bullyxtreme Chapter 9 Taking it lightly
Chapter 9 Taking it lightly
When Zhao Heng left the study, it was already past 11:30 AM.
The light from under the eaves slanted in, casting a patchwork of light and shadow on the bluestone slabs. Just as he was about to step into the inner courtyard, several figures emerged from the other end of the corridor.
It was Madam Fu leading two maids.
Madam Fu walked ahead, her steps quicker than usual, carrying nothing in her hands, which were simply tucked into her sleeves. Two maids followed behind, one carrying a black lacquered food box with the lid tightly shut, and the other carrying a copper basin with a white cloth draped over its rim.
The three walked in a hurry and only saw Zhao Heng when they got close.
Madam Fu paused, then quickened her pace and stepped forward.
"Young master, has Mr. Wei finished his lecture?"
Zhao Heng nodded: "It's over."
Madam Fu scrutinized him closely. The boy's face was still pale, but his lips had become rosy, and his eyes were clear and bright. She felt slightly relieved, but couldn't help asking, "Why is your face still so pale? Is there anything wrong?"
"It's alright," Zhao Heng said. "The teacher explained some principles, but it didn't take much effort."
His gaze fell on the food box in the maid's hands.
Following his gaze, Madam Fu turned to the side, gesturing for the maid to open the box. Inside was a bowl of medicinal soup, served in an earthenware bowl; the steam had dissipated, and the bowl was still warm.
"Madam was worried and ordered the old servant to bring the medicine," said Madam Fu. "I originally intended to send it in after the young master's get out of class, but I was afraid of disturbing Mr. Wei's lecture."
She paused slightly, then added, "Actually... Madam originally wanted to come in person, but this old servant persuaded her not to. She said that the young master had just finished the morning's lecture and needed to concentrate on listening."
Zhao Heng understood the meaning behind the words.
Madam Han was worried about him and wanted to see if he was alright, but she was even more afraid that her presence would distract him or make Wei Jia feel that the women in the household were interfering too much in his studies. This careful weighing of options was typical of his mother's nature.
He didn't say anything, he just reached out his hand.
"In that case, let's use it here."
Madam Fu paused slightly, her lips moved as if she wanted to suggest going inside to drink, or that there was a breeze in the corridor. But Zhao Heng had already taken the lacquered bowl handed to him by the maid.
Zhao Heng lowered his head and smelled bitterness. It was a strong bitterness, mixed with the astringency of grass roots and tree bark, and a faint fishy smell.
"This has Poria cocos added." Zhao Heng thought subconsciously, then paused, somewhat surprised that he could identify the medicinal material by its smell.
However, he didn't stop, picked up the bowl, tilted his head back and drank.
The bitter taste exploded in his mouth, spreading from the back of his tongue all the way to the depths of his throat. He drank it quickly, his Adam's apple bobbing a few times, and the bowl was empty. Only when he swallowed the last sip did his brow furrow slightly, before relaxing again.
A hint of surprise flashed in her eyes. She remembered that Zhao Heng used to need to be coaxed to take his medicine, and sometimes he would need candied fruit to help him sip it little by little. This was the first time she had ever seen him take it so readily, tilting his head back and finishing it off.
But she didn't say anything, she just took the cloth from the maid carrying the basin and handed it over.
Zhao Heng had already raised the corner of his sleeve, but upon seeing this, he took the cloth. He wiped his mouth, then wiped away a little medicine stain from the rim of the bowl, before handing the cloth back to him.
"Is Mother feeling any better?"
Madam Fu took the empty bowl and cloth and handed them to the maid behind her. She said in a low voice, "Madam has taken the calming soup and is resting." She paused, then looked up at Zhao Heng, "Today... we are very grateful to you, young master."
A breeze blew through the corridor, ruffling a few strands of hair at her temples. Although Madam Fu was only in her early thirties, her hair already showed signs of gray, hidden at the edge of her dark bun. Now, lifted by the wind, it trembled slightly in the light, like a layer of frost.
Zhao Heng noticed it.
He paused for a moment, then shook his head.
"It's my fault."
