Chapter Ninety-Two: Who Is the Fool?

The autumn moon hung like a lonely maiden hidden shyly behind the branches of an ancient locust tree, its orange glow gentle as flowing water.

In the night, the crickets sang in bursts, as if accompanying the deep and melodious strings of a qin. Eyes half-closed, fingers lightly plucked the strings, Lu Liao Liao completely immersed in the sorrowful yet exquisite sound.

On the qin table, a delicately crafted incense burner emitted curling smoke, enchanting as a beautiful sprite dancing alongside the music. Bai Liangqi stood behind his master with hands clasped, standing properly. Though young, he could not grasp the qin’s profound meaning, yet a subtle sadness appeared on his innocent face.

“The autumn night is long, yet the end is not near; the moon shines clear, dew pure and bright; distant towers and pavilions gaze upon each other.

Across the endless river, north winds rise, south geese fly; noble orchids and chrysanthemums bloom in their season.

Clinking rings and dragging footsteps echo in the long corridor, grinding clothes for you on this autumn night.

Delicate silk faces the phoenix, crimson brocade pairs the mandarin ducks; the sound of pounding cloth stirs longing and sorrow.

Sorrowful thoughts, soldiers far from home in distant lands; no news from the Crane Pass, the Dragon Gate road stretches long.

You are in the farthest sky, cold clothes emit fragrance in vain.”

Beside the tea stove, the elder Zheng Hui, much older, recognized the qin piece being played: “Autumn Night Long.” He softly recited a poem by the former dynasty’s poet Wang Bo, matching the rhythm of the qin. His youthful voice blended naturally with the melody.

The lingering notes gradually faded into the quiet night. Lu Liao Liao rested his chin on one hand against the qin stand, eyes still closed, as if asleep.

“Master, is the Tang dynasty about to go to war again?” Zheng Hui, young but keenly perceptive, asked.

“Beyond the indulgent Chang’an, the borderlands of the Tang have never been free of war. I played ‘Autumn Night Long’ merely because it reminded me of a woman who deeply detests war,” Lu Liao Liao said, glancing wistfully at the bright moon.

“I know, Master. You must be thinking of Sister-in-law Aimeier. She once told me how her people were displaced and homeless because of the war,” Bai Liangqi said smartly, then suddenly realized his impropriety and bowed his head fearfully.

A sharp pain stabbed Lu Liao Liao’s heart. The name Aimeier was a taboo in the Lu household—few dared mention it, knowing how deeply it wounded him.

Patting Bai Liangqi fondly on the head, Lu Liao Liao took a deep breath. “It’s alright. You still remember Sister-in-law Aimeier. That’s good, very good.”

Not far away, in the shadowed corridor, Tang Xiao Qi wiped away tears and approached with a bright smile.

“Master, if your qin skills during the recent contest had been like tonight, you wouldn’t have lost first place to Sister Ye Lai, disguised as a man,” she teased.

“Heh,” Lu Liao Liao smiled faintly. “My skill is nowhere near hers. It’s only the scene and the mood that make my music sound so moving.”

“The night is late and chill deepens. Zheng Hui, you and Senior Brother Liangqi should go rest,” Tang Xiao Qi said, noticing Bai Liangqi’s unease and signaling them to leave.

“Ah,” only after they were gone did Tang Xiao Qi sigh deeply. “Liao Liao, you carry so much in your heart, but I am of no help and only a burden. I feel so useless.”

Gently pulling her into his lap, Lu Liao Liao cupped her worried face. “Seeing your smile is enough for me. So don’t overthink things.”

“I heard about your upcoming contest. It seems that the wealthy Wang Yuanbao is deliberately making things difficult for you. He looks down on you, a scholar of humble birth, and wants to marry his daughter to the young marquis of the Qin House. What if you fail to stop Lu Jiu’s plan and she marries into the Qin family? Will we be trapped under Qin Ruochen’s control forever?”

Tang Xiao Qi’s brows knitted with worry.

“Don’t worry. No matter how Wang Yuanbao schemes, I will do everything to prevent Lu Jiu’s marriage. If all else fails, we’ll follow my master and his wife’s example—retreat to the mountains and live in seclusion. This world is vast; we’ll find a way to survive,” Lu Liao Liao reassured her, patting her shoulder firmly.

Tang Xiao Qi looked pale and sorrowful, her eyes full of apology as she clung tightly to him, afraid to let go.

***

The autumn wind swept through the fragrant rice fields.

Lu Liao Liao, Jun Ruochen, and a throng of idlers and curious onlookers arrived once more at Dayu Town, beneath Mount Zhongnan.

Under watchful eyes, the two were led into a study in the front courtyard.

An elderly man surnamed Wang, with snow-white hair and sharp spirit, greeted the respectful young men with a warm smile.

“Here are official uniforms and weapons of the Dayu town constables, along with ten-day temporary appointment papers. Also, the deed to a small steamed bun shop here, plus one hundred copper coins capital. Choose whichever identity you prefer and reside in Dayu Town for ten days.”

Having spoken, Old Wang fell silent, watching the two young men choose.

Jun Ruochen’s mind raced swiftly; his eyes flashed as he glanced at Lu Liao Liao.

“I took advantage of you in our last match, so this time, Brother Lu, you choose first,” he said politely.

Lu Liao Liao, listless, shook his head lazily. “I’m a year or two older; naturally, you go first, young brother.”

Jun Ruochen did not hesitate, taking up a set of constable’s uniform and turning to look intently at Lu Liao Liao.

