Chapter 112

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Protagonist:

Song Miao

If Zhang Zheng had asked for Han Li right from the start, Qin Jie naturally had a hundred ways to refuse.

But the disgusting thing was that this man opened with an outrageous demand, asking for ten or twenty Censors in one breath, knowing full well he would be refused, and only then asking for Han Li.

Asking for the sky and settling for the ground.

Qin Jie had already said in person that three or five Censors could help with the maneuvering; if he now said he couldn't give Han Li, what would it mean if it got out to those with ill intentions?

—Could it be that three or five Censors aren't worth a transferred student?

A transfer is temporary, but Censors will keep working under him.

Although Qin Jie wasn't an ox, he was so angry he almost wanted to grow two horns on his head right then and there and shove Zhang Zheng into a corner, forcing him to swallow every word he'd just said and burst from rage!

But Qin Jie was ultimately not a newly appointed official; he swallowed his anger and smiled, saying, "Zhengyan has been working nonstop for days, taking only two days off for the Cold Food and Qingming Festival Festival festivals. Because he had business at the school, he took leave and went back this morning. I promised him he could rest a few days before returning."

He then suggested, "Censor Zhang, this case is urgent. The Left and Right Courtyards are like brothers. I'll pick out five or six capable Censors for you right away, so as not to delay things. How does that sound?"

Zhang Zheng immediately waved his hand and said, "You in the Right Courtyard already have two major cases on hand, plus many leads to follow. I don't want to be the bad guy. Besides, five or eight men really can't help much."

Saying this, he turned and bowed to Zheng Boqian, saying, "Prefect Zheng, matters have their priorities. It's not that I, the junior official, don't understand reason, but let me say something unpleasant—what could possibly be happening at the Taixue? How can it be compared to such a major case?"

While speaking, he also looked at Qin Jie and said, "Why not ask Han Li to suspend his leave and come back to lend a hand? Once this case is concluded, the office can give him several extra days off, or some extra allowance, or at worst, a bonus!"

"If the Right Courtyard doesn't have such a precedent, the Left Courtyard can maneuver things and make it available. Why not just transfer his affiliation over?"

He hadn't even gotten the person yet, and was already calculating not to return him!

Qin Jie's expression changed, and he opened his mouth to refuse.

But Zhang Zheng went on, "I observe that this man is not the sort to quibble over trifles. If he has concerns, I, the junior official, am willing to go with Official Qin to persuade him—matters can always be negotiated, can't they, Qin Pan?"

Qin Jie almost laughed from anger.

Calling him back now to help the Left Courtyard, giving him a few extra days off—but it's the Right Courtyard's leave being used, and they even want to claim his affiliation.

Did they think he, Qin, was a dead man?!

Zhang Zheng, why don't you just change your name to Zhang Zheng and earn all the benefits in the world!

In Qin Jie's view, Han Li was his private possession, but in Zheng Boqian's view, that Han Li belonged to the office.

Seeing the Left and Right Courtyards fighting over the man, each sticking to their own words, he waited until the tension thickened, then said to Qin Jie, "If it were another matter, it would be fine, but this case is urgent. Qin Pan, you still need to go and speak with Han Li."

Qin Jie hurriedly called out, "Prefect!"

So anxious his voice changed tone.

Zheng Boqian shook his head, signaling him not to speak, then turned to Zhang Zheng and said, "Right now you want people, you get people; you want things, you get things. But if there's still no progress..."

"Official, rest assured. Within three days, I, the junior official, will definitely..."

"Three days?" Zheng Boqian said coldly, "At today's court assembly, without His Majesty even inquiring, I don't know how many officials came to see me while waiting for court. The homes of the Cao and Li Chancellors both have people pouring medicine for the meat. Seven or eight men from the Censorate in court are taking turns berating us. The memorials impeaching us for idling in office are thick enough without saying—their spit would spray onto my face—and you want me to wait three days?"

