Chapter 132 — Celebration Banquet
By now, the gunfire at the foot of the mountain had long ceased. The entrance to the gorge had already been taken over by soldiers in uniform. Xu Jun was there with his men, attending to the wounded and transporting supplies.
Xie Jing had been carried down the mountain by Lord Bai Jiu. From a distance, Xu Jun saw him and immediately approached, asking, “What happened? Where are you injured?”
Xie Jing waved his arm lightly. “It’s nothing, just a minor wound.”
Xu Jun breathed a sigh of relief but insisted, “I still want a doctor to check you.”
The doctor who arrived was also a familiar face. Having just finished bandaging an injured salt worker nearby, he walked over carrying his medical kit. Seeing Xie Jing, he broke into a smile: “Little Xie, is that really you? I just heard someone say the young master shares your name, and I thought I must have misheard.”
Xie Jing didn’t expect that the doctor accompanying Lord Bai Jiu would be Fang Jiwu. Fang Jiwu examined his external injuries while Xie Jing glanced at him briefly before looking outside. Lord Bai Jiu had brought many people this time—some of them had stayed in the Northern lands to accompany the late patriarch.
Xie Jing looked up at Lord Bai Jiu, concern in his eyes. “Master, how are things in the Northern lands?”
Lord Bai Jiu said, “The rebellion has been quelled, though the Japanese have been causing trouble. Old grudges aside, business will have to be consolidated.”
“Is it serious?”
“Not too bad. Russia has been more chaotic these past two years, so business couldn’t proceed anyway. After consulting my grandfather, he decided to move southwest—something we anticipated years ago.”
Lord Bai Jiu reached out, plucking a blade of grass from Xie Jing’s hair and brushing against the coral bead on his braid. “So you dress like this in Sichuan?”
Xie Jing froze for a moment, cheeks flushing red, and reached to remove it. Lord Bai Jiu stopped him. “No need. Just looks interesting.”
He ran his hand along Xie Jing’s braid, thumb brushing his ear where a plain silver earring rested. “Is this also a Sichuan custom?”
“Yes.”
“You wear it well.”
Xie Jing’s entire ear turned crimson. He clenched his fists and avoided meeting Lord Bai Jiu’s gaze.
Lord Bai Jiu withdrew his hand quickly. Xie Jing felt a breeze from the mountains on his cheek, cooling him slightly.
Lord Bai Jiu, acquainted with the military personnel, went with Xu Jun to exchange greetings. After a short while, they returned, and the group set off for Zhuandou Village.
They all rode in one carriage. Xu Jun watched soldiers clearing the battlefield and cautiously asked, “Mr. Bai, the people of Sichuan are grateful for your aid, but I wonder—who is the young general accompanying you?”
Lord Bai Jiu replied politely, “Xu Er, no need for formalities. We’re about the same age—you can just call me Bai Jiu.” He glanced outside the carriage, smiling softly. “As for the companion, his name is Luo Nianqiu, a friend of mine. We studied under the same teacher in the capital, Huang Mingyou. His family hails from Shu. It’s a coincidence that he came along, but he ended up helping you a bit as well.”
Xu Jun asked, “How long will General Luo stay in Sichuan?”
“Up to half a month, at least three or five days.”
Surprised, Xu Jun asked, “Just passing through?”
Lord Bai Jiu nodded. “Also to escort someone.”
Before Xu Jun could ask more, hoofbeats sounded ahead. Soon, he heard the voice of Xie Siquan. The head of the Xie family had, unable to wait, immediately brought men to meet them upon hearing the news. Riding alongside the carriage, he didn’t enter, merely gesturing in greeting. When he saw Xie Jing, he leaned forward, laughing warmly: “Jing’er!”
Xie Jing responded with “Uncle,” looking up at him.
Xie Siquan ruffled his hair vigorously. “Good boy! I’ve heard all about it. Later, we’ll go to Zhuandou. I’ll throw a banquet to welcome you—let’s drink well!”
In Zhuandou Village, after Xie Jing got off the carriage—his arm still injured—Xie Siquan let him rest while preparing the evening banquet. Xu Jun hesitated briefly but, seeing Xie Jing sticking close to the Bai family, didn’t intervene, only having Hu Da accompany him. Xu Jun followed Xie Siquan as they left.
