Chapter 120 - One Hundred and Sixteen: Buried
Chapter 120 - One Hundred and Sixteen: Buried
Chapter 120: Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen: Buried
Together
Translator: 549690339
Mi Bai sprinted ahead, several stout men chasing him. Every time they were about to catch up, they would see the scholar shrink his body and squeeze into a small alley or between people, surrounded by imminent dangers.
Luckily, the new branch of Qingfeng Bank was not far from Fengqing Alley. In just a short while, they saw the main entrance of the shop.
The scholar continued his momentum, running directly into the pawnshop, leaving the men who were chasing him to glance at each other in confusion.
Even though the Righteous Gang had a huge reputation in the markets, they still felt an inner unease when it came to these family-run enterprises.
Especially well-established ones like Qingfeng Bank, they were suddenly unencouraged to pursue.
When Zhang Kuo, clutching his nose, arrived, he saw his men standing across the street from Qingfeng Bank, staring at the pawnshop like simpletons.
“Are you goddamn wooden-headed?” Zhang Kuo, his nasal bridge broken, cursed at them in a muffled voice.
An attentive subordinate saw Zhang Kuo arrive and whispered, “Boss, he ran into Qingfeng Bank.”
Zhang Kuo looked at the signboard of Qingfeng Bank, hated in his heart, and said viciously: “Two of you stand guard at the front, and the others go to the back. I do not believe that he will not come out.”
He did not believe that a poor scholar could have any connection with Qingfeng Bank. When the pawnshop closed, would the kid still be able to stay inside?
Mi Bai, on his holiday, entered the pawnshop and after greeting the shopkeeper, he went up to the second floor, opened a small window, and saw that the gang of thugs was squatting right across the pawnshop.
He felt bitter. It wasn’t for himself, but for those children. In this freezing winter, those children hiding in the abandoned courtyard depended on his charity to survive. If he was blocked in the shop, what would happen to them?
He could only hope that if they held out for a day and didn’t see him, they would disband.
Tang Mansion
The second family letter from Middle Ying City was in Xu Shuhui’s hands, urging her to push her nephew to finish things quickly and return as soon as possible so as not to delay.
But a year had passed since she had not even seen Xu Lao. What was she to urge?
Yuanzhou was only thirty thousand miles away from Longzhou. Even if traveling at the pace of a spiritual beast, it would only take three months to arrive. But the nephew’s prolonged absence made her a little worried, so she wrote a letter in reply.
Three days had passed.
Mi Bai had never known the patience of the thugs to be this good.
Whether it was the front door or the back door, the thugs on guard had never left. Even when the pawnshop was closed, they still stood like logs, as if they were determined to wait for him to come out.
“If I don’t leave, the children will starve.” Mi Bai thought to himself. He hadn’t gone to give the children food for three days. Though he had left them a bag of grain for the New Year, he guessed it should be finished by now.
He had originally intended to write a few door couplets to earn some money, but who knew he would lose a set of brushes, ink, paper, and inkstone and be pursued by thugs.
Mi Bai usually did not like to ask for help. Even when he accepted the position of clerk at Qingfeng Bank, he only had a nodding acquaintance with the shopkeeper and other staff. But now with bad people pressing him, he had no other choice.
He went up to the shopkeeper, and with a deep bow said, “Please, shopkeeper, save me.”
This pawnshop in West City, which belonged to the Feng family of Xiling that owned Qingfeng Bank, was managed by Feng Dezheng, the in-law of the Feng family, who held much power.
Feng Dezheng gently put down the porcelain in his hand and looked at Mi Bai, who was bowing, saying lightly, “Mr. Mi, what’s the matter?”
He did not like Mi Bai. Perhaps their horoscopes were incompatible, he loathed a decent scholar like Mi Bai to the core, especially as he never sent any gifts during festivals while being outwardly respectful. This showed he didn’t regard Feng Dezheng highly. Now that he has encountered a problem, he turned to him, the shopkeeper, as if taking him for a fool.
“Shopkeeper Feng, here’s the thing.” Mi said, recounting the incident of the couplet writing and the encounter with the thugs.
Feng Dezheng became more surprised as he listened and asked, “You say, the Righteous Gang is asking you to forge paintings?”
