Chapter 41

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Protagonist:

Song Miao

Suanzao Alley's road wasn't wide to begin with; seven or eight students, though not lined up in a row, still took up most of the space.

Seeing several burly men coming from the opposite direction, two or three of them even deliberately turned sideways to make way.

The people coming toward them paid them no mind, walking straight past, and one of them bumped heavily into Wang Chang's shoulder at the edge.

Wang Chang winced in pain, cried out "Ai yo," turned his head, expecting an apology, but not only did no one look back, he even heard a disdainful "tsk," and they were gone in the blink of an eye.

Several classmates nearby saw it and were naturally furious, inevitably complaining.

"Who is that!"

"How utterly unreasonable!"

Someone advised: "Forget it, he's probably mad; don't mind him."

Wang Chang felt somewhat resentful, swallowing his anger as he walked forward a stretch, not knowing if it was his imagination, but that shoulder hurt more and more, especially that "tsk" echoing endlessly in his mind, and he grew angrier the more he thought about it, turning back to chase them.

A classmate beside him called out for him not to go, and two others hurried after him.

Not long after, one of the three came back, running back.

"What happened?"

"Did they start fighting?"

"Don't cause trouble, if the School Instructor finds out it'll be a problem!"

"No! No!" The one who ran back gasped for two breaths, urgently saying, "It seems to be a gang of rascals and hooligans, causing trouble for Stall Owner Song!"

"Just now Wang Chang was going to reason with them, and we followed, but who would have thought we heard them ahead saying they only wanted to smash the Song family's door, telling Stall Owner Song to vacate the house early!"

Hearing this, how could the crowd not be angry?

"Didn't Song Xiaoniangzi say last time that she had already reached an agreement with the person forcing the purchase, and would move after waiting another month?"

"How can they go back on their word?"

"Leaving aside whether the deed document has flaws, even if it doesn't, right now there's only one young lady in that house, and ownership hasn't been transferred, so it still bears the surname Song; in the middle of the night, surely they can't just barge into a private home?"

"Go, let's take a look! Don't let Stall Owner Song be bullied!"

No one needed urging; several people almost simultaneously turned around and chased after them.

Inside the Song Family Eatery, Song Miao drove Lin Yiwen away and immediately closed the door.

Though she found this man ill-omened, she didn't take him seriously, only thinking he had been a fake corpse before; driving him away was enough, as long as his mouth stayed quiet in the future, she could treat him as if he had died and returned underground again.

As dusk fell, the room was no longer clearly visible, so Song Miao lit an oil lamp, preparing to wash the plates and bowls she had used to entertain everyone earlier.

But just as she walked over, she saw that several pomelo peels scored with crosses and split open had been thrown into the basket; indeed, as Cheng Zijian had instructed earlier, every peel was thick.

Thinking of how Cheng Zijian and Wang Chang and the others had pockmarked faces earlier, and now seeing so many pomelo peels left, Song Miao suddenly had a plan.

People in the Capital loved eating pomelo flesh, but few knew the pomelo pith was also a good thing—clearing heat, moistening the lungs, reducing fire, removing dryness; as long as it was prepared well, the taste was quite good.

These piths were thick and large; throwing them away would be too wasteful, so she planned to make Pomelo Peel Stuffing with them.

Pomelo Peel Stuffing was a winter food commonly made by people in Guangnan Two Roads; aside from the trouble of processing the pomelo peels, the rest was nothing much.

She did it as soon as she said it.

Taking advantage of the fact that the piths had just been split and hadn't had time to dry, Song Miao used a knife to shave the oily yellow skin on the outside clean, then cut the shaved pomelo peels into triangular pieces, and from the longer cross-section on the side of the triangular pith she cut a deep slit—this was where the meat would be stuffed; the deeper the slit, the more stuffing meat it could hold.

She had barely shaved two pieces when she heard someone knocking on the door outside.

The knocking went "bang bang bang," with a very frightening momentum.

Song Miao first thought it was Lin Yiwen coming again, but after listening for a moment, she felt something was off.

Indeed, the person outside knocked for half a day, and seeing no one come to answer, they shouted through the door: "Song family, pay your debts! This house has already been sold, and you're still clinging to it—do you have any shame!?"

Someone else kicked the door and shouted: "Open the door! If you should marry, marry; if you should move, move; don't just stand there!"

"This house has already changed owners; if you don't leave, we'll evict you!"

"If you don't open the door, we'll break it down!"

As they spoke, indeed someone outside was kicking and ramming the big door.

The big door of the Song Family Eatery was already over a hundred years old and had never been replaced; just now Song Miao had only closed it casually, and since she had still planned to go out, the door latch was only inserted shallowly, unable to withstand such kicking and ramming; before long, it was already shaking and wobbling.

As dusk fell, judging by the commotion outside there were at least several men; Song Miao was alone at home and was unwilling to let anyone in.

