Chapter 86: This Is Your Sister-in-Law (Please subscribe, please vote for me!)

“Good grief, how could he drink himself into such a state? Hurry and help him down.”

Wen carried Zhou Sen, already dead drunk and insensible, down from the carriage and, following the instructions of Bai Yulan and Ah Xiang, took him into the guest room.

“How much did he drink?” Bai Yulan asked with a frown.

“I don’t know. I was keeping watch outside and didn’t go in.” Wen scratched his head and answered awkwardly.

Ah Xiang shot him a glare, as if blaming him for it.

That only made Wen more at a loss. Like a child who had done something wrong, he flushed red and did not know how to explain himself.

“Enough, Ah Xiang. Go to the kitchen and make a bowl of sobering soup. He’s drunk this badly; I doubt he’ll be any better in the morning.” Bai Yulan gave the order.

“All right, Sister Lan.” Ah Xiang agreed and went out.

“Wen, where did your young master go drinking today?”

“J-just that place, um, the one with the ‘Wu’ in the name...” Wen knew very few characters and had never been to that place before.

“Musashino?” Bai Yulan was startled. That was a place that served only the Japanese. Why had Zhou Sen gone there for no reason, and drunk himself so thoroughly?

No wonder he had seemed so burdened when she asked him that afternoon. So he had been hiding something in his heart. For a man so glib and unreliable, he could still carry such heavy thoughts?

“Yes, yes, that’s the one.”

“All right. Go fetch a basin of hot water.” Bai Yulan stopped asking. Any further questions would be pointless. She gave Wen another order.

“Right.”

...

“Yulan, Yulan, don’t go, don’t go. We still have to have several children...” Suddenly, a powerful grip clamped onto Bai Yulan’s arm.

Bai Yulan turned and looked, not knowing whether to laugh or cry: even drunk to this point, he still had not forgotten to flirt with her.

“Let go...”

She tried to pry Zhou Sen’s hand loose, but found his grip surprisingly strong. She could not break it at once, and fearing to injure his fingers if she forced it, she took a hairpin from her head and jabbed the sharp end into the web of his hand.

Zhou Sen cried out from the pain and finally let go. Bai Yulan also breathed a sigh of relief. If he refused to release her all night, would she have to spend the entire night attending him here?

“The hot water’s here.”

“Help him sit up, take off his shoes, and soak his feet. It will help clear the drink from him,” Bai Yulan said.

Without a word, Wen set down the basin, removed Zhou Sen’s leather boots, pulled off his socks, and lowered his feet into the hot water.

After four or five minutes, when the skin below the ankles had reddened, he lifted the feet out, wiped them dry, and tucked them back under the quilt.

“Sister Lan, the sobering soup is ready. How should he drink it?”

“You hold his nose, and I’ll pour it down,” Bai Yulan said with disarming bluntness.

“Ah...”

Zhou Sen dreamed that the Japanese had tied him to a chair, first forcing him onto a tiger bench, then making him drink chili water.

It was a scene of ghastly cruelty. If his will had not been fairly strong, he would have cracked long ago.

After that, it seemed he could no longer endure it and passed out.

When he opened his eyes again, the ceiling above him looked oddly familiar. This time, he had not lost his memory. He remembered every word of the previous night’s drinking session at Musashino with Shibuya Saburo and Akiyama Tomoyuki.

He had been helped out by a waiter, then Wen had half-carried him onto the carriage and asked where he wanted to go...

He had been taken to the Fragrance Pavilion?

It was not yet fully dawn. Outside, the world was dim and hazy. Zhou Sen could not sleep any longer, so he got up and poured himself a cup of plain water.

The boiled water left overnight in the thermos had by then become pleasantly warm, no longer scalding, just right for drinking.

He downed a large cup in one go. Warmth spread through his stomach, and the hunger in him eased a little.

Since ancient times, there had never been good words after a banquet, especially not one hosted by the Japanese. He had already prepared himself for the worst.

He had not expected trouble to be even more serious than he had imagined.

Whether he became a traitor to the Russians or a traitor to the Chinese, death would be his eventual fate. And yet reality was pressing him toward that choice.

If he refused, he would die now.

The Four-Eight Building in the southern outskirts of Ice City was currently in desperate need of test subjects. Someone like him, with no blood relatives at all, could die without anyone even knowing, let alone collecting his body.

Was he afraid of death?

Of course he was. Who was not afraid of death?

Anyone who claimed otherwise had conditions attached to the claim; no one, under utterly meaningless circumstances, would say they were not afraid of dying.

To live was not shameful, but it depended on how one lived.

He could not simply sit and await death. Even a fish, before it dies, will thrash with all its might.

Could he really be worse than a fish?

Even if he truly could not survive, he would drag a few Japanese devils down with him. That would at least make this journey through time and era worthwhile.

Did they not want to force him into being a traitor? Then he could respond with sloth, drag his feet, shirk, and waste time. All of that was possible.

But if he did that, the Japanese would likely see through him. Whether it was Shibuya Saburo or Akiyama Tomoyuki, neither was easy to fool.

That move could be used, but once he used it, winning their trust would be even harder. Of course, fully earning their trust was unrealistic in any case.

The Japanese were searching for the ledger that Father Anthony might have left behind. To them, that thing was extremely important.

