Chapter 208

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Protagonist:

Song Miao

The yamen runners indeed brought up the wine, and following that, delivered it to Kong Fuyang's table.

Kong Fuyang immediately refused, only saying he had never liked drinking wine, and tomorrow he had to rise early, so it would be improper to delay official business.

Rui Fusheng went to persuade him together with Xiang Yuan.

One said this wine, though clear wine, was actually not strong; even if one drank a whole jar, a single piss would clear it.

The other said the fish was roasted so fragrantly, not pairing it with a bit of wine was truly a pity.

They also said in unison that they hadn't eaten either; if Kong Fuyang didn't mind, they would order a few dishes, the three of them at one table, eating and chatting, which would neither delay matters nor be lonely, better than one person eating alone.

Although Kong Fuyang's disposition was usually more unconventional, when it came to proper business, he had never dropped the ball; knowing the other party had come for the river channel business, public matters were public, so naturally he could not refuse.

But this was a private meal, and Xiang Yuan's past conduct was something he truly disliked; even if only because this person had previously bullied Song Miao, he would not yield.

Xiang and Rui, one was honed in the business world, the other was also a shrewd character; they fundamentally did not take Kong Fuyang's refusal to heart, knowing that even if he was unwilling now, once seated and drinking, men pushing cups and changing goblets, no matter the prior attitude, they could all become birds of a feather at the wine table.

Especially such an inexperienced student; as long as he sat at the same table, afterwards he would be completely at their mercy to mold as they pleased.

The two of you one sentence, me one sentence; even with Kong Fuyang's eloquent tongue, for a moment he found it somewhat hard to parry.

Just as Rui Fusheng had already pulled a chair and was about to sit down, it happened that Zhang Fu was leading Zhang Yong and a servant out from the back courtyard.

He had originally taken people to the back courtyard to wash hands; before leaving, he ran his hand over the tabletop, only to feel it greasy — the front hall tables were after all used daily by travelers eating meals, the yamen runners might not wipe them that clean; sitting casually was fine, but for writing, dirty hands were secondary, if the paper got dirty it would inevitably affect the manuscript's appearance.

Zhang Fu feared leaving a bad impression on Han and Kong, so he fetched water from the back again, intending to take his nephew along to wipe the table clean.

Coming out this way, he saw Song Miao frowning and standing to one side watching the middle table; naturally he followed her gaze, and hearing Xiang and Rui's words, and hearing Kong Fuyang's refusals, how could he not understand.

Seeing the two urging wine, that wine at a glance was from the yamen — he had bought two jars yesterday, and had tasted them when buying; they were actually somewhat strong.

Parents planning for their children have always been tireless.

Zhang Fu had acknowledged a clansman as adopted son, paved so many paths for him, and now personally accompanying him here, was solely to pave the path even smoother.

Yesterday Han Li assigned homework to his nephew, and instructed Kong Fuyang to follow up; that Kong Caizi had just given his opinion, and once revisions were done, he would inevitably have to give further guidance — he was hating that the other party might even eat a few mouthfuls less, lest a full stomach bring drowsiness and fatigue, making him insufficiently meticulous when reviewing his nephew's essays; at this moment how could he tolerate Rui and Xiang urging wine here.

— If he ate until drunk, what if he couldn't read the essays?

— When Han Li returns, what if he finds the revised essays still unsatisfactory?

Anxiety had long arisen in his heart, but he lacked a justified pretext to act; he hurriedly turned his head, called softly "Song Xiaoniangzi," and pointed at the middle.

Song Miao was just hesitating.

She feared that once she went up, she would be pulled by those two to share a table; if she couldn't help but flip the table then, the other party had after all come for official business, a messy scene would be truly unsightly.

Now seeing Zhang Fu come over, and so proactively, she was like a drowsy person meeting a pillow; there was no refusing, so she hurriedly nodded.

And having obtained Song Miao's assent, Zhang Fu truly had not a shred of hesitation; he first handed the book in his hand to his nephew behind him, shook his sleeves, and immediately stepped forward.

