Chapter 172

·

·

·

Protagonist:

Song Miao

After crossing two streets, Song Miao found the stall set up by the Zhou Ya on an empty plot outside a wine shop.

It was nearly summer, with long days and short nights; by the lingering sunset and the torchlight hanging outside the wine shop, she could see well enough.

Carrying the food box, Song Miao was about to step forward when she saw two people standing not far away: Kong Fuyang and a passing porter conversing.

No one knew what he said, but the porter waved his hand as if chased by a dog behind him and hurried off.

Kong Fuyang stood there for a moment, then went up to another person.

Around mealtime, wine shops and eateries lined this street, with many shops and firms as well, so naturally there were plenty of pedestrians.

Song Miao stepped aside and watched him approach one person after another, all to no avail: some shook their heads, some waved their hands, others ignored him entirely and hurried on.

Kong Fuyang, who usually had a fair bit of pride, though repeatedly frustrated and met with coldness this time, was not the least discouraged; instead, he took a breather, quickly rallied, and went to find another suitable person to ask.

Song Miao waited a while, then seized a gap to step forward.

Hearing the movement behind him, Kong Fuyang turned his head; before he could even see who it was, he instinctively saluted. Once he looked more closely, his previously listless face instantly lit up with smiles, and he called out: "Stall Owner Song, why have you come!?"

Song Miao smiled and raised the food box in her hand, saying: "Young Master Kong is busy with official business and has no mind for food—since I am the one in charge of meals, how could I let anyone go hungry?"

Kong Fuyang hurried forward to take the food box.

Though the food box had a lid, it was ultimately bamboo, and in the course of handing it over, a few wisps of aroma inevitably escaped. Under normal circumstances, he would have cried out and snatched the lid to eat, but now he sighed and said: "Stall Owner Song, thank you for coming specially to deliver it, but I really have no appetite..."

After hearing him finish speaking, Song Miao then replied: "I know Young Master has many matters and a troubled stomach, but I have a few words to say—I don't know if you have the energy to listen?"

Kong Fuyang grunted an "en," raised his head to wait for her words, but out of the corner of his eye saw someone passing by and couldn't help turning to look. Seeing it was a child running ahead with a sister of ten or so years shouting behind her, not someone who could serve as labor, he withdrew his gaze, turned back, and saw Song Miao smiling at him. He felt embarrassed and hurriedly said: "My apologies! Stall Owner Song, I..."

Song Miao smiled: "Young Master is wholeheartedly doing his work—what is there to apologize for? But I've been watching for a long while and haven't seen anyone come. Do you know the reason behind it?"

Kong Fuyang said sheepishly: "Because we aren't local in accent, and are all beardless youths, few are willing to believe us. Though the office assigned helpers, neither the village heads nor the patrol soldiers would exert themselves, just sitting behind the table, unmoved by urging. With great difficulty they managed to find someone, but then they asked this and that, scaring away several..."

He said this with some discouragement: "Though I know Qian Zhongming certainly wouldn't be that kind-hearted, I didn't know it would be so heartbreaking. Without him even needing to exert himself, the matter fails on its own—earlier, Zheng Yan spoke with the two old ladies Li and Huang, mentioning ten wen per head, and they were overjoyed. This time I said the same thing, and though some were moved and asked a few more questions, they all left..."

He added: "Fortunately, Stall Owner Song's place still has some people. I imagine this stall will be livelier tomorrow."

Song Miao said: "I asked someone to inquire, and they all said it's not good to use the government's name for recruitment..."

She recounted everything Ma Shenzǐ had learned from the village head, then said: "I won't say those pleasant words to comfort Young Master—they're useless anyway. Besides, with your ambition and talent, you know that when heaven is about to bestow a great task, why need my words at all?"

She added: "You and I can only speculate and cannot put ourselves in others' shoes, but there are always those who can. This afternoon I invited those few aunties over to take a look, and they raised many points, which I've learned to share with you."

