Chapter 28: The Money-Grubber
At dusk, when Chen Ping'an returned to the town and passed the east gate, the scruffy gatekeeper was still humming a tune there, just singing the line "An inch of time should not be taken lightly, wealth and glory can all be cast aside." Perhaps disturbed by the hurried footsteps of the straw-sandal youth, the man opened his eyes and happened to lock gazes with the boy jogging through the gate. Seeing that it was this debt collector, he was extremely put out and waved his hand irritably. "Shoo, shoo, shoo! Your time isn't worth a damn penny. As for those four words 'wealth and glory,' if you can even be touched by one of them, then you'd better burn a stick of high incense in thanks."
Chen Ping'an, after running past, raised one hand high, spread all five fingers, and shook them vigorously.
He was obviously reminding the gatekeeper that between the two of them, there was a bond of five coppers' worth of incense-and-fire fellowship.
The gatekeeper spat viciously. "Not a good bird either!"
The boy's figure quickly disappeared. The gatekeeper looked up at the clear, azure sky, which seemed like a beautiful layer of glaze.
Rubbing his stubbly chin, the gatekeeper clicked his tongue. "Teacher Qi once said a line of poetry... what was it... 'fine things, colored glaze'?"
An oxcart slowly drove out of the town. On the cart sat a blue-robed young scholar of good reputation, and the driver was a middle-aged man with a wooden expression.
The gatekeeper immediately waved and laughed loudly. "Brother Yao, don't rush off just yet. I've got a line stuck in my belly. I only remember 'fine things, colored glaze' and the like—can't recall the rest. You're a man of great learning, so explain it!"
Zhao Yao, radiant and spirited, held a traveling bag in his arms and announced clearly: "Fine things in this world are not sturdy; colorful clouds easily scatter, colored glaze is brittle!"
The gatekeeper gave a thumbs up. "That's Brother Yao for you! Top-notch learning. When you make something of yourself in the future, don't forget to come back to town and see your old brother. Maybe then you can take your teacher's place and be a schoolteacher for our town's children. That would be wonderful too."
Zhao Yao was momentarily stunned, then cupped his hands with a smile. "Thank you for your kind words, brother!"
The gatekeeper, pleased, pulled an embroidered pouch from his sleeve, flicked his wrist, and tossed it high to the blue-robed young scholar. Grinning, he said, "All these years you've written so many Spring Festival couplets for me for free, and the key is that you're a good kid who never thought it any trouble. I've never been wrong about people. Here's a little something for you—safe travels!"
Zhao Yao caught the money pouch quickly. "Farewell!"
The gatekeeper nodded with a smile and waved toward the young man's oxcart, but murmured to himself, "That'll be hard."
The straw-sandal youth walked deeper into the town, while Zhao Yao's oxcart headed out into the world beyond the town. They passed each other by.
The gatekeeper, sitting on a tree stump, counted on his fingers. "The Sui dynasty youth carrying a bamboo basket of golden carp, that widow Gu's brat from Clay Bottle Alley, and then Brother Yao from Fortune and Prosperity Street—that's already three. But there are still so many more to come, all barging in. They'll end up with nothing but picking rags! Maybe I should take the chance to find a filial apprentice who can massage my shoulders and beat my back?"
He pulled at his wrinkled, dark cheek with his hand and chuckled. "If it's a pretty female apprentice with a nice face and a good figure, that would be best. Hmm, I could tolerate a so-so face, but she'd have to have long legs!"
This famously unmarried man of the town clasped his hands behind his head, tilted his face to the sky, and secretly delighted in his own amusement. After thinking about these happy things, his worries melted away, and he felt that there was great beauty between heaven and earth.
――――
Before leaving Clay Bottle Alley, Chen Ping'an had already made an appointment with Liu Xianyang and the black-clad young woman to meet directly at Liu Xianyang's house. When Chen Ping'an reached Liu Xianyang's house, the door was unlocked. He pushed it open and entered, arriving at the main hall to see Liu Xianyang using a clean cotton cloth to wash and wipe the ancestral treasure armor.
