Chapter Sixty-Three: Softhearted

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Leaving the yamen, Wu Ning exhaled a long, heavy breath.

“Three years’ exile in Yizhou,” Wu Ning thought to himself. This is as far as I can go.

...

After saying his farewells to Wei Dalang, Wu Ning didn’t linger in the city but returned straight to Xiashan’ao.

Before he even entered the little valley, he saw cart after cart laden with branches and fallen leaves being brought in unceasingly.

Looking up, the slopes were densely spread with cabbages laid out to dry; the whole valley echoed with voices and bustle, rivaling the liveliness of the city itself.

“This is life!”

Wu Ning didn’t even notice that his face was now lit up with a broad smile.

Fulfilling, busy, and full of hope!

...

Back home, Dugu Ao and Lei Ji were drinking and composing poems in the courtyard with two other lodgers, while Qiao’er, cradling a wine flask, served them like a little god of fortune.

In the kitchen, smoke curled from the stove, carrying the tempting aroma of cooking rice.

Everything was in perfect order.

Seeing he wasn’t needed, Wu Ning washed his face, greeted Li Wenbo, and stepped back out to look for Wu Li in the valley.

Unfortunately, he didn’t find Old Eight, but instead ran into the Old Ancestor himself.

“Did you deliver the money to your fourth uncle?”

“I did.”

The Old Ancestor was now directing everyone in the valley, overseeing the drying of the cabbages with the air of a general surveying his realm. Hearing Wu Ning had delivered the money, he was visibly relieved; after all, over ten strings of cash was no small sum in his eyes.

Turning, he pointed at the vast expanse of cabbages, “Won’t drying these make them lose a lot of weight? Is it really necessary?”

“It is!” Wu Ning quickly dispelled the old man’s faint greed.

“If you don’t dry the outer leaves, they’ll rot in the cellar.”

Cabbage wasn’t like radishes; unless you let them lose some moisture, they wouldn’t keep for long.

“Trust me, you can’t afford to be careless here.”

The old man still looked a bit regretful.

“By the way, I’ve already asked your fifth uncle and the others to organize the digging of the cellar. Later, go and check on it—see if it’s big enough to store all these cabbages.”

“All right!”

Wu Ning was a little speechless. It’s just a cellar—did the Old Ancestor have to be so serious?

He’d tasted the sweetness of storing radishes; this autumn, not a single cabbage would be sold—all would be cellared away to be sold at a high price come New Year.

But if memory served, when Wu Ning first proposed storing radishes, the old man was completely against it and had even scolded him roundly.

“Tomorrow, then. I have something to discuss with Wu Li.”

“Fine!” the Old Ancestor agreed at once. “Go ahead, then—Old Eight is at the kiln, helping to lay bricks.”

“Oh, right!!”

Before Wu Ning could take a step, the old man called him back again. “When it’s time to move the cabbages into the cellar, you need to be careful—don’t let your lodgers see!”

“Never mind.” The old man shook his head. “I’ll have your fifth uncle help you move the cabbages and cover up the cellar entrance. We can’t let others learn our trick.”

“…”

Wu Ning was utterly speechless.

“Is that all?”

“That’s all.”

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“Then I’m leaving?”

“Get out!” the Old Ancestor shouted with a laugh. “You brat, getting impatient with your old ancestor!”

...

Wu Ning walked away, shaking his head and smiling. The old man had been poor for so long that he treated everything like treasure.

At the kiln, he found Wu Li playing with clay.

“Come on, go into town with me.”

“Didn’t you just get back from the city?”

Wu Ning glared at him. “Just go, will you! Don’t talk so much nonsense!”

“All right, all right! You’re the boss!”

Wu Li went home to wash up, and by the time he returned, Wu Ning had already loaded some two hundred pounds of the finest cabbages onto the ox cart.

“Didn’t the Old Ancestor say not to sell any?”

“They’re not for sale. They’re a gift.”

...

The two of them drove the ox cart back to the city.

Once inside, Wu Ning headed straight for Yongping Lane.

Wu Li then realized that Wu Ning intended to deliver the cabbages to the Qin family.

But when they reached the corner of the street, still some distance from the Qin residence, Wu Ning stopped the cart.

He said to Wu Li, “Take the cabbages over and tell Steward Qin that Qin Wenyuan will be allowed to return from exile in Yizhou in three years—let their family rest easy. If they wish to visit him in prison, they only need to spend a little money.”

Wu Li was perplexed—why send him instead of going himself?

Stiff-necked, he protested, “I’m no good with words—I’ll mess it up.”

“Will you go or not?” Wu Ning glared.

“But what’s the point?”

“It puts my mind at ease.”

“He dug his own grave for money—what’s that to you?”

“That’s enough.” Wu Ning didn’t want to argue. “Fine, I’ll call you my eighth brother—now hurry up!”

“Weirdo!”

Wu Li muttered, but in the end, he drove the cart over.

...

Wu Li truly was no smooth talker, and rather blunt as well.

Arriving at the Qin residence, he knocked and asked for Qin Fu.

When Qin Fu came out, Wu Li said nothing, just started unloading cabbages.

Qin Fu was bewildered—his family hadn’t bought any cabbages, so what was this about?

He was about to object, but Wu Li had already finished.

Then, in a flat tone, he said, “Qin Wenyuan will serve exile in Yizhou, and can return in three years. If you want to visit him, just bribe the right people.”

With that, he snapped the reins—“Hyah!”—and drove off.

Qin Fu stood in the doorway, stunned for a long moment, before suddenly slapping his thigh. “Wonderful news!”

Ignoring the cabbages, he shouted, “Where is the mistress?”

A servant replied, “She’s gone out.”

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“And the madam?”

“In the inner quarters.”

Qin Fu turned and hurried inside. “Madam, wonderful news!”

Exile in Yizhou!

What kind of place was Yizhou? In terms of political standing, it was the auxiliary capital, just behind Chang’an and Luoyang. In terms of wealth, there was the saying: first Yangzhou, second Yizhou—the richest places in the realm.

Qin Wenyuan had been sentenced to exile in Yizhou, and not imprisonment, but exile. It was almost as if he hadn’t been punished at all—more like being sent on a journey!

...

——

Meanwhile, Wu Li left the Qin house with the ox cart, returned to the street corner, and found Wu Ning sitting in a roadside soup stall.

He tied up the ox cart and sat across from Wu Ning. “Scholar, bring the wine!”

“Did you give the message?”

“I did.”

“Good.”

When the light wine came, Wu Li downed half a bowl in one go.

“Did you help Qin Wenyuan get off so lightly?”

“More or less.”

“Then why didn’t you go to the Qin house yourself and earn their gratitude? Who knows—Qin Miaoniang might have pledged herself to you on the spot.”

Wu Ning rolled his eyes. “What nonsense! I didn’t do it for her.”

“Then why?”

Wu Ning shook his head, unable to explain.

After a moment, he muttered, “I came up with the idea, after all. If something happened to Qin Wenyuan in prison, I’d feel guilty.”

“Pfft!” Wu Li scoffed.

Only today did he realize Wu Ning actually had a soft side.

The two of them drank a little wine, chatted idly, and as night fell, Wu Ning settled the account and prepared to head back to the valley.

But just as they left the stall, Wu Ning suddenly gripped Wu Li’s arm tightly.

“Hold me up!”

“Hold you up for what? It was just a little wine—how can you…”

Halfway through his sentence, Wu Li fell silent, because two young ladies in fluttering dresses were slowly approaching from a distance.

Wu Li glanced at Wu Ning, only to see the latter gripping his arm, staring blankly ahead as if he were blind.

...