Watching the middle-aged man walk away, Wang Jing turned his head to find that the crowd had already dispersed, leaving only Liu Sanniang looking at him with a grievance-laden gaze.
Wang Jing calmly walked up to her and comforted her, "Madam, there's no need to be upset. I'll make another trip to the spiritual stream in a couple of days and bring you a whole basket then. How about thirty wen per catty?!"
"Really?! Don't go pulling this old lady's leg, young man!"
Wearing an expression of absolute conviction, Wang Jing patted his chest and guaranteed, "Don't you worry!"
Once the woman had departed happily, Wang Jing felt extremely satisfied with his performance.
First, Wang Jing went to the money shop to exchange five taels of gold for loose change. Carrying copper coins was too inconvenient, so he directly traded them for fifty taels of silver, which he stuffed into his money pouch, making it bulge roundly.
Arriving at an inn, he bought wine and meat, then returned to Chen Ping'an's home with bags and bundles.
Chen Ping'an returned after dark. Faced with the pile of sumptuous wine, meat, and dishes crowding the kitchen counter, he showed no joy; instead, he looked deeply worried.
Panicking, he quickly shut the door. Anxiety practically overflowed from his expression as he asked in a low voice, "Wang Jing, did you go and rob someone?!"
Wang Jing burst into loud laughter, looking immensely smug as he declared, "That's right, I completely cleaned out Song Jixin's place!"
Hearing this, Chen Ping'an turned deathly pale with fright. He rushed frantically out of the house, and across the low courtyard wall, he yelled at the top of his lungs, "Song Jixin, has your house been robbed?!"
Song Jixin burst out of his room and cursed angrily, "Can't you ever wish me something good, you goddamn bastard? Your own house is the one that got robbed!"
Chen Ping'an was left completely baffled, only to see Wang Jing shaking his head and laughing wildly inside the room.
Back inside the humble house, the alley teenager still refused to give up. So many dishes of wine and meat were something he wouldn't even dare to imagine in his waking hours, though he had seen them in his dreams. Swallowing hard, he probed tentatively, "Wang Jing, is the money obtained through proper means?"
With a gulp of rice wine, Wang Jing slapped his chest heavily and guaranteed, "Go ahead and eat your fill. I earned this money fair and square!"
Only then did Chen Ping'an feel at ease. Snatch up a chicken leg, he devoured it completely in three bites two.
He admired this lonely, suffering teenager; even when placed in such desperate adversity, he still wanted to make sure the money came from a righteous source, never once thinking of cheating or swindling.
This was also Chen Ping'an's first time drinking. Although it was just rice wine, he quickly became drunk.
Wang Jing helped him lie down on the wooden bed, covering him with all the thin tunics and tattered cotton quilts the household possessed.
Then he fetched an old, worn porcelain basin, gathered some firewood, and lit it to raise the room's temperature.
Outside, the wind and snow picked up again. Wang Jing had an exceptional capacity for liquor; warming wine over the bonfire, he drank cup after cup. It wasn't that he disdained the crude accommodations; it was simply that the thought of two grown men squeezing onto a single bed felt a bit strange...
He remembered how Song Jixin had tossed copper coins at him earlier that day, treating him with the humiliation of an almsgiver dismissing a beggar. Stirred by the alcohol, he pushed open the door and vaulted into Song Jixin's courtyard.
Song Jixin's house was brightly lit. With just a brief glance, Wang Jing could tell there were no fewer than five rooms.
The maid Zhigui was extremely vigilant toward this uninvited guest. "What kind of person are you?!"
Wang Jing eyed the young girl, a playful expression on his face, before finally letting out a look of disappointment. "What a pity. My tastes happen to be just like Cao Cao's."
Although Zhigui didn't understand the meaning of his words, she concluded they must be filthy obscenities. Her almond-shaped eyes flashed with a golden light, her fists clenched tight, and she seemed to harbor murderous intent!
At that moment, however, Wang Jing let out a startled cry—he had accidentally stepped on a lizard!
Song Jixin also charged into the main hall, furious. "You're trespassing in a private residence! Are you seriously trying to act like a bandit?!"
Wang Jing flipped out two taels of silver, deliberately tossing them onto Song Jixin's shoulder. The silver bounced off, rolled a few times across the bluestone floor, and finally spun to a stop.
This settled the score. Wang Jing spoke as if it were only natural, "Your grandpa here is tired and wants to stay the night. This is the rent!"
"My house isn't an inn! Go look for somewhere else to lodge!"
Wang Jing paid no attention whatsoever to Song Jixin's reaction. Instead, he looked at Zhigui, a seductive smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "This master of yours only knows how to put on a bluff. You actually have more guts than he does."
Their gazes met, and Zhigui's heart suddenly trembled. Her murderous intent faded away, and she kept silent.