Sweat immediately broke out on Zhang Zheng's forehead. Fortunately, his skin was dark, so it didn't show much.

"Day after tomorrow morning. If you can't give an explanation, you'll go to court for this official!"

Naturally, this was just angry words, but the urgency in them meant no one could pretend to be foolish.

Zhang Zheng dared not be negligent. He wiped away sweat and hurriedly went out to gather manpower, without further mention.

Seeing that Zheng Boqian had flared up, Qin Jie was originally full of dissatisfaction, but dared not complain at this time.

But after Zhang Zheng left, Zheng Boqian's attitude toward Qin Jie softened considerably. He said, "You naturally don't want to lend Zhengyan to the Left Courtyard. But it's a game of chess on one board. If Zhang Zheng loses face, can your Right Courtyard remain untouched? Not to mention the Military Patrol Office—even the Capital Prefecture Office will be implicated."

He added, "Besides, Zhengyan is a man of extraordinary ability. Since he has come, you should give him more opportunities to achieve merit and handle affairs, so he knows there are many places here where he can make a difference. Don't make too many distinctions between you and me—that is the way to employ people for the long term."

Seeing that Qin Jie didn't like hearing this, he brought up the matter of Min Fuzi coming last time, wanting to invite Han Li to help assist with flood control.

Qin Jie was already green with anger. At this time, his forehead was green enough to turn black. He said angrily, "Is there such a principle in the world? Shouldn't everything be a matter of first come, first served?!"

"If you want to control floods, doesn't the Capital have floods to control? Look at this year's rain—there might be another great flood! Zhengyan staying in the Capital isn't better than going to some godforsaken Yingzhou?!"

He even cursed.

But no matter what, Qin Jie finally gave in.

He nodded and agreed repeatedly in front of Zheng Boqian. As soon as he returned to his own room, he wrote a letter, summoned his confidant, and had him send it early to Han Li.

On the other side, in Suanzao Alley, Han Li didn't know there had been such an interlude behind the scenes.

He was doing woodwork in a room in the back courtyard of the Song family. Song Miao and Cheng Erniang were also in the back courtyard by the well, preparing ingredients for the next day's stall. Occasionally, she came over, first asking if he wanted a nap, then asking if he needed a hand. Learning he didn't, she gave him a clean cloth, and afterward just kept refilling tea and water, or sending over some snacks.

In one afternoon's work, Han Li worked while seemingly only speaking a few times to Song Miao. In the blink of an eye, it was past. He simply couldn't perceive the passage of time.

The Song family originally had some broken tables and rotten chairs that no one had moved. He sawed or chopped, shaved or joined various pieces of wood, piecing them together from east and west. He actually put together a square table, four armchairs, and also repaired Song Miao's reclining chair.

He estimated the time. When he finished the last chair, he invited the child who occasionally poked her head in at the door to come over.

Xiao Lian was at first somewhat timid. Entering the room, she saw that the inside was already formed. The square table in the center, and chairs around the square table. She couldn't help but widen her small eyes and let out a low "oh."

Han Li didn't say much to her. Instead, he pointed to the wooden boards stacked ladder-like against the side of the table and said, "Go try if it's high enough."

Xiao Lian was completely stunned. She opened her mouth wide but couldn't speak, not even able to respond.

After a long while, she sat with a blank face, climbing onto the boards.

Han Li went over to measure, asked her if the height was enough, and also took a bowl from the side, placing it on the table, letting her try to see if she could pick up vegetables.

When Song Miao next brought fruit over, what she saw was that Young Master Han was half-squatting on the ground, using a piece of charcoal to make marks for Xiao Lian suspended on the wooden board mountain.

Seeing Song Miao, Xiao Lian's face turned red all at once. She said, "Sister, this... Han Family Brother said he wants to make a chair for me..."

Her voice was both excited and uneasy. In just a few sentences, she had already changed the address "Young Master Han" to "Han Family Brother." After speaking, she guiltily said, "Is this not good?"