But judging by these people's tone and conduct, they didn't seem to be just going through the motions, and might not give up easily.

She hesitated for a moment, swept a circle around the stove, and reached out to pick up a long-handled cleaver.

This cleaver was one she had bought not long ago; the blade was very sharp, and it felt heavy in her hand.

Once the cleaver was in her hand, Song Miao felt a bit more confident.

She didn't go to answer the door, but instead retreated several steps and chose a spot in the front hall.

She had just stood firm when she heard a "bang," and indeed the big door hadn't been closed very securely earlier; the door bolt, after repeated force, had been rammed open.

The two burly men ramming the door didn't expect it, both staggered at the same time, tumbled into the house, propped themselves on the ground, and narrowly avoided falling.

Song Miao hadn't had time to speak when several more people came in behind them, not giving her any time to react, and one of them already opened his mouth: "I thought no one was here—Song Xiaoniangzi, you're at home after all! Are you pretending to be stupid, wanting to keep occupying this sold house and refusing to return it to the buyer!?"

This man was precisely Diao Zi, a subordinate of Chief Liao.

He had been beaten and was already resentful, full of anger wanting to vent on someone; just now at the door he had been blocked for half a day, making his anger burn even fiercer; at this moment, upon entering and seeing Song Miao standing in the front hall, he said: "You don't speak—what does that mean?"

The things inside the Song Family Eatery had already been moved away until they were seven or eight parts empty; since Song Miao arrived, she hadn't had money to add much, but in order to set up her stall, over the past few days she had still bought quite a few steamer baskets, stoves, large pots, and so on.

Just inside the door against the left wall were two wall-mounted stoves, with many cooking utensils placed on the stove counters.

Diao Zi entered and, raising his hand, knocked over two empty steamer baskets on the stove counter, and also overturned the pomelo that Song Miao had half-peeled onto the ground.

The white pomelo peel and flesh were scalded dirty all at once.

He walked in a few more steps, kicked out with his foot, and sent the pot by the wall clattering to the ground, overturned.

With him taking the lead, the others followed suit, preparing to find things to smash.

Song Miao's knife-wielding hand had been hidden in her sleeve; seeing this, she slowly raised it and called out: "You who enter people's homes at night—are you not afraid of death?"

Her voice was steady, and the hand accustomed to wielding a knife was steady too; several of those looking up at first didn't take it seriously, but once they saw the cleaver in her hand, and even considering the disparity in stature and strength between men and women, seeing the knife blade reflecting under the oil lamp, they began to tremble.

For a moment, one by one, they stopped their steps.

Song Miao paid no attention to the others, only staring at the leader, asking: "Where are you people from? Entering someone's home at night without cause—by law, forty strokes of the cane, and the master may kill you on the spot without question—do you not know this?"

As she spoke, she stepped forward, her voice instead lowering, holding the cleaver raised before her, yet not trembling in the slightest.

"You must be thinking: I am but a woman with limited strength, unable to kill anyone, raising the knife merely to frighten—if I cannot kill, can I not wound?"

"I may not be able to cut down three or five, but cutting one or two should be doable—if I cannot sever hands and feet, can I not cut faces, cut eyes?"

"I do not know whose luck is bad, wanting to be the one blinded or maimed—but as long as one comes forward first, once this knife in my hand is swung, there will be no other recourse; you may all kill and chop, and I fear nothing."

Speaking as she walked, she moved ever forward.

However, whether it was those who had rammed the door or those smashing things, as she moved, they all retreated.

Indeed, once her knife was swung, there would be no other way; several grown men rushing forward could easily cripple her.

But who would be the first to face this knife?

Knives and swords have no eyes.

This gleaming cleaver had no place for eyes to grow.

As they retreated, they could not help but glance at each other, all seeing the familiar guilt in each other's eyes.

—Which grandson gets hit by this knife doesn't matter, anyway it can't be me!

A chaotic fist can beat an old master.

Holding a knife, even a three-year-old child can injure a tall, strong man.

All have families and mouths to feed; even if there are no young ones below, surely there are elders above?

But this girl of the Song family is truly a complete bachelor!

The others dared not move, and the scene was deadlocked for a long while.

The others were manageable enough, but Diao Zi had originally been the leader, and had taken orders from Chief Liao; this time he had come to make amends, and was naturally the most anxious in his heart.

He repeatedly urged his left and right men with his eyes several times, but whenever anyone caught him looking, they either lowered their heads and dodged, or put on an innocent face, and some even stepped aside, making it look as if they were clearing a spot for him to go first.

Diao Zi had no choice, cursed under his breath, and his voice softened as he said: "Young Lady, why resort to knives and iron? You are not without a place to go; that great household in City West—a soft sedan enters the gate, eating fragrant food and drinking spicy drink, and by then you might even have to turn back and thank us!"

Speaking, he made a motion as if to lunge forward.

