Chapter 202: Using a Cat to Command a Scholar! (1 / 2)

The old emperor coughed lightly, drawing Xu Yanmiao’s attention. “Minister Xu…”

Xu Yanmiao straightened up immediately. “Yes, Your Majesty!”

His enthusiasm was visibly higher than before.

The old emperor, speaking in a measured tone, asked, “Do you know how to make cat food?”

Xu Yanmiao replied honestly, “I don’t.”

The emperor pressed on. “Then…”

Before the emperor could finish, Xu Yanmiao instinctively continued, “But I have a cook at home. Perhaps he knows how.”

The emperor raised an eyebrow. “And if he doesn’t?”

Xu Yanmiao hesitated, then reluctantly said, “Then I’ll learn myself…”

The old emperor chuckled knowingly. “Do you know there are shops in the capital that sell cat food?”

Xu Yanmiao’s eyes lit up with interest.

The emperor continued, “Compared to dried fish or pork liver, it’s best to feed cats raw meat. A cat needs about half a pound of raw meat a day—that’s 45 qian. Over a month, that adds up to over 1,300 qian. You—”

The emperor’s gaze swept over Xu Yanmiao from head to toe before giving an ambiguous smile. “Now that you’re an official, you can afford to raise a cat.”

Xu Yanmiao silently hugged the gold-devouring creature in his arms tighter.

The emperor suddenly sighed, “But after all, animals aren’t like humans. You can command a person to eat on time, but you can’t force a cat. If you bring home raw meat and it doesn’t want to eat, you’ll have to put in extra effort. Nowadays, families in the capital who raise cats prepare clay pots. They place charcoal inside and then the cat’s food, which keeps it fresh.”

Xu Yanmiao’s knowledge from school wasn’t entirely forgotten, and he vaguely recalled that charcoal worked by absorbing moisture.

The emperor added, “So, you’ll need to budget for buying charcoal too.”

Xu Yanmiao hugged the little kitten tighter, trembling slightly.

The emperor continued mercilessly, “It’s still small now, but it will grow up eventually. When that happens, the cost of neutering a cat… hmm…”

Xu Yanmiao had already started frantically calculating his salary in his mind.

—Though the emperor’s rewards and the princess’s gifts were still sitting unused at his house, he couldn’t just sit back and eat through his savings!

The emperor, as if determined to twist the knife, added, “As an official, if you have business to attend to in other regions, you can’t take the cat with you. You’ll have to hire someone to come to your house and feed it. That’s another expense…”

“And what about buying a little blanket for it?”

[Are you buying catnip?]

“You don’t know how to paint either, but have you thought about hiring someone to capture your cat’s daily antics in a painting for your enjoyment?”

Each sentence felt like a heavy boulder of life’s burdens crashing down on Xu Yanmiao, squashing the little figure in his heart.

The old emperor smiled kindly. “Minister Xu, I have a task for you—help with the history compilation. Do you happen to have some free time?”

[I knew it! When someone shows unsolicited kindness, they’re either up to no good or scheming!]

[Using a cat to control a scholar—classic!]

Xu Yanmiao choked back his grievances and replied, “I’ll take it!”

The fluffy white lion-cat licked its paw, mewing softly, then rubbed its head against its new owner’s hand, savoring the affection.

After temporarily entrusting the clingy kitten to a eunuch, Xu Yanmiao asked for directions several times and finally arrived outside Wenhua Hall.

“History compilation… this should be the place.”

Inside, over 300 historians bustled about—some scribbling furiously, their brushes flying across the paper; others rummaging through bookshelves, sleeves stained with ink without a care. One person held a sheet of still-wet paper, a delighted grin plastered on his face. Another, with dark circles under his eyes from sleepless nights, frowned as he searched the wall of books for something.

As Xu Yanmiao entered, his shadow fell across one historian, who was jotting down something with a pained expression. Sensing someone nearby, the historian spoke abruptly without looking up, “Could you grab the Records of Chu: Geographical Annals for me? It’s in the Ding cabinet, third shelf from the bottom, twelfth book from the left.”

