Chapter 042: This Girl Is Not Simple

Chapter 42: This Girl Is Not Simple

In the deep silence of the night, Wei Ba closed the official documents, patted his wide-open mouth, yawned hugely, stood up, and stretched with his hands on his hips. Just as he twisted his waist, the tent flap lifted, and Peng Xiaoyu entered carrying a basin of hot water. “Young General, wash your face and rest…”

Wei Ba was in the midst of an odd posture, hip stuck out, neck tilted, looking both strange and comical. Peng Xiaoyu caught the scene, mouth agape in surprise. “Young General, what are you doing…”

“Just stretching a bit, nothing much.” Wei Ba grinned awkwardly, hastily finished his exercise, and washed his face with the hot water. Noticing a steaming bowl of porridge by his side, he asked, somewhat puzzled, “Why porridge at this hour?”

“Young General, you still have to read. How can you go on without a little porridge?” Peng Xiaoyu asked in surprise.

Wei Ba was even more astonished. “Who said I’m going to read? I’m going to sleep.”

She glanced at the half-finished stack of documents on the table, her voice hesitant. “Young General… you’re going to rest?”

“Of course,” Wei Ba replied matter-of-factly. “One cannot achieve everything in a single day. Health is the foundation of all things. If you don’t take care of yourself, how can you accomplish anything? Work unfinished today can be done tomorrow, but sleep must not be missed.”

“But… oh, I thought you were going to burn the midnight oil.” Peng Xiaoyu pursed her lips, sounding a bit disappointed. “I heard people say that the Prime Minister is so diligent, always working late into the night.”

“That’s why he died young,” Wei Ba blurted out. “If he’d taken better care of himself and lived a few more years…” Suddenly he realized his words were inappropriate—Zhuge Liang was still alive. Wasn’t he almost cursing him to death? If someone with an agenda heard, this could spell trouble. Rolling his eyes, he quickly added, “Then he could contribute even more to helping His Majesty unify the realm.”

Peng Xiaoyu smiled, covered her mouth, and was about to leave with the bowl and water. But Wei Ba caught her, took the porridge, and downed it in a few quick gulps, wiped his mouth, and tossed the bowl back to her. “All right, prepare some water for me to soak my feet. I want a hot soak before bed.”

Peng Xiaoyu stared in shock. “Young General, since you’re going to sleep, why eat so much porridge?”

“A horse doesn’t grow fat without grazing at night. I’m so frail; of course, I need to eat more.” In his past life, Wei Ba was used to late-night snacks, which led to early weight gain, though he always vowed to change and never did. In this life, he’d mostly kicked the habit, but dinner was always so early that he couldn’t keep going without a little something before bed. Previously, there was no one to prepare late-night food, so he endured it; but now that someone had, not eating would be a waste.

Peng Xiaoyu was speechless but left with the tray and brought back water for his feet. Wei Ba rolled up his trousers, dipped his somewhat numb feet into the hot water, and felt the blood flow revive, sighing with pleasure, “How comfortable, damn, this is really comfortable.”

Peng Xiaoyu looked at him and laughed behind her hand, “Young General, you really are easily satisfied, enjoying a simple foot-soak so much?”

“Of course, contentment is a virtue.” Wei Ba laughed. “Naturally, it would be even better if a beautiful girl gave me a massage.”

Peng Xiaoyu blushed. “That’s a pity. I am neither beautiful nor skilled in massage.”

Wei Ba’s expression turned solemn. “In life, eight or nine things out of ten don’t go as one wishes. You may not be beautiful, but a massage isn’t hard to learn. You should know, the feet are called the body’s second heart. As the saying goes, soak your feet before bed, and you’ll live long free of illness…”

Having enjoyed countless foot massages from pretty girls in his previous life, Wei Ba now expounded at length on the benefits, trying to persuade Peng Xiaoyu. She listened half-believing, and though awkward, seeing he seemed to want it so much, she reluctantly knelt before him and clumsily rubbed his feet.

Her technique was terrible, but watching a young maiden, head bowed, long black hair falling to one side, revealing a slender white neck while washing his feet—without the sight of that unsightly blue birthmark on her face—he could almost imagine her as one of the enchanting attendants from his former life. He felt a decadent thrill. As he instructed her on the massage and spoke further of its benefits, a thought suddenly crossed his mind.

“This foot basin is too small. It’d be much better if it covered the calves too. Remind me tomorrow—I’ll have a proper foot bath made.”

Peng Xiaoyu, bent over his feet for so long that her back ached, heard this and wiped her brow with her sleeve. “Young General, best not say such things in front of Captain Fu. He can’t even wash his own feet right now, let alone enjoy a foot bath.”

