Guaizai's eyes turned red on the spot. He didn't even want his pancake anymore. When he saw the carriage stop in front of a pastry shop, he charged straight over.
"You pay for Guaizai's chickies!"
The driver shoved him aside. "Who do you think you are? How dare you block my young master's way."
A man stepped down from the carriage—about twenty-five or twenty-six years old.
He glanced at Guaizai—just a village boy in a coarse brown shirt and a tiny straw hat—and gave a slight frown. "What's the matter?"
The driver didn't know either. Guaizai pointed back. "You ran over Guaizai's chickies! Pay up!"
The man thought to himself, What a trivial little thing.
Probably just some village kid. But it's only a chicken—does he really need to kick up such a fuss over it?
The chicken did indeed look like it had been run over by the wheel. The man didn't try to dodge responsibility, though there was a flicker of contempt in his eyes.
"Lao Huang, give him some silver and send him off."
"Yes, Young Master." Lao Huang pulled out some copper coins and handed them to Guaizai. Guaizai was about to take them when he heard Fang Zichen clear his throat. He immediately pulled his hand back.
Fang Zichen and the others had come over at some point. Looking at Lao Huang, Fang Zichen gave a smile that wasn't quite a smile. "Six copper coins? Are you trying to fob off a beggar?"
His voice was light and clear. The man had been about to step into the shop, but now he turned back around.
And his eyes lit up.
When did Anping County ever produce someone like this?
The man's gaze practically burned into Fang Zichen's face. This man was illiterate and uneducated, so he racked his brain for a long time but could only come up with the word handsome. Yet that face, that whole bearing—handsome somehow felt far too thin a word.
People always tend to be more patient with someone good-looking. Besides, with a face like that, he was clearly a young master from a well-off family, dressed in expensive clothes. It was better not to make an enemy out of him if it could be helped.
"Young Master, six copper coins is not a small amount."
These fist-sized chicks only sold for three copper coins each in town.
Fang Zichen looked at him. "My chickens aren't ordinary chickens."
"..."
"These are two little roosters—the hope of all the hens in our entire village. Now that you've crushed them, all our village hens are widowed. Without roosters, their eggs can't hatch into chicks. Those chicks, when they grow up, could very well become hens. Those hens will keep laying eggs. Those eggs will keep hatching into more chickens. And those chickens will keep laying eggs..."
On and on, without end.
With the roosters dead now, the losses were catastrophic!
Fang Zichen turned to Lao Huang. "Old man, nice driving! You ran right over the hope of every hen in my village—squashed them so flat their guts aren't even visible."
Zhao Ger's eyes went wide as saucers. Zhao Ger's eyes flew wide open. He stared at Fang Zichen, completely taken aback.
This sounds so familiar!
Where have I heard this before? Oh, right—back in Daoxiang Village. That Old Master Qiu had pulled the exact same kind of "accounting" trick.
Zhao Ger studied the man more carefully and suddenly realized—this man looked a bit like Old Master Qiu.
That's more like it! I knew my husband, greedy as he could be sometimes, wasn't usually this shameless.
Fang Zichen smiled at the man's look of disbelief. "So—unless you pay me eighty or a hundred taels today, you're not leaving."
Qiu's second son wiped his face with his hand, swallowing the fury surging in his chest, and gritted his teeth. "Young Master, you don't strike me as someone from a destitute family. Have you gone mad for money?"
"Exactly," Lao Huang chimed in. "In all of Anping County, no one's ever dared to try and take advantage of the Qiu family."
"Well, what a coincidence." Fang Zichen planted his hands on his hips. "In all of Da Xia, no one's ever dared to try and take advantage of me either."
That was quite the boast.
But Qiu's second son couldn't be sure—after all, this man didn't look like he came from some small, humble household. He forced himself to hold back. "Then, sir, how about I have Lao Huang go buy you two new ones? Would that be acceptable?"
Fang Zichen shook his head. "No. Our village hens have set their hearts on these roosters. They don't like any others."
"Then I'll pay you two taels of silver?"
"I told you—without eighty or a hundred taels, you're not leaving. Two taels? You're dreaming."
Qiu's second son had exhausted his patience. He wasn't someone to be pushed around either. His whole face twisted, his rage flaring hotter, and his voice turned cold. "Young Master, don't go too far."
Fang Zichen smiled. "And what if I do?"
Qiu's second son shot him a venomous glare, apparently unwilling to argue any further with this shameless ruffian. He turned to step into the pastry shop. Fang Zichen waved a hand behind him, and two soldiers from the Qin family ran over, arms spread wide, blocking Qiu's second son's path.
The Qin family soldiers didn't look like ordinary guards. Qiu's second son paused, truly not wanting to make enemies. He turned back and raised his offer again—but Fang Zichen still refused. Qiu's second son clenched his fists, nearly overwhelmed with fury. He didn't want to offend anyone, but he certainly didn't want to pay a hundred taels either.
The Qiu family was considered well-off in Anping County, but since the whole county was poor, their wealth didn't amount to much. A hundred taels was no small sum.
His eyes burned red as he stared at Fang Zichen. Then he turned to Lao Huang—who had been cowering silently ever since the Qin soldiers showed up—and ordered: "Lao Huang, go report this to the authorities."
Zhang Jiahui had been serving in Anping County for over a decade. When the previous prefect was investigated, the trail led to the dismissal of many county magistrates below him. Hezhou underwent a near-total purge. Zhang Jiahui survived that "bloody storm" because he was an upright and incorruptible official. Moreover, his family still had some distant ties to the Qiu family—though the connection was thin—but since he stood on solid ground, he had nothing to fear.
Qiu's second son puffed up with confidence, even straightening his back. Even if the other party had powerful backing, it didn't matter much. He wore an expression that clearly said, If you know what's good for you, you'd better scram. But to his surprise, the other man showed no fear at all. In fact, the moment the words left his mouth, Fang Zichen and Guaizai burst into cackling laughter.
Report him to the authorities?
He was the big shot of Hezhou. Would reporting him do any good?
Of course not.
Who would dare touch him?
"Look at you, all high and mighty," Fang Zichen said. "Go ahead and report me. Let's see who dares lay a finger on me."
"Quite the bold words from you, Young Master!"
"Not at all, not at all."
Four yamen runners jogged over from the end of the street. The onlookers quickly parted to make way. When the runners caught sight of Fang Zichen, they froze.
Fang Zichen had been to the county yamen before to look up records, and his appearance was hard to forget. The runners recognized him immediately.
Flustered, they hurriedly bowed in greeting.
When Qiu's second son saw the runners cup their fists and bow to Fang Zichen, addressing him as "Lord," his heart nearly stopped. He almost fainted on the spot.
Word of the commotion had also reached the Qiu family. Old Master Qiu rushed over in a panic. When he saw Fang Zichen and heard Lao Huang explain the whole affair, Fang Zichen's earlier words suddenly flashed through his mind:
—You just wait.
Fang Zichen hadn't made a move against him before, and Old Master Qiu had assumed the man had simply forgotten—that he hadn't given the matter a second thought.
But as it turned out, the man hadn't forgotten in the slightest—Old Master Qiu had simply been dreaming too sweetly.
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