Xu Yanmiao responded, “Sure.”@@novelbin@@

“?!”

The historian snapped his head around so quickly he nearly sprained his neck. “Xu Yanmiao? What are you doing here all of a sudden?”

Though startled, his voice wasn’t loud.

Xu Yanmiao explained calmly, “His Majesty sent me to work on the History of Zhou.”

“Thud—” The historian staggered, bumping into the desk. His arm hit the brush holder, sending it clattering to the floor, scattering brushes everywhere.

The commotion drew attention. “What happened—wait, Xu Yanmiao?!”

This exclamation was louder than the historian’s, and it caused several people in the hall to audibly gasp.

A beam of light filtered through the window, casting across Xu Yanmiao’s face, highlighting his puzzled expression.

The historian who had knocked over the brush holder looked unusually excited. “People always say you’re incredibly handsome. I’ve always wondered just how handsome, but seeing you in person today—wow!”

Xu Yanmiao froze for a moment, then blushed slightly. “Thank you for the compliment.”

The historian, who had only said that as a makeshift excuse, paused awkwardly. His experience in compiling histories kicked in, and he subconsciously thought: If I ever write a biography for Minister Xu, I must use the words ‘peerlessly elegant and striking.’

Meanwhile, the head of the compilation effort, Supervisor Song Qi, noticed the commotion and sternly emerged from the back. However, upon seeing Xu Yanmiao, he nearly broke into a smile.

Ah, so this was what caused the fuss—it was the renowned “little Bai Ze.”

When one’s heart is clear, there’s no fear of shadows. What’s there to panic about? Even if little Bai Ze couldn’t find any faults, directing his attention to the imperial family could be a blessing in disguise, preventing greater calamities.

Under the admiring gazes of the other historians, Song Qi calmly approached Xu Yanmiao and asked, “Minister Xu, are you here to fetch a book? Or to find someone?”

Xu Yanmiao cheerfully said, “His Majesty sent me to compile the History of Zhou.”

Thud!

This time, it wasn’t a brush holder that fell—it was the chief historian himself, collapsing to the ground with a loud bang as his head hit the floor.

Xu Yanmiao: “!!!”

What just happened?!

Xu Yanmiao panicked. “Get the imperial physician! Quick, call the physician! Don’t move him!”

While waiting for the physician to arrive, Xu Yanmiao curiously asked the other historians, “Who is that?”

Why did he faint as soon as he heard I was here to compile history?

The historian he asked gave an awkward smile. “That’s the chief historian overseeing the compilation. He’s from the Song clan of Guangping.”

Noticing Xu Yanmiao’s persistent confusion, the historian explained further, “The Song clan of Guangping is a prominent family from Dunhuang.”

Xu Yanmiao was now tasked with compiling history. And not just any history—he was to work on the history of the previous dynasty.

The most dramatic reactions came from the hundred-year-old noble families.

—Ever since the barbarians invaded the Central Plains and decimated the old aristocratic clans, no millennium-old families had survived since the Zhou dynasty.

These noble families, with members serving as officials in the current court, wept and wailed in protest. They were utterly opposed to Xu Yanmiao’s involvement in the compilation, some even close to declaring to the emperor: “If you let him work on this history, I’ll hang myself at the palace gates!”

One notable family was the Zhu clan of Yiwu. During the previous dynasty, they had produced three grand Prime Ministers and numerous other officials, maintaining their prominence for thirteen generations. In the new dynasty, the Zhu family still had seven members serving as court officials, all having passed the imperial examination.

Two of them were regulars at the Hall of Martial Brilliance.

One such member, Zhu Tingxun, the 74-year-old Chief Academic Officer of the Hanlin Academy, with his beard now fully white, knelt in the Hall of Martial Brilliance and wailed, “Your Majesty! I’m in the twilight of my years and wish only to live out my days in peace. I have no desire to know whether my ancestors had remarkable tales or romantic escapades, nor do I wish to discover which scandalous rumors about them are true!”

The old emperor remained impassive. “Minister Zhu, you must understand—true gold fears no fire.”