If such a ledger existed, then it would certainly be the foundation of Father Anthony’s standing and livelihood, and he would never hand it over to anyone lightly, not even to this adopted son.

Carrying it on his person was impossible as well. Since the Japanese had arranged for him to carry out such a top-secret mission, they would not have told him in advance. Naturally, he could not carry the ledger around with him either; if it were found during a search, he would be done for.

So the Japanese’ conclusion that the ledger was in Ice City was not without reason. Father Anthony had no reason to keep such a confidential document on his person.

Then the places most likely to hide something would certainly be the places Anthony often stayed: home, the company, and the riding club...

What he could think of, the Japanese could certainly think of too. And if the Japanese merely suspected Father Anthony’s identity and then, by extension, suspected him, they only needed to verify it. There would be no need to place such importance on him.

In his view, the reasons the Japanese attached so much weight to him were rather far-fetched. What, because he was Father Anthony’s adopted son, it was only natural for him to inherit his business and position?

Would the people Father Anthony had arranged to infiltrate necessarily recognize him as that adopted son? And even if they did, could they not simply find someone to impersonate him? That would be easier to control. Why insist on making him appear in person?

Unless there was one thing.

The Japanese could not master the method of contact and awakening, and that method was held only by him. But in the memories of this body’s original owner, he found no trace of anything related to it.

Was there a gap in the memory, or did it require some specific environment or circumstance to awaken?

Thump, thump...

Suddenly, a knock at the door snapped him out of his reverie.

“Who is it?”

“Brother Sen, it’s me.” Ah Xiang’s voice came from outside. “May I come in?”

“It’s fine. Come in.”

Ah Xiang pushed the door open and entered carrying a tray, upon which sat a bowl of millet porridge, corn buns, and pickled vegetables.

“Sister Lan said that when someone has a hangover, it’s best the next day to eat something gentle and easy on the stomach, so I made some millet porridge,” Ah Xiang explained as she set each item down for him.

“I could have gone to get it myself. You didn’t have to bring it over for me,” Zhou Sen said gratefully.

“It’s nothing. I just didn’t know how long Brother Sen would sleep, so I brought it over to check on you first,” Ah Xiang said with a smile.

“All right, I’ll wash up and then eat.”

Zhou Sen was not used to eating breakfast without washing his face and brushing his teeth first.

“Shall I bring you some hot water, then?”

“No need. Cold water will do. I need to wake myself up,” Zhou Sen said.

After relieving a bladder that had been strained all night, he washed his face, brushed his teeth, and ate breakfast. A bowl of millet porridge and two corn buns were indeed a bit meager for an adult man.

Still, for Zhou Sen’s stomach at present, it would not do to eat too much. He needed to recover slowly.

After breakfast, he thought it over. Since she had come all this way, it would be impolite not to go and thank her, especially since he had learned from Ah Xiang that Bai Yulan had personally stayed with him until he finished the sobering soup before leaving. That was also why, after sleeping off his drunkenness, his head was not nearly as painful when he awoke the next morning.

Lifting the curtain at the doorway, he leaned against the frame and saw Bai Yulan actually embroidering under the lamp, apparently working on a round fan or something of the sort.

“If you’re coming in, then come in. Why stand there propping up the doorframe? You’re letting all the warmth out of my room,” Bai Yulan said with a sidelong glance.

“Last night I drank too much. You were the one who fed me the sobering soup, weren’t you?” Zhou Sen walked over and sat directly on the carpet, leaning against Bai Yulan’s legs.

“You want to say that I care this much about you because I’ve fallen in love with you?” Bai Yulan’s fingers flew as she swiftly threaded the needle. Clearly, she was skilled at this and must have done needlework often.

“I’m not that vulgar,” Zhou Sen said lazily. “You were probably afraid I’d drink myself to death and that such a big patron would be lost.”

“Go to hell!”

Bai Yulan raised a foot and was about to kick Zhou Sen out. Unfortunately, Zhou Sen had already anticipated her fiery temper and predicted her movement.

Bai Yulan’s kick missed. The needle in her hand suddenly stabbed into her own finger, and she cried out in pain.

Zhou Sen hurriedly reached out, caught the pricked finger, and when a bright red bead of blood welled up, he did not even hesitate before placing it in his mouth.

“Zhou Sen, what are you doing...”

“Miss Xiao, please come in. This is where Sister Lan receives guests.” The curtain was suddenly lifted, and Ah Xiang led in a lovely young woman from outside.

The two women stared at the sight of Zhou Sen holding Bai Yulan’s finger, a faint trace of blood at the corner of his lips, and both froze.

Jiang Rou, upon seeing Zhou Sen, was even more shocked. Her eyes widened, and she instinctively raised a hand to cover her mouth, trying to hide the turmoil in her heart.

She had never imagined that when she came specially to pay a visit to Bai Yulan today, she would run into Zhou Sen.

She had not informed anyone in advance before coming, so this encounter was not deliberate. What did that mean...

Her thoughts raced on.

“Xiaorou is here. Come, let me introduce you. This is your sister-in-law!” Zhou Sen wiped his mouth, stood up, and pointed at Bai Yulan as he introduced her.

At those words, a stabbing pain suddenly shot through the back of his right thigh.