Chapter 29: My Master is a Martial Scholar

The guest hall of the Huang Residence was noticeably more lavish than that of the Li Manor or the Dan Family Stronghold.

The furniture and decor were of superior craftsmanship, with porcelain ornaments stamped with imperial kiln seals, and calligraphy and paintings on the walls bearing the signatures of renowned contemporary artists. The centerpiece was a majestic landscape painting, a work of none other than Grand Scholar Ouyang, a name revered both in court and among the literati.

Wei Tu believed that his silent response should have made Master Huang understand—he had no interest in climbing the social ladder through the Huang family.

“Wei Ge’er, are you interested in calligraphy and painting?” Master Huang chuckled, assuming that, like many poor scholars and martial artists, Wei Tu was merely pretending to appreciate fine art to seem more refined.

Wei Tu shook his head.

He understood that Master Huang had already formed his own biased opinion about him.

It was the same as when First Madam Li Tongshi had struggled to believe he was serious about taking the martial examination—despite his clear and rational explanations.

Master Huang’s expression darkened slightly as he set his teacup down. “Wei Ge’er, do you wish to hire a renowned master to study martial arts and military strategy, to improve your chances in future examinations?”

Master Huang respected ambition. He admired those who understood the value of titles and status—for wealth was fleeting, but a title in the martial examination system could open limitless opportunities.

But seeing Wei Tu's unabashed greed left Master Huang feeling uneasy.

It meant the Huang family would need to invest far more resources into him to keep him satisfied.

Outside, the northern wind howled, rustling the withered bamboo leaves in the courtyard. The fading sunlight streamed through the lattice windows, casting a golden hue upon Wei Tu’s expression, making his momentary surprise clearly visible even to the maids standing outside.

Wei Tu looked directly at Master Huang, his tone steady. “There’s no need for you to concern yourself with that, Uncle. My master is already teaching me, so I won’t require instruction from the Huang family.”

For a moment, silence filled the hall.

Why did Master Huang immediately assume he needed to hire a mentor?

It made no sense to Wei Tu.

“A master? But surely not a renowned one. After all, your martial arts skills could not have been developed without some kind of teacher.”

Master Huang wasn’t surprised at Wei Tu’s claim—after all, none of the county's elite recognized his master’s name. The consensus among the gentry was that Wei Tu had no formal master, at least not one of notable reputation.

There was a significant difference between a teacher and a renowned mentor.

Hearing these words, Wei Tu stood up, adjusted his posture, and respectfully bowed. “Uncle, my master is indeed a renowned figure. I would appreciate it if you chose your words carefully.”

If Master Huang had merely belittled him, he could ignore it. Family members often clashed over differences in background and temperament.

But belittling his master was another matter entirely.

At best, it was an insult.

At worst, it was a grievous offense, one that could never be forgiven.

The hall fell into complete silence.

Outside the doorway, Cui Liu, one of Wei Hong’s personal maids, grew anxious.

Wei Tu’s blunt response was an outright challenge to Master Huang.

She understood how much effort it had taken Second Madam Wei Hong to get Master Huang to accept Wei Tu as a relative.

At this moment, Wei Tu’s status was nowhere near comparable to that of Master Huang. If Master Huang had recognized him as a nephew, it was because Second Madam Wei Hong had pleaded on his behalf.

But now?

Wei Tu’s words had completely ruined her efforts—and perhaps even jeopardized her own standing.

How could Cui Liu not be worried?

“…I was impolite,” Master Huang said, his eyes narrowing slightly, his expression darkening.

Though his tone remained measured, it was clear that he was no longer pleased.

He picked up his teacup, took a slow sip, and then subtly signaled the maids to begin ushering Wei Tu out.

Just as the maid was about to speak, using Master Huang’s supposed fatigue as an excuse to send him away, Wei Tu spoke again.

“Uncle, my master is Single Martial Scholar Dan Wu Ju of Sanyuan Township. Would that not qualify him as a renowned mentor?”

