Chapter 122 — Fuhu Temple
Huang Wanxing was somewhat displeased. He looked at Li Chunlin and asked, “I spent so much manpower and resources, risking a deal with a pots company, and you handled it like this?”
Li Chunlin began to plead, tears streaming. “Master, it’s just that Xu Jun’s subordinate was reckless and rude. I didn’t even get a chance to say anything…”
“Say anything? Now all of Sichuan knows the Huang family trading company sold inferior salt, and ten years of business ruined because of you!” Huang Wanxing kicked him and cursed, “Useless fool!”
Li Chunlin clung to his legs, begging: “Master, please give me another chance. I promise I’ll get it done this time.”
Huang Wanxing asked, “And how do you plan to do that?”
Li Chunlin replied quickly: “We’ll also go to Rongcheng and contact the newspapers. If the Xie family publishes in one paper, we’ll publish in two or three. If they write for half a month, I’ll have someone write for a full month. I have a nephew working in a newspaper; I’ll have him write even more news to suppress this matter…”
At first, Huang Wanxing listened without issue, but when he heard the last sentence, he felt uneasy.
The Huang family had only risen in the lower city for less than ten years. The most educated heir had only reached middle school, and even that required donations to continue studying. Work in a newspaper was for educated people—ordinary folks couldn’t do it. The Huang family had wealth but no scholarly tradition. Li Chunlin, the senior steward, had been valued for his literacy. Now he claimed to have a nephew working in a newspaper—rumors had been spreading in Sichuan that the Huang family servants embezzled wealth and schemed to seize control.
Huang Wanxing eyed Li Chunlin warily.
The “nephew” in the newspaper was actually a distant relative with no real connection—Li Chunlin just said it to flatter himself. Sensing Huang Wanxing’s dissatisfaction, he was eager to impress.
Huang Wanxing returned to his seat without saying a word.
Li Chunlin grew anxious, kneeling there without daring to move.
After a while, Huang Wanxing sipped half a cup of tea and finally spoke: “Forget about publishing in newspapers. But since this time you mishandled things and the pots business suffered major losses, I’ll deduct a year of your salary.”
Li Chunlin quickly agreed. “As you wish, as you wish.”
He agreed so readily that Huang Wanxing’s gaze darkened. “In that case, you may leave for now.”
“Master, the upper city salt field business…”
“You just got out of prison. Go home, rest a few days. Don’t worry about these matters for now.”
Li Chunlin swallowed the words at the tip of his tongue and simply nodded.
In his forties, no longer young, Li Chunlin had knelt for a long time in the room. When he finally got up, he limped slightly, hands on the wall to steady himself.
A loyal subordinate came over to help, but Li Chunlin shook his head: “No need. Tell me what happened during this time. Why does the Master distrust me so deeply?”
The subordinate whispered: “Master Li, after you were imprisoned, our master initially wanted to sue the Xie family in the upper city and take the injured comprador to the authorities as a witness. But Xie Siquan also sent someone to the authorities.”
Li Chunlin frowned. “Who did he send? Someone official?”
“…He sent the old steward from the salt field, claiming he was also injured by our men that day.” The subordinate paused and whispered: “That old man is seventy or eighty, covered in plasters. Even a slight touch made him cry in pain, and he could barely speak. Xie Siquan used that as an excuse to drag it out for three days, and then the matter was published in Sichuan newspapers, leading to the situation today.”
Li Chunlin pondered for a moment. If that were all, it wouldn’t have caused such a rift between master and steward.
When he returned home, he found thieves had broken in. They had not only stolen money but also knocked a large hole in the courtyard wall, roughly patched now. His family cried at his return, snot and tears streaming: “You’re back! Thieves came and stole many valuables. The authorities caught a small thief and recovered a bundle of gold and silver, but the officials said only Master could claim it…”
Li Chunlin almost choked. “And the thief is in the authorities?”
“No,” his family cried. “The small thief was fined and beaten the same day and released. The gold and silver are held by the authorities—they refused to hand it over, no matter how many times we asked.”
Li Chunlin groaned: “Foolish! You’re all so foolish!”
His family kept crying, insisting he go claim the bundle. Li Chunlin’s mind raced but he couldn’t explain to them. Then he realized—it had to be Xie family’s doing.
From the start, the newspapers had been used strategically. They knew imprisoning him wouldn’t last long, but a few days were enough. Rumors spread across Sichuan, and even a trusting Huang Wanxing would start to doubt. It was a classic divide-and-conquer strategy. Li Chunlin felt the bitterness of being trapped in silence. He had suffered in prison, now kneeling again at the Huang family home. Stumbling, he blacked out.
