Chapter 28: Reeling in the Net Ahead of Time

On this particular day, Tang Hongdou, with a single performance of “Water Dragon Chant,” earned the title of the foremost courtesan in Chang’an.

On this same day, Meng Xiaodie’s unexpected rendition of “Slow and Slow” suddenly brought her value to new heights, and for a time, her fame even overshadowed that of the newly crowned courtesan.

It was also on this day that a group of thirty men rode out swiftly through Chunming Gate, their destination Tianshui City, their mission to intercept a caravan transporting coptis from Longxi.

Again, on this day, a wealthy landowner named Wang caused a commotion in the Warm Jade Pavilion to no avail, ultimately storming off, fuming with resentment.

Still on this day, a fat man surnamed Sun completed his final transaction. Thus, the wealth-gathering scheme that had been in motion for twenty-one days began to close its net ahead of schedule.

On this day as well, Zheng Yongxiang changed into new clothes, gathered Wang Song and a retinue of household servants, and set out for the Feng residence with an imposing air.

It was yet another pleasant and comfortable afternoon, with sunlight bright and the temperature mild.

Feng Jingzhe, rubbing sleep from his bleary eyes, squatted at the gate, washing up in a daze.

Beside him, the old foreman holding a blueprint chattered incessantly. The renovations of the inner courtyards were now nearly complete; everything that needed replacement had been replaced, with only the painting left to be done.

The garden nursery had been cleared entirely; once the pond and rockery were arranged, all that remained was to plant the trees.

Gurgle… rumble… sputter…

Feng Jingzhe put away his boar-bristle toothbrush and wiped his mouth.

“Old man, your team is really dragging its feet! My mother arrives on the third of next month, and if you don’t finish by then, do you still want your wages or not?”

“Yes, yes, yes… Young master, rest assured, there are still several days until the third. I’ll arrange for more workers tomorrow. I guarantee that even the smell of paint will be gone by then… But, about the cost of materials, young master, could you…”

The old man’s face was all smiles, but he hesitated to speak.

“Old man, now that’s not right. When we signed the contract, we agreed that you’d advance all the materials, and we’d settle everything after inspection. What are you trying to say now?”

“Heh heh… Young master Feng, to be fair, since construction began, you’ve changed the blueprints how many times? Just moving the latrine into the bedroom meant re-digging all the sewer lines…”

Feng Jingzhe stared straight at the old man, his eyes full of mischief.

“Playing the pauper, are you? How much have you made selling my flush toilet design on the side? Shouldn’t we have a proper conversation about that…”

“Heh heh, I’m just venting a little, young master, don’t take it seriously… Of course, payment will be settled upon completion… heh heh…”

“Heh… Their money isn’t urgent, but what about what you owe me, Third Young Master Feng? Shouldn’t that be settled first?”

At these words, the old man and the youth at the gate both looked up to see Zheng Yongxiang swaggering over with a group of lackeys.

“Why do you cling to me like a piece of stubborn taffy? Isn’t it tiresome to bring up the same matter again and again? There are still eight days until the property is repossessed—what’s your hurry?”

Feng Jingzhe’s temper, still raw from waking, made his tone especially sharp.

“Haha, but what you owe is hardly just one debt.”

Wang Song, the steward, immediately produced a thick stack of IOUs, each for various amounts, mostly in the dozens of taels.

“A total of eight thousand taels. Kindly settle your accounts, Third Young Master.”

Feng Jingzhe didn’t even need to look to know the situation, and his brow furrowed instinctively.

“If I’m not mistaken, the agreement states in black and white that the accounts are settled monthly, with interest at one-tenth. It’s not yet time, by any calculation.”

“True, but it only says interest isn’t due before the month’s end. It says nothing about not reclaiming the principal early. I’ll forgo all interest—just return the principal, eight thousand taels, in full.”

Zheng Yongxiang’s forceful manner quickly drew a crowd of passersby. Several small vendors left their stalls and hurried over, for they too had borrowed money at interest.

Feng Jingzhe’s face grew darker. Though he had foreseen such a situation, it had come days earlier than planned.

“Haha, since you’re willing to waive the interest, I’ve no objection to repaying the principal. Three days from now, at this very time, you shall have the eight thousand taels, plus the previous fifteen hundred, not a coin short.”

“Three days? Out of the question! I’m afraid if I come back in three days, you’ll have vanished.”

By now, a sizable crowd had gathered in the street before the Feng residence. Zheng Yongxiang’s words instantly caused a stir.

“Master Zheng, what do you mean? Why wouldn’t we find Third Young Master Feng in three days?”

“Yes, yes! Is he planning to flee the city?”

Shills planted among the crowd played their parts at just the right moment, and sure enough, Wang Song, the steward, stepped forward to put on a show.

“Flee the city? My young master is afraid this Feng fellow will run off with the money! There’s word that the Feng family’s caravan to Longxi was burned to the ground by bandits near Tianshui, all their coptis shipment destroyed. In other words, this Third Young Master has no way to repay his debts, let alone the interest.”

This news exploded among the onlookers like a thunderclap, and in an instant, several older people in the crowd, unable to bear the shock, slumped to the ground.

“What? My money is gone… Oh no… That was my life’s savings…”

“Swindler! This Feng is a swindler! He’s been cheating us from the start…”

“Surround him! If he won’t pay, we’ll beat him—never mind his noble title!”

The atmosphere was incited by those with ill intent, as if boiling oil had met water, and chaos broke out.

Zheng Yongxiang’s household servants moved swiftly, immediately blocking Feng Jingzhe’s escape. The crowd, though agitated, still held back from violence.

“Young Master Feng, is what they’re saying true?”

“Yes, Young Master, that was the coffin money I saved up over a lifetime. If it’s lost, how am I to live…”

“Young Master Feng, you must give us an explanation today. Even if you’re the fiancé of the General of the Western Garrison, we won’t let this go. We’ll petition the palace if we must…”

Hemmed in, Feng Jingzhe kept his lips pressed tight. But just then, he caught sight of a familiar face on the edge of the crowd—Li Shin-chan the Long-lived.

That fellow had finally returned, which meant that Fat Sun had finished closing his net.

With the gloom in his heart swept away, Feng Jingzhe glanced once more at Zheng Yongxiang, the author of this scheme, and an unbidden, graceful smile curved his lips…