When it came to business, Du Cheng could talk a good game, but when push came to shove, he was utterly clueless. After all, he was just a thief. In his past life, he’d never studied the art of commerce. Fortunately, the Saint Kain family had a wealth of enterprises and seasoned talent. Leveraging his status as the eldest son, Steve recruited a few experienced merchants to handle the preliminary setup for Du Cheng.
As for what kind of business to run, Du Cheng knew little about the trade dynamics of the Ains Continent. So, he played the hands-off boss, delegating everything to his hired merchants. With His Majesty Balgna’s endorsement and the Prime Minister’s stake in the venture, even if someone dared skim profits, they wouldn’t dream of usurping control.
For the same reasons, the government of Saint John’s, the imperial capital, gave Du Cheng’s enterprise the green light—land grants, tax exemptions, and even suppressing competitors. In just ten days, his charitable foundation was up and running.
On October 6, 1277, in the Fallen God Calendar, South Saint John’s buzzed with activity.
Seven or eight thousand beggars and vagrants gathered in a plaza, their gaunt faces and tattered clothes a stark contrast to the hope in their eyes. They stared at Du Cheng, standing on a makeshift stage in the plaza’s center, and at the cauldrons and bread baskets below.
“Greetings, everyone! I’m Francis!” Du Cheng raised his arms, grinning as he waved to the crowd.
“Virtue! Virtue!” the people cheered.
Du Cheng gave a sheepish smile. It had been over a month since his reincarnation, and in that time, he’d thrown himself into good deeds, aiding countless poor souls in South Saint John’s. While advancing his Lotus Treasure Mirror, he’d also earned an unexpected reputation as a benefactor—something he hadn’t anticipated.
He swore his charity was only to make his backside “bloom.”
“Dear brothers and sisters,” he continued, “I’m just an ordinary man, unworthy of the title ‘Virtue of Saint John’s.’ Today, I’m here to help you live better—with warm clothes to wear and bread to eat!” Noticing the crowd’s hungry gazes fixed on the bread, he cut his speech short.
“No more grand talk. A hundred lofty words aren’t worth a single steaming loaf of bread!”
The crowd roared with laughter. The Virtue of Saint John’s was indeed entertaining, and his words struck a chord. Perhaps among the city’s nobles, only young Lord Francis truly understood what the poor needed.
If he were Prime Minister, life might be better.
Of course, it was a fanciful notion, quickly forgotten by the vagrants.
Du Cheng hoisted a large flag on the stage, its crimson surface embroidered with a golden lotus on one side and King Balgna’s name on the other. “Look here! From now on, any shop bearing this symbol will provide free meals for the elderly, children, and disabled. In winter, there’ll be warm clothing too. Strong folks can also find work to earn coin! My shops are few for now, so we can only distribute limited bread and clothes daily. But the harder you work, the more shops we’ll open, and the more people we’ll help. So, to those who join us, work hard—you’re laboring to aid others!”
He planted the flag on the stage and smiled. “Now, line up for bread!”
“Praise Lord Francis!” The crowd surged forward, shouting his name while reaching for the loaves.
A tingling sensation crept across Du Cheng’s backside. The Lotus Treasure Mirror surged as if it had been fed a stimulant, its progress racing forward. Waves of itching euphoria left him nearly limp with delight.
Why hadn’t he thought of this in his past life? Relying on his own efforts, how many good deeds could he achieve? Now, helping seven or eight thousand people at once—and with his charitable foundation in place, it would keep aiding the poor indefinitely. Could he just lie in bed and let the Lotus Treasure Mirror advance?
He’d already decided: this venture wasn’t about profit, only about cultivating the Lotus Treasure Mirror.
As more people received aid, the second lotus on his backside bloomed rapidly, unfurling in moments.
A buzz jolted through Du Cheng’s mind, like a muffled hammer strike. The second lotus had blossomed, and he knew rewards awaited.
He needed to check his backside—now!
Leaving the merchants to manage the scene, Du Cheng excused himself, leapt off the stage, and darted into a narrow alley.
Where was a privy? As he searched frantically, a soft voice called from behind. “Francis, it’s been a while!”
Turning, Du Cheng saw a girl in a sky-blue gown at the alley’s entrance. Her fiery red hair framed a radiant face, her shy, downcast eyes utterly captivating.
Avril!
Du Cheng froze. What was she doing here?
“I saw all those people praising you. You’ve helped so many,” Avril said hesitantly, fidgeting with her sash, her words rambling. Her heart fluttered with embarrassment. For a noble maiden to seek out a young lord uninvited was scandalous if word got out.
But after Francis saved her, he hadn’t even asked her name—so gallant, unlike the ogling noble boys. Just now, the crowd’s genuine adoration surpassed even her grandfather’s prestige.
Such a good man—why couldn’t he cultivate battle aura? She’d heard her grandfather had threatened him. If only he could become a War God, then Grandfather wouldn’t…
Lost in her thoughts, Avril didn’t notice Du Cheng’s growing impatience. “Do you need something?” he asked.
Avril lowered her head. Truthfully, she had no pressing reason—she just wanted to see him.
“I… I wanted…” She faltered, unable to conjure an excuse.
Du Cheng, exasperated, started to take his leave. Panicking, Avril blurted, “I just wanted to see you!”
Was this girl actually smitten? Du Cheng’s heart sank, inwardly cursing the Lotus Treasure Mirror. The words “living eunuch” hung over him like a guillotine. Gritting his teeth, he said harshly, “Miss, please have some decorum! I promised Prime Minister Antoine I wouldn’t see you again.”
Avril’s head snapped up, her voice trembling with defiance. “Then why, at the Divine Peace Eve banquet, did you only smile at me?”
“I smiled at Princess Yuna too. It was just courtesy, nothing more!” Du Cheng explained, his backside now itching fiercely. Dizziness washed over him, his skin slick with an oily sheen, his discomfort mounting.
He couldn’t waste time with her. Hardening his expression, he said coldly, “Miss Avril, I have urgent business. I must go.”
With that, he bolted.
“Am I that repulsive to you?” Avril stood alone in the desolate alley, her heart aching with bitterness.
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