Chapter 131: Probably Won’t Make It
Chapter 131: Probably Won’t Make It
After Chang Shan left, the mansion became completely quiet.
Although the servants had already been dismissed in advance.
A few still stayed behind.
There was an old steward, and a few maids and other servants.
The old steward of the Chang Residence had the surname Fang. Steward Fang handled most household matters. Even though the master rarely returned, he still kept everything orderly and well-managed.
After listening, Chen Changsheng replied: “Chang Shan has already dismissed his servants and maids. Why did you stay?”
Steward Fang said: “Master showed great kindness to us. Staying here is because we want to wait for Master to return.”
“What if he doesn’t come back?” Chen Changsheng asked.
Steward Fang shook his head and said: “Master will absolutely come back.”
Though filled with worry, he stubbornly added the word “absolutely” to his statement.
He still believed this world wouldn’t treat Master too poorly.
Chen Changsheng didn’t say any more. Tilting his head back, he took a gulp of wine. He shook the gourd, only to find the Autumn Moon Brew inside was gone.
Empty.
Two big jars of wine, just like that, were all gone.
Chen Changsheng put down the Wine Gourd and sighed deeply.
This wine… it’s never enough.
…
A dim candle flickered within the dilapidated courtyard in Longwinter Alley.
This was the last half candle Liu Huaizhang had left in his home. It was originally intended for offering to the gods, but now sat upon his table.
Ink flowed onto the rice paper spread over the table, densely covered in characters. How long he’d been writing, one couldn’t tell.
Not until midnight did Liu Huaizhang finally lift his hand and set down his brush.
He glanced over the contents on the paper. Once the ink dried, he carefully folded it away.
A chilly breeze seeped through the broken window.
“Cough… cough…”
Liu Huaizhang coughed several times forcefully. His face flushed red briefly before quickly turning wan and pale.
He carefully stored the folder away, hiding it deep in the lined layers of his much-patched clothing. Then, with hands tucked in his sleeves, he gathered the half candle and walked out the door.
Layers of clouds covered the moonlight. Ahead, only the faint light guided Liu Huaizhang’s path.
He shielded the candle flame as he walked, steps unsteady and faltering. Every step seemed to cost him great effort.
At even the slightest breeze, he couldn’t help but tremble.
The summer wind wasn’t truly cold; blessed would call it cool and fresh. But to Liu Huaizhang, it pierced right to his bones.
Molten wax dripped from the candle onto his hand. He paid it no mind, simply pressing forward.
“Huff…”
But heaven had other plans. A sudden gust snuffed out the last weak light.
Liu Huaizhang’s lips trembled as he blew uselessly at the candle stub. Seeing no point, he abandoned the unburnt remnant and ventured onward into the oppressive gloom.
In that long night’s darkness, he walked all alone.
.
.
A pale glow, the color of a fish’s belly, spread across the horizon. Cooking smoke gradually rose.
Shangjing City carried on much like any other day. Only this place seemed persistently quiet, or even lively.
Chen Changsheng rose early and practiced swordplay a while in the courtyard.
Xian Yue unconsciously took a step back upon seeing the sword in the man’s hand.
“Is that an Immortal Sword in Mr. Chen’s hand?” Xian Yue asked.
Chen Changsheng said: “Just a beaten-up old sword.”
The Rain-Listening Sword seemed displeased. It trembled faintly as if protesting.
Chen Changsheng flicked its blade with his finger. The sword immediately stilled.
Xian Yue looked at it curiously. “Can it hear us?”
“Maybe.”
Chen Changsheng replied and then casually stored the sword away.
Xian Yue saw him make a simple motion and the Immortal Sword vanished. Such are the ways of a deity.
Xian Yue slowly snapped back to reality. Setting aside the Immortal Sword, she asked: “Will Sir be going to the Teahouse again today?”
Chen Changsheng nodded. “We made an agreement.”
Leaving the Chang Residence, Chen Changsheng headed straight to the Teahouse.
The attendant from the other day hurried over when he saw him arrive.
“Sir, Lord Liu hasn’t come yet,” the attendant reported.
“We’ll wait then,” Chen Changsheng replied with a warm smile.
“I’ll bring tea at once.”
The attendant agreed and went downstairs to fetch tea.
Once tea was served, Chen Changsheng settled at his usual spot to wait.
One cup of tea soon drained.
Liu Huaizhang never came, but instead, a tea-loving fortune-teller appeared.
After sitting down, Zhong Zhengyuan smiled and said, “Mr. Chen is so very leisurely, finding time even for tea?”
He didn’t stand on ceremony and helped himself to the tea immediately.
After sipping it, he commented, “Excellent, excellent tea!”
Chen Changsheng looked at him. “Did you sniff out the tea?”
Zhong Zhengyuan chuckled, unabashed. “Can’t pass up free tea! If Mr. Chen can freeload, surely I, Zhong, can manage a free cup?”
Those words momentarily stumped Chen Changsheng.
It was true—he did tend to freeload rather often.
He sighed internally. Best to find some silver soon for his needs.
Zhong Zhengyuan asked, “Waiting for someone?”
Chen Changsheng nodded. “An elderly gentleman.”
Zhong Zhengyuan thought for a moment. “The one from the conversation that night?”
The man who explained the way of officials to Chen Changsheng.
“The very one.”
Chen Changsheng took a sip. “He’s quite an intriguing fellow.”
Zhong Zhengyuan now felt curious. “That is unusual. I must see for myself what sort of person merits praise even from Mr. Chen.”
“He might arrive any moment,” Chen Changsheng suggested.
Once waiting alone, now Chen Changsheng had a companion.
A blink later, half an hour passed.
By noon, patrons gradually left the Teahouse.
Yet the man Chansheng mentioned still hadn’t arrived.
Zhong Zhengyuan looked at Chen Changsheng. “Think he won’t show?”
Chen Changsheng paused. He put down his cup. “He will come…”
Seeing his expression, Zhong Zhengyuan pressed no further. He took a sip and continued waiting with Chen Changsheng.
Unexpectedly, by afternoon, still no sign of the man.
Zhong Zhengyuan grew restless. He pulled out three Copper Coins and decided to divine an answer.
“Clink… clink…”
Three Copper Coins fell onto the table.
Chen Changsheng’s gaze shifted towards them.
Zhong Zhengyuan studied the resulting hexagram. Suddenly stiff, he lifted his head to look at Chen Changsheng.
Seeing his peculiar expression, Chen Changsheng asked, “What is it?”
Zhong Zhengyuan hesitated, then shook his head. “Perhaps I erred. Let me divine again.”
With that, he shook the Copper Coins once more.
The coins clinked down…
The resulting reading remained identical to the first.
Zhong Zhengyuan remained silent, just staring at the hexagram.
It seemed… there likely had been no mistake.
Chen Changsheng guessed something. He glanced towards the street beyond the Teahouse. His mood suddenly grew complex.
Zhong Zhengyuan raised his head, looking straight at Chen Changsheng once again.
“The person Mr. Chen is waiting for… probably won’t make it…”