Chapter 33

Chapter 33

"By the way, Boss, about what I mentioned yesterday regarding Shen Yushu, I plan to bring it up to the patrons after today's storytelling session." Shen Yuan had promised Shen Liushu to help find his brother, and since he couldn't search elsewhere, mentioning it to the patrons was his only option.

Shen Yuan sighed helplessly, "I don't hold much hope, but what if there's a lead?"

"You always see the good in things. Alright, I'll go attend to the guests now. Hurry up and come out once you've tidied up."

Ji Xingwang headed to the main hall, while Shen Yuan went to find Auntie Chun to ask her to prepare four servings of steamed sweet milk custard.

It then occurred to him that Brother Ping'an's Fifth Grand-uncle might have bad teeth, so he decided to prepare an osmanthus honey flavor for the elderly man.

Since Ji Ping'an wasn't particularly fond of sweets, Shen Yuan instructed Auntie Chun to make three servings with osmanthus honey and one with almond slices. One of the osmanthus honey custards was to be packed separately in a small snack box.

Auntie Chun agreed to everything and told Shen Yuan to come pick them up after his storytelling session.

The storytelling reached the point of Chu Qi's death.

Liu Mingqing went to the Chu family with the prescription, only to learn that Chu Qi was about to be married.

She bypassed the guards and arrived at Chu Qi's courtyard.

Finding no servants or maids in the yard and the door to the room wide open, she entered and saw Chu Qi, dressed in bright red wedding attire, sitting pale-faced on a wooden chair.

Chu Qi had lost his sight.

His hearing was also poor, but he still sensed that it was Liu Mingqing who had come.

"You've finally come."

Liu Mingqing stepped forward, her outstretched hand pausing mid-air. "My grandfather and I wrote a prescription. Follow it, and you'll recover."

Chu Qi shook his head, "Mingqing, I don't want to get married. Will you take me away?"

As soon as he finished speaking, an angry roar came from outside, "Good! I knew this wild mountain girl wouldn't let my son go! Today, she finally came! Guards, grab this woman!"

At Old Master Chu's command, a group of guards rushed in with swords drawn.

Liu Mingqing felt a force at her waist. By the time she realized what was happening, she had been pushed away, while the emaciated Chu Qi held a sharp dagger against his father's neck.

Chu Qi had sensed something was wrong earlier—the unusual lack of guards in his courtyard. Anticipating his parents' plans, he had come prepared.

"Let her go, or I'll kill you."

Old Master Chu's blood boiled with rage, "You unfilial son! This is treasonous! I am your father! You dare try to kill your own father!"

Chu Qi ignored him, pressing the dagger closer. Old Master Chu felt a sting on his neck, and the smell of blood filled the air.

Old Master Chu's lips twitched, thinking that the Taoist priest was right—his son had gone mad, lost his soul!

"Let her go!"

Liu Mingqing looked at Chu Qi, "Are you stupid? You'll die!"

She knew Old Master Chu had murderous intentions toward his own son. Chu Qi probably wouldn't survive.

"Take her away, now!" Chu Qi shouted with all his might.

A guard rushed into the room and dragged Liu Mingqing away.

"Chu Qi, this old man has many sons. You were the most outstanding, yet also the most disobedient and useless." Old Master Chu's voice was calm. Sensing that Chu Qi no longer had the strength to restrain him, he snatched the dagger and plunged it into Chu Qi's chest. "You've only been holding me back, damn it! A useless thing like you might as well die."

Chu Qi collapsed to the floor, his clouded eyes gazing outside.

"I'm not stupid. I just love you."

"Don't hate me anymore, Mingqing. Being hated by you hurts more than drinking talisman water or having my soul summoned."

"Now, can I be Seventh?"

"Mingqing..."

Chu Qi had lied. He didn't actually want to die. He wanted to return to the thatched hut, to be the free and happy Seventh, learning to process medicinal herbs from Grandpa Liu, following Liu Mingqing to heal the sick and forage for herbs in the mountains. Every day, he would pick the most beautiful flower and tuck it into his beloved's hair, watching her smile—a smile more beautiful than any flower.

"You have to miss me."

Chu Qi breathed his last.

