Chapter Ninety-Four: Cooking Meat

“If you wish to be with the young master, then simply accompany him, no need for excessive scheming,” Taor, smiling, stepped forward.

Diao Chan and Xiao Shu rose to greet her. “Greetings, Madam.”

“Has sister not had any sour plum soup yet?”

“I was just about to drink it. To have a cup of sour plum soup from Madam in this summer heat is a blessing for which I am deeply grateful.”

Diao Chan picked up the wooden bowl from the table, gently gathering her glossy black hair. Her delicate beauty was captivating—her enchanting eyes held a gentle warmth, and her fragrant lips parted slightly as she sipped the sour plum juice.

Her slender figure was wrapped in simple cloth, the exposed skin smooth and radiant like precious jade.

A celestial grace, as if a fairy from a painting.

Such beauty entranced even the villagers passing by.

Diao Chan drank the sour plum soup, a rare beverage—the tangy sweetness especially enticing, filling her heart with joy.

“Madam, where has the Master gone?”

“The young master rode out to Fuchun County early this morning. He returned home to pay respects to his parents, and now that the rites are done, he’s gone to the county office. Once everything is arranged, we’ll settle in the Fuchun county office from now on.”

Xiao Shu’s expression brightened; after a sip of sour plum soup, her spirits lifted.

The village chief’s house was built of tiles, a rare structure in the village where most homes were made of stone, earth, and thatch.

This alone proved the chief was not poor.

Inside, an elderly man sat. His skin was dark, his stature short, and his face marked with many spots.

Niu Mu was the village chief’s name. His family had been wealthy merchants in the previous generation, leaving behind considerable fortune. He was not only village chief but also head of the local pavilion.

Back in the days of Emperor Ling of Han, when offices could be bought, his ancestors used their wealth to buy a minor post. Despite the long years of chaos, the position of pavilion chief had never been revoked in their family, passing down through generations, now landing on him.

Before Jiang Wen arrived, Fuchun had no appointed county magistrate. The pavilion chiefs kept to themselves, wielding local power like petty emperors.

But now, with a county magistrate in place, their authority would surely be divided.

Niu Mu brewed a cup of warm water, added a few leaves, and sat in a wooden chair, deep in thought.

“That woman’s beauty is out of this world. I used to think Widow Yang was the prettiest in the village, but now, just seeing her makes me sick.”

“Big brother, why don’t we wait for nightfall and do the deed quietly… Of course, you go first, and I’ll just get a taste.”

“If it weren’t broad daylight, I’d have lost control already!”

A burly young man entered from outside, his face square, his nose broad, his looks unremarkable, while the man beside him was somewhat shifty.

This was Niu Mu’s son, Niu Yi. The companion was his constant shadow, known in the village as Er Gouzi.

“Father, why are you home? Isn’t it the day for transplanting rice seedlings?”

“Son, where have you come from…” Niu Mu sipped his water, asking.

Niu Yi grinned, “Went with Er Gouzi to the river to catch some fish.”

“Where’s the fish?”

“Didn’t catch any, let them get away.”

Niu Yi shot Er Gouzi a look, and Er Gouzi left.

Niu Mu’s face darkened, “Did you go to the county magistrate’s house again?!”

Niu Yi sat on a wooden chair, replying lightly, “Father, you know.”

“I’ve told you countless times, don’t go there!” Niu Mu snapped. “Keep your filthy thoughts to yourself—do you really think you can touch those people?”

“I’m happy, and besides, he’s just a scholar. With all the power you’ve amassed here, what’s to fear from a newcomer county magistrate?” Niu Yi poured himself some water and drank.

Niu Mu raged, “This time, officials from above have come. A new magistrate always makes waves. All those officials want to take action against us gentry. If you cause trouble now, you’ll push your father right into the flames!”

“Father, you’re pavilion chief. How many people are in these ten villages?” Niu Yi laughed unconcernedly. “A new magistrate, with only ten men at his side—if he dies somewhere, it wouldn’t be unusual.”

“Besides, don’t you have that lord backing you?”