He spoke casually, as if he were talking about something unrelated to himself. His mother looked at him for a long while.
Sunlight slanted through the gaps in the pillars, illuminating half of her face. In the interplay of light and shadow, the emotions in her eyes were complex and difficult to express.
There is some relief, but also some hidden worries, and a sense of unfamiliarity that is hard to describe. It's like looking at a familiar tree that has sprouted new branches overnight, but the shape of the branches and leaves is completely different. I don't know whether to be happy or worried.
However, after a long while, she finally said softly, "Young Master has grown up after this incident."
Zhao Heng did not respond to this.
He looked out over the corridor to the courtyard. The trees in the courtyard were all green with leaves, and a few leaves fell with a gust of wind, swirling on the bluestone slabs. After watching for a moment, he turned back to look at Madam Fu.
"Is the storeroom key with Madam Fu?"
According to the custom of the household, in addition to the head steward Zhao Su, who was in charge of miscellaneous tasks, personnel and daily scheduling, there should have been a higher-ranking head steward who was in charge of finances, warehouses and procurement.
However, the household had been without a male head for many years, and Han was gentle by nature and not accustomed to dealing with outside merchants, so the position remained vacant. The person who exercised the authority in her place was Han's most trusted tutor, whom she had brought from Korea.
The topic changed abruptly, and Fu's mother was taken aback upon hearing this.
"What does the young master wish to obtain?"
"Several bolts of plain silk."
Fu's mother's eyebrows twitched slightly.
"There are indeed some in the storeroom." She slowed her pace, as if carefully choosing her words, "but those were part of the mistress's dowry brought from Xinzheng, which she rarely used..."
"That's exactly what we need." Zhao Heng's tone was calm, yet left no room for negotiation. "Please ask Madam Fu to bring out eight bolts of cloth."
The number "eight horses" startled Fu's mother.
According to the measurements of the Zhao state, a bolt of silk is two feet two inches wide and forty feet long. The plain silk brought by Lady Han is of the highest quality, and a bolt of it is worth at least three thousand coins. The price of a strong slave is only three or four thousand coins.
She looked at Zhao Heng and hesitated before asking, "Is the young master going to reward someone?"
Zhao Heng nodded, not saying anything explicitly, but simply asking, "How are the injuries of Meng Ben and the other three, who were whipped yesterday?"
Upon hearing that it was these four people, Madam Fu frowned.
"The physician has examined them; they are wounded on the skin and flesh, but no bones or tendons are damaged," she said, her words becoming increasingly persuasive. "Young master, those four guards were negligent in their duties. Today, you spared their lives before the eunuch, which was already a great act of generosity. According to the old custom of the manor, during the recovery period after the flogging, providing medicine and food is sufficient. Why should we offer any further rewards?"
She paused, lowered her voice, and took a half-step closer.
"Furthermore... if word gets out, some might say the young master's rewards and punishments are unfair. A guard who neglected his duty goes unpunished but receives a generous reward; how can the rules of the household be established in the future?"
Zhao Heng turned around and faced Fu's mother directly.
"Mother Fu, my gift of silk was neither a reward nor a bribe. Today in the hall, when I said 'they did nothing wrong,' I was not lying. They certainly failed in their duty of protection, but deeper—"
He paused briefly. Outside the corridor, the sound of birds fluttering their wings echoed as they hopped from one bamboo pole to another. He waited until the sound subsided before continuing:
"They are retainers left behind by my father, and should be treated with the respect due to scholars. However, my father is far away in Xianyang, and there is no master in the mansion. They remain in Handan, nominally retainers of Lord Chunping's mansion, but in reality..."
He didn't finish speaking, but Fu's mother understood.
Those retainers were treated like discarded pawns by the powerful and influential people of Handan.
With no master to rely on and bearing the reputation of "weak mistress and young master," she, as the person in charge of the household affairs, knew better than anyone how much contempt and cold looks she suffered on a daily basis.
During festivals, guests from other mansions would host banquets and martial arts competitions, while the people of Lord Chunping's mansion often received no invitations. Even if they did, they would sit at the back of the table, listening to others' lofty discussions without being able to join in. Rumors circulated in the city that Lord Chunping's mansion housed "retainers," not "scholars."