The black-clad young woman, Miss Ning, had put her veiled hat back on. A saber hung at her waist, and the longsword with a snow-white scabbard was casually held in her hand. For some reason, Chen Ping'an felt that Miss Ning seemed a bit disdainful of that sword.
On the table was that old heirloom passed down through generations of the Liu family. Calling it treasure armor, as far as Chen Ping'an was concerned, it was truly ugly and frightening—a huge suit of armor covered with iron tendons like withered tree tumors, plus five deep, parallel claw marks that slanted from the left shoulder all the way down to the right side of the waist.
On this point, the two youths were utterly puzzled. They simply could not imagine what kind of huge mountain beast could have created such a terrifying sight. Later, the imperial court had sealed off many mountains, forbidding commoners from entering to cut firewood or burn charcoal. Chen Ping'an and Liu Xianyang almost never violated those prohibitions, and this was a large part of the reason.
Chen Ping'an found it strange. That charcoal-black iron armor was ugly, but Liu Xianyang truly regarded it as a family heirloom from the bottom of his heart. Even with a friendship like Chen Ping'an's, he had only shown it to him once in all these years. After less than half an incense stick's time, he had carefully moved it back into the red-lacquered box and enshrined it.
But seeing Liu Xianyang occasionally sneaking glances at the black-clad young woman, Chen Ping'an felt a bit relieved. Liu Xianyang had always been that kind of person—when he saw a pretty woman, he couldn't keep his eyes in check. But he wasn't really smitten; he just liked to show off. For example, in past summers at the covered bridge, when he bathed shirtless in the stream, if a girl his age passed by carrying rice seedlings or leading a yellow ox, Liu Xianyang was bound to pull his three moves: first, he'd scramble up onto the big green rock by the bank as if his butt was on fire; then he'd cough loudly—Song Jixin had commented that this was "proclaiming to the world"; and finally, he'd dive in. Chen Ping'an, who had good eyesight, could clearly see the expressions and looks on the distant girls' faces. He had always wanted to tell Liu Xianyang the truth: those pretty older sisters either rolled their eyes, muttered curses under their breath, or simply looked right through him. Not one of them had ever shown a glimmer of admiration, thinking he was some kind of hero.
Of course, later Liu Xianyang had taken a fancy to Song Jixin's maidservant, Zhigui, and had inexplicably fallen head over heels. After that, the tall youth seemed to have no eyes for any other pretty woman. Even now, showing off to the black-clad young woman was more about hoping that the proud, aloof girl wouldn't look down on him, wouldn't think that just because she carried a saber and a sword, she could swagger around like the Emperor of Heaven. His Liu Xianyang's heirloom was unique in the whole town.
After Chen Ping'an arrived, the veiled young woman looked around the room and finally placed the longsword horizontally on an old, multi-colored, gold-painted floral antique cabinet. The paint was chipped and cracked. To make room for the sword, she moved aside various bottles, jars, and odds and ends, and discovered that the back panel of the cabinet was inlaid with a picture: a golden osmanthus tree under a full round moon.
The young woman turned and said, "Leave the sword here. Don't touch it, or else you'll bear the consequences. I'm not joking."
Liu Xianyang was busy wiping the armor, occasionally lowering his head to breathe on it and gently rub it with his arm. He was truly absorbed in it.
Chen Ping'an promised, "Certainly."
The young woman said to Liu Xianyang, "This cabinet isn't worth much, but that inlaid picture of golden osmanthus under the moon—don't sell it cheap."
Liu Xianyang didn't look up. "That thing? I've never liked it since I was a kid. If you fancy it, miss, just scrape it off yourself."
The black-clad young woman naturally had no intention of committing such an act of vandalism. She only asked curiously, "What material is this picture made of?"
Liu Xianyang glanced back. "It's been around for several hundred years. How would I know? Even my grandfather couldn't say for sure."
