"Then I'll trouble you, Anmin. Anmin, what reward would you like?" Yang Cong said with a smile. He had been pale just moments before, but now he was full of energy again—purely psychological; he felt better because he was alright, a simple act of self-comfort.
"Treating you, sir, is a small matter. However, there's a minor issue. A few days ago, when entering the city through the west gate, a minor official harassed me. He charged me five strings of cash for the two-copper-coin entrance fee, and five strings for each of my forty followers. I can't swallow this insult, and I'd like to ask you, sir, to lend me someone to deal with him." Lu Ming frankly explained his problem, his expression contorted with rage, as if he harbored a deep-seated grudge.
Yang Cong disliked such a vindictive person, frowning slightly. "Anmin believes a gentleman's revenge is never too late," he said.
"My father taught me from a young age that a drop of kindness should be repaid with a spring of gratitude, that one should repay evil with kindness, and that one should repay evil with justice. How then can one repay kindness?" Lu Ming didn't see anything wrong with this; he'd rather make a clear impression, letting everyone know that he was such a petty person.
A true petty person—if you offend him, be prepared for retribution.
"And what if one day I become your enemy? What will you do then?" Yang Cong's tone was laced with sarcasm, wanting to see how the other would respond.
Barbarians are barbarians; people from uncivilized lands are indeed this crude.
"My lord has shown me great kindness, and I will repay that kindness tenfold. I will never be your enemy," Lu Ming said, raising his head to look directly at the other man. "If that day ever comes, I will surely commit suicide before you."
"Haha, Anmin, you're exaggerating. You have skill, but your heart is not so kind. Very well, revenge is a normal thing. I'll have my steward take you there, and you can do whatever you want with me," Yang Cong laughed. A viper?
He didn't lack sycophants, but he lacked capable subordinates.
"Thank you, my lord. Please sit down. We'll begin acupuncture treatment, followed by oral herbal decoction. I'll go back and make some ointment for you to apply. You should be fully recovered in a few months. However, the scars may not be completely gone, and I cannot do anything about that," Lu Ming said, secretly pleased, but making things clear first.
"No problem, you can begin," Yang Cong said, relieved. As long as he could be cured, that was enough. He was still in his prime, not yet accustomed to power; how could he possibly die like this?
Half an hour later, Lu Ming wiped his sweat. "My lord, it's done."
"Hmm." Yang Cong nodded, and after a short rest, called out loudly, "Dongfu, come in."
The steward rushed in, bowing and scraping, saying, "Master."
"This is Doctor Lu. From now on, Doctor Lu will be a distinguished guest of the manor. Do not obstruct his visits," Yang Cong said, pointing to Lu Ming. This was giving him the green light.
Ordinary people wanting to get in was wishful thinking.
How many talented men wanted to submit their poems, songs, and essays, hoping to gain his favor and thus enter his circle and rise to prominence? There was no such thing as a free lunch.
"Later, you'll accompany Doctor Lu on some errands. Remember, do as Doctor Lu says. If you don't do it well, don't bother coming back!"
"Yes, sir," the steward Dongfu bowed to Lu Ming. "Doctor Lu, my apologies for my rudeness. I'll obey any orders you give me in the future."
"Steward Dong, you're too kind," Lu Ming chuckled, inwardly unimpressed. A servant is a servant. He was arrogant before, but now he's as humble as a grandson. Even a lapdog would shake its head at this. He's worse than a dog!
After writing the prescription, Lu Ming left the Yang residence with Steward Dongfu.
It seemed like a bad deal to treat someone once and then use it against a minor official.
In fact, this was the smartest choice. To be used, you have to have value.
Besides, actively handing over leverage to someone is also a kind of cleverness. This kind of leverage is actually insignificant.
He's currently in the rising phase of his career; he needs to climb as high as possible.
As long as he had the opportunity to become a prefect, wielding military power, and with Dong Zhuo's entry into Luoyang, he could rest easy.
The future was a chaotic world; what use would incriminating evidence be then? Military power was true strength. Even the court would be powerless then; what use would such incriminating evidence be? Was dealing with a minor official considered incriminating?
Of course it was!
In a peaceful era, it would be an accusation of persecuting loyal officials.
But in a chaotic world, it was worthless, and might even be praised.
That was the difference; that was Lu Ming's plan.
Yang Cong clearly didn't realize this. Using him was one thing, cultivating a relationship was another.
If it weren't for the treatment of Lady Zhang Wen's toothache, he certainly wouldn't have taken Lu Ming seriously—just nobody.
The emperor's private physician often held a low-ranking position, but no one dared offend him. He wielded immense power; this route was sufficient.
Accompanied by his personal guards and his steward, Dongfu, Lu Ming prepared to return to settle scores.
Steward Dongfu, having learned the details of the matter to facilitate his actions, was also somewhat uneasy. This doctor didn't seem like a magnanimous person!
So, he spent the entire journey trying to get close to him, offering all sorts of flattery and apologies.
This petty fellow—he deliberately ignored him for two hours this morning; who knows, he might turn against him someday!
Wealthy families don't just have one steward. On the surface, there's one, but there are actually several below him, all holding positions of authority and eyeing the steward's position.
If things go wrong, they might remove him and take his place.
Therefore, the steward's apparent power and prestige are merely a facade; he's using someone else's authority as a pretext. Once exposed, he'll be embarrassed and powerless.
However, there are times when he uses someone else's power, like now.
Yang Cong instructed his steward to assist Lu Ming in dealing with a minor official. For a prefect to deal with a lowly official would be beneath him, so Lu Ming simply asked Yang Cong to handle the matter personally.
This is where the steward's role came in. The steward represented Yang Cong's influence, and even officials knew to be selective in their dealings. Dealing with a minor official was no problem.
Meanwhile, at the West Gate:
"You look suspicious. You need to exchange more to prove your innocence!"
"Stop! You look like a wanted criminal!"
"You're the wanted criminal! I'm a scholar!" A young man in a square scarf, his face flushed, a long sword at his waist, appeared to be a traveling scholar.
Scholars of this era were not weaklings. The Six Arts of a Gentleman were essential; horseback riding and swordsmanship were must-haves. Traveling far and wide was their primary goal.