Chapter 213

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Protagonist:

Song Miao

Song Miao nodded and asked, "Young Master, is there something?"

Han Li hesitated for a moment before saying, "It's something mixing public and private affairs; I'd like to ask for your help."

"Tonight I'm helping capture Lv Mao's group of boatmen. Since time is tight and we fear leaking the news, those putting in great effort were all specially selected by me from trustworthy people on the river."

"Now that Lv Mao has been caught, the case isn't yet concluded, and we don't know if he has any accomplices behind him, so it's naturally not good to make a big fuss, lest the boatmen be sought out for revenge afterward—but Censor Tong and the Censorate Commissioner specially sent down a sum of silver as a bonus."

At this point, he specially added a sentence: "This time we were able to catch this person entirely thanks to Stall Owner Song discovering it in time; you are the primary contributor, so naturally you have a share of the reward silver. But apart from Huazhou, the bulk is at the Capital Prefecture Office. Once the case is settled, Kong Fuyang and I will both keep an eye on submitting the merit memorial for you."

Song Miao declined not at all.

Upon learning that such a villain as Lv Mao had been caught, she was truly delighted in her heart and said, "Though it's not quite the primary contribution, being able to contribute a bit makes me very happy, so I won't stand on ceremony with you, Young Master—thank you! Such a bonus brings great glory to my face!"

She then asked, "But what is this other help?"

It was midnight and pitch dark, the darkest time before sunrise. Even with lanterns, only a single lonely lamp cast light, making faces appear bright and dim, indistinct—actually, one couldn't see faces very clearly.

But just hearing that light and cheerful voice, Han Li felt he could already imagine the expression of the person opposite.

Before, when he did things, he just did them. Once he finally caught the person, what he thought about more was how to handle the aftermath, how to wrap things up, how to coordinate with the Capital Prefecture Office—interrogating on one side while hurrying to send the results to the Capital, issuing orders to all prefectures to quickly rescue the remaining abducted victims. His heart had little relaxation.

But now, hearing such a voice and seeing such a reaction, his heart inexplicably became happy along with it, for no reason at all, and his face seemed to glow as well.

His shoulders, originally tense, now relaxed naturally, and his tone unconsciously became lighter. He said: "As for the others helping patrol the river, they were found by the government office and distribute their own silver; outsiders shouldn't interfere. But there are seven main workers and ten assistants—I had someone knock on their doors at midnight. And there's one boatman I spoke to personally. I plan to have them finish work and come to the Yi Guan Guan: first to collect the silver, and second, I have some things I want to ask them one by one in detail."

"Since they've come, it wouldn't do to just sit idly—if you can spare a hand, could you help prepare some late-night snacks?"

"Naturally," Song Miao said with a smile. "It's a small matter. I just don't know when they'll come. Is it about twenty people in total?"

Han Li nodded. "You don't need to do it yourself. Since you rarely get a rest, actually buying some snacks and small foods back, and preparing a simple drink, would do. No need to make it too troublesome."

"But if there could be something delicious to eat, wouldn't that be better?" Song Miao asked with a smile.

Han Li simply couldn't shake his head. He paused, then said: "If I say no, I'd really just be being polite. But you rarely have a day off..."

Song Miao found it amusing at once and said: "Young Master pays me money to work for me, yet worries about this and thinks about that—don't you have the surname Han, but changed it to Fan instead?"

She said with a crinkly-eyed smile: "Don't worry, Young Master thinks too highly of me—if I can't keep up, or if I'm tired, I'll say so myself. I won't force myself!"

She added: "It just so happens that work on the river is nearing its end. These days, Wu Gong has been leading people, checking accounts day and night. Last night he specially told me that after eating so many days of Gong Chu food, he misses our own kitchen's skills every day. Since that's the case, let's make extra tomorrow. When they return, we'll have some late-night snacks—it's not just coming without returning. Young Master, you keep an eye on Young Master Kong and have him write that merit memorial beautifully for me, as a return favor. How about it?"

Han Li agreed at once: "There's one more matter..."

He hesitated for a breath. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them back.

Seeing this, Song Miao asked: "What matter?"

Han Li paused, but changed the subject, only mentioning that Xiang Yuan was seriously injured and not expected to recover.

Song Miao was extremely shocked and hurriedly asked for the details.

Han Li explained the whole story, then said: "The interrogation is ongoing, but already a Chai Guan has come forward to testify, saying that when he knocked on the door, he secretly sent word to Lv Mao. Also, when they were pursuing Lv Mao, they were blocked at the side door and asked him for the key. He claimed the steward was keeping it and that he himself had no key on him."

"But when Lv Mao took off his upper garment, a ring of keys fell to the ground. The homeowner identified them, and among them was the key to the side door."

Song Miao simply couldn't understand and said: "Lv Mao is such a villain. How could there be someone who doesn't want to catch him quickly, but actually helps—helps to the point of losing his life??"

Han Li shook his head: "I'm afraid it's business dealings, involving too much."

