HE With the Cold Male Protagonist C48

Chapter 48: Celebration at the Restaurant, Hooked Beyond Restraint

Old Jiang listened to Jiang Baiye’s impassioned words—so fierce and righteous they even made himself feel less than human. Comparing this with his eldest grandson’s face, steeped in despair and at a complete loss, he felt—for the first time—an unprecedented regret.

Failing to take that second son seriously had been the greatest mistake of his life!

Could he not see how everyone around them gazed upon him with eyes full of admiration—even the Prefect himself…

Old Jiang dared not look again. He quickly lowered his head, cold sweat pouring as he drifted in a daze. Then suddenly Jiang Baiye mentioned him: “I hope my lord will be lenient with my grandfather. He is old in years and was gravely ill not long ago.”

At these words, who would not praise him as “kind” and “filial”? At once Old Jiang received “special attention” from Prefect Yan.

In view of his ignorance of the matter, and because the victim himself had pleaded for him, the Prefect struck his gavel harshly but spared him with only twenty strokes of the cane.

“Tw–twenty strokes!?”

“Carry it out at once!” Prefect Yan slammed the block of wood. Because this case involved Doctor Hu and the He family, and even those bandits, he had not slept the entire night before.

Fortunately, the youth below was cooperative, not like others who stammered and trembled without uttering a full sentence, nor like other victims whose overbearing emotions dragged the process endlessly.

He simply spoke the facts. Even kneeling, he did not seem one bit lesser than others.

The Prefect regarded him with more scrutiny.

Indeed, he had fine features, upright eyes, and extraordinary spirit!

Old Jiang was dragged down to be punished on the spot, crying in agony and utterly disgraced. He fainted midway through, only for Madam Li and the still untreated Jiang Dashan to be brought forward.

This time it was heavier: fifty strokes!

Jiang Yueming knelt on the cold floor of the prefectural hall, but it was not as cold as his heart. He was filled with remorse and hatred.

Not remorse for wrongdoing—remorse that he had not thought carefully enough to uproot Jiang Baiye completely. Remorse that he had trusted Doctor Hu’s lies, when he should have followed his own plan!

Few survive government caning. Thirty strokes rend the flesh; fifty strokes leave one bloody and faint.

Madam Li and Jiang Dashan were beaten until they were raw and mangled, fainting from the pain.

Meanwhile, the Prefect’s interrogation continued. “Jiang Yueming, you are unworthy as a scholar. Decades of study, yet your nature is corrupt…”

When he heard, “Stripped of scholar’s status, forever barred from the examinations,” Jiang Yueming nearly spat blood, collapsing prostrate in panic. “My lord, this student—”

“Drag him out for caning! And imprisonment of three years!”

This time it was one hundred strokes—almost certain death. But Jiang Yueming no longer cared. If he could not sit the exams, what meaning did life hold?

He stared vacantly, watching those around him bend and shiver, watching Jiang Baiye stand solemn in the center of the hall, praised again and again, watching the crowd of commoners outside the doors, and—worse—his fellow students in scholar’s robes.

Those from the Mingli Academy pointed and whispered, aghast and incredulous.

Dragged down without mercy, his robe torn aside, he caught sight of Lu Lizhi in the corner—still the same tall figure, pure and noble as moonlit breeze.

Now he looked upon him calmly, unperturbed, yet with an air as though everything lay within his grasp, far above…

No, he would not yield!

He could not lose like this—least of all to two who should have been crushed beneath him!

As he thought so, others bled beneath the rod, but he spat blood of his own, face flushed. Each strike shattered his pride. After forty strokes he was already semi-conscious, still muttering without awareness: I cannot lose…

Madam Feng, Feng Lan’er, and Xuanzi—though victims and witnesses—were pale with hidden guilt. Before the Prefect could even question them, Madam Feng fainted outright.

On the surface they had no crime, so the Prefect dismissed them. The two surviving bandits were sentenced to execution. But when it came to Doctor Hu, the most crucial figure, the Prefect’s head began to ache.

Jiang Baiye’s dark eyes bore into him, demanding justice.