His voice was calm and even.

The maid froze, instantly lowering her head and stepping aside.

The title of Martial Scholar carried little weight in the imperial court—after all, there were many ranks above it.

But Master Huang was not an official.

He was merely a wealthy merchant, his status respectable but far from the level of a high-ranking official or a noble family.

Unlike civil scholars who must wait for an official appointment from the Ministry of Personnel, martial scholars can be directly appointed as military officers upon passing the examination, immediately assuming positions at the local level.

If Master Huang had to show respect to civil scholars, how much more so for a martial scholar?

“So… Wei Ge’er’s master is Single Martial Scholar Dan Wu Ju? Looks like… I misjudged the situation. I nearly made a well-intended mistake.”

Master Huang’s expression shifted again, his face breaking into a smile.

He took another sip from his exquisite Yunwu tea, worth three taels of silver per ounce, using the action to conceal his embarrassment and the cold sweat forming on his back.

An ordinary disciple of a martial scholar meant nothing—not a direct heir, unable to inherit wealth or prestige.

But a disciple who could lift a five-hundred-jin stone lock?

That was different.

That was the making of a future martial scholar!

And an exceptionally young one at that—not even thirty.

Since ancient times, commoners never triumphed over officials.

Master Huang understood the consequences of offending someone who could one day hold official power, even if his future post had no direct control over merchants like himself.

After all, bureaucrats protected their own, and authority could be borrowed.

Even if Wei Tu couldn’t destroy the Huang family, he could still cause them irreparable damage—a risk that Master Huang could not afford to take.

As for whether Wei Tu was lying about his master?

Master Huang didn't think he would dare joke about something like this.

Furthermore, if it weren’t true, Wei Tu wouldn’t have so confidently refused his offer to hire a prestigious instructor.

“Uncle is being too polite.” Wei Tu sat down again and took a sip of the Yunwu tea.

Ever since arriving in the county, his calm demeanor around the Li family and the Huang family came not just from his martial confidence, but also from his background confidence.

With his master’s reputation, he could now speak as an equal with figures like Master Huang and Master Li Yaozu.

“Wei Ge’er, do you feel confident about passing the martial examination this time?” Master Huang resumed his composure, smiling as he asked.

“Hard to say…” Wei Tu shook his head.

“With a first-class result in the stone-lifting exam, even if I perform poorly in other categories, I should still qualify for the prefectural exam.”

“But the prefectural examination is far more competitive. I can't say for certain whether I will secure a scholar’s title.”

As he spoke, he adjusted his phrasing, switching from “Wei Ge’er” to “Nephew”, making the conversation feel more familiar and respectful.

Inside the hall, the two continued their conversation in an increasingly cordial tone.

Not long after, Wei Hong entered, leading a young boy in a blue robe toward Wei Tu. She stopped beside him and gently nudged the boy forward, instructing, “Yuan Shan, greet your cousin.”

Just a quarter-hour earlier, she had rushed to the back courtyard upon hearing from Cui Liu that Wei Tu was Dan Wu Ju’s disciple.

Without hesitation, she dragged Huang Yuan Shan—who had been napping—over to formally acknowledge his cousin.

“Cousin.”

Huang Yuan Shan greeted him reluctantly, his tone lacking enthusiasm.

“You brat.”

Wei Hong twisted Huang Yuan Shan’s ear, her annoyance clear.

“Second Aunt, Yuan Shan is still young.” Wei Tu chuckled.

Only then did he notice that Wei Hong’s makeup looked different from when he had seen her earlier at the Chenghuang Temple.

Wei Tu did not realize that Wei Hong had deliberately reapplied her Golden Swallow Rouge makeup to impress him.

He simply assumed that wealthy households had more elaborate customs and that changing makeup before meeting guests was part of proper etiquette.

Thus, after a brief glance, he shifted his gaze away without further thought.