“That’s exactly why you’ve grown so reckless!” Niu Mu’s face was gloomy. “To that lord, I’m insignificant—a nobody. If I die, he won’t care!”

“Enough, father,” Niu Yi said with a laugh. “The last magistrate who came to Fuchun didn’t last three days before I dealt with him. That matter was smoothed over by that lord, and nothing came of it.”

Niu Mu grunted, “Even so, caution is best. Don’t stir up trouble this time!”

“Yes, yes,” Niu Yi replied perfunctorily, though only he knew his true intentions.

Niu Yi left the house, Er Gouzi waiting outside. “How’d it go, big brother?”

“Hmph, the old man’s timid, lacking courage. But what’s there to fear? These years, all the profits that lord has taken from Fuchun were handled by the old man. He may not say so, but whenever something happens, that lord steps in to settle it.”

“So, big brother, even if we kill the new magistrate, no one will know?”

“Of course. He’s not the first magistrate of Fuchun!”

Fuchun bordered Xiaoshan to the east and Zhuji to the south, a wealthy region. As the saying goes, live off the mountain if you’re by the mountain, live off the water if you’re by the water—Fuchun had its famed river, the Fuchun River.

During the Yuan dynasty, painter Huang Gongwang took the Fuchun River as his subject, creating the famed “Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains,” one of China’s ten great masterpieces.

Jiang Wen dismounted, arriving at Fuchun County, leading his horse through the city gate. Li Er and Yang Wu, dressed in plain clothes with money bags slung behind them, followed.

“Master, where do we go first?”

Jiang Wen smiled, “Let’s head to the county office. I’ve been in Fuchun for some time, yet haven’t visited the office. If word got out, they’d say I shirk my duties.”

The county office, place of county affairs, naturally included quarters. Most county offices were mansions.

Jiang Wen arrived at Fuchun’s county office. The signboard above the door was covered in cobwebs, the stone steps thick with dust.

The stately stone lions flanking the entrance were cracked.

The gate was shut, sealed with a strip of paper.

Jiang Wen frowned at the gate. “Go tear it down.”

Li Er and Yang Wu stepped forward, ripped off the seal, and pushed open the door.

A courtyard appeared first, then the main hall, with water-and-fire staffs displayed on both sides. The county magistrate’s residence was connected to the office.

The courtyard was overgrown with weeds, scattered stones everywhere, and the hall thick with dust.

It would need a thorough cleaning. Jiang Wen surveyed the office. “Li Er.”

“Here, Master!”

“Take some money from the bag and find some locals to tidy this place up,” Jiang Wen said.

“Yes.” Li Er handed the bag to Yang Wu, took two strings of coins for himself, and went out the gate.

“Who are you, and who gave you permission to tear down the seal?” a well-dressed young man entered, his appearance refined, adorned with fine jade—clearly of considerable worth.

Jiang Wen produced his official seal. The man came forward to inspect it closely, smiled, and bowed. “Ah, the new county magistrate. Greetings.”

“Well dressed and knowledgeable about official seals—may I ask whose son you are?”

“My name is not worthy of the magistrate’s attention.”

Jiang Wen ignored this, asking, “You just reprimanded me for tearing down the seal. I’d like to ask, what happened here?”

“It’s no secret; the townsfolk all know. Since you’re interested, I’ll tell you.”

“A year ago, the court appointed a governor for Wu Commandery, but due to Yan Baihu’s troubles, the county magistrates scattered to save themselves, leaving only the governor. It was troublesome.”

“At that time, the court appointed a magistrate for Fuchun. He soon took office, was honest, refused bribes, did not oppress the people, and quickly won their love.”

“But after three months, the people reported a case to the governor of Wu Commandery.”

“The magistrate was accused of embezzling thirty thousand bushels of army grain!”

“Thirty thousand bushels?” Jiang Wen exclaimed. “A magistrate could embezzle so much, and where could he hide it without being found?”

“As you say, the case had many doubts, but when the governor came to investigate, he didn’t inquire into the process. He simply imprisoned the magistrate, tortured him, and forced him to sign a confession.”

