Chapter 356 Blockade

Chapter 356: Blockade

Meng Wan set out from Sanquan Village at the end of August, spending nearly two months on the road before arriving in the capital at the end of October. By then, Shengjing's climate had shifted—autumn was fading and early winter chill was setting in. Stuck in the carriage, lifting the curtain revealed withered yellow grass along the roadside being torn apart by the cold wind—just watching it made a desolate chill well up in his heart.

"Papa, when we get back, can we rest a few days before going to the tutor's lessons?" A Yan, wrapped in his padded coat, his little face peeking out with a pleading look.

Meng Wan flatly refused. "No. You've already missed a lot of school. When the deep cold hits at year's end, it'll be vacation time again—how can you rest more?"

"Hmph, hmph." A Yan didn't dare defy Meng Wan's words, only letting out small grumbles to vent his dissatisfaction.

Meng Wan pinched his soft, chubby cheek. "What's with the grumbling?"

A Yan was only seven years old, but because both Song Tingzhou and Meng Wan were on the tall side—especially Song Tingzhou, who towered over other civil officials—A Yan had started growing like a weed since he was six. He was chubby and well-fed, and now, like a little bull calf, he buried his head into Meng Wan's chest.

As luck would have it, the carriage jolted to a stop. The impact made Meng Wan's stomach hurt, and he felt like kicking his son out of the carriage. "Get... off me."

"Fulang, are you alright?" Chi Yu, who was driving, pulled back the curtain and asked.

A blast of cold air rushed in, but outside wasn't the familiar sight of their front gate. Meng Wan replied, "I'm fine. Why have we stopped before reaching home?"

Meng Wan hadn't written ahead to Song Tingzhou before returning to the capital. Once inside the city, he made a beeline for home. Their home was in one of the best neighborhoods in the city—even high-ranking officials of the second and third rank couldn't get a place in Shengjing's inner city.

They were already close to Frost Flower Lane, almost home—so why had they stopped?

Chi Yu sounded just as frustrated. "Looks like someone's blocking the road up ahead. A bunch of carriages are stuck here and can't get past. Want me to go check it out?"

Meng Wan frowned slightly. "Stay put. Have Songshan and the others go find out what's going on."

Right after, Chi Yu's voice rang out calling for Songshan.

A Yan peered out the window curiously. "Papa, there really are a ton of carriages here!"

"Mm, sit tight and don't move." Meng Wan sat steadily in the carriage. If it wasn't sorted out soon, he'd just get out and walk home—it wasn't that far anyway.

Songshan hurried over to report. "Fulang, apparently someone's making trouble up ahead. The Commander of the Capital Suburban Camp is stuck on the main street up ahead."

"Who's doing the blocking?" Meng Wan thought the title "Commander of the Capital Suburban Camp" sounded really familiar.

Songshan had only caught bits and pieces. "Sounds like... a bunch of scholars?"

"Scholars?" Meng Wan found this even more off. The Emperor had just taken the throne, and official positions were up in the air. With the spring examination approaching next year, large numbers of provincial graduates from across the Yu Kingdom were heading to Shengjing to sit for the exams. They'd encountered several groups along the way.

Now these scholars weren't studying in their inns or lodgings—they were blocking people on the street?

Seeing that the carriages ahead wouldn't be moving anytime soon, Meng Wan made a quick decision. "You all stay here and guard the carriage. A Yan, Tong'er, get off—we're walking home."

Meng Wan jumped down from the carriage, the hem of his frost-white, fur-trimmed outer robe lifting briefly before falling heavily back into place. He stamped his numb legs, then reached up to lift the shorter Tong'er down while A Yan hopped off on his own.

The two children were each held by one of Meng Wan's hands as Chi Yu led the way ahead.

Walking along the edge of the street, the further they went, the more carriages were parked crosswise. Many people had gotten out to walk like Meng Wan, and young ladies and gentlemen wearing veiled hats, ignoring their servants' protests, craned their necks curiously.

At the center of the street, several carriages were parked crosswise blocking the way. About thirty or forty scholars dressed in blue scholar's robes had gathered, faces flushed with indignation as they shouted accusations.

"Commander Qin! As a member of the imperial family and Commander of the Capital Suburban Camp, you openly committed violence in the street, completely disregarding the laws of the court!"

"Though we come from humble origins, we are provincial graduates who passed the prefectural examinations! We carry the court's favor, representing the teachings of the sages and the dignity of scholarship—how can we be humiliated without cause?"

"Ten years of hard study, seeking only to share the realm's burdens and speak for the people—yet before we've even set foot in the court, we suffer official bullying! Your conduct will chill the patriotic hearts of scholars across the land!"

The scholars grew increasingly impassioned, and a chorus of agreement rose from the crowd.

Facing them were several military officers on tall horses, led by none other than Qin Jiao, the newly appointed Commander of the Capital Suburban Camp.

These scholars were eloquent and sharp-tongued, while his officers were each more tongue-tied than the last.