"This person's matter has no conclusion yet, so let's not speak of him first, lest we wrong him. But he has a young son named Liang Yan, who is an old acquaintance of yours. I was afraid you'd be anxious, so I came to give you the news first—no need to worry too much. According to the Xiang family, after Xiang Yuan's seventh day, they will send him to the Capital. By then you'll both be in the Capital, so you can see each other often."

Saying this, he turned to look at the eastern horizon. Seeing it was about to turn white but not yet, he hurriedly said: "It's really too late. At this hour you should be resting. I won't say more, lest I keep you from your sleepiness."

After speaking, he raised the lantern in his hand, just like last time, and shone the light on the road ahead of Song Miao.

Song Miao quickly said: "Young Master, you should go back and rest early. I've delayed you."

The two bade farewell and each returned to their rooms.

Song Miao lived alone. She closed the door, had no qualms, and returned to bed to continue her sleep.

In the other room, Han Li was sharing a room with Kong Fuyang. He returned to his room on tiptoe, quietly washed up and rested—not worth mentioning.

As for Kong Fuyang, after being busy all day, he slept well through the night.

When he was at Taixue, he was used to rising at the crow of the rooster. Now, knowing he had to lead people to the river the next day for inspection and account-checking, he woke up on time. He turned over, got up, lifted the curtain, and saw the window wide open. Someone was sitting at the desk, writing swiftly with a brush.

Kong Fuyang was startled at once. He rubbed his eyes with both hands, looked closely, then hurriedly slipped on his shoes and got out of bed. As he walked toward the desk, he called out: "Zheng Yan? When did you come back?"

He added: "I waited for you until midnight, and even specially prepared washing water for you. Did you see it? —What on earth happened last night? You finally came back, then hurried off again, and ended up staying out so late?"

Han Li didn't answer him immediately. Instead, he finished writing the sentence in his hand, then replied: "I came back at about one quarter of the Ugly hour. When I got back, I saw the washing water was already prepared, the water pot was filled with water, and you had also prepared some snacks for me—thank you!"

While replying, his brush didn't stop, only slowed a little.

Seeing this, Kong Fuyang couldn't help but step forward and say: "You came back at the Ugly hour, and now you're writing again? Don't you need to sleep? Labor isn't that hard. You think you..."

He was still going to say more, but had already reached the desk.

Two sheets of draft paper were drying to the side. Kong Fuyang glanced over them and saw the two characters "Xin Feng" at the top. He couldn't help but utter an "Eh," immediately forgetting what he had originally wanted to say, and stood by to read.

At first he craned his neck to look, reading a few lines of characters. The more he looked, the more his head tilted, until his neck was practically twisted like twisted sugar candy. It really was a bit sour. So he simply walked to the other side, reached out, took the manuscript, and read it seriously.

After finishing the first sheet, he hurriedly and flusteredly looked for the second sheet, then the third. Finally, he roughly scanned from beginning to end, then couldn't help but flip back to the very beginning, reciting word by word.

Several times he muttered words under his mouth, shaking his head and swaying his body. Clearly he had already savored the next sentence, then flipped back to reread the previous one.

It was only three sheets of paper in total, with fairly large characters—probably because he started writing before the sky was fully bright and didn't light a lamp, so he had to do that—altogether only a few hundred characters.

But it was this short article of a few hundred characters that Kong Fuyang read for a full quarter of an hour or more.

His memory was still good. Though not to the point of never forgetting after seeing once, an article read twice was basically remembered seven or eight out of ten. Even so, he still stared at the paper without letting go. After a while, he let out a long turbid breath and sighed: "I always thought your writing style was sharp like a blade, but it turns out you can also write like this..."

Kong Fuyang thought for a while, originally wanting to find a word to describe it, but felt no word was suitable or sufficient.

He felt a bit melancholy for a moment, but soon that melancholy turned into mockery. He said: "Cai Xiu even said his writing and yours each have their own style, and he's been spreading outside things like 'Cai Xionghun, Han Diao Rui,' 'neck and neck.' How can he be so shameless as to say such things!"

At this point, he suddenly seemed to come to his senses. He hurriedly flipped the paper in his hand to the second page, fixed on a paragraph, read it again and again, and asked urgently: "Zheng Yan, Lv Mao has been caught??? You went to catch him last night???"

This time, Han Li finally put his brush back on the pen rest, turned his head, and replied: "Caught—wasn't that written?"

Kong Fuyang stood stunned on the spot.

He was shocked, delighted, and bewildered all at once, asking: "What's going on?? Where did the clue come?? Who does this 'itinerant merchant' refer to? How can it be so sudden?? I've followed this case after all, how can I know nothing about it??"

He had a bellyful of questions to ask.

Han Li then went through with him everything not written on the paper one by one: how Song Miao discovered the clue, how she told him, how he himself went to the yamen, persuaded Cen Dezhang and the Censor, how he temporarily arranged for people to visit and find a group of familiar boatmen, and finally how he dealt with that old boatman whom Lv Mao had selected early on, explaining the response matters one by one.

Item by item, piece by piece, it could be said to be interlocking rings; no matter where there was an error or omission, Lv Mao could not have been captured alive so completely.

