Chapter 4 - Little Taoist in Dire Straits
Under an old wall where a few cracks could be seen, was a bamboo chair and next to it was a table made of stone. A wine container was on the table, while the wine glass was not.
The glass was in the Little Taoist's hand.
The wine was the famous 'Tiger Bone Wine' - a single cup was worth twenty liang, more than its weight in gold. But at this moment, there was a troubled expression on Zhou Aimin's face instead of appreciation for the drink.
Abruptly, the emotion disappeared as a man wearing brocade clothes entered the courtyard. The man was naturally the owner of the residence, Mister Wang (汪), who had brought a noble title through his wealth. By his side was four young female attendants, each appearing around the age of fourteen and rather beautiful.
One of the female servants in the household went to Zhou Aimin's side to deliver him some tea and snack, but was promptly refused. The female servant, evidently disappointed, bit her lips and made sure that as she left, that her cleavage was revealed.
A hidden glint flashed through Mister Wang's eyes as he saw that Zhou Aimin seemingly had no reactions at all. "Young master Zhou, it has been the second day yet you have only seen the poor scenery of this one's courtyard. Although Jing village has been rather obscure until the illustrious Prime Minister, it's landscape has already been good and could not be seen elsewhere in Zhili. If young master Zhou wishes, I could lend you one of my servants to tour you around."
Zhou Aimin placed the wineglass on the table before shaking his head. "Mister Wang, to allow me to reside in your abode is generous enough. I will spend tomorrow predicting fortunes, and will be unable to see the views of Jing village."
Mister Wang lowered his head. Although the townsman of the village did not know, him, as an individual with some influence in the capital, was well aware of Zhou Aimin's true identity as the mysterious son of the Prince of Qiao (譙), who even the current emperor has to address as his uncle. The Prince of Qiao was Emperor Gaozu's sworn/blood brother, and one of his most outstanding generals, with a sway in the empire second only to Emperor Yong himself.
While Emperor Yong had allowed noble titles to be purchased, even the most wealthy of merchants were frowned upon by the true elites. If Mister Wang wants to further his position, the only way is through backdoors, and in his courtyard is one second to only the emperor himself.
Putting a smile on his face, Mister Wang said humbly, "Young master Zhou, the people of Jing village are simple-minded and shortsighted, unworthy of your sagely guidance. If you do not wish to admire the village's landscape, I can lend you one of my attendants, who are well trained and obedient…"
Zhou Aimin raised his eyebrows. Concealing the disgust in his voice, he said coldly, "Mister Wang, whether one is young or old, man or woman, they should always abide by their promise. If you consider me such a dishonourable man, I shall depart this second."
Mister Wang's face immediately turned pale like paper. He felt as though a lump had appeared in his throat as he said dryly, "Of course not." Slapping his face until it was swoll, Mister Wang finally said, "This one has misspoke… and will certainly not disturb your rest again."
Zhou Aimin gazed at the four-woman standing behind Mister Wang and saw their frightened and paled face. He hid his trembling hand within his sleeves, and swiftly downed the remaining wine in his cup as if to drown his anger. He tilted his head up and did not speak until Mister Wang had left.
When Mister Wang had left the courtyard, he smacked out with his hand, causing a precious porcelain vase to fall from the table. He glared at one of his female attendants and said harshly, "Inform the gentleman Nangong Zhu (南宫竹) at once that Zhou Aimin of the Qiao household is here. If he wants to make a big name of himself in the Xinqingnian… heh, he will understand."
Looking at the broke vase laying on the ground, Mister Wang closed his eyes before opening it once more. He turned to the attendant who had offered Zhou Aimin refreshments and began to lecture. "How could you be so useless! I had paid two liang of silver for you and yet you failed to even entice a mere Zhou Aimin. I refuse to believe a man, even a Taoist could resist the enticement of a woman. Servants! Give her twenty lashings, and make sure if she does not die, she will not be able to walk again!"
The female servant was so frightened she immediately collapsed onto the ground, causing Mister Wang to view her with even more disdain. At this moment, one of the other three servants clenched their fist and said with a voice thinner than a mosquito's, "Master… although you are angry, to kill sister Su (苏 ) would be wasting your money."
Mister Wang went silent for a moment, before he said, "That indeed makes sense. I shall be merciful. Instead of the lashings, Su'er will only have her tongue removed and promptly blinded. After that, sell her to a brothel."
The servant who stood up, seeing the dark look on Mister Wang's face, no longer dared to speak up. Looking at Su'er, her gaze was full of pity, almost on the verge of open tears.
---
At the hour of Si (10:00), Zhou Aimin hid the book he had been reading till then into his sleeves. Grabbing a small box, he sighed and mumbled at the thought of Yesterday's events, "The merchants residing in rural villages are tyrants who know no law."
A moment later, from over the wall, a voice spoke, "The Heaven is high and the emperor is far away. Young master Zhou, this is a common saying even in the capitals, could you not be aware of it?"