“You look unenergetic, Brother Lu. Have you lost your fighting spirit after your last defeat?”

Lu Liao Liao tossed a handful of coins casually, tapping his chest. “My fighting spirit lies here. Who says I must show it?”

Old Wang admired Jun Ruochen’s decisiveness and vigor, but felt Lu Liao Liao’s casual indifference made him appear immature and somewhat ridiculous—lowering his estimation subconsciously.

He glanced at Lu Liao Liao with mixed feelings. This youth either liked to put on airs or was supremely confident, dismissing his opponent entirely.

As Jun Ruochen’s close allies, Cheng Changmu and Yin Feng stayed close by, dressed as archers. They began patrolling Dayu Town together.

“Let’s have one of you become a temporary constable, and the other open a small steamed bun shop. That’s all. What exactly is this contest? I can’t figure it out,” Cheng Changmu grumbled, uncomfortable in his lowly archer’s garb.

“Just follow Jun Ruochen’s lead. Cut the chatter,” Yin Feng snapped, annoyed.

“The contest may seem complicated, but it’s simple. It tests how we handle situations in different roles and how we’re viewed by the townsfolk. The ordinary people of Dayu Town will decide the winner. So, you two must behave and avoid mistakes,” Jun Ruochen instructed, tidying his robes and smiling politely as they went door to door.

“Sigh,” Boss Hu sighed while cleaning the steamed bun shop. “Young master, do you think Wang Yuanbao’s lost his mind, making you run a bun shop for ten days? What can you possibly achieve or earn from that?”

“Enough talk. Clean the shop thoroughly. Zhou Lizi will deliver supplies; you start selling buns first thing tomorrow,” Lu Liao Liao ordered, reclining with feet on the counter, eyes narrowed.

Though Dayu Town had barely a hundred households, the crowd suddenly swelled, many dressed finely, nobles and their friends strolling and gawking.

Jun Ruochen frowned, leading Cheng Changmu and Yin Feng to quell several disputes between noble youths and locals. His impartial fairness earned much praise and gratitude.

Noticing some carelessly relieving themselves behind flower beds, Jun Ruochen shook his head in despair, knowing some matters were beyond his control.

Soon, a middle-aged woman slipped on horse dung and fell.

Jun Ruochen hurried over to help her up. She looked pale, trembling slightly—clearly from hunger.

The woman winced as she rubbed her injured spot, glanced at the horse dung on her clothes, and gave Jun Ruochen a grateful but timid nod before hastening away.

“Find out her situation. Get detailed information and report back,” Jun Ruochen murmured to the empty air, his mood heavy.

With Cheng Changmu and Yin Feng, he turned a corner.

“Steamed buns! Delicious and affordable steamed buns! Ten copper coins for three, three copper coins each! Fresh and tasty!”

In front of a small steamed bun shop, steam rose from baskets, filling the air with a tempting aroma. Boss Hu, wearing a sweatband and a white towel over his shoulder, shouted energetically.

Buns generally cost three and a half copper each, but Lu Liao Liao’s shop sold them cheaper. That he actually ran a bun shop puzzled Jun Ruochen.

A burly man dropped three copper coins into the basket, grabbed a bun, blew on it, then devoured it. After savoring it, he seemed unsatisfied.

“Hey! Your buns may look humble, but the taste is great! Here’s twenty copper coins—give me six more!” the burly man bellowed, catching the attention of all nearby.

“All right!” Boss Hu wrapped up six steaming buns and handed them over.

“Wait!” A twelve or thirteen-year-old boy dressed as a scholar shouted, dashing over.

Boss Hu and the burly man stared wide-eyed at the boy.

“Scholar boy, are you hungry and want my buns? No problem, I’ll give you two for free,” the burly man laughed heartily.

“I’m not hungry for your buns. I just don’t want you to be cheated. Think about it: three buns for ten copper coins means you lose two copper coins when you sell six for twenty,” the boy said arrogantly, flicking his sleeves at the clueless Boss Hu.

The burly man scratched his head, confused. “I don’t get it. How do I lose two copper coins?”

The boy pulled out twenty copper coins from Boss Hu’s basket and returned six buns to him.

“Shopkeeper, one bun please,” the boy said, dropping three copper coins into the basket.

Boss Hu scratched his head, handing over a bun blankly.

After six rounds, the boy gave the six buns and two extra copper coins to the dazed burly man, then looked at Boss Hu.

“Shopkeeper, your buns are tasty and cheap, but your pricing call is wrong. It should be three and a half copper coins each, ten copper coins for three.”

Boss Hu pondered long, then shook his head resolutely. “No! This call has been passed down from my ancestors. I want to earn a living, but not at the cost of my conscience.”

Suddenly, a lively child about seven or eight jumped out from behind the boy, laughing loudly, “Look, everyone! The bun shop owner is a fool! Three copper coins for one bun, ten copper coins for three buns!”

Jun Ruochen and his companions watched the growing crowd. Cheng Changmu gasped, “Those two boys are clearly Lu Liao Liao’s disciples, Bai Liangqi and Zheng Hui. And that burly man is Hu Xiaoyun, the young leader of the Qingyun Gang, the most prominent chivalrous group in Chang’an lately. I heard he’s close to Lu Liao Liao, his senior brother. What game are they playing?”

As more people gathered, eager to buy three buns for nine copper coins, teasing the hapless shopkeeper, Jun Ruochen smiled knowingly.

“They’re putting on a show: who’s the fool? Even if your bun shop’s fame spreads and business booms, how much copper can you make in ten days from such a small operation? What great deeds could come of it?”