After finishing, he added another sentence, saying: "This time a boatman's family has great merit; when you write the Request-for-Credit Fold in the future, don't forget to add a stroke for him."

Kong Fuyang honestly responded, finally seeming to come to his senses gradually, saying: "So that Rui Fusheng is Lv Mao—no wonder Song Xiaoniangzi came to ask me if I had seen that Rui Fusheng's hand scar!"

He regretted it so much he almost wanted to slap his thigh, both angry and annoyed, unable to help cursing: "Truly I am too stupid! This treacherous thief! Clearly there was a mole on his hand, yet he was so cunning and ruthless, he could even cut into his own flesh!"

Speaking, he also lightly tidied the manuscript in his hand, asking: "Is this copy to be sent back to Jingcheng early?"

Han Li shook his head, saying: "Put it aside for now; let's see how many victims can be saved in the follow-up before deciding."

Kong Fuyang nodded, about to go wash up, when he suddenly saw another manuscript in front of Han Li, and couldn't help but find it strange, asking: "Why are you still writing—wasn't this manuscript finished?"

Han Li instead picked up the two sheets of paper in front of him, examined them separately, saw there were no wet ink marks, then handed them to Kong Fuyang, saying: "This is the Request-for-Credit Fold; I wrote a part of it, you can take it for reference."

Kong Fuyang only felt bewildered, saying: "Wasn't it said I would write it?"

He said while taking it over, then lowered his head to look.

Han Li said: "It's also under your name; you can change it as you like. After changing it, it will naturally be your writing—only these two parts are what I have experienced the most and know the details of best—although even if written, perhaps no one will read it, but she has established so much merit and such ability; if even a stroke is omitted, it would be too great a pity."

But Kong Fuyang no longer had ears to listen carefully to what he said, only staring at the manuscript in front of him for a long while, then cursing: "You've written it like this, how am I to write about others before and after! How can I bring myself to make changes?? You're driving me to death!!"

Unlike Han and Kong, who rose early and were busy with affairs, Song Miao, on rotating rest, happened to sleep an extremely satisfying sleep.

Before sleeping, she had thought once more about the Xiang Family matter; because she heard Han Li say that Xiang Yuan's conduct, no matter how much he knew the dead are paramount and respected, she still found it hard not to curse a phrase of "deserved it."

If Lv Mao were truly let go, who knows how many people would be harmed.

As for Liang Yan, he must be sad, but Xiang Yuan's treatment of him was clearly more exploitation than sincerity; long pain is not as good as short pain, a blessing in disguise—who knows it may not be a fortune.

He is Xiang Yuan's adopted son; these past two days he is likely busy guarding the spirit and kneeling to welcome guests. I won't go disturb him first; after the Xiang Family gets through this period, I'll go see if there's anything I can help with. Comforting him properly won't be too late either—at times like this, saying anything is useless; it still relies on time.

Before she could think much more about other matters, Song Miao fell asleep.

This sleep counted as half a return-to-sleep; no dreams, long and deep, extremely refreshing. When she woke, her eyes had opened, and only then did she hear outside some unknown birds chirping chaotically, and cicadas chirping noisily.

Slept well, mood was good.

Hearing these fellows competing in volume, Song Miao didn't find it annoying. After stretching comfortably, she took a thick cloth pillow to lean against the headboard, turning her ear to listen with interest.

At one time she seriously studied the birds' clamor—as if three or four birds were quarreling, finally one won the argument, and now was proudly flapping its wings, calling everywhere while circling.

At one time she carefully distinguished the cicadas' cries—this side was quite neat; when calling, they called almost together, when stopping, they stopped together. In between, there was often a blank segment, but usually after not many breaths of silence, some cicada unable to bear its temper would tentatively open its mouth, and the rest would all rush in to clamor together.

After solemnly judging once more from aspects such as tone, pitch, and pleasantness to the ear, Song Miao finally gave scores to both sides in her heart and listed their ranks—still, the little birds' showing off sounded better.

She lay for another while, until her tailbone felt a bit numb from lying too long, and her belly growled with hunger. Only then did Song Miao get up contentedly to wash up.

By this time, Dabing had risen early. Seeing Song Miao come out, he hurried forward to welcome her, saying he had saved breakfast for her, asking Song Xiaoniangzi to remember to eat, and asking if there was anything he needed to do.

Song Miao smiled and thanked him, then replied: "Indeed there is. Tonight we need to make a late-night snack."

She listed a bunch of things: various beans, lotus seeds, ginkgo, coix seed, etc., telling Dabing to soak them first. She also mentioned some fresh condiments—nothing but scallions, garlic, cilantro, and so on.

Dabing soaked what needed soaking, counted the items once more, and returned saying: "There is no cilantro in the kitchen today, and the scallions are not the fragrant scallions the Young Lady usually uses. I'll go buy some—after the Young Lady finishes breakfast, I'll be back!"

But Song Miao hadn't had time to eat a few bites of breakfast when Dabing hurried back, saying softly: "Young Lady, that Liang Yan seems to be outside—looks rather not good..."