Liu Mingqing, who had been taken away, received Chu Qi's final words from the guard.

On a piece of cloth were written Chu Qi's longing and his love.

"Mingqing, you abandoned me, and I resented you for it. But I couldn't bear to hold that resentment, so I punish you to live well. Every year on my birthday, make a bowl of steamed sweet milk custard for me, and I will forgive you."

"Mingqing, you and Grandfather must both live well."

In the tea house's main hall, sobs filled the air, mingled with angry curses.

"Young Master Chu!!!"

"You died so tragically!!!!"

"Damn that Old Man Chu! Even a tiger doesn't eat its own cubs! May you die a wretched death!"

Shen Yuan didn't dare speak for a moment. He clutched the storytelling block, slowing his breathing, afraid of getting caught in the crossfire and scolded again—after all, he had written the story.

Beside him, Wang Sanhu and Fang Zaoshang were also weeping uncontrollably. They wiped their tears, picked up their trays with red-rimmed eyes, and followed the equally teary-eyed Ji Xingwang to collect tips.

The patrons cried and cursed, but they had thoroughly enjoyed the story.

They paid up without hesitation, forking over money while crying, their voices hoarse as they asked Ji Xingwang where they ranked on the reward board. Ji Xingwang glanced at the daily updated ranking list next to the tray and reported their rankings based on the bamboo slips.

Guests who felt their ranking was too low contributed more silver as rewards.

Shen Yuan waited for everyone's emotions to settle somewhat before speaking, "I have an impertinent request. A close friend of mine left to seek a livelihood a year and a half ago and has not returned home since. His name is Shen Yushu, and he is twenty-one years old. He stands over seven chi tall—nearly six feet—with a burn scar on his left hand. If any of you know someone matching this description, please keep an eye out and send word to the tea house."

The patrons nodded, "Finding someone is easy enough, but Young Shen, your stories really mustn't be so heartbreaking anymore!"

"Yes, I haven't cried like this in years. This year, I've cried more than ever before."

"But your stories are so well-told, so satisfying to listen to. Now, if I couldn't hear the stories, I wouldn't know how to pass the time."

"Exactly, exactly. Back in the days without storytelling, I don't know how I endured it."

Others focused on different details, "Hey, that steamed sweet milk custard Young Master Chu mentioned—we've never heard of it. What kind of food is it? Did it only exist in the previous dynasty?"

"Yeah, the name sounds interesting. It seems like it might be made with malt sugar."

In later times, granulated sugar, cane sugar, and rock sugar were not yet available here. In the state of Wu, maltose and honey served as the primary sources of sweetness, with dried dates and other fresh fruits as secondary sources.

Most countries were similar, though the state of Westmoon had an additional cane syrup, a must-have drink at noble banquets during autumn and winter.

Seeing that the tea guests did not reject helping to search for someone, Shen Yuan felt relieved. Just as someone inquired about the steamed milk custard, he continued along the topic, "Tomorrow, the teahouse will introduce steamed milk custard. However, the custard is difficult to make, and the supply of honey and fresh buffalo milk is limited. Only twenty servings will be available daily, sold until they run out. So, guests who wish to taste it must draw lots first tomorrow; those who draw the red-marked lot can purchase a serving."

"Honey is precious and hard to obtain, and buffalo milk is also scarce. Therefore, the steamed milk custard is not cheap—five taels of silver per serving."

Whether it was dairy dishes or honey, only the nobility could enjoy them.

The teahouse could obtain some milk and honey solely because it was backed by the Ji household; otherwise, it would be impossible to procure even the raw materials.

Indeed, both milk and honey were extremely precious, especially honey. In this country, where aside from maltose, there were no other sugars and no beekeeping, natural honey was exceptionally rare.

One catty of honey could be exchanged for two bolts of coarse cloth, which only the nobility could afford—equivalent to ten taels of silver.

Calculating the cost per serving based on the amount of honey and milk used: honey cost eight hundred wen, milk cost four hundred wen. Adding transportation, storage, labor, and other miscellaneous expenses, the total cost came to two taels per serving.

The teahouse needed to make a profit, and the ingredients were expensive. Given the stable market prices, they could not sell below cost, so the price was doubled.

