The commotion outside quickly drew Xu Maoxiu and the others out.
“Have these scholars drunk too much and gone wild?” Xu Bangchui said, glaring.
Three scholars were involved—one was pointing at the plaque, another was gesturing in the air, and the third was pacing in circles beneath the plaque.
The noise was so great that a few travelers who had hesitated on the road, considering whether to stop, immediately urged their horses forward at a gallop.
“This is ruining our business. I’ll make them sober up.” Xu Bangchui said, rolling up his sleeves.
Xu Maoxiu gave him a stern look.
“Go inside and help Sun Cai grind the beans,” he said.
He then persuaded the other brothers, and soon only Xu Maoxiu and the old manager remained in front of the door, watching the three scholars, who appeared very agitated.
“Sir, who wrote these characters?” One of the scholars snapped out of his daze and asked the old manager.
Characters?
Both the old manager and Xu Maoxiu turned their attention to the plaque.
“It was given by the boss,” the old manager said, looking over at Xu Maoxiu.
The three scholars, upon hearing this, turned their gaze to Xu Maoxiu. They saw a man in his mid-twenties, dressed in a simple blue robe, exuding the refined air of a scholar.
However, he was tall, with prominent joints and a rugged, heroic demeanor.
“Did you write these characters?” the three asked in surprise.
The five characters of Qieting Temple were renowned throughout the capital, with countless people visiting every day to admire them. It had even become synonymous with the temple itself, yet the author had never reappeared, which only added to its mysterious aura.
Looking at the man before them—clean, well-groomed, and proper—it seemed entirely fitting to believe that he could be the author of those five characters.
“This?” Xu Maoxiu looked up at the characters and then shook his head. “No.”
“No?”
The three scholars exchanged glances.
“What’s wrong with these characters?” Xu Maoxiu asked, confused.
“These characters are too good!” The three of them said in unison, stepping forward and surrounding Xu Maoxiu, their voices filled with eager excitement. “Do you know who the author is? Could we possibly meet them?”
These characters are that good? Xu Maoxiu couldn’t help but take another glance at the plaque.
“I’m sorry, I cannot say,” he said with an apologetic tone. “As for whether you can meet the author, I will need to ask first.”
So he does know the author! The three scholars were overjoyed.
“Good, good! Then please, could you kindly ask? We… we would be honored to meet them,” they said in unison, bowing.
Xu Maoxiu quickly returned the bow.
“Quick, quick, let’s go tell them!” The three didn’t wait to say more and hurriedly mounted their horses. Then, as if remembering something, one of them pulled out a few coins and handed them to the old manager. “How could we take advantage of this?”
Without waiting for the old manager to respond, they rushed off in haste.
The old manager looked at the coins in his hand, a bit speechless.
“It seems that even without the money, they would still surely spread the word about our shop,” Xu Maoxiu said with a smile.
The old manager turned back to look at the plaque.
“These characters… they’re even more effective than money?” he said, surprised.
Cheng Jiao-niang set down the brush in her hand, while beside her, Chen Shi’ba-niang added two more characters before putting down her brush as well.
“Miss, how do you think I did this time?” Chen Shi’ba-niang asked, as she brought the paper in front of her.
Cheng Jiao-niang turned to glance at it.
“It’s only similar in shape,” she said.
Chen Shi’ba-niang smiled and nodded.
“Well, that’s still progress. It’s definitely much better than what I used to write,” she said, glancing at the paper in front of Cheng Jiao-niang with a bit of longing. “When will I be able to write as well as you?”
“Practice more,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
The maid outside, hearing the conversation inside, knew that the writing had finished.
She brought in tea and snacks, and upon hearing the conversation, couldn’t help but nod in agreement.
The mistress’s hands were already covered in calluses—this was due to the constant grinding and writing at the desk during times when she couldn’t hold a brush.
“Now, aside from the lessons the master assigns, women’s handiwork, and everything else, I also add an extra hour of writing every night,” Chen Shi’ba-niang said, looking at Cheng Jiao-niang with a bit of joy. “If I practice more, will I be able to write just as well as you?”
