Chapter 15: Spreading the Story, Building a Reputation

On the eighteenth day of the second month, there was no snow. The sky had barely begun to lighten when Wei Nisheng woke in his side room—or rather, he had slept very little. Everything that had happened yesterday felt like a dream.

A faint sound came from the outer room. “Second Young Master, breakfast has arrived.”

Wei An pushed open the door with a tray. On it were four small dishes, a steamer of buns, a bowl of shredded-chicken congee and two pastries.

Nisheng stared at the food, then at Wei An. The old man put the tray on the desk, a rare smile at the corner of his mouth.

“The kitchen sent it. They said it’s ‘the portion a master should receive.’”

“The portion a master should receive…” Nisheng smiled.

Yesterday’s sword had frightened more than the three members of his family. From the gatekeepers to the cooks, the stewards to the most menial servants, the whole residence now knew he was not easily bullied.

He sat down, picked up his chopsticks and ate a piece of osmanthus cake, chewing slowly as he looked at the book beside him. That one stroke had won him more than respect. It had won him time. From today, no one would come to bother him every few days. He could study in peace.

……

After breakfast, Nisheng continued reading in his room. Wei An changed into clean clothes and slipped out through a side gate of the courtyard. He took back lanes, avoiding the main compound and the servants coming and going. In a gray padded robe and old felt cap, stooped and looking down, he resembled an unremarkable old servant; no one gave him a second glance.

After passing through two alleys, he reached an inconspicuous teahouse. It was small, with a worn cloth banner outside and seven or eight square tables within. At that hour only a few customers sat in twos and threes, drinking tea and talking.

Wei An took a table in the corner. When the attendant came, he ordered a pot of tea and a plate of peanuts, then leaned back as if resting his feet. His eyes, however, swept the room.

Before long, several people came in one after another and sat at nearby tables: an impoverished scholar, a teahouse storyteller, a street calligrapher. They came from all walks of life, old acquaintances Wei An had made while helping Wei Zheng conduct his affairs. He wasted no words. Once he had made the arrangements, he left.

Meanwhile, the story spread like seeds scattered through the capital’s streets and alleys. Soon people in teahouses and small establishments everywhere were repeating it.

“Have you heard? A son of the Wei family…”

“Which Wei family?”

“Lord Wei’s family, the principal secretary in the construction bureau at the Ministry of Works. Yesterday a wicked servant insulted the second young master in public, called him an ill-starred thing and said he shouldn’t be alive. Guess what happened?”

“What?”

“The boy drew a sword on the spot and killed him!”

“Killed him?”

“More than that. He carried the sword into the main hall and said, ‘A wicked servant insulted his master. What is wrong with upholding the family rules?’ Even his father had no answer!”

A listener drew a sharp breath. “That child has spirit!”

“He certainly does! They say his mother was a virtuous wife honored by the court, and his grandfather was Lord Wenduan. The boy is worthy of being Lord Wenduan’s grandson!”

“That’s right! A wicked servant insulted his master. Good riddance! That’s the backbone a family of integrity should have!”

People nodded and talked among themselves.

……

At the same time, Lady Cui sat in the main courtyard, her expression shifting. The previous night’s events had frightened her badly, and she had slept poorly. Nisheng had also gone out with her half brother the day before last, so as soon as dawn came she sent for Cui Fu.

Cui Fu had been in good spirits, eating and drinking as usual. When summoned, he had no idea what had happened. Only when he saw his sister sitting on the bed-platform with a hostile expression did he approach nervously, forcing a smile.

“Sister, you wanted me?”

She stared at him. “Where exactly did you take that wretch yesterday?”

His heart jumped, but he stuck to his story. “S-Sister, I did what you told me! I took him to a gambling house! Really! I didn’t take him anywhere else!”

Lady Cui frowned and murmured, “A gambling house… Could one visit make someone act like that?” Then she asked, “How did he enjoy himself?”

Cui Fu blinked. “How did he enjoy himself…”

“What are you staring at? I’m asking you!”

He nodded rapidly. “He had fun! A wonderful time! It was his first visit to a place like that. Everything was new, and he couldn’t take it all in. I even bought him candied fruit on a stick. He was so happy!”

Cui Fu embellished the story with great enthusiasm, as though he really had spent yesterday entertaining Nisheng. Lady Cui’s frown deepened. Could gambling truly change a person’s temperament so much? Or had he always been like that, hiding it well?

Unable to make sense of it, she pinched the bridge of her nose and looked at her half brother. “Do you know Wang Rong?”

“Wang Rong? The eldest young master’s household slave?”

“Yes.”

Cui Fu grinned. “Of course! Sister, when I took the brat out the day before last, he got two slaps. His face swelled up like a pig’s head! You should have seen the brat. He slapped him—crack!—and Wang Rong fell flat on his face. He couldn’t get up for ages, and you could see all five finger marks.”

He recounted it gleefully, failing to notice Lady Cui growing paler.

“Do you know what happened afterward?” she interrupted.

He shook his head. “I left afterward. I don’t know. What, did that slave go and complain? Did the brat get punished?”

“No.” Lady Cui drew a deep breath and spoke slowly. “Yesterday afternoon, Wang Rong was… killed by that wretch. Before all of us, he cut his throat with one stroke and spilled blood across the main hall.”

Cui Fu’s smile froze. His mouth opened, but for a long moment no words came. “K-killed? Just… just over those two slaps?”

“More than that.” She shook her head. “Wang Rong insulted him in public, then complained to Shouzheng. Shouzheng brought him to the main hall to complain. Your brother-in-law got angry, threw a sword in front of the wretch and told him to kill himself…”

She briefly told him what had happened the night before. By the end, Cui Fu was deathly pale. He remembered their encounter in the street the day before last. At the time, he had thought Nisheng was merely clever. Now he knew it was ruthlessness—the kind capable of killing.

“S-Sister…” he stammered. “That brat… no, the second young master… could he be possessed?”

Lady Cui didn’t answer. She only gripped her handkerchief tighter.