At five taels of silver per serving, the steamed milk custard was nothing to these wealthy and leisurely tea guests.

They only wanted to taste the flavor of the steamed milk custard that the direct descendant of the foremost family of the previous dynasty had longed for.

Hearing the price, Ji Xingwang felt fortunate that he had tasted it during the trial production and even enjoyed four bowls. He feared that after this, he would never have such an opportunity again.

Aside from being expensive, the ingredients were also scarce, so it was unlikely he would ever get to buy it.

Moreover, five taels of silver for one serving was enough to feed his family for a year. Spending it all on a bowl of custard was simply unaffordable.

But at least he had made plenty that day and brought some home for everyone to taste. It was worth it.

After wrapping up everything at the teahouse, Shen Yuan hurriedly ate a few bites of food before carrying a food box to the dock to meet Ji Ping'an.

After walking for half an hour, he arrived at the dock. The longshoremen were on break, and with no crowds coming and going, he spotted Ji Ping'an at a glance.

Ji Ping'an stood with his head bowed beside his father.

Not far away, Magistrate Pang knelt on the ground, slapping his own face, surrounded by a group of uniformly dressed guards with swords at their waists, projecting a formidable aura.

Song Zijuan, who had kindly reminded them yesterday, was still smiling as he pinched Magistrate Pang's face and asked, "Magistrate Pang, I told you Young Master Lin dislikes people approaching him. Why didn't you listen? Does it hurt?"

Magistrate Pang's cheeks were flushed red. Glancing fearfully at the person sitting in a chair not far away, he dared not utter a word of pain.

He hurriedly said, "I was wrong to ignore the warning and insist on approaching Young Master Lin, inviting him to my residence. I brought this on myself. It doesn't hurt, it doesn't hurt."

"Since it doesn't hurt, then continue," Song Zijuan let go and said with a smile.

Magistrate Pang had no choice but to obey, gritting his teeth as he resumed slapping his own face, not daring to make a sound.

Ji Ping'an and Ji Mingfeng, the head of the Ji family, were equally terrified, breaking out in a cold sweat. Zhao Yueyun had already fainted from fear and was carried off by her maid.

The dock was crowded with people, yet an eerie silence fell over the area.

The stifling heat did nothing to alleviate the chilling fear in everyone's hearts.

It was at this moment that Ji Ping'an felt a poke on his back.

"Brother Ping'an, are you here watching the spectacle?" Shen Yuan asked Ji Ping'an with a smile. "It's so hot at noon. Why not get out of the sun?"

Shen Yuan knew there was some commotion going on over there. Afraid of disturbing the group, he deliberately lowered his voice.

The naturally sociable and unafraid Shen Yuan reached out and familiarly hooked arms with Ji Mingfeng, while looking around curiously. "Huh? The shopkeeper said your parents would come too, Brother Ping'an. Haven't they arrived yet? I also prepared steamed milk custard for them."

"Fifth Great-Uncle, why aren't you leaving?" Shen Yuan wanted to say that the custard won't keep and suggested sending two servings back to the residence with a servant to keep them on ice. But when he realized he couldn't pull the man along, he turned back curiously and sincerely advised, "Fifth Great-Uncle, you're sweating so much from the heat. You really shouldn't stand under the blazing sun anymore."

Ji Mingfeng dared not move, screaming inside his head: I'm sweating from fear! And who is this person?!

Ji Ping'an looked grave and suddenly knelt down, addressing Xie Yulin, who had glanced over, "Fifth Great-Uncle, please forgive us. Shen Yuan is a sworn brother of mine. He is naive and sincere but does not recognize Fifth Great-Uncle. If he has offended you, I beg you to spare him this once."

As Ji Ping'an knelt, his father, Ji Mingfeng, had no choice but to follow.

He was overwhelmed—this kid was shouldering all the blame!

For his son's sake, he could only pull his arm free and kneel down. "It is my fault for failing to discipline him properly, leading to this grave mistake and offending Fifth Great-Uncle."

Shen Yuan was still confused. Had he mistaken the person?

Ji Ping'an quickly grabbed Shen Yuan's hand, pulling him down to kneel, anxious and fearful. "Xiao Yuan, beg for mercy quickly!"