Wang Jing walked indifferently into an empty room, his voice trailing behind him. "I know you're the illegitimate son of former Grand Supervisor Song. If you have the ability, go complain to your dad!"
Song Jixin's face turned pale with rage, yet he seemed completely helpless against this rascal. It was truly a case of scholars meeting soldiers—reason was useless!
When Wang Jing fell soundly asleep, his snores began to shake the room.
With a gloomy expression, Song Jixin spoke softly to the maid Zhigui, "First thing tomorrow morning, bring him a cup of tea. I'm going to poison him to death!"
There was neither sorrow nor joy on Zhigui's face—or rather, she was completely expressionless. She simply nodded gently.
————
Before the rooster crowed, Wang Jing woke up and returned to Chen Ping'an's house.
A pair of golden-yellow eyes peered out from the shadows, seeming lost in thought...
Chen Ping'an was still fast asleep. Only a few embers glowed inside the fire basin. Wang Jing fetched more firewood and rekindled the fire.
Before long, the fragrance of rice wafted from the humble kitchen.
Chen Ping'an woke up, stretched his back luxuriously, and sighed, "It's so warm! Wang Jing, did you stay awake the whole night?!"
Wang Jing placed all the steaming hot food onto the bamboo table. "I didn't sleep long, but I'm full of energy!"
Looking at the sumptuous dishes before him, Chen Ping'an felt a wave of deep emotion. "How many years has it been? This familiar feeling... I only ever had it when my parents were still around..."
Chen Ping'an quickly washed his face with snow, sat down at the table, and began to eat with gusto.
Wang Jing kept shoveling rice porridge into his mouth while rarely touching the side dishes. Feeling as though he were looking at his own father, Chen Ping'an asked in confusion, "How come you're not eating the dishes?!"
Wang Jing replied, "I drank too much last night. Drinking porridge is good for the stomach..."
At that moment, the front door was knocked open. Zhigui walked in with calm and graceful movements, holding an exquisite tea tray in her hands. On it sat a green porcelain pot paired with two delicate little green tea cups.
She set the tea tray aside, leaned down to place the cups on the table, and then picked up the porcelain pot to pour two cups of fragrant, steaming tea, flattering them with a compliment:
"My young master was far too petty before, studying only the superficial theories of ivory-tower books without knowing that neighbors ought to live in harmony. He has suddenly seen the light, and specifically commanded me to serve you both tea and offer an apology."
Even Chen Ping'an could spot the trickery behind such abnormal behavior. "Zhigui, even though I don't understand the fancy terms you're using, if this is an apology, shouldn't he come in person to be more appropriate?!"
Zhigui gave an awkward smile and said softly, "It snowed heavily all night last night. The master's constitution is frail, and unfortunately, he caught a chill, which is why he couldn't come himself."
Wang Jing looked at Zhigui with a playful gaze. "You look even frailer than he is. What's the matter, did he suck you dry?"
In an instant, Zhigui flew into a towering rage. Her eyes split wide with fury, her face twisted hideously, and she formed her hand into a claw, aiming straight for the crown of Wang Jing's head!
Everything happened in the blink of an eye!
Yet suddenly, time froze!
The figure of a middle-aged Confucian scholar in white robes materialized. Though his temples were frosted with white, he possessed an ethereal grace, and a gentle, jade-like aura emanated from his entire body. He was like a red plum blossom proudly blooming and diffusing its fragrance beneath the winter snow.
With a light wave of his hand, Zhigui's body was instantly sent flying out into the courtyard...
Wang Jing, Chen Ping'an, and even the townsfolk were trapped in the stillness, standing motionless like ice sculptures!
The middle-aged Confucian scholar carried himself with imposing dignity, every gesture effortless and serene, perfectly embodying the demeanor of a great master unfazed by turbulent waves!
He quietly walked out of the house. Even the wind and snow had frozen in place!
Only Zhigui recovered her movement. Taking heavy, gasping breaths, she glared at him with furious indignation, "Qi Jingchun! As a sage stationed in the Liuli Blessed Land, how can you play favorites?!"
The middle-aged Confucian scholar smiled faintly. Toying with a motionless snowflake right before his eyes, he spoke with detached calm, "Wang Zhu, Chen Ping'an saved you, and you formed a pact with him. Back then, it seemed to be a snowy day just like this."
Wang Zhu knelt in the courtyard's snow, laughing bitterly, looking like a great white goose.
"Qi Jingchun, three thousand years have passed—sixty years for Confucianism, sixty years for Buddhism, another sixty years for Daoism, and two hundred and forty spring, summer, autumn, and winter seasons for the Strategists. It goes on in an endless cycle, looping without end.
All these scores, I, Wang Zhu, keep engraved in my heart!"