Chapter 14: The Joy Fades

“Dong! Dong! Dong…”
When an official traveled, he was always accompanied by guards, men carrying ceremonial banners, and others clearing the way. Gongs would ring out to herald his approach, while whips drove people off the streets, all to display the official’s authority.
The procession halted in front of Cien Temple. The villagers of Cai Family Village didn’t dare approach but watched from the entrance, some clever enough to have already run off to inform the old master.
“Lord Cai has arrived! Why aren’t you all coming out to welcome him?” The man who had earlier been so eager to curry favor now called out with haughty arrogance, waving his finger dramatically in the air, as if he had a fit.
Cai Cong’s brow twitched as he stretched his leg from the sedan and kicked the man on the backside, snorting, “Meng Baolai, has a donkey kicked your head? I’m coming home—do I need to be welcomed? These are all my elders and brothers. Do you want me accused of gross disrespect for my kin?”
Meng Baolai took the kick with a grin and said cheerfully, “Indeed, it was my mistake. I forgot they’re all your fellow villagers. I deserve a beating.” He even slapped himself twice, though just lightly.
“You… Mother, mother! I haven’t seen you in days—are you well?” Cai Cong wanted to scold him further, but on seeing his mother emerge, he kicked Meng Baolai aside and dashed over with waving arms and legs, shouting with excitement.
“My son! My precious boy! Did they hurt you? Did you get food inside? Did you have blankets at night?” His mother swept him into her arms, gazing at him as if he were a priceless treasure, fussing over him as though he’d been cruelly mistreated.
“Mother, look—inside I ate well, slept well, even grew a little taller and plumper.” Cai Cong pinched his own chubby cheek as he spoke.
“So long as you didn’t suffer, my heart can rest easy,” his mother replied, finally breaking into a smile.
“Greetings, Madam. Our respects to you.”
The guards, sedan bearers, and servants who had accompanied Cai Cong all bowed or knelt, saluting his mother in unison. They dared not show disrespect; she might be only in her twenties, but her son was already a fifth-rank official!
“Oh dear, you, you gentlemen…” She had never experienced such a scene before, and, holding her son, was at a loss for words.
“Mother, look at your child,” Cai Cong said, tugging at his wide scarlet robe. The sight of the official uniform made his mother dizzy; this was the attire of a high official!
“Heh, your son is now a Gentleman for Consultation, a fifth-rank official.”
“Heavens! My Cong’er, you’re an official? How high is fifth rank? Higher than the county magistrate?”
“Well… The magistrate of Chang’an is also a fifth-rank post, so we’re about equal.” Cai Cong thought for a moment. While ordinary county magistrates were beneath him, the Chang’an magistrate was of the same rank, but wielded much greater power.
“Get up, all of you. Let me talk with my mother. Weiguo, arrange food for them—it must be noon and they’ll be hungry.” Cai Cong glanced at the kneeling servants, then turned to Cai Weiguo, who was peeking from behind the door, too timid to step out.
“Mother, where is Grandfather? How has he been lately?”
“Your great-uncle is well, eating and drinking as usual. It’s just… ah, you wouldn’t understand, you’re still a child.” Shaking her head, his mother led him into the old man’s room.
The old master lay on his bed, coughing phlegm to the side, a somber-faced peasant woman at his side holding a wooden bucket, waiting on him.
“Great-uncle, I’m back! I missed you so much!” Perhaps because he’d become a child again, Cai Cong found it easy to say such affectionate things, not the least bit embarrassed.
“Good, good, as long as you’re back.” The old man beamed, his eyes full of unconcealed joy, though there was a flicker of guilt as he looked at Cai Cong.
“Daughter-in-law, girl, you step out for now. I want a word alone with Cong’er.” The old man sat up as he spoke.

“Grandfather, about Cai Tian…” the somber woman began timidly, her voice barely audible.