Before Shen Yuan could even get a good look at the person opposite him or understand why he needed to beg for mercy, he was pulled down to kneel as if he were a puppet. "I beg... I beg Fifth Great-Uncle for mercy."

Ji Ping'an urgently corrected him, "Call him Fifth Great-Uncle."

"I beg Fifth Great-Uncle for mercy," Shen Yuan repeated the plea with feeling. Seeing how anxious Brother Ping'an was, he decided to just follow instructions for now, regardless of the reason.

Xie Yulin's icy gaze fell upon the youth.

Dressed in coarse hemp garments, he was neat and clean.

He was somewhat thin, with a handsome face. Even while begging for mercy, he didn't seem afraid.

"Song Zijuan," Xie Yulin's gaze turned colder. "Go fetch the items and return to the ancestral residence."

Song Zijuan replied "Yes" and immediately went to retrieve them.

He crouched down. "May I ask, young man, which one is for Young Master Lin?"

Shen Yuan pointed to the small food box. "This one."

As Song Zijuan placed his hand on the small food box, Shen Yuan added, "The steamed milk custard doesn't keep long and should be eaten soon. If eaten too late, it might cause diarrhea. If Fifth Great-Uncle enjoys it, he can come to the teahouse to listen to storytelling while eating it. I'll reserve the best seat for Fifth Great-Uncle."

Song Zijuan froze, giving Shen Yuan a strange look. Seeing the other's sincere expression, as if genuinely inviting someone to the teahouse, his expression grew even stranger.

Was this kid a bit off in the head?

Daring to invite Young Master Lin?

Song Zijuan didn't dare delay or answer on Xie Yulin's behalf. He could only force a stiff smile, pick up the food box, and hurry back.

In the Xie family carriage, Song Zijuan sat on the outermost side, near the door.

Xie Yulin sat in the middle, leaning against a soft pillow. "Open the food box and see if it differs from the steamed milk custard of your Westmoon."

Song Zijuan respectfully nodded and opened the food box. A milky fragrance wafted out, making his mouth water.

He picked it up and examined it carefully, then shook his head. "In Westmoon, only the royal family could eat steamed milk custard. As a commoner, I never got to try it. From what I've heard described, it seems this steamed milk custard is even better."

The sweet milk curd from the Kingdom of Westmoon is more viscous, like a sweet milk porridge.

This particular serving of milk curd was set firm, with a hint of sweet wine underlying the milky fragrance—it was quite different.

Song Zijun set down the milk curd. "What should be done with this curd?"

He knew Xie Yulin never ate food from outside, considering it unclean. He had posed the question knowingly.

Xie Yulin said, "If you want to eat it, just say so. If you dare test me again, go take your punishment."

Song Zijun smiled. "Your subordinate wouldn't dare."

"Go investigate that Shen Yuan," Xie Yulin said, closing his eyes. "If there’s anything unusual, arrest him immediately."

This was a clear suspicion that the other party was a Westmoon spy. Seeing that Xie Yulin was resting, Song Zijun didn’t dare make a sound.

However, he thought it unlikely. If the person were a spy, they were far too careless, practically wearing a sign on their face that said: "I’m a Westmoon spy, and I plan to get close to the Xie family’s direct descendant through the element of surprise."

But then again, what if there really was a spy that foolish?

At the very least, the other party had succeeded in drawing attention.

Look, hadn't even the perceptive Young Master Yulin remembered the name?

Song Zijun recalled Shen Yuan’s reminder that the curd couldn’t be kept for long. It would be quite a while before they reached the ancestral home, and by then, it certainly wouldn’t be edible.

So he quietly opened the food box and began eating, bite by bite.

Mmm! It was so fragrant!

Song Zijun ate faster and faster. Suddenly, Xie Yulin, who was supposed to be sleeping, spoke coldly, "Get out and eat it."

"Going, I'm going," Song Zijun replied, holding the curd in one hand and the food box in the other as he scurried out in a fluster.

While eating, he thought to himself: tomorrow he would go to the teahouse to investigate and see what that storytelling was all about.

Even a "know-it-all" like him had never heard of it—how very strange.

Yes, he would definitely have to eat a few more bowls of that sweet milk curd.