Chapter 178: The Shandong Hero

After entering the height of summer, the city of Beijing suddenly became restless.

On the main streets, the sunlight poured down without reservation, scorching pedestrians into hurried steps, for fear that lingering a half-step longer would bake them into dark skin.

Fans, watermelons, and reed mats for heat relief became in high demand.

The peddlers and laborers on the streets wore only coarse cloth short jackets, shedding sweat at will.

The noisy hawking, mixed with increasingly urgent cicada chirps, buzzed right inside people's heads.

Women also shed their conservatism, wearing small shirts with wide sleeves that exposed their wrists.

Midsummer had arrived!

During this time, if there was nothing urgent to attend to.

These old Beijingers and merchants traveling from north to south would all find a tea house.

To stay quietly for half a day.

Waiting until the sun was a bit lower before going off to attend to their own affairs.

Just past noon on this day, a man swaying a folding fan slowly stepped into Chunlai Tea House, located by Fugui Street.

He appeared to be about forty years old, tall and sturdy, with a fair complexion; beneath a pair of sparse eyebrows were squeezed a pair of pitch-black, sharp, large eyes.

He wore a sky-blue ramie round-collared robe, and on his head, he wore the currently popular Chengzi Cap.

The mud-gold folding fan in his hand swayed with every step; this attire had quite the look of a scholar.

The man was called Song Ming.

He was from a wealthy family in Linqing, Shandong.

His father had him at the age of thirty-five, and at once, he regarded Song Ming as the hope for the family's revitalization.

He held Song Ming in the palm of his hand for fear he would fall, and kept him in his mouth for fear he would melt.

Starting his education at four, Song Ming truly did not disappoint his father's expectations.

On the spot, he displayed an intelligence unlike that of ordinary children. From then on, Father Song was convinced: whether his family could rise and whether there was a path to an official career all depended on this young son who had just begun his studies.

Consequently, he spent a large sum of money to hire famous teachers.

It was a pity that good times did not last; by the time Song Ming reached eight, the wild nature of a child suddenly surged forth. Playing tricks on teachers, skipping classes, running wild in the fields, and raiding bird nests with village children—he played through everything a child could possibly play.

As he grew slightly older, he sought out famous teachers everywhere, learning a set of fist techniques here and a set of staff techniques there.

While others liked romantic pursuits, he preferred wielding spears and sticks.

While others liked the imperial examinations, he preferred wandering the ends of the earth.

In short, whatever ordinary people liked, he simply did not like.

Furthermore, Song Ming had courage and strength, loved chivalry, and was quite loyal.

Whenever friends from the Artisan Household fell into trouble, needless to say, as long as they came to his manor, he would host them for a few days and then present them with travel expenses when they left.

Acting in this way, he truly had a bit of the style of the "Timely Rain" Song Jiang.

After entering the tea house, Song Ming only scanned the first floor roughly, then headed straight for a private room on the second floor.

Because it was currently noon and the sun was so vicious it could peel a person's skin, the tea house was naturally packed with guests. Once seated in the private room, the waiter brought over pastries and tea, then exited the room with a chuckle.

Song dusted off his clothes, walked to the window, and pushed it open to look into the distance.

He saw that in the western part of the city, a row of exquisite and neat high-rise buildings stood in an orderly fashion.

Those buildings were about five stories high, surrounding a square, with a small window left in every room.

When he first arrived in the capital, he was somewhat surprised.

The government was truly generous to be able to build such residences for the common people to live in.

However, he later realized the business opportunity in this; building them five stories high had many benefits.

First: Land in Beijing was limited, but the number of commoners and merchants pouring into Beijing was not small. In order to settle down in Beijing, they were naturally willing to pay silver to buy houses. Second: The people of Beijing also benefited. After all, with this renovation, the old, broken, and small houses became these new homes, and they could even get silver—who wouldn't be willing?

Third: With extra money in the hands of the common people, the businesses of these merchants were much easier to conduct.

Song Ming naturally knew who the owner of this western city renovation was, and he had come to the capital today specifically to go through this person's connections.

After waiting for about two pots of tea, Song Ming suddenly heard footsteps outside the door.

He hurriedly rose to greet them and opened the door to take a look.

He saw that the person who arrived was tall and sturdy, with a face like it had been carved by a knife, and an aura of blood about him.

Song Ming was startled inwardly and sighed to himself: What a leader of the Embroidered Uniform Guard with such a bloody aura; just looking at this appearance, one knew the number of lives on his hands was likely not small.

Thinking this, Song Ming became even more respectful toward the newcomer.

He put on a smiling face, cupped his fists at the newcomer, and then said, "This humble one, Song Ming, greets Commandant Han."

The person who arrived was none other than Han San.

Han San nodded slightly and gestured for Song Ming to sit down.

The two were not very familiar; it was just that this man had gone through Hao Ren's connections and promised him eight hundred taels of silver as a reward, just to meet Zhang Yunxiu once.

He thought, this silver was not to be refused, so he would probe the bottom of it first.

Once the two were seated, without waiting for Han San to speak, Song Ming took a five-inch square brocade box directly from his bosom.

Han San took it and opened it to look.

Inside was actually a jade bracelet, green throughout and exquisitely crafted.

"This... how could I accept this?" Han San closed the box and feigned pushing the brocade box toward Song Ming.

Song Ming held it with his palm, pushed it back toward Han San again, and waved his hand, saying, "Just a small token. Commandant Han is busy with a myriad of affairs; that you could take time out of your busy schedule to meet is something I am extremely grateful for."

"This is just a small gift between friends; Commandant Han need not take it to heart."

Han San accepted the gift box with a chuckle, his tone becoming much more cordial: "Brother Song, we can call you that, right?"

"That is my honor." Song Ming responded with a chuckle.

After a simple conversation, the two began to call each other brothers, just like brothers reunited after a long separation.

Without any superfluous nonsense, Han San went straight to the point: "I wonder, Brother Song, what important business do you have with our young master?"

"It's nothing much, really; I just admire the young master and would like to meet him," Song Ming said, taking a small sip of tea and laughing it off. "I'm not like you, Brother Han, who has long been at the center of power, imposing and prestigious."

"Don't look at me as if I'm someone decent in front of outsiders; if the government really came after me, I wouldn't even weigh four pounds, bones and all."

Han San sneered inwardly.

He knew the details of Song Ming's background clearly: a wealthy merchant in Linqing City with many friends in the pugilistic world.

Among them were many desperate outlaws, and even he, a Brocade Guard Commander, dared not offend him lightly.

Such a person would be afraid of the government? Slamming the wooden table, Han San pretended to be angry and said, "Brother Song, if you're going to talk like that, then there's no point. Who doesn't know the reputation of the Timely Rain? Even if you didn't come to me, you have other channels to see the young master."

"I treat you like a brother, yet you still hide things from me?"

Having said that, Han San stood up, intending to leave.

Song Ming grabbed his sleeve and apologized with a smile, "Don't be angry, Brother Han, don't be angry. Actually, this matter of mine isn't really a big deal; I just want to get some Salt Permits from the young master."

"Just this?" Han San asked in return.

"Just this!" Song Ming said firmly.

"Then you just wait."

(End of this chapter)