After the reunion, the season of frost and cold drew near.
The mute uncle took Zhou Qi and San Bao to the street to have two padded cotton coats made and also ordered a set for every servant who had returned to work for the Fang family. Every corner of the Fang estate was now refreshed; the aged lintels had been given a new coat of lacquer, and incense once again burned in the ancestral hall that had previously been covered in cobwebs and dust.
Counting the days, the foreign envoys who had come to pay tribute were already on their way back. It would take Madam Liu about ten-odd days to return from the capital to Chuzhou. Since Prefect Feng had colleagues serving in the capital, he would likely receive news earlier than the Fang family. If all went as expected, within three to five days, this official would personally visit to “discuss” the matter of the accounts.
It was a cold day, and Fu Jingxuan hid under the covers unwilling to get up. He skipped breakfast and lunch; by mid-afternoon, he could no longer lie still and tossed and turned. Eventually, he sat up wrapped in his quilt with a head of messy hair while staring blankly at Fang Zesheng, who was sitting by the bed.
Fang Zesheng was flicking an abacus with a thick stack of account books sat on a small table the mute uncle had moved in for him. The beads clattered loudly, making it impossible for Fu Jingxuan to sleep. “What exactly are you trying to do?”
Fang Zesheng glanced at him. “Eat.”
Fu Jingxuan wrapped himself in the quilt and fell back onto the bed. “I’m not eating, it’s too cold.” He had been sensitive to the cold since childhood; once winter arrived, he would huddle by a stove and refuse to even step out the door. Although it wasn’t quite that cold yet, Fang Zesheng had already had the mute uncle light a small charcoal brazier in the outer flower hall of the bedroom to warm the room, specifically fearing that Fu Jingxuan would stay in bed and neglect his meals.
However, Fu Jingxuan was used to being idle and lazy. Growing up in the Fu family, no one had looked after his warmth or hunger with such detail. In the winter, he would sleep as long as he liked, only crawling out to find food when his stomach ached from hunger. He would lose several pounds every winter, a sight that always pained Fang Zesheng’s heart.
Today was no different. At the first sign of a chilly breeze and dropping temperatures, Second Master Fu had preemptively entered a state of hibernation. San Bao had come in several times to call him but failed to get him up, ultimately having to seek help from Fang Zesheng. He hadn’t expected that while Fang Zesheng usually lost to Fu Jingxuan in verbal sparring, he had quite a few tricks up his sleeve regarding this matter.
Fu Jingxuan listened to the “clack-clack” of the abacus while tossing on the bed for a while. He was just about to find something to plug his ears when he saw Fang Zesheng put down his account books and, as if by magic, produce a skewer of red hawthorns coated in crispy sugar and hold it out to him.
Along with it, he wore a solemn expression that clearly said: “Are you getting up or not? If you get up, I’ll give this to you to eat.”
Fu Jingxuan couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Not wanting his threat to fall through, he endured the burst of cold air, cast aside the quilt, and climbed out of bed. He washed up first, then took the sugared hawthorns, gave Fang Zesheng a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth, and headed to the kitchen to find food.
The meals in the kitchen had been kept warm. Seeing him wander over, the mute uncle hurried to serve the food on the dining table and poured him a cup of clear tea.
Fu Jingxuan grabbed an empty plate to set the skewer of hawthorns on the table. He hadn’t even finished a few bites when he saw Zhou Qi running over in a hurry to deliver a message: Prefect Feng had arrived.
This Prefect Feng had arrived at the perfect time; exactly five days after the foreign envoys had left the capital with their return gifts.
In the flower hall of the outer residence.
Dressed in cross-collared casual robes, Prefect Feng sat in a side chair sipping tea. Upon seeing Fu Jingxuan pushing Fang Zesheng through the door, he hurriedly set down his teacup and greeted them with a beaming smile. “It has been a long time, Head Merchant. Is your health still well?”