The truth was plain—he should have ruled swiftly, as before.

But anger stirred in the Prefect. Did this youth not know that rigidness leads to breaking? Could he imagine the trouble and danger his case brought to a fourth-rank official?

A single doctor was no threat. Physicians had never held much status. What was terrifying was Doctor Hu’s master—an imperial court physician. That aged man might soon retire, and Hu could be his successor…

Though the palace had many physicians, each faction and method was few. That lineage, practiced by only a handful, carried great weight.

Such calculations stayed unspoken.

Yet when he saw the youth lower his eyes, saw the bitter smile at his lips, saw the clenched fists and silent endurance—

There was no pleading, no wailing, no clamor for fairness.

Only silence—an unvoiced lash that struck harder than words, leaving the Prefect uneasy and weary.

Doctor Hu sensed this, straightened his back, and swiftly glanced at the Prefect’s aide.

Assistant Magistrate Chen, his deputy and monitor, leaned in to whisper.

The hall’s uproar suddenly hushed, though expectation pressed thick. Shopkeeper Tian and others dared hope, holding their breath.

The atmosphere froze.

Baiye sighed inwardly, halting his act. He had guessed the outcome—power and influence bound all. To tug one thread shook the whole.

If he wanted fairness, he must climb higher than his foe.

Just as the Prefect prepared to stall and order detention, a figure in white appeared faintly outside, stirring his heart. For a moment, he seemed to glimpse his own youthful oath from his student days.

His original vow, long buried beneath the grime of office.

That man so resembled him—and yet so unlike him.

The longer the delay, the more restless the hall became. Doctor Hu’s smirk spread, nearing triumph. He even cast Jiang Baiye a mocking glance. Baiye lowered his eyes, already planning how to resolve this trouble.

Then the Prefect struck his block. “Silence!”

His voice rang out: “The Shanyi Hall of Changlin County has defied the law, colluding with bandits, plotting murder. From this day forth, Shanyi Hall is closed, never to reopen. All involved are forever forbidden to practice medicine. The instigator, Hu Yaowei, will receive one hundred strokes and imprisonment, trial to follow!”

The verdict boomed across the hall. Doctor Hu’s face turned ashen.

Impossible! Why this sudden turn? To strip his license and mete out a hundred strokes was to ruin him!

Assistant Magistrate Chen started in surprise, moving to protest, but the Prefect waved him off.

Shopkeeper Tian collapsed in despair. He had known nothing, yet his right to practice medicine was stripped forever…

But outside, the gathered townsfolk erupted in cheers. Evil punished, victims avenged—it was as though justice was theirs, relief and joy overflowing!

And the man who had swayed it all brushed his sleeve and departed soundlessly.

Baiye instantly guessed who it was, turning sharply, catching only a fluttering hem.

It was his Lizhi. His Lizhi, whose father was the Prefect’s junior, whose brilliance the Prefect admired, whose virtue made him proud.

In time, he would be the Prefect’s student. His examinations and official career would have such a benefactor.

The book had said: Seeing him, Prefect Yan always recalled his youthful vow with his junior at Wuqu Pavilion—to set his heart for Heaven and Earth, to secure life for the people, to continue the teachings of the sages, to open peace for all generations.[2]

Lu Lizhi was the clear stream in the Prefect’s heart, keeping him near to his original oath.

Others gazed upon him with awe. But Jiang Baiye only wanted to stain him with his own color, to make him his, and felt thrilled by it!

Though the Prefect spared a margin for Hu Yaowei, he had already offended greatly by this ruling.

Even Master He was astonished, mouth agape. Could the old fox Yan still be this upright?

What on earth was Jiang Baiye’s true background?

He Lin, though, spotted Lu Lizhi and quickly pursued.

Seeing this, Baiye grew anxious, but the case was not yet closed.

Hu Yaowei clamored, refusing the verdict, demanding retrial. He sought only to stall, waiting for rescue.

But the hundred strokes were inevitable, executed on the spot, without mercy.

By the time the proceedings ended, the crowd dispersed. Baiye rushed outside, but the two were gone.