He called out "Two gentlemen present!" introduced himself, then laughed: "Young Master Kong is eating; he has important matters tonight, inconvenient to drink; if the two of you are at leisure, I will host a table, let us three drink a cup!"

Speaking, he turned to instruct the servant: "Go ask the kitchen if they can still prepare dishes; if not, go outside and buy some vegetables and meat; a chance meeting is better than an arranged one; I with the two of you... don't know if you are elder brother or younger brother?"

He also reported his own age.

All were people of social standing, and the Zhang Family was a renowned clan in Weizhou, with some reputation; Xiang and Rui, knowing the other's background, naturally dared not offend, and could only answer with embarrassed smiles.

For a moment, discussing it, Zhang Fu was the oldest, Xiang Yuan second, and the youngest was Rui Fusheng.

Zhang Fu at once assumed the air of Big Brother, pulled out a chair at the side table, and invited: "Come, Younger Brother Xiang, Younger Brother Rui, sit here; a chance meeting is better than an arranged one, today I also make two friends!"

Speaking, he also urged the servant: "Quickly go ask about dishes!"

However vigorous Xiang and Rui had been when strongly urging Kong Fuyang just now, that was how stifled they were now being forcibly pulled by Zhang Fu to share a table and drink; yet they could not refuse, and had to come over and sit.

Zhang Fu for a moment urged tea, then rose to carry a wine jar from the side, laughing: "These two jars on my tab! The three of us tonight, not drunk no return!"

Things having reached this point, Rui Fusheng naturally would not lose face again, and hurriedly said: "How can we let Elder Brother Zhang treat, I will! I will!"

Speaking, he also went to snatch the wine jar, wanting to take it over.

That jar was very large, one jar held fully ten or twenty jin of wine, the base had recessed handles on both sides; Zhang Fu held it fast, and Rui Fusheng wanting to snatch it was naturally not easy.

Just at this moment, that servant and Zhang Yong passed by from the side.

The tables occupied by the crowd at this time totaled three, forming a "V" shape.

Kong Fuyang sat at the upper right table; then Zhang Fu and son arrived, and because Zhang Yong needed to compose essays and write, best to have a quiet spot, they chose the upper left table by the corner; tea was served, bundles placed on the table.

By the time Xiang Yuan and Rui Fusheng arrived last, Zhang Fu, in order to draw the two away, neither going to urge Kong Fuyang to drink and disturb his quick meal, nor disturbing his own nephew's composition, specially chose the farthest table, situated at the outermost bottom.

And that servant, having received his assignment to go ask about and order dishes, still carried a water bucket, rags, etc. in hand; he inevitably had to first return to the table side to set them down, so he passed through the gaps between the several tables, and happened to collide head-on with Zhang and Rui who were struggling with each other.

Though the bucket of water he carried could not be called heavy, it was filled quite full; for a moment to avoid them, he had no choice but to step back.

But the moment he retreated, he sensed something wrong; looking back, he saw that Young Master Zhang Yong was right behind him, holding paper, embracing books, grasping a brush — his retreat would squarely step on him.

The servant naturally could not fathom Zhang Fu's heart, could not see that far; seeing the master, for the sake of his adopted son, bow to that teacher—not even formally entering his sect but merely studying under him—yet willing to exhaust the family's strength.

And at this moment, ignoring many household and business miscellaneous affairs, throwing them all aside, he had to bring people to first pay respects at the dock.

This person only thought it was because the master truly valued this newly acknowledged young master; not only him, everyone in the household knew, and none dared be negligent.

He now feared stepping solidly and injuring the young master, so he hurriedly twisted his foot, turned his body, wanting to steady himself on the side table.

The bucket was full of water; the carrier's body tilted, his hand naturally moved with it, the water inside was about to pour out, about to splash onto Zhang Yong.

The servant hurriedly raised the bucket again, tilted it to the right.

Anyone who has carried water knows, when the water is full, it often refuses human control; you want it left, it goes right; you want it right, it goes left.