“Don’t be upset. When he returns, I’ll give him a proper lesson. Foolish boy, a few coins and he loses all self-control.” With a wave of his hand, the old man dismissed them. Cai Cong’s mother and the woman left together.
“From the sound of it, what did Uncle Tian do to make you so angry?” Cai Cong casually asked, taking a date from the table and crunching into it.
“You may be clever, but you’re still a child—you wouldn’t understand. Don’t ask. But tell me, what’s the story here? Where did you get that official’s robe? Take it off right away—if someone sees you, it’ll be trouble!”
Windows in the old days were papered, so the room was dim even by day. The old man, his eyesight poor, had only just realized what Cai Cong was wearing and, startled, nearly leapt up to tear the robe off him.
“Trying to fool me? ‘A child wouldn’t understand’? Uncle Tian went to the brothel, didn’t he?” Cai Cong replied coolly, though he was annoyed. Life had just begun to improve, and already someone was squandering money on pleasure houses—never mind that, nominally, he was still serving hard labor.
“That’s a trifling matter, not worth fussing over. My boy, hurry and take it off—if you’re seen, someone might report you to the authorities.”
The old man, more worried about the official robe than his grandson’s visits to a brothel, staggered over, intent on stripping Cai Cong’s clothes.
“Great-uncle, please! This is my official uniform. I am now a fifth-rank official, personally appointed by the Emperor!” Cai Cong protested, dodging as the old man refused to believe him.
He then recounted everything that had happened recently, calling in the guards as witnesses. Only then did the old man grow wild with joy, muttering about returning to the ancestral hall to honor their forebears.
Return to the ancestral hall? With the chaos outside Chang’an—corpses on the roads, assassins on the prowl, Turkic spies everywhere—who would dare leave the city?
That night, the Cai family celebrated grandly. Though there was no fresh fish or meat, there was plenty of cured and salted fare. In these troubled times, to eat one’s fill was a great blessing, let alone to have meat. Everyone feasted heartily, even the little novices at the temple breaking their vegetarian vows.
The meal lasted until the moon was high. Even the night patrol stopped by several times, but Meng Baolai waved them off with his badge.
At dawn, Cai Cong was awakened by the sound of crying and scolding. He’d gone to bed early, unlike the others who’d indulged themselves.
In the temple’s front courtyard, Cai Tian’s wife and some village women sat wailing, while Cai Tian and a few bleary-eyed men cursed impatiently.
“I’ve never let you go hungry, not a meal nor a bowl of water. You should behave and mind your place as a woman, yet you dare meddle in my affairs? If not for the fact you bore me two children, I’d divorce you today,” Cai Tian yawned, looking thoroughly annoyed.
Hearing this, Cai Cong’s face darkened. If not for the food he had devised and the money he’d brought in, Cai Tian would likely be on the streets of Chang’an, selling his children by now. But with a few coins in his pocket, he thought himself entitled to squander it all on pleasure—utterly reckless.
Irritated, he pushed open his door and stepped out. Meng Baolai, on guard outside, snapped awake at once. Seeing Cai Cong’s grim face, he spoke carefully, “Young master, you’re awake. Shall I call someone to help you dress and freshen up?”
“No rush. Go and bring the troublemakers from the courtyard here. And tell them to keep quiet—they’ll wake the old master.” Cai Cong sat down on a stool by the door.
Soon Meng Baolai returned with the group. The women sniffled quietly, not daring to make a sound. Cai Tian bore a fresh red handprint on his face, clearly Meng Baolai’s doing.
“What’s going on?” Cai Cong finally asked after a long look.
Before Meng Baolai could speak, Cai Tian clutched his face and yelled, “So you think being an official makes you better than your uncle, getting your men to beat me? I’ll—”
“Sir, I called him, but he refused to obey and shouted instead. I had no choice but to deal with him,” Meng Baolai hurried to explain.
“I’m not asking why you hit him. I’m asking why there was such a commotion at dawn, disturbing the old master. If you wake him, I’ll deal with you all myself.” Cai Cong’s tone was chilly.