Song Miao stepped forward and touched her head, smiling and asking, "Then did you thank Brother?"

Han Li said, "The child is good. She has already thanked several times."

Xiao Lian's face grew even redder, and she hurriedly nodded.

Song Miao said, "Do you still remember how to write your name? Once your brother finishes your chair, do you want to find an empty spot on the chair and write your own name?"

Xiao Lian was almost too happy to sit still, and asked, "May I?!"

"If you remember how to write it, naturally you may—this chair was specially made for our Xiao Lian."

After speaking, Song Miao couldn't help but lower her head to glance at Han Li, and smiled.

Han Li had been half-squatting on the ground, but at this moment he was also looking up at her, and followed her with a smile; after a while, he turned his gaze back to the wooden board in front of him, looked at it, stood up, stepped aside, and told Xiao Lian she could come down.

Because she was short, Xiao Lian usually had to stack several more cushions when eating, and had to stand up to pick up dishes.

Today, upon learning she would soon have her own chair, with dimensions and size made according to her height and short feet, she simply couldn't bear to leave, staying in the room watching Han Li knock and strike, cut and join, and actively wanting to help.

When it was finished, she borrowed a piece of charcoal to come over, wanting to write her Lian character on it.

Having learned only yesterday, putting new knowledge into immediate use, the child inevitably muttered words under her breath.

Han Li stood to one side, listening to her say how this character should be written, where the grass radical was, where the person and vehicle were, where the lotus pod was.

He had originally just been waiting a moment, but listening and listening, he found it quite interesting; seeing the child say "Sister said" and "Sister taught me" with every other word, he couldn't help but go over to look at the character again, and almost immediately recognized it as something written clumsily by a beginner, lacking bone and structure, merely copying the gourd by drawing it.

The character "Lian" was not an easy character to write, but its shape was drawn quite well; obviously the teacher was very skilled.

Han Li thought for a moment, and looked at the four chairs beside him.

These four looked like a set, similar in form, but actually different in size.

Three of them were of the same standard, only one was two Portion higher than the rest.

He went up to it, and carved a "Miao" character on the back of that armchair; after the character was carved, he thought it over, felt it was not quite right, and added a "Song" character in front.

After the two characters were carved, he stepped back, admired them for a moment, still felt it was not right, and finally took a file and rubbed those two characters off again, as if nothing had happened.

The tables and chairs had not yet had time to be coated with tung oil, but after all they were materials removed from old furniture, with few burrs; a wipe, and they could already be used as a makeshift solution for now.

That evening for dinner, the Song family finally used the tables and chairs.

One table and four chairs, all just the most ordinary styles, and even because of different materials, some places had obvious patched colors, but they were very stable, very sturdy, and comfortable to use.

Especially there was one very important point—these tables and chairs were very suitable for the Song family at this time, not at all conspicuous.

The happiest one had to be Xiao Lian.

A child getting her own custom-made chair for the first time, with her name written on it, with a step to climb up, and when sitting down, a handrail to hold onto, that step was just right to rest on.

She was simply too happy to know what to do, holding a basin, taking a handkerchief, wiping the tables and chairs again and again, especially her own one, simply wiping it ten or more times.

Having received such "new" tables and chairs, two adults and one child all gathered around Han Li to express thanks; Cheng Erniang and her daughter's thanks, Han Li answered them one by one, accepting all praise without refusal.

And when Song Miao was thanking him, he smiled and said: "In that case, it's not entirely eating and drinking for nothing, is it?"

Song Miao couldn't help but laugh too, and replied: "If Young Master Han is willing to come often to eat and drink for nothing, my family is welcome to it."

The food was long ready, the aroma had long filled the whole room; for a moment, those serving rice served rice, those carrying dishes carried dishes.

The main dish of the evening was mountain-pit snail chicken soup.

The chicken was an old hen; after slaughtering, bleeding, and plucking, there were still a full three jin.

Old hen stewed soup, the meat fragrance was abundant.

