Chapter 35: Zuojiazhuang

Perhaps because it had rained the night before, the road leading out of the city was slightly damp. As the carriage traveled over the flagstones, it did not produce a crisp, rhythmic clatter, but rather a somewhat slick, rumbling sound.

By the time they cleared the city gates, the skies had cleared. A red sun rose, instantly filling the horizon with ten thousand rays of rosy light and a thousand streaks of auspicious color.

In the carriage where Fan Jin sat, the hand warmer began to radiate heat, which now felt somewhat superfluous. He even felt a thin layer of sweat forming on his back, so he ordered someone to remove the stove.

Finding a moment, Fan Jin struck up a conversation with Monk Hui. "Master Hui, I imagine you haven't been out of the city in quite some time, have you?"

Hearing the question, Monk Hui hurriedly tightened the reins of his horse and offered a slight bow. "Thanks to your generosity, sir, you have taken me into your manor and treated me with great kindness. Every few days, wine and meat are provided; nothing is lacking."

"Unlike the days when I wandered the countryside, rushing about day and night, I have indeed rarely ventured out of the city."

Although Monk Hui held the title of a Buddhist official, a "government position" of sorts, it carried little real weight. Those of similar standing—matchmakers or brokers in government offices—might possess an official veneer, but they were ultimately relegated to the lower rungs of society.

"I wonder, have you returned to your old home to pay a visit?" Fan Jin followed up.

"I will not deceive you, sir; I have indeed gone back to look," Monk Hui mused. "However, that plot of land has since been sold to Squire Zhang, so I have no lingering attachments there."

After a moment of hesitation, Fan Jin changed the subject: "I wonder, Master Hui, do you have any intention of taking a wife in the future?"

As a Buddhist official, he naturally could not marry; he would first have to return to secular life. However, since Monk Hui now followed him, that official position was merely a thing of the past.

There are three forms of unfilial conduct, and having no heir is the greatest. As his personal bodyguard, Fan Jin, in his spare time, often showed concern for him as a means of building loyalty.

"This..." Monk Hui paused, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. A rare flush appeared on his face, though it looked quite unnatural against his dark, weathered skin. If one had to describe it, it was perhaps the "shyness of a rugged man."

Just as Monk Hui was about to explain, Fan Jin raised a hand to interrupt him. "Very well, no need to explain. I understand your heart. Later, I will have someone make inquiries to find you a young, maiden bride from a respectable family..."

Not everyone was like Butcher Hu, who frequented brothels every few days yet remained unwilling to remarry. For a man in feudal society, the desire for a wife, children, and a warm hearth was almost universal.

Furthermore, Monk Hui appeared rough in speech and conduct, with a face that looked older than his years, yet he was actually less than thirty-five. When Fan Jin first learned this, he was truly shocked—he had nearly pulled out a handful of his own whiskers in surprise!

In the past, Monk Hui and Butcher Hu had called each other brothers, and Fan Jin had assumed they were of similar age. He had not expected that Monk Hui simply looked far older than he was, leading even him to a misunderstanding.

The flush on Monk Hui's face deepened. After sputtering for a moment, moved beyond words, he thumped his chest with a loud thud. "Your kindness is immense, sir! Even if I were to die ten thousand times, I could never repay it!"

"But please rest assured, sir: whoever intends to do you harm must first step over my dead body!"

Monk Hui spoke with iron-clad resolve. Fan Jin’s expression tightened slightly, and he replied in a joking tone, "I shall hold you to that!"

Having thoroughly won over Monk Hui, Fan Jin felt quite pleased. Yet, thinking of his rash promise to find him a maiden bride from a respectable family, he felt a sudden headache.

"How much further to Zuo Family Village?" Halfway there, Fan Jin lifted the carriage curtain and poked his head out to ask.

Old Man Fu, sitting on the carriage shafts, turned his head and replied, "About two or three miles more." He paused, as if realizing something, and added, "Are you tired, sir? Shall we rest a while at the woods ahead?"

"No need, pick up the pace," Fan Jin said, thinking of the three villages he had to inspect today, too preoccupied to worry about the bumpy ride.

The roads outside the city were nothing but dirt, turning muddy in places. The horses' hooves and the carriage wheels were caked in a thick layer of sludge, and navigating through it was no easier than wading through a small pond.

Hearing his instructions, Old Man Fu could say no more and ordered the driver to hurry. The driver cracked the whip higher and increased the frequency of its strike, though his eyes held a flicker of pity and reluctance as he glanced at his old beasts of burden.

"Whoa!"

With a few neighs from the horses, Fan Jin gripped the wooden frames of the carriage door and slowly climbed down, nearly vomiting on the spot. The sensation was akin to being tossed inside a tumble dryer; whether his eyes were open or closed, the world spun in dizzying circles.

Thinking of how many more days he would have to spend traveling by carriage, Fan Jin fell into a silent gloom.

At this time, the villagers of Zuo Family Village, under the organization of the village head, had been waiting for a long time beneath the great banyan tree in the center of the village.

The village head, hands clasped behind his back, lectured them repeatedly: "We have a new landlord this year, so everyone must be careful. Do not trip yourselves up!"

The village farmers had heard these repetitive warnings until their ears were calloused, and naturally, they all nodded in agreement.

Finally, someone raised the question everyone cared about most: "Village Head, do you think this new master will raise our rent?"

As soon as these words were spoken, the crowd fell into a state of chaos. It was not that they were making a mountain out of a molehill; the summer harvest had been poor, and the autumn harvest was merely average. Every household was just barely scraping by to avoid starvation. If the rent were raised again, were their families expected to drink the north wind?

"Stop the clamor! Stop the clamor!"

The village head puffed on his pipe a few times, his voice lacking confidence. "Whether the rent is raised or not, won't we know soon enough?"

"What is the use of gathering here to stir up trouble?"

"If the master wants to raise the rent, can you really resist?"

He scanned the crowd, his gaze settling on a few young men who were inciting the others. His face darkened. "Er Gou, Stone, are you trying to incite everyone to cause trouble?"

"Don't say I didn't warn you. Have you forgotten the 'killing-prestige' beatings at the county office last time?!"

At these words, everyone trembled in fear.

"The gates of the yamen face south; if you have reason but no money, do not enter."

It mattered not who you were; when the magistrate took the bench, he would first curse you as a "treacherous villager" and order twenty strokes of the cane, and no one could find fault with it.

Having said this, the village head turned unconsciously. Sharp-eyed as he was, he immediately spotted Fan Jin's party and guessed the identity of the newcomer.

After all, not just anyone was qualified to ride in a carriage. Seeing the middle-aged man in luxurious robes, surrounded by an air of authority, the village head dared not be negligent and hurried forward.

"Greetings, Juren Fan. I am the village head of this place. I have already organized every household in Zuo Family Village to have this year's rent ready!"

"Would you like to have lunch at my humble home first, sir, or...?"