Wei Ba fell silent for a moment, then lightly slapped his own cheek. “Good thing you reminded me. Otherwise, I’d have said something thoughtless again tomorrow.”

Hearing the soft slap, Peng Xiaoyu was taken aback. She looked at his regretful expression and stammered, “Young General, I… I was only joking. There’s no need to blame yourself like that.”

“No, this has nothing to do with you. I was just too careless,” Wei Ba said, watching her dry his feet, feeling the brush of softness that sent his mind wandering, while considering how to help Fu Xing. With his leg broken and stuck in the tent, he was surely bored and would become depressed over time. What if his spirit failed just as his body healed?

After a moment, inspiration struck—he’d make a wheelchair for Fu Xing, so he could be pushed outside for fresh air. That would help.

Excited, he grabbed a sheet of paper and began sketching the design, not even bothering to put on his socks. The Han dynasty’s vehicle-making was advanced enough that he only needed to design the wheelchair’s shape; things like axles and bearings were already well understood. Soon, the blueprint was done.

“Young General, is this… the foot bath you mentioned?” Peng Xiaoyu peered over, puzzled.

Wei Ba burst out laughing. “No, this is a wheelchair for Fu Xing. In the future, he can sit in it and you can push him around, so he won’t be bored. If you’re busy, he can move himself.”

Peng Xiaoyu looked at the drawing, then at Wei Ba’s proud face, as if she wanted to say something but hesitated. Wei Ba noticed and asked, “What is it? Do you want to praise me but are embarrassed, afraid I’ll say you’re trying to curry favor?”

Her expression grew even more complicated. She hesitated, then shook her head. “Young General, there’s something I wish to say, though it may not please you…”

“It’s fine, say it. I’ll listen if it suits me, ignore it if not. No harm done.”

Peng Xiaoyu’s eyes flashed as she bit her lip, making up her mind. “Young General, whether it’s the iron spade you made before or this wheelchair, they’re ingenious inventions. If you were an ordinary man, you could make a living from them. But you’re the son of the General Who Guards the North—you don’t need to make a living this way. You should be concerned with greater matters. Isn’t it a waste of your energy to focus on such things?”

“Greater matters?” Wei Ba caught on, eyes flickering. “And what matters do you mean?”

She pointed to the stack of unfinished documents. “These papers, for instance… and also the future of the Wei family, and your own future, Young General.”

Wei Ba laughed to cover his unease. “My father is alive and strong—stronger than I am. My elder brother is grown. They’ll handle the family’s future. I’m just a concubine’s son, in poor health; what can I do? Better to look after my health and enjoy the present. Besides, with my father holding such a high position and the Prime Minister’s favor, the Wei family’s future is bright—what is there to worry about?”

“Not so,” Peng Xiaoyu replied, her brow knitting as she pondered and then spoke softly. “Haven’t you heard the saying, ‘Be vigilant in times of peace’? Those who plan ahead prosper; those who do not, fail. The Wei family may seem secure now, but that doesn’t guarantee lasting prosperity. Calamity can come without warning, fortune can turn overnight. If you don’t prepare, how will you cope when trouble strikes?”

Wei Ba was about to brush her off with a few more perfunctory words, but realized there was sense in her advice. He studied Peng Xiaoyu anew, smiling without revealing his thoughts. “I see I’ve underestimated you. There’s more to you than meets the eye.”

She lowered her head, scrubbing the cloth hard in the basin. After a long moment, she forced a bitter smile. “Young General, don’t forget I’m not a commoner. I’m a government servant from the Logistics Camp. Many of us were once sons and daughters of wealthy families. Some were good-for-nothings, but there were also those with knowledge. After listening so much, I learned a thing or two.”

“In the Logistics Camp, whose families are there? Any relatives of Liao Li?” Wei Ba asked.

“Liao Li?” Peng Xiaoyu thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, I haven’t heard of any of his family in the camp. Why, is something wrong with him too?”

Wei Ba nodded, a subtle smile on his lips. “You said ‘too’—is it because your Peng family is also in that situation?”

Peng Xiaoyu sucked in a sharp breath, her face drained of color, the heat flush replaced by pallor. She stared at him in terror. “Young General, you…”

Wei Ba said nothing, only watched her. She twisted the cloth, her guilt plain, and slowly lowered her head. At length, she put aside the cloth and rolled-down her sleeves. Kneeling formally before him, tears streaming, she choked out, “Young General, I am from the Peng family of Guanghan. I am Peng Yang’s daughter.”