Qin Jiao had been listening to these scholars prattle on with growing impatience, when out of the corner of his eye he noticed many of the scholars in the back rows sneaking glances at a fried cake stall by the roadside.

Qin Jiao was almost amused. What, had they gotten hungry from all the shouting?

He turned to look—everyone around was watching the commotion, except at the fried cake stall, where two adults stood with two children buying fried cakes.

One of the adults, a fulang, wore a frost-white, knee-length outer robe with dark green inner layers visible at the hem, collar, and cuffs, making his skin appear even fairer than snow. His long ink-black hair was pinned up with a single white jade hairpin carved with auspicious clouds. His unadorned, stunningly beautiful face outshone all the elegantly or luxuriously dressed ladies and gongzi present—no wonder those country bumpkins couldn't take their eyes off him.

A smile surfaced in Qin Jiao's eyes. From horseback, he called out in a lazy, casual tone, "Master Meng, long time no see. Didn't Lord Song say you were still back in your hometown?"

Since he'd been spotted, Meng Wan led the children a few steps toward Qin Jiao. Holding a freshly fried cake on a small wooden stick, he puffed out his cheeks to cool it, found he couldn't take a bite just yet, and spoke to Qin Jiao first. "Just got back and already treated to a fine show from the Marquis."

Qin Jiao smiled wryly. "Don't mock me."

Their easy familiarity made it obvious they knew each other. Everyone present knew Qin Jiao was the current Emperor's brother-in-law, the younger brother of the Empress herself—which made Meng Wan's identity all the more mysterious.

Among the crowd, one scholar's gaze slid between Qin Jiao and Meng Wan. Something seemed to occur to him, and a look of righteous indignation crossed his face. He stealthily darted forward two steps and gave a hard shove, sending the scholar at the very front—the one with the sharpest tongue—stumbling toward Qin Jiao's horse's hooves.

Fortunately, Chi Yu was nearby. With quick eyes and faster hands, he grabbed the scholar and pulled him back to safety. Even so, the tension in the air instantly reached a breaking point.

Qin Jiao knew he couldn't let anything happen to these scholars at this moment—that's why he'd been holding his ground. If any of these croaking frogs actually got hurt, he'd be in for serious trouble.

"Did you really hit someone?"

The red bean paste fried cakes were crispy, sweet, and fragrant, but too many grew cloying. After finishing one, Meng Wan took a moment to ask Qin Jiao.

Qin Jiao dismounted and walked over to speak with Meng Wan. "Some idiot I've never seen before jumped out and started cursing me while I was watching a play at the theater. Pure provocation. I gave him one kick, and today I got blocked here."

Meng Wan pondered for a moment but couldn't make sense of it. Seeing Qin Jiao looking ready to fight to the death, he gestured with his chin toward a group of armored guards in a side alley and said in a low voice, "The Wucheng Military Office people are over there watching the show."

And it seemed they'd been there for a while—those armored guards were keeping their eyes and ears open, watching the situation develop without stepping forward.

Qin Jiao shot a dark look in that direction. The armored guards in the alley felt a jolt of alarm. The commander of the North City Patrol, who had been slouching against the wall with only his black boots visible in the sunlight, noticed his subordinates' unease and hurriedly leaned out to look—right into Qin Jiao's fierce glare.

He straightened up abruptly and, without a word, led his men toward the scene.

The Wucheng Military Office dispersing the scholars was far easier than Qin Jiao trying to do it himself. They alternated between gentle persuasion and outright pressure, warning that if the scholars kept pressing on and it reached the Shuntian Prefecture office, the magistrate wouldn't be lenient—and if he caught them and punished them severely, they could forget about the spring examination next year. With this combination of carrot and stick, the scholars finally backed down.

Meng Wan bent down to wipe the oily faces of A Yan and Tong'er. "Haven't had the chance to congratulate the Marquis on his promotion. We'll catch up another day."

"Whenever you're free." Watching Meng Wan and his group slowly walk away, Qin Jiao finally remounted his horse.

There were too many carriages blocked on the street. By the time Meng Wan and the others reached home, Songshan and the rest still hadn't arrived with the carriage.

The gatekeeper gasped in surprise. "The Fulang is back!"

The entire front and back courtyards sprang into motion.

"Fulang, would you and the two young masters like to wash up first?"

"Huh? Why isn't the carriage here? Fulang, is the old madam coming behind?"

"Fulang, a thick stack of letters arrived from the south—the master put them all in the study."

"Hungry from the journey, dear husband? Want something quick to hold you over, or should I put out a full spread?"

The two kids started tearing around as soon as they got home. Gui Fang and Gui Yuan, who they hadn't seen in a while, chased after the two little masters, while Zhu Yu and Zhu Sha kept busy tidying up the western courtyard where A Yan would stay, laying the bedding out to air.

Meng Wan headed straight to the main courtyard, sat down in a chair in the hall to rest, and rattled off orders to the servants.

