Chapter Twenty-Four: Merely Settling Debts

Tie Xinyuan was reluctant to awaken from his nightmare. In his dream, he debated with Niu Er, then wrestled with him, and finally fought him to the death.

It was a peculiar sensation. During their argument in the dream, Niu Er was clumsy with words and was rendered speechless by Tie Xinyuan in just a few exchanges. When it came to wrestling, Niu Er was no match for Tie Xinyuan, who had learned the art of grappling; with a single antelope’s horn move, Niu Er was thrown so hard he saw stars, completely outclassed. As for a life-and-death struggle, even with a horse-slaying saber in Niu Er’s hand, he was still not Tie Xinyuan’s equal—because this fellow had a gun…

That sleep was utterly satisfying. Once Niu Er had been beaten into a meatball in Tie Xinyuan’s dream, he finally awoke.

The fox chirped incessantly, sweeping its big tail across Tie Xinyuan’s face. From morning until now, it hadn’t eaten a single bite.

Tie Xinyuan wrinkled his nose. The bigger this smelly fox grew, the stronger its odor became. Now, whenever its tail flicked, a pungent scent would waft forth. Wang Rouhua had already forbidden the fox from sleeping indoors.

After two hearty sneezes, Tie Xinyuan suddenly remembered he was supposed to reply to Xia Song today.

It seemed he wasn’t particularly interested in becoming Xia Song’s student; otherwise, he wouldn’t be so unenthusiastic.

No need to bring lunch today—Niu Er was dead, which was enough to feed that old fellow for a while, Tie Xinyuan thought viciously.

While other children of seven were still bald, Tie Xinyuan had a full head of fine hair, tied back in a ponytail. According to Tongzi, he looked quite handsome.

His mother always said Tie Xinyuan was a boy with a girl’s face. His father was a burly man, yet his son seemed as delicate as a chick. Over the years, no matter how hard his mother tried to fatten him up, it had little effect. Tie Xinyuan ate well, but never gained much weight.

Without bothering to wash thoroughly, Tie Xinyuan set off for the deserted garden. Since he’d already turned Niu Er into a meatball in his dream, he carried no burden in his heart.

The deserted garden had changed greatly. Though the walls still leaned and the buildings lay in ruins, the place was now spotlessly clean, almost to a fault.

The fox yelped, unwilling to move forward, convinced it had lost its way. Tie Xinyuan glanced at the pristine, though dilapidated, central hall of the Zhao family, then stepped into the garden.

Not a single fallen leaf could be seen on the ground. The flower-bordered path, paved with blue bricks, was fresh and inviting, with a riot of blossoms in full bloom. Yet, unlike days past, the flowers were no longer wild and unruly; after the gardeners’ shears, their wildness had been tamed. Tie Xinyuan found he didn’t like this kind of flower path.

He finally realized the source of his discomfort lay in Xia Song’s face.

At that moment, Xia Song sat in a splendid red robe, his official’s cap worn perfectly straight, three long strands of beard hanging gracefully from his chin, seated with effortless dignity on a beautiful brocade couch.

Indeed, everything about him—the official’s cap, the white jade ceremonial tablet in his hand, the white jade belt at his waist—spoke of one thing: order.

On the ground lay a prayer mat woven from golden stalks. In front of the mat were two cured hams, and behind them, two large white geese.

All the items for a disciple’s ceremony had been prepared. All that remained was for Tie Xinyuan to kneel on the mat, present the ham, and perform the proper rites.

Apart from the two of them, the deserted garden was empty. But Tie Xinyuan knew that if Xia Song so much as coughed, countless servants and maids would pour in from all sides, enough to fill the courtyard.

“You handled the matter with Niu Er well. I recognize your intelligence. Now you may offer the initiation gift. Once the ceremony is complete, you may become my disciple,” said Xia Song.

Tie Xinyuan shook his head. “I think someone like me would be better off studying under Master Liang of Shangtuqiao.”

Xia Song was not angered. He set aside the white jade ceremonial tablet and stood. “Because of Niu Er? You think that because he did a good deed, he didn’t deserve to die?”

Tie Xinyuan smiled. “Not at all. I just feel that even if studying with Master Liang doesn’t make me better, it won’t make me worse. If I follow you, I fear I might have to kill Niu Three, Niu Four, or even Niu Eighteen. Killing isn’t a pleasant experience. Since my hands aren’t yet too stained with blood, I’d better turn back while I can.”

“Willingly sinking into mediocrity! Lions and tigers gain renown by hunting other creatures. Who ever pities the poor deer that fall prey to them? Niu Er and his kind are mere prey—why concern yourself?”

Tie Xinyuan pulled the fox close with a laugh. “Lions and tigers hunt to survive. But people are different—we don’t need to feast on our own kind. Foxes love meat, but if there’s none, they’ll make do with cakes. I have no grand ambitions. Living like a fox suits me—meat when there’s meat, something else when there isn’t.”

Xia Song looked up at the azure sky and sighed, “It’s your mother, isn’t it? She forbids you from becoming my disciple.”

Tie Xinyuan only smiled.

