"Don't talk about this matter outside," Zhao Ger instructed him. Fang Zichen was a man who valued face greatly. If this matter got out, he would probably be mortified. While he wouldn't hit anyone, if he found out Zhao Ger had spread it, he was afraid he would throw a fit.
Zhou Ger said, "Don't worry, I won't breathe a word of it to anyone." He was a tight-lipped person who disliked gossiping about others' affairs. Even when he did speak, it was about other people, how could he possibly talk about his own?
The pork had been bought back, and Old Man Li had already cut it into chunks for him. However, there were still some hairs left on the pork skin that hadn't been thoroughly scraped clean. These pig bristles weren't as easy to pluck as chicken or duck feathers, and it wasn't convenient to deal with them inside by the stove. So, Zhao Ger lit a fire in the yard to singe the hairs off the pork.
The singed pork skin turned black. Zhou Ger brought a knife and some water to help him scrape it clean.
After the pork skin was cleaned, the meat was rubbed with salt and placed in a vat to marinate for two days. Once sufficiently seasoned, the pork would be hung above the kitchen stove, where it would be smoked by the rising fumes from daily cooking and water-boiling.
All these tasks kept them occupied for nearly half the afternoon.
____
There wasn't anything that absolutely had to be done by a specific time, but when the time came to finish work, Fang Zichen had to leave.
He passed through the city gate and turned onto the dirt road leading to Xiaohe Village. Before he had gone far, he spotted several unfamiliar men seated on a large rock ahead.
They seemed to be resting, and they were also unfamiliar. One had a scar running diagonally from his left eyebrow all the way down to his cheek, seemingly from a sharp blade, which gave him a distinctly menacing, bandit-like aura. They were holding clubs and didn't look like good people at all.
Although Fang Zichen didn't know everyone in Xiaohe Village yet, he was familiar with the typical appearance of the local men. The villagers, who toiled daily in the fields, had sun-darkened skin and fingernails often ingrained with soil. These men, however, had a pallid, bluish complexion, yellowish whites of their eyes, and dark circles under their eyes, as if they were given over to excessive debauchery. Their features were barely passable, and they clearly did not have the look of hardworking country folk.
Previously, Zhao Ger had told him about a man from Xiaorong Village who gambled in town, lost over thirty taels, couldn't pay up, so the gambling den sent people to his door to 'collect the debt'.
If these men weren't sent by a gambling den, then they were probably here for a personal grudge.
This road led only to Xiaohe Village and the neighboring Xiaorong Village. Fang Zichen guessed that some unfortunate soul was about to face serious trouble, and he wondered if the man's home and furnishings had already been wrecked.
Ah... They say one must never touch gambling, prostitution, or drugs. Unless you have the skills of a Gambling God, it's best to steer clear. If you get involved, the light consequence is losing your family fortune, the heavy consequence is family ruin and death.
Fang Zichen mourned for that poor soul for half a second.
However, when these men saw him, they picked up the clubs at their feet, stood up, and stared straight at him.
At first, Fang Zichen didn't pay it much mind. A handsome guy like him was bound to attract attention. But when they surrounded him as he got closer, he finally realized.
Oh... that poor soul turns out to be me!
This setup was clearly looking for trouble. Fang Zichen stopped walking, his brow furrowing slightly. "Who are you?"
The scar-faced man rested his wooden club on his shoulder, his eyes sweeping over Fang Zichen from head to toe as he spoke: "Are you called Fang Zichen?"
Fang Zichen shook his head, putting on an innocent face: "No, I'm not!"
"Big Brother, he says he's not called Fang Zichen. Did we get the wrong guy?"
"That can't be right!"
The men spoke as if Fang Zichen were air, inadvertently revealing their purpose. "Judging by Ma Laosan's description, it should be him."
Fang Zichen took a deep breath.
So, it was Ma Laosan trying to pick a fight with him, hiring people to teach him a lesson.
He was just thinking, he hadn't offended anyone recently and had been getting along with everyone everywhere.
This Ma Laosan was really vile. Apart from the previous incident, he hadn't provoked him in the last two months, yet Ma Laosan insisted on making things difficult for him.
It seemed his previous beating hadn't been severe enough!
