liu owns a summer retreat near Shaonan City," Yang Ming summarized, knowing the details could overwhelm. "It includes two docks, forty-one buildings, seven vessels—among them the Xiding, a sizable riverboat though normally unmanned. The estate supports twenty tenant families and four servant households." He continued, "North of Xiaxi Creek lies two hundred mu of farmland and two thousand qing of woodland—ranking among the prefecture's grandest estates."
One qing equaled fifteen mu, making two thousand qing thirty thousand mu—a staggering asset in any era, not to mention the docks, buildings, and boats, though woodland proved harder to value.
Yang Ming studied Cheng Jinzhou's reaction before adding, "Since the estate was purchased by the previous generation, Minister Liu prefers not to sell. However, all annual yields and assets within shall be at your disposal, young master."
Summer estates typically generated little income—two hundred mu of crops meant little to aristocrats, while woodlands mainly served as hunting grounds for display. Yet Cheng Jinzhou found profound value here. "Naturally," he agreed readily.
Yang Ming rose with a chuckle. "Excellent. Beyond this, Minister Liu has prepared modest additional gifts."
"More?" The best saved for last, Cheng Jinzhou's interest piqued.
Yang Ming turned and clapped. "First, two bodyguards—veterans who fought through countless battles, serving as Minister Liu's personal guards for four years with unwavering loyalty..."
Amidst shuffling sounds, two two-meter-tall figures emerged from a side chamber. Clad in half-armor and carrying helmets, the silent warriors stopped before Liu Bin.
"Meng Da! Meng Er! Pay respects to the young master!" Their voices boomed, their armored bulk resembling towering mechs.
"Born in the wrong era," Cheng Jinzhou muttered. "Had you played NBA, you could've bought estates yourselves."
Yang Ming, evidently Liu Bin's most trusted aide, relayed final instructions firmly. "You may take them wherever you go. From today onward, they no longer belong to the Liu household."
Personal guards ranked above common servants, making their gifting between in-laws customary. The Meng brothers' stoic bows—no unnecessary words—perfectly matched Cheng Jinzhou's ideal of military bearing.
Seeing no objections, Yang Ming inwardly praised before announcing, "Finally, young master, let us step outside."
With an inviting gesture, he led the way.
Cheng Jinzhou followed suit, matching Yang Ming's measured pace.
Outside stood two chestnut steeds taller than a man's head, snorting impatiently, hooves pawing the ground.
Cheng Jinzhou fell in love instantly, striding past Yang Ming with a laugh. "These must be the gifts you mentioned!"
"Two-year-old purebred Anyama colts—treasures from the Quan family of Longnan. Even the capital boasts only a handful of such specimens." Yang Ming grew more fervent than Cheng Jinzhou, listing details like a connoisseur. "Born at Minister Liu's stables, second generation. Look at those powerful legs, those perfectly balanced shoulders—each a living masterpiece."
Speed had always captivated humanity. In this era, prized horses rivaled twenty-first-century supercars in their allure.
Coming from the river-rich Cheng lands, Cheng Jinzhou had never seen such magnificent steeds.
Even in his past life, he'd never touched these glorious creatures—their finest specimens far surpassing televised counterparts.
"Being a garrison commander does have perks," Cheng Jinzhou joked.
Yang Ming smiled, indicating a fair-skinned servant. "If you lack suitable grooms, he can tend them for you."
"Very well." Cheng Jinzhou nodded with aristocratic grace—such graces came naturally to him.
Shaonan's rice-rich lands rarely saw northern warhorses. Yet like capital elites, local nobles kept them as prized possessions—much like twenty-first-century gentlemen buying Ferraris. If practicality dictated purchases, Italy would have starved long ago.
These two purebreds likely cost more than the Xiaxi estate.
Remembering they came from his father-in-law's generosity, Cheng Jinzhou's interest in the Liu family's eldest daughter suddenly intensified.