Chapter Sixty-One: The Height of Xiashan Pass

"You’re always running into town and not keeping an eye on the inn…” Wu Changlu frowned at Wu Ning. “The old man is probably going to give you another beating, isn’t he?”

Wu Ning didn’t care; he grabbed the kettle on the table and poured water straight into his mouth.

“Grandfather?”

“He wouldn’t dare lay a finger on me,” Wu Ning replied.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“I make money for him!” Wu Ning declared confidently. “Now when the old man sees me, he’s even happier than when he sees you, his own son!”

“Hah!” Wu Changlu burst out laughing. “All because you sold all the radishes in the valley?”

He stood, straightening his tunic and armor. “I’ve heard about it. Lately there’s a ‘Little Radish Gentleman’ in town, selling only the best crisp radishes. People are fighting over them!”

“Alas!” Wu Ning sighed deeply. “A pity, a pity—the Little Radish Gentleman has to retire from the world, to return next year.”

“Huh?” Wu Changlu was taken aback. “They’re all gone? Sold out?”

You had to know, Wu Ning not only had seven or eight acres of radishes from his own family, but also several acres from Fifth Uncle, and some from Sixth Uncle. Altogether that’s quite a lot, and in only half a month, all sold?

“Of course they’re all sold out.”

“Wait a second!” With that, Wu Ning ran out to the ox cart in the courtyard and lugged back a large sack, struggling to carry it inside.

He slammed it onto the table. “This is Fourth Uncle’s radish money. I brought it all for you.”

…

Such a big sack, filled to the brim with money?

“How much is this?”

“Ten strings and two hundred coins in total.”

“No way.” Wu Changlu was stunned. He opened the sack, and sure enough, it was all money. “I only have a little over seven acres. How could it be this much?”

In previous years, seven acres of radishes would fetch maybe one string of coins, and that was during good times. How had Wu Ning managed to multiply it tenfold in just a couple months?

He didn’t know that Wu Ning hadn’t earned the nickname Little Radish Gentleman for nothing. He’d sold them for four, five, six, even eight coins a pound—nothing like previous years.

“Fourth Uncle, just wait until the end of the year to sell cabbages for another windfall!”

Now everyone had tasted the sweetness, and for the last autumn harvest, not a single family sold their cabbages. They all stored them in their cellars, waiting for the New Year to make a tidy profit.

“Look at you!” Wu Changlu scolded with a laugh. “Alright, the radishes are sold, so stay in the valley from now on and stop running into town!”

---

“Wang Hongyi is left with nothing—no money, no people—and can’t catch Qin Wenyuan. He’s got nowhere to vent his anger.”

“Damn it!” Hearing this, Wu Ning didn’t cower but swore loudly. “I get mad just thinking about that bastard. He’s really domineering!”

“Hm? What happened?”

“He forced me to sell—all my radishes, he bought them.”

“He didn’t pay you?”

“He paid, and not badly either. Eight coins a pound.”

“Then what’s your complaint?” Wu Changlu rolled his eyes. Why wasn’t this kid satisfied?

What was Wu Ning’s complaint? He just didn’t like the way Wang Hongyi did business—forcing him to sell, whether he wanted to or not. The Prince of Luling’s mansion not only bought all the radishes he wanted to sell, but even those he didn’t want to sell. That included the portion Wu Ning kept for the inn and the winter vegetables stored by various families.

Now, you couldn’t find a single radish in Lower Mountain Valley—the Prince’s guards had carted them all away. And they had a perfect reason: Of all of Fangzhou, your radishes are the freshest, so naturally they must supply the Prince’s mansion and the capital first.

Now Wu Ning had to go into town to buy wilted radishes if he wanted soup.

“That’s enough.”

Wu Changlu didn’t see the problem after hearing Wu Ning’s explanation. “Eight coins a pound—what more do you want?”

He picked up his sword and headed for the door. “Get back to the valley. I’ve got duties to attend to.”

“Wait.” Wu Ning stopped him. “There’s something else.”

“What is it?”

“Well…” He hesitated. “With Wang Hongyi and Sun Hongde at odds, don’t you think this is an opportunity?”

Wu Changlu frowned. “Opportunity for what?”

“I’m telling you, stay out of grown-ups’ business. Go back to the valley and look after your inn!”

“Alright, alright.” Wu Ning expected nothing more. It was a pointless question.

…

After leaving Fourth Uncle’s house, Wu Ning wandered slowly through the streets, his head bowed and thoughts occupied.

Just as he’d said, this was an opportunity—a once-in-a-lifetime chance.

To put it plainly, Fangzhou was different from other places because of the Prince of Luling’s mansion and Wang Hongyi, which made Fangzhou a three-way power struggle in military and government.

Sun Hongde handled administration, Wu Changlu commanded the provincial army, and Wang Hongyi, though lacking real authority, had a special status.

Normally, the three kept out of each other’s affairs. Even if they disliked each other, none could do anything about it.

---

Of the three, only Wu Changlu, after years as a Colonel, hadn’t moved up—he was considered to have little future.

But now things were different. The imperial envoy was in Fangzhou, breaking the balance. And just as Wang Hongyi and Sun Hongde were feuding, Wu Changlu, the “dead fish,” had a chance to turn things around.

Wu Ning couldn’t help but feel this was a perfect opportunity—the fisherman profits when the snipe and clam quarrel.

The only regret was that Fourth Uncle was too upright to indulge in political scheming.

But you can’t avoid it! If you don’t scheme, others will scheme against you.

Besides, Fourth Uncle was Lower Mountain Valley’s only hope—no doubt about it.

How high Wu Changlu could rise mattered greatly to Lower Mountain Valley and to Wu Ning himself.

Without Fourth Uncle as commander, would Wu Ning, a runaway tenant, dare to open an inn? Dare to strike a county magistrate’s son? Dare to poach the Prince’s chef?

Even Wang Hongyi’s forced purchase of his vegetables was only because Lower Mountain Valley was the commander’s hometown, so he couldn’t be too tyrannical—hence the price of eight coins a pound.

Otherwise, as an ordinary peasant, Wang Hongyi could have paid whatever he pleased—or nothing at all. Who would Wu Ning complain to?

So, when Wu Changlu wouldn’t consider it, Wu Ning had to think for him.

With that, Wu Ning stopped walking. He wasn’t going to leave town after all.

…

“Oh, isn’t that Little Gentleman Wu!”

Lost in thought, Wu Ning was stopped by someone who recognized him and approached obsequiously.

“Are you here to see Commander Wu, Little Gentleman?”

Wu Ning stared at the man for a moment, then remembered—he was the officer who’d taken him to Fourth Uncle’s house the other day.

“So it’s you, Officer. It’s been a while—how have you been?”

Excellent, Wu Ning thought with delight. Brother, you’re just the man I need!

“Officer, just in time. I need to go to the prefectural yamen to discuss matters between my Fourth Uncle and Magistrate Sun. Would you care to accompany me?”

The officer was momentarily stunned, then instinctively nodded.

Helping the commander with official business? That’s a good thing!

…