Chapter 45: Who Gave the Order?

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The tranquil town of Peaceful Rest slumbered under the darkness that lingered before dawn. The closed courtyard gate kept the big black dog inside, its whimpering protests growing fainter. No one lingered near the parasol tree. The Zhao household’s main door was shut tight. There was no sign of life at the village headman’s place either.

Where could the father and son have gone?

Su Tang unconsciously tightened her grip on the pouch at her waist. Surely, at this hour, they wouldn’t have gone to the academy?

“This way, young mistress,” Li Qingtian said, pointing toward the only place in town where a sound disturbed the stillness.

The slaughterhouse.

Su Tang nearly scratched her head. How could she have forgotten about the slaughterhouse?

As they drew nearer, the shrill cries of pigs and sheep grew louder, the pungent, bloody stench of animals thickened, and amid the hubbub of voices, Lu Dashan’s deep, booming tone was especially clear.

Su Tang didn’t venture closer. Soon, Li Qingtian, who had slipped in quietly, returned.

“Young mistress, that Lu Dashan is teaching the young master to stand in horse stance,” Li Qingtian reported.

“Practicing martial arts?” Su Tang asked.

She herself had tried the stance just yesterday morning.

“It seems so,” Li Qingtian replied.

“How is he doing?” Su Tang asked.

“There were quite a few people there; I didn’t dare to stay long,” Li Qingtian admitted.

In other words, she didn’t know how well he was doing.

“Let’s go,” Su Tang said, taking Li Qingtian’s arm as they left—not back home, but to the little grove they’d visited the previous day.

“Sister Li, let’s practice,” Su Tang said.

“All right,” Li Qingtian agreed.

“Wait a moment,” Su Tang said, unfastening the pouch from her waist and hanging it on a branch nearby.

The branch immediately bent low under its weight.

Li Qingtian was speechless.

“Silver and coins,” Su Tang said. “Didn’t we agree yesterday to be prepared, just in case? But it seems today we were overthinking things.”

Li Qingtian thought it over and nodded.

Yesterday, when her own son had been shielded by his new wife, and seeing Lu Dashan’s burly figure, it was only natural for fathers to want their sons to grow stronger, even if they didn’t say so outright. As for whether or not the boy called him “Father,” as long as he was obedient, it hardly mattered.

…Perhaps she had indeed been overthinking it.

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***

When Su Tang and Li Qingtian returned, the father and son had not yet come back. In the courtyard, the big black dog wagged its tail with a touch of grievance. Li Qingtian shook her fist at the dog and went off to busy herself in the kitchen, while Su Tang stayed in the yard, stroking the big black dog and stretching her limbs as Li Qingtian had taught.

As the faint aroma of food drifted from the kitchen, the big black dog turned its head and dashed straight to the gate.

At last, the father and son returned.

Usually, only Lu Dashan carried the reek of the slaughterhouse, but today the young husband was no less pungent. He went inside at once to change his clothes. Su Tang headed to the kitchen and brought the prepared hot tea into the house.

Sunlight streamed in as Su Tang opened the door, spilling over the folding screen and casting its glow on the young master as he changed. The thick bamboo-and-hemp screen, which Su Tang had always thought so substantial, now seemed as thin as paper. The young master extended his sleeves, his long robe fluttering, and what Su Tang glimpsed was a partial, half-veiled silhouette.

Su Tang instantly held her breath.

She had always avoided watching when he changed clothes. That night was a complete accident.

This sudden sight caught her unprepared.

…Had she come in a moment earlier, she might have seen the whole process of him dressing.

“What is it?” the young master asked, stepping out from behind the screen.

Sunlight bathed him; his robe draped lightly, his hair fell gently, and a faint halo seemed to surround him. Though he was the butcher’s son, in that instant he possessed the refined grace of a young nobleman.

Su Tang shook her head to clear it.

The sunlight vanished, and before her stood the same young husband who always seemed a bit slow-witted.

“Tired? Here’s some tea,” Su Tang said, handing over the cup.

“Thank you,” Jingyuan replied, accepting the tea.

Su Tang let go and stepped out of the room.

A few clouds drifted by overhead, blocking the sun.

****

The sun climbed high, and the streets of Peaceful Rest bustled once again.

“Dragon beard noodles, one bowl, please!”

“Take a token; follow the number on the token. When it’s gone, it’s gone.”

“Don’t tell me you’re shutting down early again?”

“After what happened yesterday, we don’t dare keep the stall open too long. Please forgive us, neighbors and friends.”

…

In front of the “Delicacies” stall, people gathered in a constant stream.

The fragrant bone broth wafted down several streets.

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The townsfolk all drew deep breaths—the broth was rich and genuine.

At the academy on the outskirts of Peaceful Rest, the bamboo grove swayed, shielding the courtyard from the wind.

“A gentleman must master the six arts: ritual, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, and mathematics. Our humble academy cannot teach them all, but at least we can toughen your bodies, lest you one day have to rely on your family’s womenfolk,” the teacher declared.

On the grassy field, the teacher lifted his robe and surveyed the students, pausing a moment longer on Jingyuan.

The other students snickered quietly.

The teacher’s face immediately grew stern. “What’s so funny? What is there to laugh about? As classmates, you should share a common cause. Yesterday, when your fellow student was in trouble, if any of you had been there, you ought to have banded together and driven off those who insulted our honor.”

“Yes, sir. We will obey,” the students chorused.

So, after the teacher gave his instructions, the dozen or so students of Wenhua Hall split into groups: some played ball, others kicked shuttlecocks, some lifted weights.

Jingyuan stood before one of three heavy stone hammers.

Next to him was Jiang Bowen.

Jingyuan lifted the hammer a few times, then stopped.

“Something on your mind?” Jingyuan asked.

Jiang Bowen, who had been glancing over surreptitiously, blushed slightly despite his stiff demeanor and asked, “Are you… all right?”

“I am,” Jingyuan replied.

Jiang Bowen gave a quiet grunt of acknowledgement, as if nothing was amiss, but he let out a small sigh of relief.

Just as Jingyuan was about to lift the hammer again, another question came: “And your wife—how is she?”

Jingyuan set down the stone hammer and looked at Jiang Bowen.

Jiang Bowen’s cheeks were flushed, but he met Jingyuan’s gaze directly.

“I—I only heard about it,” Jiang Bowen stammered.

Jingyuan nodded, saying nothing.

Jiang Bowen grew a bit embarrassed. “It’s foolish of me. If anything had happened, I suppose your stall wouldn’t be open today.”

Jingyuan continued to look at him.

Jiang Bowen said, “Actually, what I wanted to ask is: Do you know who was behind it?”

Though he appeared delicate, Jiang Bowen was no weaker than any other student at Wenhua Hall, and as Liu Ziyu had said, there was an aura about Jingyuan that made people instinctively wary of meeting his gaze. Perhaps the teacher had noticed as well?

Jiang Bowen spoke frankly, “In truth, what I wish to ask is: Do you know who was behind this?”

Jingyuan raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

Jiang Bowen replied, “I don’t, but the teacher was right. If you do know, we as classmates should help however we can.”

Jingyuan said, “No need. A small warning was more than enough.”

“You mean Liu Er? It can’t be him alone,” Jiang Bowen said. “He must have been put up to it.”

Jingyuan met Jiang Bowen’s serious gaze and smiled faintly. “And who does classmate Jiang believe was behind it?”