Chapter 74: A Gesture of Goodwill

The tomb of Chunyu Shan’s grandfather had been robbed.

The people of the Chunyu clan poured out into the streets, and soon every grave robber in Chang’an was swept up in the search.

But nothing was found.

Some claimed the Chunyu clan was cursed this year—their workshop burned, their ancestral tomb robbed; they were called the most unfortunate family in Chang’an.

The second unluckiest was Yang Xuan, who nursed his injured foot at home.

The days of recuperation were pleasant.

After breakfast, Yiniang had the old thief bring over her specially ordered reclining chair.

“So comfortable.”

The chair was padded; lying on it, with a breeze blowing, felt doubly delightful.

“The Chunyu clan is scouring Chang’an for grave robbers. My lord, you are the magistrate of Wànnián County, isn’t this your business?” the old thief ventured cautiously.

Yang Xuan didn’t even lift his eyelids. “Old thief, are you trying to get me to jump into a pit?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” the old thief replied respectfully. “Heaven can attest to my loyalty to you, my lord.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely true, as genuine as pure gold.”

“Then go do another thing for me.”

“Your command, my lord.”

“Go rob Chunyu Shan’s father’s tomb.”

The old thief was speechless.

“I’m only joking,” Yang Xuan finally glanced at him. “Cao Ying’s methods are harsh... It’s normal you’re upset. But I’m not one to force others. You’re free to come and go here; perhaps you’d like your freedom?”

“Spare me, my lord!” The old thief’s eyes darted anxiously. He knew that if he stepped outside, his life would be at risk the next moment.

He slunk away in defeat.

In the front courtyard, Cao Ying awaited him.

“Trying to test the lord?” she asked.

The old thief crouched, first glancing at Wang Lao’er, who sat sunning himself on the steps. “I don’t know what you all plan, but it must be something big. For big things, one must look to the leader; if the leader is unsound, the matter is unsound. In the past, our lord was too gentle, so I wanted to try him.”

Gentle? Cao Ying thought the old thief was a fool. “And what did you find?”

The old thief sighed. “He’s ruthless.”

“If your heart isn’t cruel, you won’t stand firm!” There was a fierceness in Cao Ying’s gaze. “Our road ahead is long!”

“Knock, knock, knock!”

The old thief went to open the door and saw Han Ying, greeting her with a smile. “Lady Han!”

Han Ying bowed. “Is the lord at home?”

She was led to the back courtyard, with the old thief and Cao Ying standing side by side behind her.

“Great figure,” Cao Ying observed.

“Yiniang says she’s too plump, worried she’ll suffocate the lord.”

“Don’t men like to be smothered?”

“That’s true.”

...

In the back courtyard, Han Ying bowed.

“Greetings, my lord.”

“What brings you here?” Yang Xuan remained reclined.

Han Ying replied, “The house is nearly finished decorating. I invite you to inspect it.”

“Oh!” Yang Xuan was quite interested.

“Let’s all go take a look.”

The whole family left Chen Qu, heading in grand procession to Guangfu Ward.

The house was large; the section facing the street had a collapsed wall, making it easy for people to come and go.

This was the ‘commercial street’ of Zhuque Avenue; all along the row were eateries.

Inside and out, the house was newly renovated. Yang Xuan led the group inside for a look.

“It can accommodate two to three hundred people dining at once,” Han Ying explained.

Previously, business in Chang’an was only permitted at the East and West Markets and Pingkang Ward. After the ward walls fell, many new businesses sprang up.

The cooks and staff stood neatly outside the main gate, like soldiers awaiting inspection.

Han Ying stood at Yang Xuan’s side, introducing everyone.

“So this is Young Lord Yang? He’s so young,” someone muttered.

“They say he even fears no plague.”

“And he saved the Imperial Consort.”

“Silence,” Han Ying scolded, then said, “My lord, please instruct them.”

Yang Xuan cleared his throat.

“Do well, and your wages will be generous—your lives free of worry. Do poorly, back where you came from. That’s all.”

Han Ying whispered, “My lord, perhaps say a few more words.”

“No matter how much is said, nothing beats the word ‘money.’” Yang Xuan knew these people needed neither grand principles nor lofty goals—just money, money...

The manager from the restaurant next door, Lin Fan, came over smiling and saluted. “Is this... noodles?”

Yang Xuan glanced at him and said to Han Ying, “Open tomorrow.”

Then the crowd escorted him away.

Lin Fan kept smiling.

“So big, so expensive—how will they make money?”

The next morning, before dawn.

Yang Xuan returned.

Two lines of staff, several cooks stood at the gate.

“Yang Xuan, cut the ribbon,” Zhuque suggested.

Yang Xuan shook his head. “Pointless.”

“Then invite some beauties to dance on stage.”

“Shut up!”

“No one born yet can make me shut up.”

“I’m shutting down.”

“...”

The noise faded, and Yang Xuan felt much more peaceful.

“Check the time,” the old thief squinted eastward, counting on his fingers.

“I really don’t like these ceremonies,” Yang Xuan said sincerely.

“The auspicious hour is here!” the old thief shouted. Yang Xuan nodded. “Open the doors.”

The doors swung open; cooks and staff took their places.

Smoke rose from the kitchen.

“We’re open!” Wang Shun shouted.

Next door, Lin Fan crouched at his own doorway, smiling. “These noodles are said to be miraculous, but I don’t believe they can outshine wine and dishes. This hour brings mostly officials and officers—bring out our best. Today, I’ll give them a show.”