Before losing consciousness, an image flashed in his mind: a young man, silent but with a face resembling the Xie family master. His eyes were like blades in snow water, sharp and cold.
—
Upper City, Xie Family
Xie Jing stood in the center of the hall. On the main seats sat Xie Siquan and Xu Jun. Rows of chairs flanked them, holding several senior stewards and salt field managers.
Xie Jing reported the past few days’ events in the upper city. Having spent most of his time in the north in study, he was accustomed to formal speech and spoke fluently.
Xie Siquan sipped tea slowly, glancing at the others, suppressing the corners of his lips from rising.
After discussing the newspapers, Xie Jing spoke about recent personnel arrangements. He hadn’t managed the salt field directly, but with the dozens of guards assigned by Xie Siquan, he simply summarized: “Following the elder master’s orders, all major salt fields in Sichuan have curfews. Additional guards have been posted. Others have been sent to the pots to discuss the inferior salt. With expedited horses, replies will come in a few days.”
When Xie Jing finished, Xu Jun asked, “Does anyone have anything to say?”
Several salt field managers rose first. “Nothing more. Thank you, Young Master, for supporting us. We’re reassured.”
Merchants also stood. “Thanks for sending extra hands. Business has been better these days, and with the salt brothers watching over things, we feel at ease.” Thanks to newspaper coverage, the Xie family’s various shops—from salt to medicinal herbs, green tea, and Shu brocade—sold much more than usual. The stewards’ eyes shone as they looked at Xie Jing.
Xu Jun, seeing no objections, turned to Xie Siquan: “Elder Master?”
Xie Siquan cleared his throat, set down his tea, and tapped his knees. “Young Master has done well. Everything else will proceed as you said. This meeting ends here. Dismissed.” He waved for Xie Jing to step forward and patted his arm. “Jing’er, stay. I have something to say to you.”
Xie Jing remained standing, hands behind his back.
Xu Jun glanced at him, then looked at Xie Siquan lounging carelessly and shook his head. “You’re still like a child.”
Xie Siquan was brimming with pride, toes tapping, chin raised. “Jing’er is so capable. Not just me—who in all of Sichuan could devise such clever ideas?”
Xie Jing, having heard much praise these days, remained calm.
Xu Jun said, “No outsiders. Jing’er, sit. Let’s talk.”
Xie Siquan pulled a chair for Xie Jing, sitting him next to his deputy. “What’s next?”
Xie Jing shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Xie Siquan: “Huh?”
Xie Jing explained: “It depends on the other side. There’s one way to deal with clever people, ten ways to deal with the foolish.”
Xie Siquan: “How do you deal with clever people?”
Xie Jing: “One force breaks ten plans.”
He said it seriously, as if he could really do it. Xu Jun smiled, and Xie Siquan laughed heartily. After brief discussion, they set aside the Huang family issue. Xie Siquan reassured Xie Jing: “Huang Wanxing is fortunate, nothing more. He’s not ready to bring his fortune to the upper city. Likely before he acts, others will have their eyes on it.” He glanced at Xie Jing, eyes slightly curved. “Jing’er, I’ve been busy and haven’t asked. I heard… you’ve been learning from Xu Jun lately… anything you want to ask me?”
His transition was abrupt; Xie Jing was confused.
Xu Jun sat nervously, holding his tea.
Xie Siquan scratched his head awkwardly. “You think he’s a good person, right? He knows a lot. Of course, your uncle isn’t bad either.”
Xie Jing considered and cautiously complimented him: “Uncle is both scholarly and martial. I’ve often heard the salt field heads speak of you.”
Xie Siquan glanced at Xu Jun, who stared straight ahead, unhelpful. “Anything you wish to ask us?”
Xie Jing paused, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stone tiger. “Uncle, I never got a chance to ask. This belonged to my mother, found inside a Buddha statue. Have you seen it?”
Xie Siquan looked and suddenly exclaimed, “Ah!” He examined it. “Oh, this came from Fuhu Temple on Yunmeng Mountain. My sister and I went to the mountain to worship, and we picked it up. She found it interesting—didn’t expect it would remain until now.”
Xie Jing was puzzled. “Found by chance? But it has a star map.”
He pointed it out; Xie Siquan looked but didn’t recognize it, only noticing some faint indentations. “I don’t know about that. Too many years have passed. My sister never mentioned a star map. Perhaps it was added later. Where is this star map from?”
Xie Jing: “It’s of Sichuan.”
Xie Siquan froze, then lightly brushed the stone tiger and chuckled.
It was carved by his sister. No doubt.
She was thinking of Sichuan.
Thinking of home.
