Chapter 12: 012 — Adopted Son?

The Duliuzhen Patrol Office compound, covering two mu of land, stood slightly north of the town center and now served as County Magistrate Wang's temporary office.

The night raid had ended, yet in a sense it had not.

More than five hundred local braves, once scattered, could not be gathered back. They had chased wildly through the pitch-black night, and with dawn nearly breaking, over forty men still had not returned.

"Your Honour, the stalwart Wei seeks an audience."

"Show him in."

Wei Jianxiong strode into the main hall of the Patrol Office, cupped his hands, and said, "Reporting to Your Honour: the bandit chief has been executed."

Wang Yongshi was instantly overjoyed. "Truly? Has his identity been verified?"

Wei Jianxiong was covered in blood, and a smear of white brain matter still clung to his chest. He replied, "On the way back, we already verified it. It is undoubtedly Heaven-Trampling. According to the rebels who surrendered, the scoundrel was called Liu Changlin, a man of Kuanhe Village in Duliuzhen, who made his living peddling illicit salt. His parents and brothers all died of illness years ago; he had one elder sister who married into Tangguantun."

Wang Yongshi asked, "Who captured and beheaded the bandit chief?"

Wei Jianxiong said, "The juren of Jinghai County, Gao Eryan."

"So it was him," Wang Yongshi said with a smile. "Quickly, invite Juren Gao in to speak."

Gao Eryan was soon led in, his hair still disheveled, his body still clad in the absurd silk women's clothing.

Fei Yinghuan, standing to the side, laughed. "Sir, why are you dressed like this?"

Wang Yongshi immediately made the introduction. "Zhongfu, this is my good friend, the Yanshan juren Fei Dazhao."

"I pay my respects to my senior," Gao Eryan said, his face bearing an expression of grief as he recounted his ordeal. "Hu Chongdao of Duliuzhen was a dear friend of mine. Yesterday evening, this junior, accompanied by his page boy, was a guest in Brother Hu's home. Who could have known that Heaven-Trampling would suddenly strike? Brother Hu's entire household, several dozen souls, all met with calamity. Even my page boy died wretchedly beneath the rebel blades. I am but a bookworm, with not even the strength to truss a chicken. I had no choice but to let down my hair, change into a household slave's clothes, and pretend to follow the rebels, blending into their ranks. Fortunately, when County Magistrate Wang led his troops to the attack, I seized the chance to slay the bandit chief with my own hands, avenging the massacre of Brother Hu's entire family!"

Fei Yinghuan pointed at the silk women's clothing on his body. "These are a household slave's clothes?"

Gao Eryan explained, "The disorderly mob was greedy for pleasure; whenever they saw fine garments, they snatched them. They did not care whether it was men's or women's wear, nor whether it fit, so long as it was silk or satin, they put it on. To pass myself off, this junior had no choice but to change into this outfit as well."

"You certainly do not let petty formalities constrain you," Fei Yinghuan said with a faint, ambiguous smile.

Wang Yongshi praised him. "To endure humiliation and bear a heavy burden, and to slay the villain with your own hand — truly worthy of a descendant of loyal ministers!"

At the Battle of Yashan, when Lu Xiufu, carrying the child emperor, leaped into the sea, the Privy Envoy Gao Gui also followed his sovereign in death. Jinghai County is home to two branches of the Gao lineage: the Gaos of Zhongwangzhen are the descendants of Gao Gui's eldest son, and the Gaos of Ziyazhen are the descendants of Gao Gui's second son.

Hearing Wang Yongshi bring up his honored ancestor, Gao Eryan could not help but feel a surge of pride. He bowed at once. "Your Honour praises me too highly."

More words of encouragement and commendation followed, and the two sides conversed for half a quarter of an hour.

Wang Yongshi tactfully dismissed his guest. "For such great merit, this county will certainly report to the imperial court for commendation. You, sir, have toiled all night and must be quite weary. Please rest here in the Patrol Office for the time being."

"Many thanks for Your Honour's consideration. I shall take my leave, then." Gao Eryan departed with perfect composure.

In the main hall of the Patrol Office, only three remained: Wang Yongshi, Fei Yinghuan, and Wei Jianxiong.

"Slap!"

Wang Yongshi slammed the table and burst out cursing. "Such a treacherous scoundrel! He has read the books of the sages in vain!"

Fei Yinghuan, fanning himself with a folded fan, smiled and said nothing.

Wei Jianxiong, utterly baffled, could not help but ask, "Is Your Honour cursing this Juren Gao? It seems to me he can bend and stretch as needed, and acts with resolution — a man of great talent and capability."

