Chapter 70: A Missed Appointment

Zuo Gui slowly nodded, stroking his beard, and sighed.

“We were frightened indeed. Before the rebels even reached Hezhou, thirty or forty per cent of Shijing’s people had fled. We thought of leaving too. But our son-in-law said the imperial army was coming, and that these rebels were relatively humane. They wanted public support, so even if they took the town, they would not kill and loot indiscriminately. That was why we stayed.”

Hou Pu smiled, rather proud.

“Exactly. Those rebels were different. Feng Li and Xue Wanqi were formerly great court generals, men of the crown prince and fourth prince. They wanted to win the people and seize the empire, so they treated ordinary folk quite humanely.”

Shaoyang was genuinely shocked.

“The fighting was in neighbouring prefectures and counties?”

“Of course! At their nearest, the rebels were only a hundred-odd li from Shijing. They were vicious—burning, killing and plundering along the way. So many died that bones lay everywhere. I hear many still haven’t been buried.

“And last month, before the New Year, Xiaochang, Prince of Yi’an and governor of Lizhou, and Liu Deyu, general of the Right Martial Guard, rebelled too. More bodies everywhere. That only quietened before the year ended.”

Shaoyang listened wide-eyed. He had known that a new dynasty would face fighting. Even the founding of modern China had been followed by years of suppressing bandits. He had imagined small engagements of that sort, not great battles leaving fields of corpses—and so close to him.

The family’s frightened faces pleased Hou Pu. He enjoyed having inside information. In truth, the news was not secret; ancient transport and communications were simply so poor that ordinary people knew little of events elsewhere. The yamen received official dispatches and therefore knew the major affairs.

He sipped his wine, took a mouthful of food, then resumed his mysterious whisper.

“The former crown prince Li Jiancheng and Prince of Qi Li Yuanji—the present emperor’s two brothers—were killed by His Majesty, but many followers escaped to different regions. They’re all plotting revolt.

“With the country like this, who dares waste money on fields? The court has been selling ownerless abandoned land for ages. Anyone can buy. Top-quality fields began at three taels a mu and have fallen to two, yet hardly anyone wants them. The court is worried too.

“And it isn’t only fields. Fine houses are cheap as anything, with no buyers!”

Shaoyang’s mind stirred.

Coming from the future, he knew the Reign of Zhenguan was one of China’s famed ages of peace and prosperity. This was only its first year, but more than a century of tranquillity lay ahead. There was no need to fear war.

The people living now did not know that. They saw a country still in turmoil and remembered the wars at the end of the Sui. No one dared spend freely on fields or houses.

For anyone with money, buying property now would be extraordinarily worthwhile.

But his own family was penniless, eating dark-flour buns with wild greens, sleeping on straw and burdened with debt. However cheap the property, they could not buy it. Even if they somehow did, they could not afford to leave it idle while waiting for prices to rise.

He sighed deeply.

“If only I had money. Buy plenty of fields and houses, rent them out, and live on the income!”

Hou Pu smiled and shook his head.

“I told you, even if you had it, don’t think that way. Keep the silver safely in your purse. If you can see a way to get rich, do you think others can’t? If they aren’t doing it, they have a reason.”

Shaoyang smiled without answering.

“Enough talking,” Madam Liang said. “Eat and drink. The food’s cold!”

They returned to the meal. Shaoyang arranged for Hou Pu to check the yamen records the next morning, see which waste land had already been registered and go with him outside town at noon to inspect possible plots.

A single flask shared among three men, especially with Hou Pu’s considerable capacity, did not last long. After eating they talked a little more, but with no charcoal fire, sitting still was cold. At the sound of the first watch, Hou Pu’s family took their leave.

Shaoyang brought the squirrel down, fed it pine-nut juice, washed and went to bed.

Growing herbs was a long-term plan. The immediate task was to earn money quickly enough to repay the debt and give the family a normal life without wild greens in every meal. He spent little more thought on cultivation. More pressing was whether the dealer would buy his processed mineral medicines. If satisfied, the man might provide a route to easier days.

He woke before dawn, driven from sleep by cold. The temperature had dropped again during the night. No snow had fallen, yet it felt colder than when it did. Even two thin quilts could not keep it out.

The distant watchman’s clappers told him daylight was still some way off. Too cold to sleep, he climbed down, lit the oil lamp and continued processing the minerals he had begun the day before.

He needed only to grind the medicines that had been heated, vinegar-quenched and cooled the previous afternoon. That did not take long. The work involved little movement, so he remained cold. He also mixed the eye powder for Peilan’s brother and wrapped it in paper. Outside, darkness persisted.

At last he decided to light the processing fire. It would warm him, and he could take the medicines to the wholesalers after dawn to test their interest.

With the fire going, he was no longer cold. He processed several common ingredients, and the sky began to lighten. Then he took the buckets and went to fetch water.

He remembered Xiaomei’s offer to wash his clothes before the New Year, and the emergency that had prevented him going. On New Year’s Eve no one came to the well. The first day had been spent in Laohuai Village, the second afternoon processing medicines, followed by dinner with his brother-in-law’s family. At last today had come.

He did not keep thinking about it for any ulterior reason. The girl had made the effort to offer, and his failure to appear had put her in an awkward position. He did not want her to feel hurt.

Outside, the world was bitterly cold. The wind cut his face like little knives and slipped into his clothes like icy snakes. Though he had just been working beside a fire, he shivered. Hunching his shoulders beneath the carrying pole, he hurried to the stone steps above the riverside well.

No one was fetching water.

It was only just growing light. He was earlier than usual; Xiaomei and her companion probably had not arrived.

He dawdled over filling his buckets. After a while, young wives and older children began to come. He had to take his water home, empty it and return for more.

With the jar nearly full, he began to lose hope. He decided on one final trip.

At last he saw the young woman who usually accompanied Xiaomei coming lazily down the steps with her buckets.

He brightened, then noticed that Xiaomei was not behind her.

The woman descended, glanced at him without a smile and passed him.

“Finished? Then move. How can anyone else draw water with you standing there?”

He hastily moved his buckets aside and offered her the dipper. She took it, filled both buckets in a few strokes and lifted her pole to go.

Anxious, he gathered his courage.

“Sister-in-law, where’s Xiaomei? Why hasn’t she come?”

She stopped and gave him a sidelong look.

“You have the nerve to ask? Go and ask her yourself!”

“What’s happened?”

“You ask me? I’d like to ask you!”

She put her buckets down and planted her hands on her hips.

“She agreed to wash your clothes. Why did you break your word?”

“You’ve misunderstood. I didn’t mean to! An emergency came to our shop—Auntie Li from Laohuai Village. She quarrelled with her daughter-in-law and suffered wind stroke in her anger. The other clinics saw they couldn’t afford treatment and refused her. She came to Guizhi Hall, and we treated her until evening. That’s what delayed me.

“I came early on New Year’s Eve to explain, but Xiaomei wasn’t here…”

“Why would she be?”

The explanation softened her expression, but her tone remained sharp.

“Xiaomei’s ill. She’s still in bed!”

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