Fang Zesheng was slightly taken aback by this attitude, then nodded. “Please take the seat of honor, My Lord. This humble one is doing well; thank you for your concern.”
Prefect Feng nodded, offered a few more words of thoughtful care, and returned to the side chair to sit.
This was a breach of etiquette.
Fu Jingxuan contemplated for a moment, then pushed Fang Zesheng over to Prefect Feng’s side and sat with him in the side chairs as well.
Prefect Feng was forty-three years old this year; he was short and thin of stature, with a pair of eagle-like eyes that were shrewd and spirited, while his handlebar mustache gave him a deceptively simple and charming appearance.
He had indeed come today to address the issue of the Fang family’s leased land. He began at once by harshly scolding his own relatives, speaking with a tone of painful regret, “This official must ask the Head Merchant to take back these fields as soon as possible. Those younger members of my clan are simply not cut out for farming and land management. This official cannot have them ruining your tea fields and disrupting your business.” Having said this, he ordered his accompanying servant to bring over a locked square box of carved red sandalwood, which he opened and handed to Fang Zesheng.
Inside the box was a thick stack of land lease documents.
Fu Jingxuan stole a glance; the rent on every single document was very low, yet the terms were very long. They gave little thought to ten or eight years; some leases were even set for eighty or a hundred years; longer than one could hope to farm in a single lifetime. Before Prefect Feng’s visit, he and Fang Zesheng had already agreed on a strategy. Since ancient times, commoners did not fight officials; no matter how large the Fang family business grew, they would always be a head shorter when facing the authorities. Merchants in the current dynasty held some status, but had this been the previous dynasty, they would never have dared to sit as equals with an official like this.
Originally, concerning the lands leased to Prefect Feng, Fang Zesheng had planned to let him keep half. No matter how he handled things, some sacrifices were inevitable; after all, there would be significant reliance on officials for tea cultivation and trade in the future. They could not allow the relationship to become too rigid; otherwise, life would be difficult for everyone.
But this time, Prefect Feng had not only taken the initiative to return all the leased fields but had also deliberately lowered his stature while speaking with them. Even if the Fang family held the accounts of his business dealings with Wang Xiuhe, he should have arrived maintaining his official dignity to “negotiate” rather than being this genuinely polite as if he were the one being stripped of his rank.
Fu Jingxuan and Fang Zesheng exchanged a look, the same thought striking them both: the emperor had granted a reward.
And not just a reward; it was highly likely there were other boons involved as well.
After seeing off Lord Feng, the two returned to the study with the documents to discuss the matter.
“His Majesty couldn’t have just granted silver; it wouldn’t be that simple. If it were only silver, Prefect Feng’s posture today was far too low. How could an official lose face like that before commoners like us? Not only did he sit in the side seat of the flower hall, but he also returned all the leased land without taking a single penny as well. How could such a windfall exist?”
As Fu Jingxuan spoke, he picked up a thin bamboo stick to tease the two swallowfish in the bowl on the desk. The two fish had grown a bit larger and were swimming together in the calm water. The bamboo stick suddenly dipped into the water, driving a wedge directly between the two small fish and forcing them to part ways; only after the ripples subsided did they slowly gather together again.
Fang Zesheng sat quietly to the side. “If I haven’t guessed wrong, it must be related to state affairs.”
“State affairs?” Fu Jingxuan put down the bamboo stick and leaned against the desk to face him. “Why would state affairs require the concern of commoners like us?”
Fang Zesheng said, “If it weren’t so, why would Prefect Feng be so polite? He is an official, and officials fear the emperor. There must have been some imperial decree from the emperor that forced him into such a stance.”
Put it that way, it made sense.
Fu Jingxuan thought for a moment and asked, “Then what kind of decree could it be?”
Fang Zesheng pondered for a long time. Suddenly, his brow furrowed deeply, and he gripped Fu Jingxuan’s wrist tightly.
Then, he gripped it even tighter.