"Mother stayed in the countryside and didn't come back. Our carriages are all parked on Huai'an Street—send a few people over to go fetch them."

"Bring in some warm water for me to freshen up, and just whip up something simple, like soup..."

Someone brought a brazier of charcoal into the room. After washing up, Meng Wan sat by the brazier, waiting for his hair to dry while reading the letters from down south.

The top one was from Chu Ci. It had no wax seal, so Song Tingzhou must have already read it.

Chu Ci's proposal trip had gone smoothly, as expected. The Miao family had watched him grow up and had no reservations about handing A Xun over to him. However, Elder Miao was getting up there in years and might not make it to their wedding in the capital next year.

To comfort the elder, and because Qing Xing also worried that A Xun's period of mourning might delay the wedding, they suggested just holding a simple ceremony in Xiwu Prefecture. The Miao family wouldn't fuss about the scale of it.

Meng Wan set the letter aside, figuring Song Tingzhou had already replied.

Next came Nie Zhiyao's letter. After Yue Zhengqi went to pick him up, those two decided to stay in Xiwu Prefecture until mid-September, then head back to the capital once the weather cooled down. By their calculations, they should arrive home before the new year.

Then came letters from the sugar workshop and the post station, a personal letter from Tang Jinshuang, a letter from Na Tuo who'd just learned his letters, and many letters from the children at Songyun College.

The carriages entered the residence, and the place perked up with the extra people. Huang Ye went about his usual task of taking stock of things and sent Zhifan over to look after Meng Wan.

Seeing Meng Wan absorbed in his letters, Zhifan refreshed the tea in his cup on the kang table and ushered in the kitchen maid delivering the meal. He asked softly, "Dear husband, the kitchen has sent over the meal. Should it be served on the kang or in the main hall?"

Meng Wan looked up. "The kang is covered in letters—I don't want them getting dirty. Serve it in the main hall."

He got up and walked toward the main hall. "Are A Yan and the others eating in their own courtyard?"

The kitchen staff, holding a heavy wooden tray, waited as Zhifan arranged the dishes one by one on the octagonal table. "The young masters said they wouldn't come over. They've had their meal set up in the western courtyard, with the same dishes as yours."

Three plates of side dishes and half a pot of red date and japonica rice porridge were set on the table. In his previous life, Meng Wan had mostly eaten in cafeterias. After coming to the Song family, his tastes gradually shifted toward Chang Jinhua's and Song Tingzhou's—he ate proper meals without favoring sweets or desserts.

The habit of drinking soup only started when the family went to Lingnan. Since there was porridge on the table, the cook hadn't made soup. She had sliced a plate of sour bamboo shoots, pan-fried a plate of small yellow croakers, and stir-fried shredded pork with potato—all according to Meng Wan's preferences, without any heavy meat dishes.

Meng Wan had eaten a fried cake on the street. Though it had staved off hunger at the time, it wasn't easy to get a proper meal on the road, and he was craving something hot.

He downed three bowls of porridge and finished all the side dishes. Seeing that it was still early, he rinsed his mouth and curled back onto the kang to continue reading letters. The kang was warm from the burning charcoal, and before long, Meng Wan's eyelids began to droop involuntarily.

He slept soundly and sweetly. When Meng Wan naturally woke, the kang table had already been moved away. A thick quilt covered him, making his cheeks flush pink.

"Father's awake!" A Yan's crisp voice came from nearby.

Steady footsteps drew closer, and a familiar scent enveloped Meng Wan. Someone supported his neck, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around the person's neck.

"Slept enough?" Song Tingzhou maintained his slightly leaning position, letting Meng Wan hold him.

Slept enough? He'd slept from noon until dark—more than enough. Meng Wan languidly refused to open his eyes, half-hanging from Song Tingzhou.

A Yan had been playing with a Jiangren figurine on the soft couch. Glancing over occasionally, he felt that his father acted differently around his other father—even more prone to acting cute than the soft and delicate Qiongniang.

Unbearable to watch.

Half-covering his eyes, A Yan hugged his new figurine and ran out.

Once he left, Song Tingzhou directly turned over with Meng Wan in his arms, leaning back against the kang and letting Meng Wan lie on his chest.

"Why didn't you write ahead to let me know you were coming back?"

Meng Wan reached up and touched Song Tingzhou's face. "If I'd told you, you'd only have worried. With Chi Yu on the road, there was no danger. It's fine."

Song Tingzhou took one of his hands down and lightly bit it. "Don't do that next time."

Meng Wan squirmed against him, then raised his head to kiss Song Tingzhou's chin. "I know."

"Mother didn't come back with me."

"Hmm?"

"She said she wants some peace and quiet in the countryside. The capital makes her uncomfortable."

"When Xiao Ci comes back, we'll be holding the wedding banquet here."

"She'll definitely come then."

The two had been apart for a while—not too long, not too short—and still missed each other. Now they leaned together like this, talking softly. In the dim candlelight, the atmosphere was especially tender.