Chapter 8: Zheng Guotai

After the family banquet, for seven or eight days in a row, Zhang Yunxiu huddled at home. He kept a constant watch on his father's health while anxiously awaiting news from his fourth brother.

These past few days, Zhang Yunxiu had been worried sick over his father's physical condition.

As soon as it turned dark, he would carry a stool and stand guard at his old father's door, not leaving until midnight. He was terrified his father might suddenly decide to "relive his youth" and become a "seven-times-a-night man."

Logically speaking, the Zhang Family members were by no means short-lived.

Zhang Wenming, his own grandfather, lived to be 72 before passing away. His third brother, Zhang Maoxiu, also lived to be over seventy, and as for Zhang Yunxiu, he too was nearly eighty when he died due to external causes.

In the Ming Dynasty, fifty was already considered a ripe old age.

Many in the Zhang Family lived to seventy; at the very least, their genes were quite good.

If Zhang Juzheng didn't mess around, took care of his health, and didn't work so hard, living to over sixty shouldn't have been a problem.

This day, just past the Hour of the Rooster, the night was deep and dark. Zhang Juzheng stepped into the bedroom, with Zhang Yunxiu following closely behind.

Zhang Juzheng was annoyed by being followed and stopped in his tracks; Zhang Yunxiu stumbled and nearly bumped into him.

"Rebellious son! You aren't going to sleep, so why are you following me again?"

"Father, the doctor said you must cultivate your character and refrain from sexual activity," Zhang Yunxiu said, biting the bullet. "Could it be that you want to watch the Wanli New Policy be destroyed in one fell swoop?"

Zhang Juzheng snorted two puffs of white air from his nostrils, glared indignantly at his son, and flicked his sleeves as he walked away.

"Clack!" The bedroom door shut.

"Sigh," Zhang Yunxiu let out a long sigh, brought over a chair, and lay back on it.

It was not yet past the first lunar month; the weather was freezing, and water turned to ice.

Although Zhang Yunxiu was wrapped in a cyan cotton robe, cold wind still snuck in through his collar, freezing him until his nose ran.

Sniffling, Zhang Yunxiu turned over and suddenly heard footsteps approaching from outside.

He looked up and saw Zhang Fu running in as if his feet were on wind-fire wheels, saying hurriedly, "Fifth Young Master, found him, we found him!"

"Who did you find?"

"That Zheng Guotai you mentioned, we found him," Zhang Fu replied, panting out two puffs of white air.

"Excellent," Zhang Yunxiu's face lit up with joy. He hitched up his cotton robe and started walking out, shouting excitedly, "Quick, take me to see him. Make sure not to slight him."

Before they had gone far, Zhang Juzheng's door opened, and a figure stepped out from inside.

Zhang Yunxiu sensed something was wrong and looked back.

Father and son stared at each other; Zhang Juzheng glared coldly, pulled his foot back, and "clack!" heavily shut the bedroom door.

Zhang Yunxiu was caught in a dilemma. Zhang Fu glanced at the young master and suggested with a smile, "Fifth Young Master, why don't you stay here to keep the master company, and I'll go meet Zheng Guotai on your behalf?"

"Is that really okay?"

"What of it?" Zhang Fu shook his head and hurried to say, "Our family is the household of the Senior Grand Secretary; he is just a down-and-out fellow. If you go yourself, it would actually be elevating him."

"Let me go see him first to dampen his arrogance, then you can see him."

Zhang Yunxiu pondered for a moment and replied, "Fine, but don't put on too many airs, lest you annoy him."

"Rest assured." Although Zhang Fu didn't know why his young master valued this person so much, it was his master's order, so he could only comply. He bowed to his master and stepped away.

Zhang Yunxiu turned around, paced back to his original spot, and sat down.

Three miles west of Chongwen Gate was a place lined with streets and alleys, a lively spot with brilliant lanterns.

The left side was called Wang Family Lane, densely packed with gambling dens. The bluestone on the road was neat, and the row of houses along the street was bustling and noisy from the Hour of the Horse onwards.

There were over thirty gambling houses on the street; the small ones could gather dozens of people, and the large ones hundreds.

With real gold and silver, the back-and-forth slaughter was the place most yearned for by gamblers in the capital.

Once money was won, one naturally wanted to live in luxury and style.

To the right of the street was Flower Street, where the sound of singing never ceased and beautiful women swayed. Their skin was one fairer and more tender than the next, and their looks one prettier than the next; as long as you were willing to pay, you could do whatever you wanted.

By the time Zhang Fu reached Flower Street, it was the end of the Hour of the Rooster, and he saw that the large and small brothels were crowded with people.

The stream of patrons coming and going was endless, making the whole street look exceptionally boisterous.

His heart stirred at the sight; he smiled, stroked his chin, and stepped into a brothel called "Minglan Pavilion."

After announcing his name, Zhang Fu was led to a private room.

The room was luxuriously furnished, with a five-panel rosewood screen forcibly dividing it in two.

The right side was the main hall, with a red carpet on the floor and a dark sandalwood round table placed in the center, with four or five small rosewood stools set below it.

Looking further to the right, there were several blue-and-white porcelain vases half a person's height.