"First, several recruitment stalls are set up in the bustling markets among big merchants and firms. Recently business is poor everywhere, and even dock porters and laborers don't have much work. Look at that large wine shop behind—who from a poor family can afford to eat there? The people we intend to recruit aren't they the poor? They profit there, we get labor here—isn't that mutual benefit?"

"The position selected by Clerk Qian—do most passersby have fair skin and fine clothes? Would they stop for ten wen?"

"Though it's not like asking a blind man for the Dao—consider this: if Young Master were given ten wen per person and asked to recruit your Taixue classmates, say Young Master Han, to write for someone all day, would you agree?"

Saying this, Song Miao smiled and said: "I am a stall owner; to earn a hundred or so wen, I can work through the night. Young Master is a scholar; you can toil through the night for river matters, but would you now copy books and write for others for a hundred or so wen?"

Since everyone had gotten along for a long time and knew each other's natures, she spoke with great frankness. At this point she said: "Labor is never equal. The so-called those who labor with their minds rule others; those who labor with their strength are ruled by others. Hire me for a day—how much can they pay? Use Censor Cen for a day—how much does the court pay? Use Prime Minister Cao for a day—what is his value? Higher still, to say something disrespectful, the Emperor for one day..."

"This matter cannot be dwelt upon too deeply. If thought through well, one knows to strive upward; if thought through poorly, one impulse, and one fears becoming paper in a fish's belly to submit a memorial."

After finishing her talk on location, Song Miao spoke of the stall.

"Hanging such a detailed signboard, looking very clear—but who is it for? Would those who can read come to apply?"

"With patrol soldiers sitting behind the stall, ordinary commoners seeing government soldiers, not knowing what has happened, who wouldn't detour? Who would dare come forward?"

"And furthermore..."

Song Miao laid out these problems one by one. Facing her, Kong Fuyang listened, with cold sweat beading on his brow.

Not to mention his family was wealthy; even if his circumstances were ordinary, with his literary reputation, attending any literary gathering or banquet and relying on the prizes set by the hosts, he could live comfortably. Naturally he wouldn't work hard for such a small sum.

Previously he had thought himself very thorough, but now, pointed out by this Stall Owner Song, he realized his nature was still so arrogant, never putting himself in others' shoes, merely thinking things should be so.

He suddenly recalled when he was at the Capital Prefecture Office, drafting documents for several Censors and the Xia Bu Xun Bu, also because he acted high-handedly and presumptuously, ultimately angering everyone.

At that time, if not for Han Li stepping in to help mend things...

Kong Fuyang set the food box aside on the ground, deeply saluted Song Miao, and said: "Thanks to Stall Owner Song's reminder, otherwise when Zheng Yan returns and sees the matter botched by me to this extent, I don't know how disappointed he would be!"

He added: "I'll go back now to gather everyone and carefully discuss how to handle tomorrow. We can't be as rash as today. We must choose a suitable location, see how to bypass Qian Zhongming, and furthermore..."

Seeing him speak and speak, his brows already knitted, looking quite troubled, Song Miao smiled: "Not only is Young Master anxious, the other aunties and young ladies are equally anxious. We've already set up a stall right outside the Yi Guan Guan."

"Set there, first the place is easy to find, second it's not overly narrow. I've arranged everything and asked them to spread the word tonight—just use my name to recruit people. That way we can bypass the office, and if there's trouble later, it can be dealt with later. What do you think?"

Kong Fuyang was both surprised and delighted: "No wonder Zheng Yan always says Stall Owner Song has great talent! Fortunately you are ahead in everything, otherwise it would truly be too late!"

Leading for the first time and making such a mess, his heart was only on how to remedy it. He couldn't wait a moment, had no mind to eat, picked up the food box and said: "I'll go back with Young Lady Song Xiaoniangzi to take a look!"

Speaking, he turned to find the village head and patrol soldier guarding the stall, greeted them, took several copies of the documents, turned back, hurriedly called Song Miao, and they walked back.

Song Miao naturally knew what he was anxious about. On the way back, she explained one by one what she had done and why, telling him not to worry too much.