At this moment the water went left a moment, right a moment; just when it went right, Rui Fusheng behind, struggling with Zhang Fu, was caught unprepared, leaning right against the bucket side, and with a "huala" sound, half a bucket of water poured out, squarely drenching his right side.

All this was entirely accidental, truly leaving no time to react; by the time the servant's cry of alarm was heard, the water had already splashed, Rui Fusheng's half body was soaked, and he instantly changed color in anger.

He fixed his gaze, saw it was a servant, and immediately cursed: "Dog slave, are your dog eyes blind?!"

Speaking as she did so, she backhanded a slap.

The servant had splashed water on the guest; already panic-stricken, he did not dare strike back when beaten, but covered his face, dropped the water bucket in a fluster, apologized repeatedly, and tried to step forward to help.

Rui Fusheng was still not appeased; he kicked out again.

He kicked solidly, with great force — a loud "Bang!" rang out, and the servant was sent stumbling, collapsing to the ground.

For a moment everyone in the room looked over.

After kicking him, Rui Fusheng even chased after him, intending to add a couple more kicks.

Zhang Fu's face changed at once, and he immediately shouted, "Zhang Sheng, how do you perform your duties!"

He further cursed, "Get over here!"

As he spoke, he hurried forward, grabbed the servant, pulled him up, and dragged him behind himself.

Xiang Yuan had been sitting calmly watching; hearing Zhang Fu speak and seeing his move, his expression changed instantly, and he too rushed forward to intercept, calling out, "Brother Rui, why bother matching wits with a servant!"

Kong Fuyang had long since set down his chopsticks, turned to look, then rose and came forward to intercept as well.

Song Miao hurried to the side, fetched a towel and a copper basin, came over and said to Kong Fuyang, "Why not help Master Rui wring out his sleeves and clothes, to see if the inside got wet — if it didn't, I'll ask Dabing to help take the outer robe to the kitchen and roast it dry; it'll be dry in a moment!"

She added, "Even if the inside is wet it doesn't matter; I see Young Master Han and Master Rui have similar builds — why not borrow his clothes for a change, roast yours dry, then change back? Though he's not here, I imagine Young Master Kong can decide; when he returns, he certainly won't object!"

Kong Fuyang immediately said, "Exactly!"

As he spoke, he took the initiative to wring out Rui Fusheng's sleeves.

Half a bucket of water had been poured over him; Rui Fusheng's sleeves, hem, and trousers were soaked through, especially the right sleeve, which dripped water the moment it was wrung.

Because they were wringing water here, Song Miao took the copper basin over to catch it.

Kong Fuyang seized Rui Fusheng's sleeve, about to roll it up for easier wringing.

As the sleeve was lifted, the back of the hand and wrist were revealed.

On them were three scars the size of fingernails; one scab had not yet fallen, on the back of the hand, the other two were on the wrist, the three scars arranged opposite each other.

Kong Fuyang had not yet had time to wring the water when Rui Fusheng's face had already turned extremely ugly; he fiercely jerked his hand back, hid it behind him, and shouted angrily, "No need! I'll go back and change clothes myself! Whatever business there is, let's speak tomorrow!"

Saying this, he actually just flicked his sleeves and left.

His temper came inexplicably; this time he said go and went, and the others had not yet reacted, especially Xiang Yuan, who still had proper business to discuss — his partner suddenly left, so he hurriedly called "Brother!" and shouted from afar, "What is this about?!"

Xiang Yuan hurriedly said a couple of words to Kong Fuyang and Zhang Fu, then rushed out after him.

Once the man left, Zhang Fu hurriedly asked the servant, "Where did he kick you? It seems like a heart-striking kick!"

The servant, clutching his chest, sat up on the ground, paused a while, clearly in great pain; only after a long while did he ease, and hurriedly apologized.

Zhang Fu said, "It's also that you conduct yourself without enough steadiness, but that man... sigh!"

He added, "The kick was too heavy; I'll have Zhang Li take you to see a physician, lest you damage your body without knowing."

As he spoke he indeed called someone over, and had the servant helped out.

"This Rui Fusheng, really too..." Zhang Fu shook his head.

