Chapter Twenty-One: The Jade-Seeking Residence

Wu Ning’s inn opened on the twenty-ninth, rather than the thirtieth—the day before the first of the month—for two main reasons.

The first was that his cheap but reliable elder brother, Meng Cangsheng, had chosen the date for him, declaring that the twenty-ninth of the seventh month was an auspicious day, free of taboos and blessed in all endeavors.

The second reason was that the vegetable cellar in the backyard was finally finished.

Now that the work was done, Seventh Brother and Old Eleven no longer needed to come by.

Wu Ning wanted to seize this moment, while everyone was still around, to treat them to a hearty meal in honor of his inn’s opening—a small token of gratitude. He also planned to extend the invitation to the elders from the hollow, as well as the clansmen who had lent a hand, so that all could share in the joy.

Thus, on the twenty-ninth, the Wu family compound celebrated the opening of the inn, though it would not yet conduct business.

The day before, Wu Ning took out five hundred coins and sent Wu Li and Wu Qi into town, returning with half a sheep.

Early in the morning on the twenty-ninth, Fifth Aunt led a battalion of aunts and female cousins to the Wu house to help. The courtyard, inside and out, bustled with people—some washing vegetables, some rinsing rice—just like during the New Year festivities.

Even the usually stern Old Ancestor, for once, wore a rare smile, bustling about as if this business were her own.

At noon, they set out ten tables or so; Wu Ning spared no expense. The food was abundant, and the wine flowed freely.

“Tiger, where’s your mother?” The feast was about to begin, yet Wu Ning hadn’t seen Seventh Aunt.

Though Seventh Aunt could be a bit sharp-tongued, on an occasion when nearly half the people from the hollow were present, it would be improper not to invite her.

Tiger, eyes glued to the platter of meat and drooling, replied carelessly, “Ma went to Chen Village for day labor. She’s been gone a few days, still hasn’t come back.”

It was harvest season; the vegetable fields in the lower valley were few, so most families could manage on their own. It was not like Chen Village, where the large landholders hired extra hands every year.

“Oh,” Wu Ning nodded. The gesture was made, but if she wasn’t in the hollow, nothing could be done.

“Well then, let Ancestor call the feast to order!”

...

“Jiulang, every inn has a name. Shouldn’t yours have one, too?” At the table, Sixth Uncle remembered the matter of naming the place.

He’d felt something missing these past few days, and only now realized—the inn had no name.

Wu Ning truly didn’t care much about naming it. After all, it was but a tiny place with just two rooms, and he was a fugitive. Was he supposed to hang a sign out front declaring “Such-and-Such Inn”? That would only attract unwanted attention.

But since Sixth Uncle brought it up, Wu Ning reconsidered. Having a name wasn’t a bad idea; at least people would have something to call it. If need be, he could simply forgo hanging a sign.

He looked to Old Ancestor. “Having a name is fine. Ancestor, would you give it one?”

“Me?” The old lady chuckled. “Your ancestor can’t read a lick; what would I know about naming a place? Let your uncle do it!”

Very well, the uncle was educated—let him decide.

Wu Ning turned, finding Ugly Uncle holding his wine bowl, deep in thought.

Truth be told, Ugly Uncle hadn’t wanted Wu Ning to open an inn, but after two months, the household had changed dramatically. He’d grown rather fond of the new arrangements in the courtyard.

A name… it seemed fitting.

“Let’s call it…”

Raising his eyes, he saw the verdant embrace of the mountains; lowering his gaze, he found nature’s artistry in the grass and trees.

“Let’s call it ‘Seeking Emerald Inn.’”

“Seeking Emerald?” Wu Ning murmured, “Seeking Emerald…”

Not bad! Seeking emerald amidst the mountains, it had a poetic air and matched the courtyard’s decor beautifully.

“Seeking Emerald…”

“Or perhaps, simply ‘Emerald Retreat?’”