“Not long after, the magistrate was executed, and this office sealed by the governor.”

The young man smiled. “Now that the new magistrate is here, I needn’t watch over the office. Please excuse me.”

Jiang Wen nodded. “Yang Wu, summon the pavilion chiefs from every district and have them bring the land registry to me.”

“Yes!”

In Xiaohe Village, Niu Mu ate his meal, frowning in silence. Niu Yi asked, “Father, what’s troubling you?”

“The magistrate just took office and already wants to inspect our land registry. So the saying about new officials making waves holds true!” Niu Mu ate a slice of lotus root.

“Let him look! We’ve already doctored the records.”

“True, but I worry the magistrate might notice something. If he uncovers it…”

“So what if he does? Even if the magistrate spots something off, he may not dare speak. Father, remember the last magistrate’s fate…”

Niu Mu barked, “Eat your food! I told you not to tie every matter to that lord. If the higher-ups really take notice, it won’t just be us—he could lose his head too!”

“I was just speaking offhand, no need to be so nervous.” Niu Yi set down his bowl and rose to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“Out for a stroll.”

Night fell. The bright moon hung overhead, its light shrouding the landscape in mist. On the river, silvery stars drifted, beautiful beyond compare.

Inside Jiang Wen’s house, hot water was boiled and poured into a wooden tub to cool.

The beauty undressed, her ivory-white, delicate body revealed, the perfect curves enticing.

Outside, Niu Yi and Er Gouzi leapt along the hillside, watching the candlelight cast shadows against the slope, indulging their imaginations as they swallowed nervously.

Diao Chan stretched her fragrant feet, water droplets sliding down her jade legs, her body immersed in warm water, her face flushed, a look of contentment appearing.

Outside, Xiao Shu watched warily. She’d sensed something amiss these days; the villagers she’d seen by the roadside today she’d seen several times before. This was no trivial matter. She knew perfectly well the extent of her mistress’s allure—without leaving Xiangyang, she’d driven noble sons into madness. Now, many villagers had seen her mistress, and she feared someone had set their sights on her.

The eight personal guards stood outside, patrolling the area. As Jiang Wen’s trusted men, it was their duty to protect his wife.

Jiang Wen rode in a carriage, stretching his waist, accompanied only by Yang Wu. Li Er remained in Fuchun to oversee the household and would report back when all was settled.

Now, as county magistrate, his salary was six hundred bushels—about half what he received as military strategist and libationer. Jiang Wen cared little for money, but still chose to be frugal.

It was night, so no lavish dinner. Jiang Wen took a piece of meat from the bamboo basket behind Yang Wu.

“It’s been so long since I cooked for myself.” Jiang Wen carried the meat to the kitchen.

After living here for over ten years, he could navigate with his eyes closed.

The meat was pork. In ancient times, pork was considered lowly—three pounds of it cost less than a bushel of rice.

“The wealthy won’t eat, the poor don’t know how to cook it,” said the famous foodie Su Dongpo.

Pork’s strong flavor and excess fat made it seem greasy, with little appeal.

In the kitchen, he boiled water, then added the pork to simmer, took a seat on a wooden chair, and watched the fire as he added more wood.

The fire was strong. When the time was right, Jiang Wen took the pork from the water, chopped green onions, ginger, and sugar, and poured over soy sauce.

He cut the pork into ten pieces—the bright red meat, after boiling, was somewhat cooked.

He placed it in a basin, rinsed off the scum, then picked up an earthen pot, ladled cold water from the vat, and poured it in, adding the pork and more water just to cover.

Then the chopped green onions, ginger, star anise… He set the pot on the fire, adjusted the wood to keep the flame moderate.

When the fire grew, he removed more wood for a slow simmer, letting every drop of juice infuse the pork.

After half an hour, when the meat was tender, he added soy sauce. There was no wine to remove the smell, which disappointed Jiang Wen, but the aroma of star anise was enough.

He returned the pot to the fire, simmered until the meat was soft, and then tossed in a few pieces of sugar.