Chapter 119 — A Rabbit Leg
Xie Jing followed him inside, thinking Xu Jun wanted to teach him some family rules, but instead, the man began explaining the history of the Xie family ancestors.
A few days ago, when Xie Siquan had brought him to offer incense, it was done casually—nothing like Xu Jun’s solemn manner now. This was the first time Xie Jing had ever heard the full story of the Xie clan.
The Xie family had been a great clan for over a hundred years, rising and falling through the ages. They had known both glory and decline. By the time it came to Xie Siquan’s generation, only a bit of wealth remained. The siblings, brother and sister, guarded this fortune cautiously. For the first thirteen years, it was the elder sister Xie Yuan who raised and taught her younger brother. Later, it was thanks to Xie Siquan’s boldness and courage that they reclaimed the ancestral business and brought the family to its current prosperity.
Xu Jun said, “Your uncle never liked studying, and he hated the rigid rules of the Central Plains—but you can’t really blame him. That’s always been the Xie family way.”
He led Xie Jing to a mud statue on the altar and said, “Your family only ever produced one official—this is him.”
Xie Jing asked, “A scholar?”
Xu Jun replied, “No, a county magistrate who bought his title.”
Xie Jing: “…”
That… was indeed typical of the Xie family.
Xu Jun continued, “That man even wrote poems and essays praising the ‘Heavenly Fire’ of Western Sichuan—”
“What’s Heavenly Fire?”
“Your uncle must’ve taken you to the salt fields, right? Next time you go, look carefully. Beneath the cauldrons, they use a kind of gas that can be ignited—it doesn’t need wood, hence the name ‘Heavenly Fire.’” Xu Jun explained, “Your ancestor even wrote a whole booklet about it, describing how to drill a hole in the ground, place an iron pot on top, and cook food that way. He vowed to spread this method across the land. If not for the treacherous Sichuan mountains and poor roads, the book would have circulated throughout the country.”
Xie Jing thought he might’ve imagined it, but he could have sworn he saw the second-in-command smile.
Xu Jun lit incense, bowed with Xie Jing, and said, “Your ancestor spent his life trying to promote Heavenly Fire, not realizing that such natural gas exists almost nowhere outside Sichuan. But since it was his vow, if there’s ever a chance, his descendants should try to fulfill it.”
After that brief family history, there wasn’t much else to say. The ancestral hall had once been burned down, and over the years, many relics were lost or scattered. Only this one simple, earnest ancestor—who had spent his life praising ‘Heavenly Fire’—remained to be honored. As for family rules, there were none to be found; if any ever existed, Xie Siquan had likely torn them to shreds long ago. With his temper, no rule could bind him.
After showing him around, Xu Jun casually asked, “Those Bai family men—did you bring them of your own will, or did Lord Bai Jiu send them with you? You’re home now, free to act as you wish. No one in the upper city will dare stop you.” His last words clearly meant to shield Xie Jing.
Xie Jing said, “I brought them myself. I borrowed manpower from Lord Bai Jiu.”
Xu Jun nodded. “If you ever lack people, just tell me. I’ll find as many as you need.”
Xie Jing said softly, “I don’t plan to stay in Sichuan long. I’ll be returning to Lord Bai Jiu soon.”
Xu Jun frowned but said nothing.
That morning he took Xie Jing around the estate, and at noon brought him to a restaurant. He didn’t order the elegant ya fish, but a dish of mapo tofu instead—fancier than what Xie Siquan had ordered on the road, and even cooked with pork brain, giving it a richer aroma. Half of the dish was mild, the other half spicy. The mild side was infused with chicken broth, smooth and delicate, without any beany smell—more tender than meat.
Xie Jing ate heartily.
Xu Jun was pleased. He spooned rice for him and said, “Your uncle said you liked this dish. I wanted to bring you here to try it. If you like it, we can hire the cook to work at home.”
Xie Jing replied, “The cook at home is good too. The noodles I had this morning were delicious.”
Xu Jun asked, “Do you need anything else? I can take you shopping later.”
Xie Jing shook his head. “No, I have enough.”
After two bowls of rice, Xu Jun slowed down to chat. They talked about life in the north. Then Xu Jun asked, “Your uncle told me you studied for a few years?”
“Mm.”
“Would you like to go back to school? There are some good ones here in Sichuan, and even a new university—though it’s a bit far. If you prefer, I can hire tutors to teach you at home. Anything you want to study?”
Before Xie Jing could answer, laughter came from the stairs.
Xie Siquan appeared, spotted them, and quickly came over with a grin. “I heard you brought Jing’er out to eat, guessed it must be this place.” He sat next to Xie Jing warmly. “Well? The food good?”
Xie Jing nodded and poured him tea. Xie Siquan drank it in one gulp, half his fatigue vanishing.
Xu Jun gestured for another bowl and chopsticks, handing him a full bowl of rice.
Xie Siquan, who had been busy all morning, was starving. Between mouthfuls, he asked, “What were you two chatting about?”
Xu Jun replied, “About school. I asked if Jing wanted to attend a local academy or the new-style university.”
Before Xie Jing could speak, Xie Siquan cut in, “No need for university—it’s too far. He should stay home.”
Xie Jing followed along: “Mm, I don’t want to study.”
Xu Jun frowned slightly. “But I heard you’re talented—excellent memory, can even speak foreign languages. It’d be a waste not to study.”
Xie Jing lied seriously, “They exaggerated. I don’t like studying.” He only planned to stay in Sichuan for half a year—to settle Grandma Kou—and had no desire to stay longer. His only wish was to return to Lord Bai Jiu soon.