Cheng Jiao-niang picked up her water bowl and paused for a moment.
“Not necessarily,” she replied.
Chen Shi’ba-niang was stunned.
“Sometimes, it’s a matter of talent,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, lifting her sleeve slightly to cover her drinking.
Chen Shi’ba-niang stared at her for a moment, then smiled.
“Miss, you’re truly an honest person,” she laughed.
Cheng Jiao-niang didn’t say anything, and Chen Shi’ba-niang, knowing that she wasn’t one for much conversation, picked up the tea herself, then suddenly thought of something.
“On the 20th of March, there’s the great Dharma assembly at Puxiu Temple. I’ve already reserved a spot. Please join me. They’re giving a lecture on Buddhist scriptures, which I don’t understand, but I remember you mentioning that the daily tea isn’t to your taste. The great Dharma master at Puxiu Temple brews an excellent Zen tea, so I thought you might like to try it,” she said with a smile.
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded.
“Alright, thank you,” she said.
As long as you speak honestly and straightforwardly, this lady always answers just as frankly. Chen Shi’ba-niang smiled and stood up to take her leave.
“These snacks, please bring them to Lady Dan,” the maid said with a smile, handing over a food box. “They’re not overly sweet, so you needn’t worry about her eating too many.”
Chen Shi’ba-niang took the box with thanks, noticing how exquisitely crafted it was. On it, there was a carved seal.
“Tai Ping,” she murmured softly, reaching out to touch it. This was Cheng Jiao-niang’s handwriting, which she had become familiar with. “A good omen.”
After seeing off Chen Shi’ba-niang, the maid couldn’t hide her excitement.
“Shi’ba-niang mentioned it first, otherwise, I would have told you too. The tea brewed by Master Minhai is especially good—so rare that it’s hard to find a single bowl. Many people offer gifts at the Buddha’s altar just to ask for a bowl of tea from him,” she said.
After seeing off Shi’ba-niang, the maid stood in the corridor, watching the flowers and plants in the yard while speaking with Jin Ge’er.
Jin Ge’er gritted his teeth as he listened.
“Is a bowl of tea really that good?” he asked.
“Ban Qin.”
Inside the room, Cheng Jiao-niang suddenly called out.
Two voices responded from the yard, but soon, Ban Qin hurried back under the corridor, lowering her head to wipe the floor.
“Miss, is there anything you need?” the maid asked.
“We’re going to the shop,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
The maid responded with a yes.
“I’ll go rent a cart,” Jin Ge’er called out, turning to run outside. Just as he opened the door, he saw someone standing there.
Jin Ge’er was startled, and the person outside was equally shocked.
“Jiao Jiao,” Master Zhou called out, pretending to clear his throat in an imposing manner as he tried to step forward.
Jin Ge’er quickly blocked the door, causing Master Zhou to stop in his tracks.
“What’s the matter?” the maid asked.
“What are you standing at the door for? Let’s go inside and speak,” Master Zhou said.
“Unfortunately, Miss is just about to go out,” the maid replied, urging Jin Ge’er, “Go rent the Zhang family’s carriage.”
Jin Ge’er responded with a yes and squeezed past Master Zhou to run off.
Master Zhou was shoved back a couple of steps, and Cheng Jiao-niang stepped out.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
The maid looked at him, her expression somewhere between a smile and a sneer.
“Just going out for a walk, to clear her mind,” she replied.
Master Zhou let out a dry, awkward laugh in his heart.
“A walk is good, yes, that’s fine,” he said, adjusting himself. “Jiao Jiao, the craftsmen we hired just came to look at the house and said it’s not a good time for repairs, so they’ve postponed it to the winter. That’s why your aunt asked me to come and fetch you to return.”
The maid stared at him, and Cheng Jiao-niang also turned her gaze to Master Zhou.
“Master, are you joking?” the maid asked.
Master Zhou realized how ridiculous the situation seemed.
He had insisted on bringing her back, then sent her away, and now he was fetching her again—it made his entire family look like fools, caught in a ridiculous mess.
How could this happen?
Why was it that every time something involved this lady, everything went wrong, tangled up, and turned into such a hassle?