The walls were covered with poems and paintings, and the dozen or so palace lanterns on the ceiling shone together, making the room appear even more elegant and refined.

Perhaps hearing the commotion, a person stepped out from the left side of the screen. The man was about twenty-five or twenty-six, with dark skin, a lean build, and sharp eyes. He wore a round hat and black boots, and held a broadsword in his hand.

He looked just like a skinny monkey holding a knife.

Zhang Fu couldn't help but smile and asked the man, "Are you Zheng Guotai?"

"I am not."

"Then who are you? Why are you here?" Zhang Fu asked, puzzled.

"I am Han San, a Small Banner Officer of the North Bureau of the Jinyiwei under the command of the Great Master Zhang. I am here specifically to help the Great Master find someone," the man hurriedly reported his identity.

"And where is that person?"

Han San smiled and explained patiently, "He is in the gambling den next door. My brothers are already keeping an eye on him; he can't run. Knowing the Great Master was coming, I specifically prepared a banquet. It won't be too late to go find him after the Great Master has eaten."

Zhang Fu smiled, secretly marveling that this was a clever fellow.

He gestured to him, and the two sat at the original table.

A short while later, Han San clapped his hands, the door opened, and four or five maidservants walked in carrying wine and food.

They were graceful and elegant, making Zhang Fu feel as if his heart were being clawed by a cat.

How could Han San, standing to the side, not know? He lowered his voice, gave a dry laugh, and said, "The Great Master can rest assured. After we finish the errand, I have other good places waiting for you."

"Hahaha, Brother Han is indeed a clever fellow."

Since arriving in the capital, Zhang Fu had been idle; all the affairs of the residence were handled by You Qi, and it was never his turn to act.

Today, he finally managed to land an errand, and he came trotting over, finally getting a chance to have a taste of power.

Being flattered like this, Zhang Fu was already floating on air.

Hearing Zhang Fu's praise, Han San was also overjoyed.

He had long wanted to befriend the Zhang Family, and look, when his superior said the Vice Magistrate was looking for someone, the entire Guard Office was running around like crazy, yet he was clever enough to be the first to find the person.

Zhang Jianxiu accepted this favor from him and promised to promote him by one rank.

In a few more days, he would be a Flag Chief.

A military officer of the seventh rank.

Thinking that he, Han San, had entered the Embroidered Uniform Guard at fifteen and worked diligently for ten years, it still wasn't as satisfying as joining the Zhang Family's circle overnight.

After realizing this Dao, he held this banquet today.

As the two exchanged cups, Zhang Fu, slightly tipsy, patted his chest and boasted, "It's not that I'm bragging, but I am a clansman of the Grand Secretary; according to our generation, I call him cousin, and those young masters all have to call me uncle."

"Good heavens, so you have this status, sir," Han San said, feigning surprise, "The Grand Secretary's cousin—I am truly fortunate to be able to know such a big shot as you?"

Zhang Fu smiled smugly, pursed his lips, and continued, "I am currently working for the Fifth Young Master. You know the Fifth Young Master, right? When he was ten, the Emperor appointed him as the Director of the Seal Office."

"Do you know what kind of official that is?"

"I don't," Han San cooperated perfectly.

"That is the official who manages the Imperial Seal for the Emperor."

"Ah?!" Han San cried out in shock, "Good heavens, doesn't that mean you can see the Emperor often?"

"I've lived this long and still haven't seen the Emperor."

Zhang Fu originally wanted to keep chatting, but remembering Zhang Yunxiu's instructions, he had to cut the conversation short and urged, "Brother Han, let's hurry and summon Zheng Guotai; I'll only be at ease once I've seen him."

"True," Han San smiled and was about to stand up and walk out.

Suddenly, a series of thumping footsteps came from downstairs, and a man stumbled in, panicked, "Boss, the person you told the brothers to watch has been taken away by the Eastern Depot."

"What?!" Zhang Fu stood up abruptly, pointing a trembling finger at the man, and asked, "Did you say that the person was someone our Young Master Zhang specifically asked to see?"

"I did, but they didn't care; they even said they didn't know any Young Master Zhang or Li Gongzi," the man said, sweating profusely from anxiety.

"What exactly happened?" Han San was quite calm and asked for the reason, "Everything was fine, so how did he provoke the people from the Eastern Depot?"

The man swallowed hard and explained, "This guy, I don't know what kind of madness got into him, but he lost so much money he got desperate and pointed at the owner, accusing him of cheating; the owner has people behind him, and he called the Eastern Depot over in an instant."

Upon hearing this, Han San and Zhang Fu cursed under their breath about their bad luck.

Such a fool who didn't know whether he was living or dying—he really didn't know why the Young Master had taken a fancy to him.

Although he was resentful, Zhang Fu dared not be the least bit careless; he looked at Han San and said, "Brother Han, you go to the Fourth Young Master's house now and tell him about this, and I will go back to tell the Fifth Young Master; let's hurry and get the person out."

"Fine, there is no time to lose, I'm going now."

Disturbed by this fellow, the two had no interest left; they each left the Minglan Pavilion in a hurry, cloaked in the night.

(End of chapter)