Master He, curious, summoned his servants, wishing to speak with Baiye. Yet he watched as the youth—so composed and unflustered in court—bolted like a man who had lost his treasure.

At the gates of the Prefect’s residence, Lu Lizhi waited, a scroll tucked in his sleeve—a gift for the Prefect.

It was a piece of calligraphy.

Not his own, but his father’s.

Once the Prefect had asked him for it several times. It was a rare work, written in a unique style during a special time, the only one of its kind.

Lu Lizhi had never parted with it, even at the risk of offending the Prefect.

But now he brought it, ready to offer it in thanks should the Prefect aid him.

As he waited, He Lin suddenly appeared, breathless. “Lu—Lu student, you walk too fast! I’ve searched everywhere!”

Lizhi’s face was cool, not sparing him a glance.

He Lin, oblivious to the chill deepening around him, poured out his warmth, chatting incessantly—from astronomy to geography, and then, slyly, to the famed “Lord Qingyuan” and recent storybooks.

“My father is enthralled with Asking of Romance. When he learned there’s a sequel, he was so delighted he didn’t even scold my little brother for breaking his treasure!”

Lizhi remained cold, uncertain of his aim. But the thought of his cooperation with Baiye, their mutual aid, his feeding Baiye that day…

He Lin shivered under the frost of his aura, finally sensing rejection. Awkwardly he stammered, “I only admire Lord Qingyuan, the world he writes of. To befriend such a man must be wonderful. Don’t you think?”

Lizhi scrutinized him.

Then suddenly, a hand reached from behind, shoving He Lin aside and seizing Lizhi’s wrist.

“What are you doing?” Baiye smiled darkly. “Talking requires such closeness?”

He Lin nearly stumbled, staring at Baiye pressed up against him. “?”

Even Lizhi thought Baiye strange, trying to free the hand at his waist, but Baiye only gripped tighter, ready to assert his claim—until a sedan chair approached. At once he released him, face proper, no trace of jealousy.

He Lin looked between them, sensing a bond he could not fathom, intimate and excluding him.

Damn Jiang Baiye! He had lied, saying he wasn’t close to Lu Lizhi, when clearly they were inseparable!

No matter. He would force himself into their circle, be their brother—he swore it!

It was Prefect Yan who had arrived. They bowed, and he invited Lu Lizhi inside to speak of his studies.

At the gate, He Lin stroked his chin, thoughtful. “The Prefect seems to value Lu student highly. I’m even more curious now.”

“Smack!” A heavy slap landed on his shoulder, making him wince. “Curious, are you?”

“What’s with you?” He Lin found the man oddly sour.

“Only I am allowed to be curious about him.”

“Why? You’re being unreasonable!”

Baiye strode ahead, waving casually. “Come, let’s eat and celebrate. I’ll also tell you what I meant before.”

He Lin straightened, though with regretful glances at the Prefect’s residence. Lizhi’s icy nature would take much effort to approach. How had Baiye done it?

Before leaving, Baiye left a message with the gatekeeper, asking him to tell Lizhi his whereabouts, lest he worry.

“But if it gets too late, have him meet me at the inn from last time.”

He knew he wouldn’t return home tonight. The case had dragged until afternoon, and after supper it would be inconvenient.

If Lizhi stayed with him… Baiye shook his head violently, banishing the thought.

He invited Master He as well.

The old man greeted him with a jest: “Have you found your treasure?”

Baiye froze, then shot a sharp look at He Lin. “I have. But the feeling of others coveting it makes me anxious. Tell me, Master He, what should I do?”

The youth was even testing him now! Master He made a throat-slitting gesture. “Cut them down.”

He Lin shuddered.

“Excellent idea!” Baiye’s eyes lit up. He shifted at once. “That is the only way to treat Shanyi Hall.”

He emphasized “only.” Father and son thought it excessive, shocked by his ruthless tone.

“I have a feeling Shanyi Hall is laying a grand scheme. Sending Doctor Hu here, planning a new hall—there must be more to come. And we have already ruined their plan.” Baiye frowned.

The Hes were dumbfounded. They could not imagine what Shanyi Hall might do.