Zhou Aimin's eyes narrowed slightly. He took out a dagger his master had given him, turned and looked at the stone walls. He saw the spider webs festering upon it, but not the person who had spoken the sentence.
"It seems that this gentleman already knows my name. According to the Book of Virtues, two parties must know each other's name. Would this gentleman bestow me this honour?"
The voice over the wall laughed, before replying seriously, "Young master Zhou is indeed an interesting person. Very well; I am Nangong Zhu, ranked 98th on the Xinqiannian in the fields of spearmanship. I had come from a simple background of farmers, so forgive me, young master, if I act crudely."
Zhou Aimin, clearly understood the implicit threat within Nangong Zhu's words, but still managed to calm his anxiety and answered peacefully, "So it is fellow Nangong Zhu. I had come here to simply divine the good people of this village's fortunes - for what reason have I incurred your hostility?"
Nangong Zhu laughed once more, the snickers only fading after a long time. He answered without emotion, "Surely you must understand, young master Zhou, that I have no bad blood with you. This is simply business. I assure you, young master Zhou, that by the end of it, you will have returned to your father, the honourable Prince of Qiao's estate in one piece."
Realising it was impossible for him to reason with Nangong Zhu, Zhou Aimin spoke no more. However, during their brief exchange of words, he had used the dagger to cut in the middle of his palm, causing fresh blood to spill out.
Softly chanting a few mantras under his breath, Zhou Aimin watched with sharp eyes as the blood in his hand slowly disappeared into the soil beneath him.
Not a moment after the blood faded, Nangong Zhu jumped over the wall. He was dressed in dark blue, and had a rather ordinary face edging on twenty.
Zhou Aimin looked at the man and sighed. "I'm sure you are collaborating with Mister Wang. Since that, I'm sure no one will be able to save me."
Even in such a serious moment, he was able to make light-hearted commentary.
"Haha, for me to be able to meet face to face with such a noble individual, my younger self would not even be able to dream of it."
The young man slowly walked towards Zhou Aimin, and even more slowly raised his left hand. Between his fingers, it was possible to see white light.
Zhou Aimin had seen this many times with his master, and more recently, with Jing Wen beneath the eaves.
It was light concentrated from Qi.
Zhou Aimin could feel the horrifying influence coming from that cluster of light.
In Nangong Zhus' right hand was a bamboo pole.
The bamboo rested on the grass and did not leave a trace.
In preparation for Zhou Aimin's visit, Mister Wang had ordered all the grass to be cut short.
Perhaps because of that, the grass did not fold beneath the bamboo's weight.
No, the bamboo pole never touched the grass in the first place.
In fact, it was only because of Zhou Aimin's excellent senses that he could see the bamboo pole at that position in the first place. It had already disappeared by the moment Zhou Aimin had processed it!
The next moment, the bamboo pole appeared before him.
Pah! The terrifying spear hit him directly in the chest.
Nangong Zhu had been a farmer for ten years, since the age of eight.
His spear, was the accumulated strength of a decade of labour.
This force assaulted Zhou Aimin, pushing him back to violently collide with the stone wall, leaving behind a web of cracks.
What a terrible sight.
---
Jing Wen was before the burial mound. He had already lit incense and bowed to the grave, so now he was only silently conveying his thought to his departed father.
His face was still somewhat pale and sickly from his failed cultivation Yesterday, but his cheeks bear a hint of red that suggested he had recovered.
As he was about to pour a cup of wine in his father's honour, his action was suddenly interrupted by the sound of shattering china and rolling fruits.
Jing Wen placed down the cup and turned to the origin of the sound. He asked, "What's wrong?"
Jing An, ignoring the dropped plate of fruits originally meant as an offering for Jing Ping, replied with a tremble in her voice, "Y-young master, there are characters written with blood on the walls."
A frown appeared on Jing Wen's face. He was familiar with this technique. In the capital, it was commonly used by Taoist to communicate confidential or otherwise important messages over relatively short distances without the need of a delivery boy. While there were countless Taoists in the capital, there was only one in Jing Village at this moment.
"What does it say?"
"Wang household."
The frown on Jing Wen's face grew deeper. The first time he and Zhou Aimin met, he had offered the little Taoist a place at his residency, but was refused on the basis that Zhou Aimin already had a place to stay at. However, afterwards, he had not inquired Zhou Aimin where he would stay.
Minster Wang was famous for being ambitious and sly… if Zhou Aimin were so desperate as to use this technique, then he must be in great danger.
To say that he was close to the Little Taoist would be false. Their relationship was that of complete strangers. But he did not need to ponder if Zhou Aimin was worth rescuing. The Little Taoist had trusted him, so he is obligated to act.
Jing Wen walked up to a humble wooden shed in the distance and returned with a buffalo horn bow and a small box of arrows. He tightened the deer tender that served as the bow string, and without the use of his vision, leapt onto the walls behind Jing Ping's grave.