Behind him, the staff set up stalls.

“Fresh cakes!”

“Lamb soup, delicious!”

A chorus of hawking echoed.

Everyone watched the new shop, curious about its business.

Clip-clop, clip-clop!

Hoofbeats sounded.

Everyone turned.

“Who’s that...?”

Wang Douxiang dismounted, looked up at the shop’s sign and asked, “Who wrote it?”

“Ning, the Dean of the Imperial Academy,” Yang Xuan replied with a salute.

“Fine calligraphy.” Wang Douxiang sniffed the air. “Smells good. I was hungry last night and waited for your opening—now I’ll eat here.”

“Is that the second son of the Wang family?”

Lin Fan nearly popped his eyes out. “It’s not even dawn and he’s here to show support?”

“Something’s wrong!”

A staff member suddenly pointed ahead in alarm.

The sky was still dim, save for a glimmer in the east.

On Zhuque Avenue, a group of people seemed to float along, their arms swinging oddly.

Yang Xuan was reminded of the zombies in ghost films.

Who could it be, so early?

The group drifted closer, the leader appearing.

“The Dean?”

Ning Yayu smiled gently, shaking her whisk.

“At dawn, we come to breathe the fresh air and refine our cultivation.”

The arrival of the Imperial Academy staff brought warmth to the morning.

Cao Ying whispered, “When trouble comes, the Academy will help; the Wang family only seeks profit and avoids harm.”

Yang Xuan nodded. “Wang Douxiang is here just to show support... The Wang family won’t forget their friends. But the great clans—never have I seen a family with pride last centuries in wealth and honor.”

Yang Xuan turned to enter, seeing Lin Fan and his group staring, and he smiled.

He went first to Wang Douxiang.

Wang Douxiang was uncomfortable eating before so many eyes, but his aides ate heartily, raising their heads, “Second Master, worth the trip!”

Wang Douxiang tasted a bite, nodded, and said to Yang Xuan, “Delicious, indeed.”

Even when noble sons encountered tasty food, they restrained their desires—such was the family’s teaching.

Wang Douxiang ate two bites, put down his chopsticks, wiped his mouth, and spoke warmly, “You’ve helped the Wang family greatly this time. My elder brother told me my judgment was correct. While you were still in the mountains, the Wang family had summoned more than ten physicians skilled in plagues. If you had fallen ill, they would have rushed to the mines. My brother said... spare no effort to save you.”

Yang Xuan knew this was not a gesture of goodwill, but a statement of the family’s stance.

“The Wang family will not forget their friends.” Wang Douxiang pressed his hands on the table, then let go. “The poison was put in the food; the meal that day was rich, full of meat and flavor.”

Strong flavor conceals the taste of medicine.

The aides watched Yang Xuan.

Yang Xuan nodded slightly, saying nothing.

Wang Douxiang’s eyes sparkled; he patted Yang Xuan’s shoulder. “The insider was found.”

Yang Xuan remained silent.

Wang Douxiang laughed. “He’s dead.”

Silenced!

Yang Xuan nodded.

Wang Douxiang and his aides left.

Outside, an aide said, “I kept waiting for him to ask the Second Master, but he never did. This young man... grows steadier by the day.”

“He has no foundation; if he’s not steady, Chang’an will bury him sooner or later,” Wang Douxiang replied. “The key is... he didn’t use this chance to seek credit. This youth still guards himself against the Wang family.”

Inside, Ning Yayu was admiring the decor.

“So clean.” Ning Yayu praised the minimalist style.

“Very nice,” An Ziyu echoed.

Yang Xuan laughed. “It’s just a way to save money.”

Ning Yayu cleared her throat.

An Ziyu asked, “Trouble with your lungs?”

Ning Yayu coughed violently.

An Ziyu remembered Ning Yayu’s instructions before leaving, and chuckled awkwardly. “Yang Xuan!”

“Here,” Yang Xuan replied, standing at attention.

Seeing him still act the obedient student, An Ziyu couldn’t help but smile. “Your decisive handling at the mines—teachers and students at the academy praised you endlessly...”

Classmates praised him, and envied him. As for the teachers—forget it, that lazy lot would be surprised and say, “Really?” before going back to their philosophical discussions.

It was just an opening.

“Many classmates now wish to come to the counties for experience. What do you think?”

Seeing Yang Xuan flourish in Wànnián County, some finally couldn’t sit still.

“Best those with good cultivation don’t come.”

“Why?”

“Because it doesn’t matter.”

Zhong Hui protested, “Is indifference so bad?”

“But indifference means nothing,” Yang Xuan smiled wryly. “Professor, the bureaucracy is just another training ground. If you don’t care, you’ll be swallowed alive.”

“If no one cares, who hurts whom?” Zhuque was full of energy so early.

Leaving Yuanzhou Noodles, Yang Xuan prepared to go to the county office.

“Who opened this? No business allowed in the ward.”

In the morning light, a few unruly youths shouted, chests bared.

Yang Xuan, in the midst of instructing Han Ying, turned at the sound.

The leader paused, rubbing his eyes.

“Yang... Young Lord Yang?”

Whoosh!

They vanished instantly.

“Yang Xuan?”

Yang Xuan looked up and saw Song Zhen, Minister of War, quickly saluting, “Greetings, Minister.”

“Come here,” Song Zhen said, dismounting.