His gesture was very obvious, merely a threatening move, hoping to scare Song Miao back, but he truly did not dare to advance.

Song Miao's hand, accustomed to chopping poultry and beast meat, now facing a person, knew that yielding would bring endless future trouble; yet she held the knife, not trembling at all, and advanced straight toward him.

The ruffians, seeing this, scattered left and right with a clatter, afraid to touch the blade.

Seeing Song Miao's movement, how could Diao Zi not panic? His footing went soft, and he was about to retreat, when suddenly someone lunged at him from behind, pressing him heavily to the ground.

Diao Zi was completely unprepared and startled.

After all, he was a porter by origin, with rough hands and sturdy feet, accustomed to fighting; enduring the pain, he rolled over and pressed the person behind him to the ground, not even seeing clearly what they looked like, only knowing it was a man, and raised his fist to smash his face.

—Before he could land the blow, several more people suddenly lunged at him from behind.

One behind him grabbed his left hand, another pulled his right hand, and yet another dragged his waist and back, actually lifting him completely off the ground.

Diao Zi, one man restrained by three, not knowing if there were knives among them, how could he not be alarmed? He cursed: "Which son of a bitch!"

He also shouted: "Brothers!"

Actually, there was no need for him to call; the other ruffians had already lunged over, about to throw punches and kicks, when they heard someone outside shout: "Someone is breaking into a civilian home at night—Young Lady Song's house has been robbed by bandits, go report to the officials! Go report to the officials!"

Everyone was startled, some looking up, some turning back; even Diao Zi, pressed by three men, desperately lifted his head to look outside.

—It turned out to be several young men who looked like students standing at the door.

At this time the sky was dark, but lamps were lit inside the house, shining on their faces, illuminating the youthful panic on those faces clearly.

One of them widened his eyes and shouted: "Lock the door quickly, keep the person—I run fast, I'll go find the Xunpu!"

Another also shouted: "I'll go report to the officials!"

The two spoke, almost simultaneously turning around and sprinting out of the alley.

As they ran, one of them did not forget to turn back and shout: "Close the door quickly, close the door quickly!"

All of this happened too fast; the ruffians had no time to react at all.

And Song Miao's knife had not yet been swung; seeing the students' behavior and the troublemakers' reaction, she immediately understood.

Now that two had run away, there were only six students in the house; if they really fought, they were no match for these strong men who made their living by strength; if they angered them and they struck hard, they would surely suffer a great loss.

The nearest Xunpu was three streets away from here; going back and forth, the yellow flower vegetable would be cold.

As for reporting to the officials—it was nearly dark; although not to the point of no one caring, but since there was no death or injury here, even if they came, they would probably just go through the motions.

Moreover, when the Coroner examined Song Dalang's body that day, he only touched the eyes twice and gave the result so quickly; how could the people standing behind not have one or two connections in the government office?

But Taixue Xue Shi fighting outside, even if it was seeing injustice and upholding justice, ultimately violated discipline; if the School Rectifier took it up, even if it was finally clarified that nothing serious had happened, the entanglement would still be trouble.

If it dragged on, and there was even a slight bump, missing the public examination right before their eyes would ultimately be a loss for their own side.

But the ruffians did not know that this group of students were wary of the consequences.

It would be better to first scare the people away; as long as they had this handle today, it would be convenient to use it for their own purposes in the future.

Song Miao hurriedly made eye contact with Cheng Zijian, who was standing behind pulling Diao Zi.

Cheng Zijian stared with wide eyes, only focused on exerting force, afraid that a flaw would appear here; seeing Song Miao look over, he opened his mouth and said: "Stall Owner Song, rest assured, we have already caught this man dead!"

Song Miao had no choice, turned her head and looked at the ground.

The person originally pressed by Diao Zi on the ground was also a student, that Wang Chang.

Wang Chang was far too quick-witted; seeing Song Miao hold her hand up to her shoulder, he immediately understood, supported his shoulder with his right hand, and fell to the ground, crying out "Ai yo, ai yo" without stopping.

Song Miao switched the cleaver in her hand to her left hand, hurriedly squatted down, and her right hand, as if unintentionally, wiped a handkerchief across the bottom of the pot Diao Zi had kicked over, smudging a patch of black, then silently slipped that handkerchief into Wang Chang's hand.

Wang Chang clutched the handkerchief, pulled open his collar, pressed it against his shoulder, and wailed: "My hand is broken! Go report to officials! Go find a doctor!"

Everyone turned to look, and under the dim lamps, the exposed shoulder was indeed a mass of bruises, as good as ruined.

Several people who had been about to rush in to save someone, and others who had wanted to fight, were stunned by this scene and all turned to look at Diao Zi.

Even when he had just been tackled to the ground, Diao Zi had not felt half as panicked as he did now.

Damn it.

How can this student be so fragile!

He hadn't used any strength at all!

Could his hand really be broken?

Could his luck really be so bad that he actually crippled a Taixue student?