The more Kong Fuyang listened, the more listless he became. Before even returning to the Yi Guan Guan, he seemed to have shrunk by half, yet sighed: "I've always been proud of myself, but it turns out I'm actually the most foolish—Young Lady Song Xiaoniangzi, why can you do things so thoroughly?"

Song Miao smiled: "The one who acts thoroughly isn't me, but those many young ladies and aunties. But relying only on us cannot accomplish things—when registration comes tomorrow, there will surely be many literate people to make the roster, and to prepare groupings and assignments in advance. This part we can only rely on you."

Kong Fuyang now dared not make any guarantees.

He said: "Ten tables set out—though not many may come, it's best to have enough people. But I dare not use people from inside the office anymore..."

Seeing him go down a dead end again, Song Miao said: "Why bother—why don't you follow the path others have walked well? How did Young Master Han do it when he came to Hua Prefecture? How did you come? What are your identities?"

Kong Fuyang was as if enlightened.

It wasn't that he hadn't thought of it, only that after Han Li left, many office matters were handled by him alone. Today busy with recruitment, he had hit a wall all day. Actually he was hungry, but because he was disheartened, he felt nothing, with only anxiety in his mind.

Now awakened by Song Miao, his anxiety gradually faded, and his mind finally became clear. He replied: "I should first go find the students of Zhou Xue!"

From ancient times, after mastering literary and martial arts, goods are offered to the imperial house.

Those who can enter Zhou Xue—who doesn't have a bit of pride?

That Qian Zhongming can control so many village heads and Patrol Soldiers, and keep so many merchants in check — could he still command that many students?

At this very moment, without Song Miao needing to make any further suggestions, his mind finally cleared, and he said: "I'll go back and check the stall situation first, then see what needs restocking tomorrow, make a list, discuss with everyone one by one, and divide the work!"

He turned again to Song Miao and said: "Song Xiaoniangzi, if we manage to recruit manpower this time, the Credit is entirely yours — even if I want nothing for myself, I'll still write a memorial for you and request a major merit award!"

Upon returning to the Yi Guan Guan, those many tables had surprisingly already been set up, and even awnings had been erected, able to block both wind and rain.

Not only that, upon entering, one saw several cloth Signboards already made in the small courtyard before the Yi Guan Guan, and also many Zha Lan placed there, packed full.

Just as mealtime had passed, there were only a few tables occupied in the front hall; that one table formed by two tables pushed together in the corner was clearly a group of students discussing matters.

One of them, seeing Song and Kong enter, hurriedly called them over — it turned out they had already used the counter set up at Song Miao's doorway to do a thorough review and fill gaps.

Although Han Li was not present here, he had long since arranged the manpower for this river-dredging and canal-clearing project — how many people needed where, manpower in place, where to deploy first, where to go next — all planned meticulously.

Everyone followed the regulations left behind and refined them one by one; just now they had finally waited for Kong Fuyang and Song Miao to return, and hurriedly called the two over to discuss together.

As the saying goes, many hands make a Flame burn high; after discussing for over half a double-hour, they finally assigned every matter to specific individuals.

By now the Chapter had been delivered; the remaining students stamped where stamping was needed, registered where registration was needed, some took on other tasks, and some had already prepared enough blank Bai Ming Ce.

Seeing everything on track, Song Miao, busy all day, finally finished and brushed off her hands, said goodbye, and returned to her room to wash up and rest.

And as expected, Kong Fuyang was assigned the task of going to find Cen Dezhang to demand the Zhou Xue student Transfer Order.

He didn't delay for a moment; borrowing Yi Ma, he was about to leave, but just before departing, seeing the station soldiers helping harness the horses, he calculated the time in his heart, then his footsteps paused — he had already reached the door, but suddenly turned back, looked around left and right, picked up the Food Box on the nearby table, and hurried to the back kitchen.

Tonight the back kitchen actually still had an Oil Lamp lit.

Kong Fuyang entered, and with practiced ease lifted two Song Family Pot Lids — strangely, today the pots still held warm dishes, and he didn't know for whom they were left.

He didn't fight for those pots, but opened his own Food Box instead.

The Food Box had three layers; the bottom layer was padded with Charcoal, keeping the rice and dishes inside still warm.