"Vile in appearance and behavior, simply bullying too far!" Kong Fuyang said indignantly.

Song Miao half-crouched on the ground, holding the copper basin, but could not help falling into a trance.

Rui Fusheng's temper was certainly fierce, but this departure was utterly baffling.

Earlier, clearly when Xiang Yuan went to wring water from his trousers, it was just as wet, yet he said nothing; how come when Kong Fuyang wrung his sleeve he...

Holding the basin, just about to go pour the water, she walked halfway; Zhang Siniang's eyes were full of life — she had come to pick her up this morning, but Song Miao was in no hurry to let go, and suddenly asked, "Siniang, do you know of a kind of fish called zicai, also called sacrificial fish, tender and fatty, layer upon layer, with another name called thousand-layer cake?"

Zhang Siniang thought a moment, shook her head and said, "Must not be a fish from around here; I've never heard of it."

Song Miao handed the basin to her, turned back and asked Kong Fuyang, only asking whether he remembered where exactly those scars on Rui Fusheng's hand were just now.

Kong Fuyang stared blankly, and said, "There were scars?"

He added, "I was single-mindedly wringing the sleeve, and didn't notice he still had scars on his hand."

Song Miao then asked both Kong and Zhang, saying, "Just now I heard Master Rui say he was from Qinzhou, but I wonder if the two of you thought he sounded like a Qinzhou accent?"

Zhang Fu recalled a moment, and said, "A bit of that sense, but hard to say."

Kong Fuyang said, "He speaks official language well; can't really hear an accent."

He added, "We'll have to go ask Zheng Yan; he's from the Fengxiang area."

Seeing this, Song Miao asked no more, only told Dabing a word, and left the door together with Zhang Siniang.

By now the sky was not early; the fish stalls had already closed, but many North-South goods shops were still open; she asked shop by shop, almost the whole street, yet no one knew that so-called thousand-layer cake fish.

Seeing the hour was late, Song Miao did not delay Zhang Siniang, and walked with her toward the official post station, just waiting for Wang Sanlang to come pick them up.

But halfway there, passing a huge wine tower, Song Miao was just passing by when she smelled fish paste; looking closely, it turned out a couple was pushing a cart to deliver goods.

She went up, casually greeted the woman, and asked with a smile, "Sister-in-law, pardon the intrusion; I see you have so much fish paste, the smell is so authentic, you must be an expert at marinating — but where does it come from?"

The woman smiled proudly, "My own skill!"

Song Miao first praised "Good skill," then asked about the thousand-layer cake.

The woman said, "Thousand-layer cake? You mean zicai? You ask others by this name most won't know; change the name, call it ziyu, and more will know — we in Minzhou locally call it zicai, also sacrificial fish; it dies as soon as it leaves water, delicious it is, the meat is indeed layer upon layer, this nickname is not wrong at all!"

Song Miao thanked her, asked a few more details; knowing the other was delivering goods, she only said she also wanted to buy fish paste, and got the shop location — no shop, originally a private workshop, only taking orders.

Having gotten the address, Song Miao thanked her, and only then left.

Returning to the official post station, seeing off Zhang and Wang, the sky was already completely dark, yet Song Miao was in no hurry to rest.

Kong Fuyang's mind was only on wringing the sleeve, not even seeing the scars; she naturally did not feel at ease saying more to him, so simply waited herself.

Waiting until nearly the hour of Hai, Han Li returned; only then did she go forward, tell him today's events, and ask, "Young Master might as well listen tomorrow, see if it sounds like a Qinzhou accent?"

Han Li at first still smiled in welcome; as Song Miao described it — Minzhou again, and hand scars — knowing that the escaped kidnapper Lv Mao was born in Minzhou, and had a black mole on his hand; now the mole was gone, but there were similar scars.

As he listened, the smile on his face gradually faded, and in the end he said, "Accent doesn't matter; I'll go ask a few questions."

He asked several details in detail; then Han Li turned and walked out, returned to the Zhou Ya, first sought Cen Dezhang, made a commotion, and the latter hurriedly summoned the Zhou Zhong Censor.