“Perhaps it’s only my suspicion.” Baiye waved off his unease. “But I won’t be beaten passively again, nor let others suffer because I’m unprepared. If you’re willing, I can offer a divine prescription, one that can cure—”

He lowered his voice, wary of eavesdroppers. Even so, Master He dropped his teacup in shock.

He dared…!

At that moment, the waiter knocked and brought in dishes.

Baiye smiled easily. “Let’s eat first. We’ll talk after.”

Master He glared at him in exasperation. To say such words, then calmly dine—who had the stomach for that?

Compared to his caution, He Lin was bold. His eyes shone with ambition.

Zui Xiao Pavilion was the largest restaurant in the city, famed for its cuisine. He Lin had long been a regular, but now found it tasteless. “Father, you’ve no appetite only because you aren’t eating Baiye’s cooking. Otherwise you’d not fret so.”

Master He: “…” Two reckless boys—fearless calves before tigers!

Baiye truly was grateful. Without the He family, the case might never have reached trial. Without Lizhi’s hidden aid, Doctor Hu might have slipped away unscathed.

Unready, he would have been helpless against Hu’s swift retaliation. Now Hu was punished, too busy saving himself to lash back. This was the best outcome.

Baiye lifted the wine and poured for them. With cups exchanged, Master He too grew bolder.

“What you suggest requires careful planning. But if successful, Huichun Hall will…” His eyes gleamed with hope.

“But if we fail…” It would not just ruin Huichun Hall—it might doom their whole lineage.

“I would never gamble with the lives of those I care for. The prescription is sound. The rest depends on your schemes. There will be dangers…”

Baiye believed his knowledge of the story could help.

Master He hesitated, but Baiye requested brush and ink, writing the formula for him. “Keep it. Even if you never use it for that noble, it will still save common lives.”

He Lin accepted it reverently, as if it were holy writ. Compared to Baiye’s earlier formulas, this one was far weightier.

Thus they did not take it as a gift, but paid five thousand taels—a high price even then, and less than it was worth.

Master He fretted deeply, but with He Lin’s ambition, the He family might change.

That night, Baiye drank heavily again. He Lin believed it was to celebrate the punishment of villains, but Baiye also celebrated… gaining Lu Lizhi.

And, with drink as excuse, to do a little mischief.

Lizhi must wait for him—must not return to the village alone…

Night fell. The city bustled brighter than day.

Baiye stuffed the He family’s banknote carelessly into his robe, eager to depart.

He Lin, flushed with drink, stumbled after him. Just as he nearly caught up, he saw a carriage outside Zui Xiao Pavilion.

The curtain lifted, revealing a figure of pure grace. Baiye’s eyes were instantly caught.

“Lizhi… you came to fetch me?”

Lizhi’s face was cool.

Then He Lin watched Baiye, grinning foolishly, climb into the carriage and fall into that man’s arms.

“How strange… I must see again.” He rubbed his eyes, staring as the curtain swayed. The two within collided, tangled together.

Sensing his gaze, Lizhi looked over, fingers brushing Baiye’s cheek.

Baiye was utterly hooked, reaching for his hand, only to have his lips seized instead. That was the last sight He Lin saw.

The carriage rolled away, taking with it his gnawing curiosity. He chased a few steps, crying, “Take me! Let me join! I want to be your friend too!”

He tripped himself and sprawled, pitiful as a ball, carried off by the He family steward.

The carriage had been hired by Lizhi. He did not go to the inn—the place carried bad memories. More importantly, Baiye’s parents waited anxiously for explanation.

This thought weighed on him. He understood too well: had it been his own son, he too would resist such a match. No heirs, only scorn.

But all those worries were undone by Baiye’s sudden act, melted into a soft hum…

The night deepened. Lanterns swayed on the carriage, casting faint light upon the road ahead.

Inside, a wordless struggle smoldered to its limits.

[2] This famous maxim is from Zhang Zai, a great Northern Song philosopher. Later called the “Four Sentences of Hengqu,” it

has been celebrated for centuries for its brevity and grandeur.