Chen Ping'an said softly, "They should be pebbles picked up from the stream. There are many colors, but Liu Xianyang's elder must have only selected the golden ones back then, crushed them first, and then glued them together. We call this kind of stone snake-gall stone."
The black-clad young woman asked, "Pebbles? Are there many in the stream?"
Chen Ping'an smiled. "If you want some, Miss Ning, I can pick a big basketful for you in a day. Nobody around here cares for these things. Only Gu Can likes them—he often goes to pick them by himself."
The black-clad young woman sighed and looked deeply at the poor youth from Clay Bottle Alley. "A poor wretch living on a mountain of gold and silver."
Chen Ping'an was surprised. "Are these stones valuable outside?"
She adjusted her veiled hat and said, "The price depends on who has them. Besides that, even if they fall into the hands of someone in the know, success is a matter of luck. If you're lucky, one stone is enough. If not, even a mountain of stones won't do the trick. But regardless, they are valuable. Very valuable. The question is whether they can be taken out of the town—that's the key."
Liu Xianyang interjected, "There's something odd about these stones. Once you take them out of the stream, they fade in color when exposed to wind and sun. Especially after rain or snow, the color fades even worse. Apart from that, nothing special."
The young woman said regretfully, "Just as I thought."
Chen Ping'an hesitated. "How about I go pick a big basketful tomorrow and test it out? What if there are exceptions?"
The young woman shook her head. "It's meaningless to me."
Liu Xianyang had already moved the armor back into the room and hidden it away. Now leaning against the doorframe, he laughed. "Chen Ping'an is a real money-grubber. He might just go to the stream to feel for stones tonight."
The young woman dropped a line. "I'm leaving."
When she reached the door, she turned and said, "I'll keep the hairpin and the prescription safe for you. But you still need to come to Clay Bottle Alley tomorrow to help with the medicine."
Chen Ping'an nodded. "No problem."
She thought for a moment, her expression serious, and warned, "Among these outsiders who entered the town around the same time as me, the most powerful should be that old man from Zhengyang Mountain. He's here specifically to escort the little girl. Next is that eunuch from the Great Sui who injured me. Then there's Liu Zhimao, who took Gu Can. Don't underestimate that woman with the hidden smile either. So if you run into that old fellow from Zhengyang Mountain, try not to argue. But if a conflict arises, just stall for time. Don't fight him—don't have any wishful thinking. You must stall until I show up."
Liu Xianyang muttered, "On our turf, would these outlanders who don't know the area really dare to kill?"
Chen Ping'an glanced at him and nodded. "Yes."
Liu Xianyang swallowed.
Chen Ping'an suddenly asked, "Do you remember what Taoist Lu—I mean the fortune-teller at the stall—said to you?"
Liu Xianyang's head throbbed. After straining to recall, he scratched his head and said, "How would I remember that clearly? I only know it was some unpleasant, unlucky talk. Something about a great calamity, burning incense, all that nonsense. I just thought he was talking nonsense to cheat people out of money..."
Chen Ping'an turned to look at the black-clad young woman.
She said fiercely, "If he can't remember the divination slip himself, how am I supposed to interpret it for him? Do you really think I'm an immortal?!"
Chen Ping'an was a bit baffled, unable to figure out why Miss Ning had suddenly gotten so angry.
She strode out of the house with big steps, much more vigorous and forceful than when she had come in slowly.
The saber-wielding young woman walked along the wide alley, thinking to herself, "Maybe I should find some time to read a few books?"
When she thought about how, in the future, she would travel the world, swiftly fly her sword to cut off heads, and then follow up with a few impassioned impromptu poems—even if there was no one around—she felt it would be really cool!
――――
Just as the young woman was lost in her daydreams, a familiar figure flew past her shoulder.
"See you tomorrow, Miss Ning!"
By the time the voice landed, the figure was almost at the end of the alley.
The straw-sandal youth, carrying a bamboo basket, strode swiftly.
The young woman stood there dumbfounded, muttering to herself, "There really are money-grubbers like that?"