Hu Da wanted to follow, but the guards with Lord Bai Jiu were unlike those Xie Jing had in Sichuan—stern, cold-faced, like an iron wall blocking him.
Hu Da, a native of Sichuan, was tall locally but could not compare to the Northern guards. Jumping, he called “Young Master!” but only heard Xie Jing’s reply telling him to wait outside.
Hu Da had no choice but to step back, squeezed into a corner by the door, watching as Lord Bai Jiu brought Xie Jing into a flower hall.
Inside the hall, a display shelf served as a partition. Beyond it, three people sat by a table—two playing chess, the third observing.
Xie Jing followed Lord Bai Jiu around the shelf, recognizing old friends.
Huang Mingyou was playing chess against He Dongting. Standing beside them, holding the chair back, was a young man Xie Jing hadn’t seen in years—Cao Yunzhao.
Xie Jing had received Cao Yunzhao’s kindness before and immediately recognized him. “Young Master Cao!”
Cao Yunzhao looked up, startled, then smiled and stepped forward, examining Xie Jing. “Little Xie? Incredible—you’ve grown so tall! Come closer, let me see—” He reached out to pull Xie Jing, but Lord Bai Jiu stopped him.
“Bai Jiu, what’s this? Can’t even look?”
“Looking is fine, don’t touch—he’s still injured.”
He Dongting quickly stood. “How is he injured? Let me see. Has the doctor checked? Is it serious?”
Three of them crowded around Xie Jing. Cao Yunzhao worried for his beloved friend, He Dongting for his son—every touch cautious, careful not to hurt him. Huang Mingyou, more relaxed, chuckled: “Luckily it’s the left hand; the right can still write.”
He Dongting disagreed, still wanting a doctor.
Xie Jing said, “The doctor has already treated it. It’s fine now.”
They sat down and chatted, catching up.
Xie Jing didn’t expect all of them to gather, and upon asking, Cao Yunzhao proudly said, “Little Xie, you must be curious how I came. I returned from studying abroad, was assigned a post, and traveled a long way to assume it. Coincidentally, I met Mr. He and my teacher in Shanghai, and we traveled together from there.”
Lord Bai Jiu sipped his tea. “Some people kept asking in Shanghai, looking for funds. They didn’t know I was only there to oversee things.”
Cao Yunzhao laughed. “Our friendship doesn’t need such formalities.” Then, curious, he looked at Xie Jing. “I never knew Mr. He was your father—truly surprising…”
Lord Bai Jiu subtly stepped on his foot under the table.
Cao Yunzhao hissed, stopping mid-sentence.
He Dongting, holding his teacup, slightly averted his gaze, rare nervousness on his face. He cleared his throat to say something, when Xie Jing spoke: “Yes, some matters happened before; I didn’t have time to explain.”
Cao Yunzhao sensed the tension and tried to lighten the mood: “Ah, there are stories here. Mr. He seems to care for you. Sweet reward after hardship.”
Xie Jing nodded. “Father cares for me very much.”
The word “Father” made He Dongting’s grip on the teacup tremble. He stifled his excitement, lips quivering slightly.
Lord Bai Jiu changed the topic, discussing machinery purchases with Cao Yunzhao, mentioning the He family business. Most were banks or industries, while Cao Yunzhao, from a political family, had plenty to discuss. Huang Mingyou, curious about Sichuan terrain, asked Xie Jing questions, learning some interesting things—he marveled when Xie Jing mentioned black brine salt.
Xie Jing said earnestly, “I’ll take you there someday; you can try it.”
Huang Mingyou’s eyes lit up. “Excellent!”
He Dongting watched Xie Jing with a gentle smile. Occasionally coughing, his temples had already grayed in a few months, giving him a slightly aged look, but his expression was kind.
Soon, Xie Siquan sent word to invite them to the banquet.
The first-floor hall and the private rooms on the second and third floors were set for the celebration. It was lively, with everyone drinking heartily.
The Sichuan salt families, united after this ordeal, hosted the banquet in the largest private room. The last guest, Luo Nianqiu, arrived fashionably late.