Wang Yongshi ground his teeth. "I have already interrogated many of the disorderly mob. Those who could take up quarters in the Hu family's great mansion were all personal soldiers of the bandit chief Heaven-Trampling, and each had to present a pledge of allegiance first. Gao Eryan was a guest in the Hu home at that very moment. When the mob suddenly attacked, he managed to join the rebels just by disguising himself? And then, in the blink of an eye, he became one of the bandit chief's personal guards? That wretch must have disguised himself as a servant and joined the mob in slaughtering the Hu household. To save his own life, he raised his blade against the family of his own dear friend!"

Wei Jianxiong was left dumbstruck, unable to speak for a long while.

Fei Yinghuan suddenly sighed with emotion. "Shameless and utterly ruthless — he is a figure of some note, after all."

…

The county yamen.

Zhao Han supported his little sister and fed her a bowl of herbal broth. "Feeling any better?"

"My head's no longer dizzy, but I still have no strength," Zhao Zhenfang managed a wan smile.

Zhao Han comforted her. "Rest a couple more days and you'll be fine."

Zhao Zhenfang asked, "I heard from Sister Xiao Huan — the maid — that this is the County Magistrate's home. Is the County Magistrate truly Father's friend?"

"Father has many friends," Zhao Han said with a smile.

Zhao Zhenfang opened her mouth to speak but could not suppress a yawn.

Zhao Han gently laid his little sister back down. "Sleep a while longer."

"Mm." Zhao Zhenfang closed her eyes and lay still.

Suddenly, a clamor arose from outside, and moments later the maid Xiao Huan came dashing in.

Zhao Han rose and asked, "Has His Honour defeated the bandits?"

The maid was astonished. "How does the young master know?"

Zhao Han explained, "A messenger galloping back from ten li away — the timing roughly matches. And your face, sister, is full of joy, which clearly means His Honour did not lose the battle."

The maid gazed at him with adoration. "The young master is truly remarkable!"

What use was being remarkable?

Trapped in a child's body, with no elder to shelter him, Zhao Han could only struggle to survive.

The stratagem had been offered, and it had succeeded. He was waiting to reap the reward.

A dignified County Magistrate surely couldn't be so shameless as to really give him nothing more than money for herbal broth, could he?

Yet he waited and waited. Neither Wang Yongshi nor Fei Yinghuan returned to the county seat; both remained in Duliuzhen to handle the aftermath.

Wang Yongshi was desperately short-handed. His private secretary was not in Jinghai County, having left for Hejian Prefecture days ago. The new Prefect had just taken office — a man Wang Yongshi had beaten up in his youth — and a reliable person had to be sent to ease the relationship.

Another day passed. Fei Yinghuan returned to the county yamen alone, while Wei Jianxiong stayed behind in Duliuzhen to help.

Fei Yinghuan acted as if the yamen were his own home, shouting orders for the servants to heat bathwater. After bathing and changing, he even summoned the maid Xiao Huan to comb his hair and bind it into a topknot, a process that took an hour.

"Young master, Master Fei invites you to dine," the maid came to report.

Zhao Han gave his little sister a few words of instruction, then rose and cupped his hands. "I must trouble you to lead the way, sister."

He saw Fei Yinghuan again in the garden, where the man was drinking alone, pouring for himself.

He had changed into an entirely new set of clothes: golden cap binding his hair, jade pendant hanging at his waist, a fine beard and long whiskers — the very picture of a handsome middle-aged man.

The fellow had borrowed two hundred taels of silver from Wang Yongshi. With money in hand, he did nothing else but first go purchase a full set of attire, restoring his appearance as the young master of a wealthy house.

The old master of the house is still alive, so even at forty, Fei Yinghuan remains the eldest young master.

Hearing footsteps, Fei Yinghuan did not turn his head, only raised his wine cup and said, "Come, sit."

"This young one greets you, sir." Zhao Han bowed with clasped hands, said no more, and sat down calmly.

Once Zhao Han was seated, the serving maid Xiao Huan stood by and, with great perceptiveness, poured wine for Young Master Fei.

"The bandit chief is dead," Fei Yinghuan said, lifting his cup.

Zhao Han flattered him: "Sir, your valor is divine."

Fei Yinghuan laughed. "What does it have to do with me? During that night raid, I didn't get a drop of blood on me. I just stood by the river admiring the moon."

Zhao Han had to switch angles in his flattery: "Unflustered amid battle, admiring the moon on the field — sir, what great composure."

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Fei Yinghuan laughed heartily, pointed at Zhao Han, and teased, "So young, yet your mouth is full of lies. Your esteemed father taught his son well — he must have been a fascinating man himself." Then suddenly he sighed. "Ah, in times like these, interesting people are few. It is a pity your esteemed father met with misfortune; otherwise I would certainly have sought his acquaintance."