“Emerald Retreat?” Ugly Uncle was taken aback, dropping the word “inn” and using just “retreat.”

“Marvelous! Truly ingenious!”

By omitting “inn,” the name shed all mercantile crudeness. Hearing “Emerald Retreat,” one would feel as if it were a home.

“Emerald Retreat it shall be!”

...

———

The name settled, the two fine rooms cleaned and ready, all that remained was to await guests.

On the twenty-ninth, there was no expectation of business, so Wu Ning simply invited the whole hollow to drink and feast until dusk.

Early the next morning, Fifth Aunt arrived again to help Wu Ning, Wu Li, and Wu Qi clean the courtyard from top to bottom, so it would be spotless for any travelers arriving that evening.

In the afternoon, Meng Cangsheng came dashing out from the Immortal’s View and refused to leave Wu Ning’s house, curious to see if anyone would actually stay at this inn.

As dusk approached, Sixth Uncle, Old Eleven, and Seventh Brother also arrived, driven by the same curiosity.

Even Fourth Uncle, Wu Changlu, made a special trip from town to spend the night, eager to see for himself.

Everyone sat around, waiting in Emerald Retreat all afternoon. Not a single guest appeared—not even a soul could be seen on the mountain path.

“Could it be that Daoist Xiao has lost his touch? No one’s coming to see him for divinations anymore?”

“Just wait!” Wu Ning remained calm, confident in the Daoist’s knack for attracting business.

At dusk, a trickle of people began making their way up the mountain.

“See?” Wu Changlu finally smiled in relief. “Daoist Xiao only casts lots in the morning and at dusk. Of course people would come before nightfall—who’d bother arriving earlier just to suffer in the midday heat?”

“But…” Wu Li, watching the growing stream of pilgrims, still felt uneasy.

“But everyone’s heading up the mountain, not stopping here!”

Wu Ning forced a laugh. “Isn’t it obvious? We don’t even have a sign. Who would know there’s an inn here?”

“Just wait until dark. No need to rush.”

...

As night fell, the flow of people heading up the mountain only increased.

Wu Ning did a quick count—at least a hundred had gone up. Even if Daoist Xiao worked from dawn till dusk, he couldn’t see them all in one day. Most would have to return tomorrow.

“Wu Li, hang the lantern outside.”

“Right away!” Wu Lao Ba had been waiting for this moment; to hang the lantern was to hang the sign.

But hanging a lantern at the door was not something to be done lightly; it carried meaning.

A pair of plain lanterns, hung high, was called “gate lanterns,” and only officials could display them that way.

A single lantern, or a string hung at mid-height, marked the place as an inn.

Of course, if you fancied a bit of flair and hung ornate lanterns, no one would stop you. But if you did, most who knocked at your door at night would be drunks or lechers—for decorative lanterns, whether at a shopfront or a private home, universally signified a brothel.

...

The lantern was hung, and it did have an effect. Pilgrims on the mountain path all took notice. No one had expected an inn in such a remote mountain village—how shrewd!

But seeing was one thing; though they now knew it was an inn, not a single person ventured over to inquire or seek lodgings.

The reason was simple—the place was too lowly.

Who came to seek Daoist Xiao’s divinations? The gentry and landowners from miles around. How could they lower themselves to stay at a rustic mountain inn? They’d sooner camp out in the wild than compromise their status.

“Why has no one come?” Night wore on; Fourth and Sixth Uncles, and Seventh Brother, could no longer stay awake and went home to sleep.

Only a few youngsters were left, still too excited to give up waiting.

“Don’t fret,” Wu Ning said calmly. “You think it’s easy to spend the night outdoors? Give it some time—someone will tire of it and come to us.”

...

And so it was. In July and August, the height of summer, deep in these thick, wild mountains at night, the mosquitoes swarmed with a vengeance.

Before long, someone gave in.

“Kejin, brother!”

Smack!

A young scholar slapped his own cheek, eyeing the lantern across the path. “Shall we go take shelter at the inn?”