YM778.TV Chapter 87
We went back on the road thereafter.
Our destination isn’t too far this time, so we’ll arrive sometime in the evening.
Before entering Lingyang city, I hesitated. The scene I’ll see after will be much more desperate than that of Xinyang. I need to mentally prepare myself first.
“Are there people starving to death these days?” I ask in a low voice.
Guo Zhengtong’s voice is also very low. “Yes.”
After entering, though, the situation in the city isn’t as dismal as I believed it’d bed.
The flood had passed through here and broken many houses, but there’s people still repairing them. There’s no piles and piles of people laying in the street or anything, either.
There’s many people on the road spreading news of something. Though each person looks famished and lacking in strength, there’s a strange sort of excitement filling the air.
Furthermore, there’s many congee kitchens on the street.
Guo Zhengtong looked at the queues before the the kitchens, and can’t help the cheer from emerging on his face. “The food escort came!”
Xiao Lu asked with befuddlement from the side, “Sir Guo, how do you know?”
Guo Zhengtong happily rubbed his hands. “After the flood, I brought some people back to gather things up, and fortunately there was some food accumulated from last year stored elsewhere. It wasn’t much, but it could barely be enough to survive… however, a few days before there were no more grains, so I went to hasten the provisions… now they’re open and cooking again, so doesn’t that mean the food escorts arrived?”
I can’t stop from smiling looking at how excited he is.
At this time, a jolly, robust young man in his twenties in a bailiff’s outfit ran over. “Sir! sir! You came back! Food is here! A lot of carts came with food!”
“Don’t be so unrestrained! A gentleman from the capital is here! Are not you not going to give proper respect to him?” Guo Zhengtong chides him, but is unable to cover up his grin.
The young man kowtowed to me, and I waved to have him get up. The excitement in the city has infected us, with everyone working vigorously. I even temporarily forget about Jinzi as I go.
Next up is to take inventory. Guo Zhengtong handed me an account book to look over; his calculated amount of grain and money needed for whatever restoration plan there was a little bit less than my own rough estimate. I checked it all one by one, discovering that he really was someone who planned and accounted meticulously.
This is a very large amount of funds, but now the treasury has the addition of the donated foodstuffs, so that much can be taken out, consoling me by a lot.
Guo Zhengtong saw my approval and is clearly quite glad, enthusiastically wiping his sweat off.
As it’s already entered the evening, dinner wasn’t in my mind. The rest of my group is probably resting. I stretch, looking up from the pile of ledgers, and take a deep breath.
I feel as if I’ve returned to the days before of working overtime, and for a split second, I almost thought that I truly was. That I could just stand up, put my high heels back on, stagger out of the office and not see a soul in sight, secretly praying that the little store with midnight snacks not far behind the office wasn’t closed yet so I could eat a bowl of piping-hot jiuniang tangyuan.
Even deep within the height of summer, one still needs a bit of something similar to warmth.
A person’s heart will be as hollow as their stomach, and when they’re full, they’re often less likely to be upset.
If this were ten days ago, Jinzi should have now been waiting for me outside in the night’s ambience, but of course he’s not so today.
I walk away from the narrow cottage. Outside the broken-down building and under the moonlight, the dust and clamor isn’t so prominent. A sturdy laurel tree on the other side of the courtyard has specks of luster dancing across its illuminated dark green leaves, giving one a profound impression.
I thought about Jinzi and what he was up to at this time. As I turned a corner, I caught sight of someone covering a cart, and came closer to take a look: it’s Guo Zhengtong’s pimply domestic/bookboy. Seeing me, his hands drooped and shoulders stiffened. “Sir Zhang,” he said uncomfortably.
I smile a bit. “You’ve arrived? Since when? And where is this going?”
The servant boy who Guo Zhengtong seemed to call “Shitou” lowered his head and spoke in small voice. “Sir instructed this lowly one to to bring rations to the Old Madam, and I was just going to go.”
[T/N: Shitou literally just means “rock”.]
I had a thought. “What food is it? Let me see.”
“Shitou” fidgeted shyly for a long time, then handed over a half-full, deflated-looking sack. I open it and look at it through the moonlight; it seems to some beans, some sorghum grains, and some maize.
“Is this all you’re sending? How often do you send things to her?”
“Sir sends it over in person most of the time, but he really has no time, so he called this lowly one to go.”
“Does she ordinarily live alone with no one to care for her?”