These men were low-level, bottom-rung thugs from town. Knowing Fang Zichen was a tough fighter, Ma Laosan spent silver to hire six men to teach him a lesson.
They didn't want his life—country folk, no matter how bad, rarely dared to cross the line into murder—they just wanted to maim him, to leave him disfigured or missing an arm or a leg.
Not everyone was qualified to take the imperial examinations.
In Daxia, generally speaking, prostitutes and their descendants, merchants and their descendants, matchmakers and their descendants, etc., these professions were considered the lowest class. Therefore, these people were not qualified to take the imperial examinations.
Apart from people in these professions being ineligible, those with physical disabilities were also ineligible. This exclusion applied to people who were deaf, disfigured, lame, or hunchbacked, among other conditions.
Ma Laosan had provided them with a detailed description of Fang Zichen's appearance and build. He had also informed them that Fang Zichen worked at Zuixiao Restaurant, including his specific start and end times.
That day was not a market day. Even on market days, most villagers would go to town early and return by midday.
Given the late hour, the only person likely to be traveling from town back to the village was Fang Zichen, returning after his evening shift.
Fang Zichen was tall, with outstanding looks, matching Ma Laosan's description perfectly.
"But he says he's not Fang Zichen!"
"You idiot, if he says he isn't, does that mean he isn't? We're here to beat him up, even if he really is, would he admit it right now?" Just after saying this, the man turned his head and asked Fang Zichen: "Are you Fang Zichen or not?"
This guy's brain might be fried.
Fang Zichen replied, "... I don't change my name, and I don't change my surname. I'm Chen Zifang."
"Big Brother, he says his name is Chen Zifang! We must have the wrong guy."
Big Brother: "..."
Fang Zichen:"..."
He couldn't help but laugh, immediately drawing a sharp rebuke from the other side.
"You, don't laugh! We are in the process of intercepting you. You have to show us some respect, otherwise... otherwise we'll hit you, with clubs this thick, you..."
Before he could finish, Fang Zichen first took out his money pouch.
"What do you think you're doing?" The leader was very alert, watching Fang Zichen warily. "Someone paid three hundred coins for one of your legs."
"How much?" Fang Zichen asked.
"Three hundred coins."
Fang Zichen pulled out half a piece of broken silver. "I'll double it. This is six hundred coins. How about you go break Ma Laosan's leg for me instead?"
The leader's eyes lit up. He glanced at Fang Zichen and said, "You think six hundred coins is enough to send us away? You're treating us like beggars!"
Fang Zichen laughed. "What, you think six hundred coins is too little?"
"Today, I just want one of your legs," the leader said.
"Three hundred coins for one of my legs?" Fang Zichen said. "You're looking down on me! Six hundred coins, will you do it or not?"
The leader: "It's not about the money. In our line of work, we value loyalty above all."
Fang Zichen lost his patience. These guys' eyes had lit up at the sight of the silver, yet they claimed it wasn't about the money. What a joke.
They just wanted to drive a harder bargain.
Fang Zichen lost his patience. He wasn't afraid of a fight. Even though they outnumbered him, they looked scrawny and probably couldn't withstand a single punch from him.
Fang Zichen grabbed the leader and lifted him into the air.
The leader's face turned red with anger. He struggled, but Fang Zichen's strength was terrifying, and he couldn't break free. His lackeys raised their clubs to strike, but Fang Zichen's cold, bleak voice rang out first: "Do you know Qin Dabiao? Do you know Xiong Shuai? ..."
He listed several names. These men were the leaders of the gangs on the East, West, South, and North streets, famous figures in the 'thug world'.
Hearing this, the leader's pupils constricted slightly, and his legs trembled. "You... you really know them?"
Seeing him struggle fiercely, Fang Zichen simply let go. "Don't believe me? Try it. If you take my leg today, I can have someone take your life tomorrow."
The leader: "..."
Whether he really knew them or not, just based on the other's strength...
"Aiyo, brother, look at what you're saying! That was just a joke earlier. You want Ma Laosan's leg broken? This brother will handle it for you." The leader became very eager. "Come, come, have a seat. You must be tired from walking so long! Do you want me to massage your legs for you?"
____
The next evening, a major incident happened in the village.
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