Chapter 17: The Mystery Mansion Has a New Owner

The grandest, most mysterious mansion in Da Liu Tree Village had suddenly found a master.

For a moment, the whole village buzzed with fresh gossip—everyone eager to chew on the juicy details.

"Grandpa said the man who built this place was a general," one villager whispered.

"A general? Why would a general come all the way out here to build a house?"

"How should I know? Ask your grandpa then."

"Go ahead! You want a beating? Your grandpa’s been dead for decades!"

...

Little Tangbao clung to Old Su, her tiny ears perked up like radar dishes, soaking in every word.

At the center of it all: the man in the carriage.

The carriage had rolled straight into the mansion’s gates, leaving behind a trail of wide-eyed stares and endless speculation.

But no one knew—beneath the quiet surface of the village, the capital was in chaos.

One night, the crown prince was deposed. High-ranking officials were stripped of power. The court trembled with fear. Blood ran cold in the halls of power.

Yet none of that touched this secluded mountain hamlet.

Life went on as usual—people ate, drank, argued over nothing, and lived their days like water flowing down a stream.

***

Little Tangbao tilted her head, staring at the scarlet front gate.

Should she knock? Or knock again?

“Sis,” Su Liuhu crouched before her, eyes full of fake sorrow. “Let’s go home. I’ll go find you bird eggs.”

He’d finally gotten a chance to take his little sister out for some fun.

And what did she do? Snatched a handful of wild grass and marched straight toward the big house to feed the horse.

He wanted to see the horse too—but look at that gate.

Tall. Imposing. Majestic.

He admired it from afar, but also feared it.

Then—*creak*—the gate swung open.

A man stepped out, blinking in surprise.

“Little girl… what are you doing?” Wang Zhong stood there, startled by the sight of the tiny figure in front of him.

Tangbao instantly flashed her most disarming smile—a grin so sweet it could melt stone.

“Uncle,” she chirped, voice soft as cotton candy, “feed the horse-horse.”

She nearly shivered at how awkward it sounded.

So she took a breath, corrected herself with the urgency of someone trying to fix a mistake mid-sentence:

“Feed the big—horse!”

Hooray! She’d managed three different words in one sentence! Granted, she stumbled halfway through.

Proud of herself, she held up her little basket.

Inside: a meager pile of tender green grass.

Su Liuhu stared at the pitiful amount. His face flushed.

That wasn’t even enough for a single bite. Even a lame excuse wouldn’t pass for this.

But Wang Zhong just chuckled.

“Thank you, little miss,” he said warmly. “Come on in.”

“Mmm-hmm!” Tangbao bounced forward on her short legs, climbing the steps like a determined ant.

This uncle was nice. Really nice. Kind-looking. Gentle.

“Sis, let me carry you,” Su Liuhu quickly scooped her up.

He hadn’t expected it to be *this* easy to get inside.

His eyes sparkled with excitement.

“No, brother,” Tangbao squirmed. “I can walk.”

She wasn’t comfortable—he was still just a kid himself, holding her all wrong.

Wang Zhong noticed right away.

“Here, let Uncle hold you,” he said, reaching out.

Su Liuhu tightened his grip like a vice, glaring at Wang Zhong like he was a kidnapper.

His sister wasn’t going to anyone’s arms—not even if they smiled kindly.

(Though honestly, he’d already walked through the gate. Wasn’t it a bit late to start doubting now?)

But Tangbao saw it differently.

Free help? Why not use it?

She stretched her little arms toward Wang Zhong.

And off they went—straight to the back courtyard.

From the pocket of her tiny dress, Tangbao pulled out a single piece of malt sugar.

“Uncle,” she said, offering it like a sacred gift, “sweetie.”

Then she shoved it right into his mouth.

People carried us. We should give them something sweet in return, right?

Sometimes, a sugar-coated bribe is the only language that works.

After all, she planned to visit Red Red—her nickname for the big black stallion—whenever she felt like it.

“Such a good girl,” Wang Zhong grinned, teeth showing, even though the candy was cheap and low-grade.

Usually, he’d spit it out without a second thought.

But today? He just… put it in his mouth.

Su Liuhu stayed stiff-faced, trailing behind like a shadow, terrified Wang Zhong might run off with his sister.

Then he saw Tangbao hand the man a candy.

His heart sank.

Even though she shared everything with him—she always gave him half—she never once offered anything to *him*.

Now this old man, wrinkled and gray, was eating her candy.

Those sweets were bought specially by their mother in town, just for her.

Jealousy boiled in Su Liuhu’s chest.

He muttered under his breath: “Hmph. Eating kids’ candy? Don’t you have any shame?”

No one got to touch his sister’s things.

Wang Zhong twitched his ear—pretended not to hear.

Instead, he called over a young servant behind him.

“Go tell the kitchen to prepare some pastries, fruits, and snacks. Bring them to the pavilion in the back garden.”

“Yes, sir.”

The boy bowed and hurried off.

“Red Red… Red Red…” Tangbao squealed the moment she saw the towering black stallion.

The horse lifted its head, let out a long, echoing whinny—like it recognized her voice.

Wang Zhong’s eyes flickered.

Something was off.

Black Wind—the horse—was notoriously proud, untamable, never letting anyone near.

Yet now, it acted like a puppy around this tiny girl.

He’d noticed it the first time he saw her.

That’s why he’d brought her in without hesitation.

Otherwise, he’d never let just anyone cross his threshold.

As Tangbao approached, Black Wind nuzzled her gently with its massive head.

Still in Wang Zhong’s arms, Tangbao reached into her basket and handed the stallion the tiniest bit of grass—just enough to fill a horse’s tooth gap.

“Red Red, eat grass-grass.”

The horse didn’t care about the portion. It ate it calmly, almost affectionately.

Wang Zhong stared, stunned.

Was this really Black Wind?

Back when the general had tried to tame him, it had taken months—blood, sweat, and broken bones.

Now? A child with a handful of weeds and a smile.

He looked at Tangbao with new curiosity.

Su Liuhu had forgotten his anger.

All he could think about was the horse.

His eyes glowed with desire—like a man seeing his dream car for the first time.

In this era, men loved horses the way modern men love sports cars.

“Sis,” he breathed, awestruck. “This is Red Red—so tall! So big!”

He reached out, fingers trembling.

Almost touched it—then pulled back, afraid.

But his eyes betrayed him.

Gathering courage, he reached again.

Black Wind suddenly jerked, pawing the ground with a thunderous kick.

Its expression turned fierce—dangerous.

Even Tangbao felt the shift.

Su Liuhu yelped and stumbled backward, nearly falling.

Tangbao patted the horse’s head gently.

“Red Red, be good,” she cooed, voice sweet as honey.

Instantly, the stallion calmed.

Peace returned. The air softened.

And somewhere deep inside, a mystery stirred—unseen, unspoken, but undeniable.