“Sir is always wanting to buy a maid, but he never has the money for it.”
I nod. “You go on now, don’t make the old lady wait.”
The ox-cart leaves. I’m quite tired, but there’s still a final thing I must do tonight.
I walk through the streets, passing by Lingyang’s jail.
The jail wasn’t badly damaged by the previous flood and isn’t an issue for those shut up within. I vaguely remember seeing a well when we came in, and next to that well was a strange locust tree slanted at a 30 degree angle from the ground.
Relying on my memory, I wander over.
Sure enough, I saw the well. Elated, I went over, but something seemed to move from the crooked neck of that locust tree, causing me to jump in fear.
The thing sat up and smiled. “You finally came.”
My panic started to settle. “What are you doing here?” I ask unhappily.
“Waiting for you.” Yuan Qingyun laid back down on the slanted trunk. “I didn’t think you’d come out so late. I started watching the stars without realizing it.” He sighed faintly.
Witnessing Yuan Qingyun actually be wistful and playing the guest performance of a “youth with many worries looking at the stars” makes me want to laugh a bit.
However, he’s actually only 21 or so, right? In modern times, he would barely be considered a young adult. Ancient people got married early, some starting a family at fifteen or sixteen, which seems too precocious. But when all’s said and done, after humanity has several milleniums to multiply, what would would end up being considered mature?
He also seems to be truly sullen, tonight.
“What are you thinking of?” I unconsciously slow my voice.
“Oh.” He stretched out, enthusiasm waning a bit. It’s rare for his attractive face to not be smiling, but he still has that lazy, needs-a-beating look. His voice is low and husky, “…I’m thinking of something from a real long time ago. When I held down Xiao Lan… sometimes I get a bit confused… and don’t know if it was right.”
I laugh. “How is it ever so easy to tell right from wrong?! You can never know which decision is the right one, but almost everyone else rushes to let you know: you should do this, you should do that, practicality is more important, dreams are more important, there’s no such thing as too much money, nothing is better than happiness… everyone talks like they’re certain, but in reality, no one knows what’s right or wrong. All we can do is pick our path and walk down it with no regrets, no matter what we suffer through…”
Yuan Qingyun suddenly moved, sweeping over, his face pressed too close and scaring me into backing up a step. Noticing his burning stare on me, I get a bit embarrassed. “What are you doing?”
He’s still wandering his gaze ponderously in circles about my face. “Your words… are really strange…”
I force out a smile. “Are they…?”
He lowered his head in thought, then nodded with certainty. “Mhm, they are.” Then he raised it and grinned. “Well, whatever. Do you still want to go interrogate those two bandits?”
I recalled my purpose in coming. “Yes, yes,” I said quickly.
Prison. Prisons all over the land wouldn’t be much worse.
Eternally stinky, eternally filthy, eternally never lacking in bedbugs and mice, and eternally dimly-lit.
Lingyang’s governmental jail is only a tad bit different: there’s only two people shut up here.
During the flood before, prisoners inside who hadn’t drowned had since escaped.
The young jailer wrapped up in a blanket behind us carried a lamp, yawning.
Young folk are always overly sleepy. Only my Jinzi can get up and practice at five o’clock every morning. It’s like getting up early has never been difficult for him.
The jailer opened the cell door, and the two sleeping bandits were awakened.
“Shit’s sake, give your old man a break! [1] You thin, white-skinned little fuckboy, you’ll break into two when this old man pinches you!”
“I’m not afraid of you! Fucking go ahead and chop my head off.”
Very nice, such classic lines. Using them is useless in these circumstances.
Was that to demonstrate their inner qualities of being a bandit?
I glanced at the clothes they wore. It’s quite good material, not at all what victims forced into robbery due to hunger would have.
I look for a chair to sit down on, yawn, and tiredly instruct, “Move all the instruments of torture over here.”
I ended up not having to wait too long, as Yuan Qingyun’s very good at this, going from what he forced me into last time. And, to speak truthfully of these two bandits, the more vicious stuff they spew from their mouth, the more cowardly they often are.
With only half an ear cut off and a few of Yuan Qingyun’s professionally threatening words, they’re shouting “we’ll confess”.
I call for the jailer to take them into another room alone and confess separately.
They both brought up the same name: Sir Lu.
[1] Original sentence was: 格老子的，趁早放了你爹！ The first part doesn’t mean anything literally, but included laozi (your father), and the second part basically says “let your dad go ASAP”.