That chicken was killed and plucked just now, cut into pieces and put into the pot, still warm, no need to parboil; boiled over high heat, then turned to low heat to simmer slowly, only adding ginger slices and simmered for half an afternoon; before taking out of the pot, a little perilla was added; the fragrance was rich, the soup golden, clear, and shining.

The shine was chicken oil; the chicken oil only floated a shallow layer of oil flowers on top, not much; during the simmering process most had already been skimmed off; the soup was not greasy at all when drunk.

A mouthful of soup, entering the mouth rich and fragrant; the rich fragrance of chicken and the freshness of stone snail almost exploded in the mouth at the same time.

The snails were added later, raised for a day and a night, tails cut off, washed cleanly, simmered for only a short quarter of an hour; the freshness was fully released, but the meat was not overcooked; suck lightly with the mouth, bite down, the snail meat tender and springy, with a bit of chewiness; juice burst forth, perilla fragrance faintly appearing; the taste was extremely delicious, worthy of being the snail among snails.

That chicken meat relied on being old, having long endured simmering, still refusing to fall off the bone; but it had absorbed the snail's freshness, and tightly guarded its own chicken fragrance; it had texture, fragrance, and was fresh and sweet.

The skimmed chicken oil was directly stir-fried with chicken blood, chicken liver, chicken gizzard, and other offal together with cauliflower.

The third month was exactly cauliflower season; select oil lettuce hearts still in unopened buds, pinched tender; stir-fried over high heat to produce wok hei; using garlic granules, fermented black beans, cornel, Sichuan pepper to remove the chicken offal's fishy smell; again using oil lettuce hearts to resolve the chicken oil and offal's greasiness; then using chicken oil and the offal's fat fragrance to stimulate the oil lettuce heart's fresh sweetness.

High heat hot oil; the wok hei need not be said more; one bite goes into the tongue and nasal cavity; the oil lettuce flowers extremely tender; slightly stir-fried and the rawness breaks; eating it is soft, but still maintains shape and texture, not rotten; one bite is a mouthful of clear sweet juice.

The offal's juice was also all locked in; chicken gizzard crisp and tender, chicken heart substantial; chicken intestines processed very cleanly; besides crispness, biting them there was fat fragrance; chicken liver even more soft and sticky, with the sweetness of liver; soy sauce, fermented black beans, cornel seasoning given just right; the offal's freshness was fully brought out; slightly spicy, just right for accompanying rice.

A meal eaten could only be described with the two characters "comfortable."

Over three jin of chicken meat, several large handfuls of stone snails, simmered into a large pot of chicken soup, a large plate of chicken offal stir-fried oil lettuce flowers, and another large pot of rice; three adults and one child tried hard to eat, still leaving half a pot of soup.

Seeing the sky outside gradually darkening, the rain not stopping; because of fearing the road would be hard to walk, Song Miao urged Han Li to return first.

Because that soup would lose its color if kept until tomorrow, she simply changed to a small pot, put it in a basket, and had Han Li take it back as a late-night snack.

The latter simply did not refuse, opened his mouth and agreed; besides thanking, he also said: "If there is still some left, seeing Zijian is here, I will also let him have a few mouthfuls."

But he carried the soup, and had not yet returned to his dormitory; just at the door he was intercepted by someone.

It was Xiao You with a constable guarding the front door.

"Qin Official sent this humble one to deliver an urgent letter to the Young Master, very important."

Han Li recognized the other as Qin Jie's confidant; seeing his anxious expression, he knew there must be inside information; he did not delay, walked to a secluded place, put down the hand basket in his hand, and was about to open that letter to read it, when he heard someone not far away call out: "Han Li, Han Zhengyan!"

He looked up; in the rain, one person hurried over; his appearance was quite familiar.

And that Qin Jie confidant had already changed color; hurriedly stepped forward several steps, blocking the letter in Han Li's hand, saluted and called out: "Zhang Xunshi, why have you come?!"