Xie Siquan, very understanding of this mindset, immediately defended him: “No studying! What use is all that nonsense? Didn’t he learn bookkeeping? You can teach him yourself.”
Xu Jun was briefly stunned. “I…”
“Jing’er, have some dishes!” Xie Siquan interrupted quickly. Seeing Xie Jing only eating tofu, he added meat to his bowl. “Don’t just eat tofu—try something else. No need to be polite among family.”
The dishes were all good, but when Xie Jing was given greens, he avoided them twice—until his uncle insisted, watching him eat them all.
Xu Jun watched and chuckled quietly. This man barely ate properly himself, but was surprisingly attentive to the boy.
Later, Xu Jun formally began tutoring Xie Jing—carefully structured lessons, thorough notes.
But an unexpected delight followed: within a few days, Xu Jun discovered how fast Xie Jing learned. His basics from Lord Bai Jiu were solid, and he grasped new concepts instantly. Xu Jun had never taught someone so gratifying before. What others called “photographic memory” was no exaggeration—this boy really had it. His arithmetic, both mental and with an abacus, was flawless. If Xu Jun hadn’t known he once worked in the Bai family’s Eastern Courtyard guard unit, he would’ve thought Xie Jing was a trained heir from a great family.
Xu Jun’s attitude softened—he was satisfied in every way.
As he flipped through the ledgers and sipped tea, Xie Jing quickly finished calculating the totals. Xu Jun nodded. “Correct.”
Xie Jing turned a clean page and looked up expectantly.
Xu Jun, ever more pleased, asked, “Jing’er, have you studied this before?”
Xie Jing thought and said, “I was Second Young Master’s study companion.”
Xu Jun nodded. “Ah, that explains it.”
In great households, the young masters often slacked off, while their study companions—if gifted—actually learned more. Though there was one downside—
Xu Jun’s gaze dropped to Xie Jing’s hands. His tone cooled. “At the Bai house… were you ever beaten?”
Xie Jing chuckled softly and shook his head.
Xu Jun’s expression eased.
After another hour, he told the boy to rest. Xie Jing stood and stretched, about to leave for his courtyard.
“Jing’er, wait,” Xu Jun said. “I need to tell you something.”
Xie Jing paused.
Xu Jun hesitated, then said, “That guard waiting outside—the one named Wang Su, right?”
Xie Jing nodded. “Yes. What about him?”
“This morning someone saw him leaving through the back gate to deliver a letter. The letter was about you.”
In a blink, Xie Jing realized what had happened. His ears reddened slightly. He asked carefully, “Oh? Where did he send it?”
“To Shanghai—your Bai family.” Xu Jun frowned. “I don’t know what kind of relationship you have with those guards, but spying and sending reports so openly is unacceptable. I had the letter intercepted.”
Xie Jing quickly said, “That’s not necessary—I told him to send it.”
Xu Jun looked puzzled. “You told him? But it detailed all your recent movements.”
Xie Jing couldn’t hide his curiosity. “How detailed?”
Xu Jun snorted. “Every hour of the day—down to what you ate for each meal.”
Xie Jing laughed softly.
Xu Jun waited, even more confused.
After thinking a bit, Xie Jing said, “There’s someone I care about—at the Bai family’s Eastern Courtyard. There’s nothing between us that needs hiding. I want him to know everything… just like you and Uncle.”
Xu Jun’s eyelid twitched. “Oh? And when did you figure that out?”
Xie Jing scratched his nose. “You and Uncle? The night we came back from Zhuandou. I went on patrol, ran into you upstairs, and thought something felt off. Didn’t think too much then… but these past days I’ve watched you both, and well, it’s obvious.”
Xu Jun didn’t deny it. He stood there, hands clasped in his sleeves, fingers tightening slightly—nervous.
He said stiffly, “Anything else you’d like to ask?”
Xie Jing replied cautiously, “Have I finished today’s lessons? Can I go? Grandma said she’s making stew for lunch. I should go eat.” Then, worried he’d offended him, he added, “Second Commander, why don’t you come too?”
Xu Jun followed him to the side courtyard, where Grandma Kou had indeed cooked her specialty. Sichuan dishes were too spicy, and the northern guards weren’t used to them, so they were all waiting eagerly for her “special pot.”
That morning, Wang Su and the others had hunted wild rabbits. Grandma Kou cleaned and chopped them, then made a big pot of rabbit stew in northern style—rich and fragrant.
There was plenty of rabbit meat. Xu Jun also got a large bowl. He sat watching Xie Jing eat, and perhaps because the boy ate so happily, he found himself eating a whole bowl as well.
Throughout the meal, Xie Jing acted perfectly normal.
If there was any difference, it was only that he gave Xu Jun a rabbit leg—no longer so overly polite, a touch more familiar.
Xu Jun silently ate the leg clean to the bone—carefully, as though cherishing it.
Author’s Note:
A side story about “Heavenly Fire” (natural gas):
The ancestor, Magistrate Xie, once wrote sincerely:
“The poor suffer, smoke fills their kitchens;
May this method spread across the land—
A flame beneath the pot that needs no wood!”
[Translation]:
Dear friends, cooking is hard work, right? Have you ever thought of drilling a hole in the ground? My goodness! Try this amazing trick—make a hole, and gas will come out! Light it, and you can cook instantly! I dream that one day everyone in the world will know and use Heavenly Fire, so no one will ever struggle to cook again. Love you all!