“Cong’er, now that you’re a high official, give your aunt justice. In times like these, with war against the Turks looming, isn’t it wise to save what little money and food we have? Yet this wretch has been frequenting brothels these days—do you think our modest means can stand such squandering?” Cai Tian’s wife said bitterly, looking at her husband with desperate appeal. Cai Tian ignored her, standing stubbornly with his head held high.
“Uncle Tian, if I recall correctly, your household receives two strings of cash and eighty pounds of rice a month. Is that enough for brothels? You must be watching others enjoy themselves, eh?” Cai Cong’s words were sharp, and Cai Tian flushed red, retorting stiffly, “That’s none of your business. It’s my money—I don’t need a youngster’s permission to spend it!”
“How dare you speak to an official like that! Men, seize this peasant and lock him up!” Meng Baolai roared, and two guards emerged from the shadows, grinning menacingly as they approached.
“What… what are you doing?” Cai Tian paled at last, realizing that an official’s authority—even if it was his nephew—could not be so casually dismissed.
“That’s enough. Step back,” Cai Cong ordered, and the two guards bowed and withdrew. “Uncle Tian, how you spend your own money is not my concern. But if you’re using the village’s funds for your pleasures, no one will stand for it.”
He cared little if his uncle squandered his own wealth, but the old man managed the communal stores. If Cai Tian stole and sold any, others would never forgive him. Cai Tian’s face darkened; after a moment’s hesitation, he turned and left.
“Sir, you were too lenient. I heard him comparing Little Peony to his own wife. Tsk, Little Peony is the star of Wind-Rising Pavilion—one night with her costs at least five strings of cash! He must have…” Meng Baolai bent low, fawning as he spoke.
Cai Cong shot him an impatient glare. “I’m still a child, and you talk to me about brothels? Disgusting. What about the task I gave you?”
“Sir, you just ordered it last night. It’s not even light yet…” Meng Baolai protested, aggrieved. If he were so efficient, he wouldn’t still be a low-ranking officer.
“I forgot—no one can go out at night. Get to it today. I’ll go back to sleep; call me if there’s anything important.”
Having tasted power, Cai Cong’s lazy nature emerged. He slept until the sun was high, and his mother finally dragged him out, dressed him, and washed his face.
“See? Look how capable Cai Cong is. He’s only eight, already has guards, and is an official. Son, you should be like him one day, understand?” With two burly men standing by as he washed, many looked on in envy.
Cai Cong paid it no mind. There might be millions in the Great Tang, but there was only one Cai Cong.
As he ate his millet porridge, Meng Baolai entered, saying, “Sir, the people you wanted—the general sent them this morning. Do you wish to see them?”
“Bring them in. Go tell General Li I want a great deal of gold and jewels—tell him to be ready. And go investigate which tribe among the Turks is largest, and which khan is the most greedy. Find out—I want all the information before I return to the yamen. Can you do it?”
There was a piercing authority in Cai Cong’s eyes, leaving Meng Baolai under intense pressure. For the first time, he realized how formidable the young master’s command could be. Little did he know, in his previous life, Cai Cong often tested his men with such pressure to see who was truly fit for responsibility.
“Sir, I…” Meng Baolai, just a junior officer, had only so much experience. He had killed a few men on the battlefield by chance, but to investigate khans and tribes was beyond him.
“Well? If you can’t do it, I’ll find someone who can—no need to force yourself.” Cai Cong smiled warmly then, his severity melting away like spring sunshine.
“Sir, give me one day. Before sunset, I will have all the information you need,” Meng Baolai vowed, his face flushed. He had fought for his future on the battlefield; now that opportunity was at hand, he couldn’t let it slip by.
“Good. Go now. Send them in.”
Meng Baolai withdrew. Soon, twenty people filed in, making the room feel cramped. They were old and young, men and women, all ill at ease, but suppressing their discomfort as they faced the dignified Cai Cong.
(End of chapter)