Zhao Han fell silent, his face showing grief. This was not a topic he could easily speak on.

Fei Yinghuan set down his cup, took out a folding fan and waved it idly, and asked, "Two days ago, without even knowing the enemy's situation clearly, why did you dare ascend the tower and offer your plan?"

Zhao Han answered, "To be frank with you, sir, this young one is also a refugee. When you've been starving long, your whole body loses its strength. Those rebels, even if they seized grain, had only eaten their fill for a few days — how much fighting strength could they have? Strike proactively one day earlier, and you gain that much more chance of victory. Had we waited for the bandit army to reach the city walls, whether or not we could hold the city, the streets and lanes outside would surely have been destroyed. How many common folk would then be left homeless? And how much money would the county magistrate have to spend resettling them?"

"You've saved him quite a lot of silver," Fei Yinghuan shook his head self-mockingly. "Those in the game are blind; the onlooker sees clearly. When word came that the disaster victims had risen up, everyone was thinking about how to defend the city. The brilliant plan to defeat the enemy was pointed out by a mere child."

Zhao Han said modestly, "It was mere luck."

Fei Yinghuan studied Zhao Han with keen interest, chewing on a peanut. "So young, yet so quick-witted and steady of temperament. A pity you are not my son."

Zhao Han answered cautiously, "Sir, you praise me too highly."

Fei Yinghuan suddenly grew helpless and melancholy. "I have two daughters and one son. My daughters are both pure of heart and keen of mind, but my son is a fool. As Tao's poem says: 'A-Shu is already sixteen, his laziness without equal. A-Xuan is set on learning, yet has no love for letters. Yong and Duan are thirteen, and cannot tell six from seven. Tongzi is nearing nine, and seeks only pears and chestnuts.' Had I been born a thousand years earlier, I would surely have become the closest of bosom friends with Master Five Willows."

Zhao Han could not help laughing. "Master Five Willows' sons were all dull-witted — perhaps because he drank too much wine."

Fei Yinghuan looked at the contents of his cup, his expression odd. "Drinking too much wine makes one's sons into fools?"

"There is such a saying, though I do not know if it is true," Zhao Han replied.

"Then I must give up wine. Perhaps I may yet sire a unicorn-child," Fei Yinghuan set his cup down, ate two peanuts, then lifted the cup again and drained it. "Quitting wine is like governing a realm — one cannot be greedy for a single day's success. It must be done step by step. There will be time enough to quit once I return home."

Zhao Han could only respond with a smile, waiting for the other man to reveal his true purpose.

For no reason at all, suddenly inviting him to share a meal and speaking so much idle chatter — there had to be some motive behind it.

Sure enough, after three cups of wine, Fei Yinghuan asked casually, "You two, brother and sister — what plans do you have from here?"

Zhao Han replied, "We'll go south first. The northern winters are too cold; sleeping on the streets, we might freeze to death."

"Is the south not cold?" Fei Yinghuan said with earnest sincerity. "Become my adopted son. Come back to Jiangxi with me, and keep my foolish son company in his studies."

Hearing the words "adopted son," Zhao Han felt wild joy in his heart, and wished he could kowtow on the spot and call him Father.

But after hearing the words that followed, his heart instantly went cold.

This was not being a godson at all — it was clearly going to the Fei household to be a study companion!

The Hongwu Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang decreed that commoners were forbidden to keep slaves, and the same applied even to degree-holding scholars. Thus, contracts for buying servants were disguised as contracts for adopting godchildren.

The closer household slaves did not address their masters as "Old Master" or "Madam," but directly called them "Father" and "Mother."

For instance, in a certain literary masterpiece, the household slaves, when referring to Ximen Qing to outsiders, all used terms like "my father" or "Father Ximen," and called Ximen Qing's sworn brothers "Second Father."

In the late Ming, military officers liked to use household retainers in battle, and among those retainers there were always a bunch of godchildren — their true status was that of servants!

Since it fell under an adoption contract, it might seem it could not stop a household slave from leaving, but that document carried far more practical force.

This was because the master-servant relationship became a legally recognized father-son relationship. According to the Confucian Three Bonds and Five Constants, how could a son simply set up his own household? Anyone who dared run away without permission could not even obtain a household registration, and would immediately become an unregistered refugee!

Zhao Han did not refuse outright, only saying, "I must discuss it with my little sister."

Fei Yinghuan did not press him, and smiled. "Pick up your chopsticks. Eat."

(End of Chapter)