Zhao Heng may not know the details, but the fact that he could think of this is already unusual.
"Today, Gao Qu dares to order them to be beaten to death in court. He not only looks down on them, but also on the fact that there is no one in my Chunping Jun family who can do this."
Zhao Heng continued, "If I only save their lives without comforting them, will they stay in the manor after they recover from their injuries out of gratitude for past kindness, or out of fear of gossip? If it's the former, I can be at ease; if it's the latter..."
He shook his head and didn't say anything more.
But Fu's mother understood.
If it's the latter, then it's the Chunping Lord's mansion, unable to even afford the last vestige of dignity for its retainers. They can keep people, but not their hearts. Today they may stay out of fear of gossip, but tomorrow they may leave out of fear of disaster.
A brief silence fell over the corridor.
The two maids, having already tactfully stepped back, stood by a pillar ten paces away, eyes lowered, seemingly oblivious.
Mother Fu pondered carefully, as if digesting these words and re-evaluating the young man before her.
The boy stood in the light, his features clear and his expression calm. Beneath that calmness lay something entirely different from what she remembered—a composure that commanded the situation.
"Eight bolts of silk, to be divided into two portions." However, Zhao Heng didn't seem to intend to wait for Madam Fu to speak, and explained and arranged, "One portion consists of four bolts, which I will give to them in my personal name to thank them for jumping into the water to save me. Regardless of the reason, they did jump into Niushou Water. This is a personal favor."
"The other four bolts of silk were bestowed in the name of the mother, out of compassion for the suffering they had endured from the whippings, and because they needed nourishment during their recovery. This is a great kindness from the household."
At this point, Madam Fu fully understood Zhao Heng's intentions.
She needed to appease the retainers, but more importantly, she needed to use Han's name to bestow favors and maintain her mother's authority as the mistress of the household. Even if this authority was not usually apparent, it needed to be demonstrated at this moment.
On a deeper level, this is telling everyone that even though the lord of Chunping Mansion is not present, there is still gratitude, rules, and responsibility. The retainers are not "diners," but "scholars," and the mansion can provide the respect they deserve.
She remained silent for a moment.
The wind picked up again, and she reached up to gather her hair, tucking a few strands of gray hair behind her ear, a very slow movement.
Then she nodded.
"This old servant understands."
"I'm sorry to trouble you, Madam Fu," Zhao Heng said. "I will explain to my mother myself."
Madam Fu shook her head.
"No need. Since you want to be thorough, young master, let this old servant speak to her. Mistress is kind-hearted, but sometimes... she has too many concerns. This old servant will simply say that you are considerate of your guests and wish to comfort them, and Mistress will surely agree."
She paused, then added, "If Mistress asks for details, this old servant has her own explanation."
Zhao Heng pondered for a moment.
"There is something else," he said, "I need Madam Fu's help."
"Please speak, young master."
"To outsiders, just say that Mother rewarded you with four bolts of silk," Zhao Heng said. "My four bolts need not be mentioned."
Mrs. Fu was taken aback at first, then suddenly realized.
If it is said that all eight bolts of silk were bestowed by Lady Han, it would seem that the mistress was being too generous, which would easily attract criticism, as women in power often have no sense of propriety in rewarding or punishing. If it is said that they were all private gifts from the young master, it would seem that the child was abusing his power, which would be against etiquette and would also weaken the mistress's kindness.
This interplay of overt and covert actions fulfills both gratitude and obligation without giving others grounds for criticism. The recipient is fully aware of the situation, while outsiders only see half of it.
She gave Zhao Heng a deep look.
"Young master, your considerations are thorough."
"Thank you for your help, Madam Fu."
Madam Fu said no more, bowed, and turned to leave with her maid. Her steps were steady, no longer as hurried as when she came.
Zhao Heng stood there for a while.
The light from the corridor shifted a little further, illuminating the tips of his shoes. He looked down and noticed that the hem of his indigo robe was slightly wrinkled, likely from kneeling. He reached out and smoothed out the wrinkles.
Then he turned and walked towards the outer courtyard.