Xia Song gave a bitter laugh. “It’s all old history, yet she still can’t let it go.”

Tie Xinyuan hurriedly cupped his hands. “You may as well tell me.”

“Get out!”

Xia Song waved his broad sleeve with force and, hands behind his back, retreated into the dilapidated house, his hand wavering, fingers tense.

Tie Xinyuan smiled, picked up the ham, took the geese by their leads, and walked away from the deserted garden without looking back.

The people at West Water Gate had long grown used to the fox. It didn’t steal chickens or trouble neighbors, and even had a household registration, so over time, everyone treated it as one of their own.

Today, the fox was unusually bold, herding two fat white geese through the streets. Some bored folk pretended to snatch the geese, at which the fox would bark loudly, making Tie Xinyuan turn back to check.

When Wang Rouhua saw the ham in Tie Xinyuan’s hand and the two geese being herded by the fox, her heart grew heavy. “Were you planning to become someone’s student?” she asked.

Tie Xinyuan shook his head. “He wanted me for a disciple, but I refused.”

Her eyes instantly brightened. She quickly reassured her son, “That’s just as well. My son is clever beyond compare. I’ll find you another teacher.”

Tie Xinyuan smiled. “I think Master Liang at Shangtuqiao is quite suitable.”

“But didn’t you say you couldn’t earn me an imperial commendation by studying with him?” Wang Rouhua asked, dubious.

Tie Xinyuan laughed. “I suddenly realized that instead of earning an imperial commendation for you, it might be easier to simply seize one.”

Wang Rouhua gave him a playful slap. “Nonsense.”

A customer entered the shop, and Wang Rouhua hurried off to attend to business. Tie Xinyuan cast a cold glance at the spot where Niu Er had fallen and muttered, “Perhaps I really can’t be an upright gentleman after all.”

Bidding his mother farewell, Tie Xinyuan took the fox and returned to the deserted garden. This time, the garden was empty, making it seem all the more desolate.

He pushed open the door to the house where Xia Song had stayed and entered. Inside, there was only a table, a chair, and a bed.

A green curtain hung low, swaying wildly in the wind.

Through the curtain, he saw a white jade ceremonial tablet lying quietly on the bed, beside a massive trunk.

Opening the trunk, Tie Xinyuan found it filled with books. He picked one up, flipped through a few pages, and muttered, “Told them to try again, and all I get are some lousy books—couldn’t they have left some gold or jewels?”

But the pages were filled with annotations, and, most precious of all, these books all had punctuated texts.

Indeed, for a family that prized both farming and study, wasn’t a trunk full of annotated books their greatest treasure?

He tried to move it, but the big trunk didn’t budge. So Tie Xinyuan called out, “Someone, help me carry these books home.”

Two servants in blue appeared behind him as if conjured from thin air, heads bowed. The fox darted under Tie Xinyuan’s legs, eyeing the men warily.

“Take them to my gate and leave them,” he ordered.

The two servants wordlessly hefted the trunk and followed Tie Xinyuan to the front gate. There, a black-curtained carriage waited. Without a second thought, Tie Xinyuan climbed in, the fox leaping after him. Soon, the carriage was rolling.

He didn’t lift the curtain to look outside, but kept his ears pricked for sounds. After a while, Tie Xinyuan, disappointed, lifted the curtain. Sure enough, as he’d guessed, Seventh Brother’s Noodle Shop was right in front of him.

The two servants in blue had vanished, leaving only the books and the white jade ceremonial tablet.

Wang Rouhua was baffled that her son had gone out, only to return by carriage. She hurried out, asking, “Where have you been?”

Tie Xinyuan, of course, would not explain the mystery to his mother. Pointing to the carriage, he said, “Met a fool who insisted on giving me a carriage, a trunk of books, and a white jade ceremonial tablet. Looks valuable.”

“Do you take me for a fool?” Without another word, Wang Rouhua climbed into the carriage. When she saw the white jade ceremonial tablet, she was so angry her teeth nearly ground to dust. She seized the tablet and smashed it against the carriage shaft, shattering it into countless pieces.

Tie Xinyuan watched his mother vent her anger with a smile, unconcerned by the loss.

Once the tablet was smashed, her anger seemed to dissipate. She opened the trunk, glanced at the books, and muttered, “Too good for him.”

After she got out, Tie Xinyuan grinned. “Mother, now only your son is the fool.”

Seeing her son’s cheeky look, Wang Rouhua declared with pride, “That so-called master of the Book of Changes once told me I was doomed to be childless, and that wherever I stayed, disaster would follow.”

Tie Xinyuan looked at himself and asked with a grin, “Mother, I am your own child, aren’t I?”

The faint sadness in Wang Rouhua’s brows seemed to vanish completely. She cupped his small face and smiled, “Of course, you’re the treasure that came from my very womb!”

“In that case, whatever that man said is utter nonsense. You needn’t pay it any mind.”

“Naturally! What drivel. And to think Wang Sanhuai even paid him with a white jade ceremonial tablet!”

PS: The third chapter is here. A regular schedule will form soon. Please keep recommending, collecting, and clicking. From Ji Yu.