Mi Bai gave a bitter smile and said, “The ringleader is indeed a leader of the Righteous Gang, and he has been lying in wait outside the shop for three days.” The scholar’s request was simple: he just wanted the shopkeeper to send out the house guards to drive away the hoodlums, so he could deliver meals to the children.
Laughing, Feng Dezheng waved his hand reassuringly, “Rest assured, leave this matter to me.”
Mi Bai was overjoyed. He didn’t expect the shopkeeper Feng to be so agreeable. He had always thought that the shopkeeper didn’t like him; otherwise, he wouldn’t have kept his wages for three years without ever making mistakes.
It seems that judging others by oneself is a mistake. This is truly a warm-hearted boss. Mi Bai was grateful from the bottom of his heart, and after thanking him repeatedly, he left.
Feng Dezheng didn’t expect that what he thought was just a foolish scholar actually had such ability.
As the head of a shop, he always believed that the most profitable things were calligraphy and paintings.
Unlike armor and mythical creatures, these were solid goods that you couldn’t haggle over. If the pawn shop didn’t accept them, he could find elsewhere to sell.
The greatest advantage of famous works of calligraphy and painting is that you can lower the price drastically. The long-standing peace in Xiling made the sons of many prominent families love landscape and freehand brushwork, but there could only be so many renowned names in calligraphy and painting.
Take Mr. Huang Ting’s calligraphy copybooks, for example, each of them could sell for upwards of ten thousand gold, and they are hard to come by.
So, replicas became a big business. Those sons who pretend to appreciate fine arts were willing to pay a lot of money for calligraphy and painting, but were unable to distinguish the quality. They only know works by a few famous masters, which has created a market for replicas.
However, copying replicas is not for everyone. In this continent where everyone practices martial arts, most of the literates specialize in computational science, and there are very few who excel in calligraphy and painting. We won’t even talk about those scholars who have diligently studied literature for decades; their handwriting and painting are awkward to the eyes of laymen.
Feng Dezheng took out several of Mi Bai’s notebooks and looked at them carefully. To his delight, brilliant calligraphy skills had been right under his nose the whole time, yet he hadn’t noticed.
“Drive away those thugs across the street,” asked Feng Dezheng, as he summoned a guard.
“Master, I have something to report.” Fan Qing stood nervously in front of Tang Luo, saying hesitantly.
“Go on.” Tang Luo’s eyebrows knotted slightly, not understanding why the manager of the Tianxiang Building was looking for him. He knew that the money for Su Mei’s freedom had been delivered to Tianxiang Building after Zhang Xinghe’s death.
“Su Mei is dead.”
Tang Luo looked straight into Fan Qing’s eyes and indifferently asked, “How did she die?”
Wiping the non-existent sweat from his forehead, Fan Qing whispered, “Su Mei hanged herself at home. Probably because of unrequited love. There’s also a letter for you, lord.”
Fan Qing respectfully held out the letter, which still held a faint scent of rouge.
Though she committed suicide out of unrequited love, there’s no point reading the letter. All women are liars, she couldn’t even keep her promise of mourning for three years.
The truth is that when Tang Luo revealed Tung Tong’s true circumstances, he saw the will to die in Su Mei’s eyes, hence he specifically set up the rule of mourning for three years. Not even half a year had passed, women really are liars.
“Burn it.” Tang Luo had no intention of reading it. Now that she was dead, the letter was just some nonsense about suffering from heartache after the death of a loved one, and wanting to follow them in death.
Sometimes he really couldn’t understand. If men could be more straightforward about their difficulties and women wouldn’t be so suspicious and choose to trust instead, how could a loving couple end up in such a sorry state, witnessing it is truly upsetting.
“Have them buried together and if Su Mei had any friends at the Tianxiang building, let her take all her belongings. Just remember to offer some incense in her memory on the anniversary of her death.” Tang Luo held his forehead, instructed somberly.
“Yes, I will take care of it.” Fan Qing finally found some relief. The mental pressure in front of Tang Luo was too great for him.
Not only was Tang Luo the youngest clan aristocrat of the Tang lineage, but he was also the son of the First Head of the Martial Hall, the pride of Xiling City. As for his own mind and tactics, even a seasoned manager of pleasure houses like him hadn’t seen anything like it..