Kong Fuyang took some Charcoal from the Stove opening and added it to the bottom layer of the Food Box, preparing to eat when he returned.

Since there was no time to return to his room, he casually placed the Food Box on the table, about to cover it with the Covered Dish, but ultimately couldn't resist — he lifted the top lid and took a look.

The first layer held a sea-bowl of Rice, and a Small Bowl of soy-braised Mustard Greens; the second layer also had two bowls — one meat-focused, with Braised Goose, Pickled Duck, Stewed Fish and Simmered Lamb each taking a portion; the other bowl held half-mashed half-sliced Pork and half-crumbled-not-quite-crumbled Pan-fried Egg Crumbs half-lying in thick white Soup, plus several Large Date-shaped elongated Pills also lying in the Soup — unknown what Pills they were, their color pale yellow with a hint of pink.

The Pork looked very Fresh at a glance; originally boiled it should be very tender, still retaining an extremely faint pink; as for those Pan-fried Egg Crumbs, they were even more perfectly cooked — some crumbled bits scattered in the Soup, some larger chunks, the centers' Egg Yolks still showing a hint of raw color and a jelly-like appearance, though they should have been thoroughly cooked, eight or nine out of ten they were deliberately pretending to be tender.

Having followed Song Miao all the way, and lived in this Yi Guan Guan for many days, Kong Fuyang recognized at a glance which dishes were the Song family's.

Even though he was about to leave, he still couldn't resist finding a Tang Chi, scooping a spoonful with both Soup and vegetables, sending it to his mouth with his right hand, while his left hand covered the Food Box.

One spoonful entered his mouth; the flavors of Soup, Egg, and Meat greeted his tongue in sequence, one after another.

The Soup was very rich and Sweet, that Sweetness utterly natural, not a trace of greasiness — it was the Meat Juice Sweetness honestly given up by Fresh clean Pork when blanched, plus the Fragrant and Sweet aroma of Pan-fried Egg, and an indescribable River Fresh Sweetness, like Shrimp Sweet, yet like Crab Sweet.

The Soup had already been swallowed, yet at the root of his tongue he belatedly realized, and his Brain echoed again: "That mouthful just now was truly Fresh and Sweet."

And at this moment his mouth was already tasting the Pan-fried Egg and blanched Meat.

Those Pan-fried Eggs had simmered so long in the warm Food Box — they were long since cooked through, yet somehow the jelly-like parts still retained a just-cooked texture, while the pan-fried bottoms carried a perfectly balanced Burnt Flavor — this position especially absorbed Soup; while chewing, the blanched Meat and Pan-fried Egg took turns visiting his mouth, now Fresh and Fragrant, now Fresh and Sweet.

Chewed a few times, swallowed, and it was gone.

Kong Fuyang couldn't help turning back, opening the Food Box again, scooping another spoonful — only then, using every ounce of strength, did he force himself to rest the spoon on the Food Box rim, grit his teeth, and leave.

Cen Dezhang was actually very reasonable; deep in the night being sought out, hearing Kong Fuyang's evasive report, learning everyone wanted to borrow Zhou Xue students tomorrow to help register the Roster, he agreed in one breath, changed clothes, went to the Qian Ya, fetched the Seal, stamped the Zheng Diao he drafted, even offered a few words of encouragement, and called a duty clerk to take Kong Fuyang to the Zhou Xue right now to select people, to avoid chaos tomorrow morning.

Here Kong Fuyang tossed about for a while, and by the time matters were finally settled, the Sky had already turned completely dark.

He rode on horseback, constantly rehearsing tomorrow's situation, feeling there were likely no omissions, and finally let out a breath of relief.

Once that breath relaxed, the hunger in his Belly finally surfaced, making him urge the horse on incessantly, single-mindedly wanting to return to the Yizhan quickly to eat that Song family food.

While Kong Fuyang rode along in a daze, in the Yi Guan Guan, one person waved a hand and said to the person beside them: "Middle of the night, no need to wake the Cook again; I really have no appetite — just check what's in the back kitchen, find something to eat casually, no need for all that fuss."