0010. The Pawnshop Sought Amid the Crowd

West Garden of the Luoxue Courtyard.

The music from the zither in the room came to an abrupt halt. The middle-aged woman said, "They have already left."

Luoxue asked, "He didn't mention wanting to see me?"

"No," replied the woman. "He knows well enough that he is just a servant."

Luoxue shook her head. "The Qiuxiang who came with him is not at all ordinary."

The woman explained, "She is a guest invited by Nangong Mo. Zheng Fanren is merely Nangong Mo’s servant."

Then, with a hint of indignation, she added, "The maid beside him asked him to write a piece as payment for the room before leaving. Does she not realize how many people would spend fortunes and still not gain entry?"

Luoxue wondered, "What did Zheng Fanren say?"

The middle-aged woman finally replied calmly, "He showed some self-awareness and said nothing."

"Are there any of his calligraphy pieces left in the room?"

"I didn’t see any."

Luoxue pondered for a moment and said softly, "Now that Young Master Nangong no longer shelters him, life will not be easy. You should take some money and buy a piece of calligraphy from him."

The zither sounded again. Clouds clustered on the horizon; it was an overcast day.

Their moods were rather pleasant. The mild weather seemed to set "Winter Plum" chattering nonstop.

They had just stepped out of the Blossom Pavilion when they heard the middle-aged woman call out from behind, "Wait a moment, you two!"

"Winter Plum" turned and smiled. "Aunt Xiao, is there something you need?"

Only now did Zheng Fanren learn that the woman was called Aunt Xiao. He did not reply, merely nodded in acknowledgment.

The woman did not particularly care for this seemingly amiable yet proud young man. Her expression remained unchanged as she said coolly, "Miss Luoxue heard your calligraphy was excellent and sent me to purchase a piece."

Zheng Fanren’s face darkened, his tone cold. "Calligraphy is not something that can be spoken of lightly, nor do I intend to make a living selling it. Farewell."

…

Excluded from the pleasure house, the matter ended there. Walking through the lively yet cool streets, Zheng Fanren’s mood improved. The turmoil over his expulsion was already forgotten. He let himself become a young scholar wandering through ancient cities, and a thrill sparked in his heart.

"Winter Plum," though she had never left home, possessed remarkable knowledge. She understood well the architectural styles of various buildings, the characteristics of city streets, and had even studied urban layouts. Zheng Fanren mused, "If it came to urban ambushes, she would make an excellent strategist."

So he asked casually, "Do you like military strategy?"

A bright excitement flashed in the girl’s eyes; she nodded vigorously but said nothing of strategy, returning quickly to the matter at hand. "Where are we going?"

"To the pawnshop! We need to pawn that Wanxuan artifact. Isn’t it tiring to carry it?"

"It’s not really tiring, but if we don’t pawn it, we won’t have any money, right?"

"Must you be so straightforward?"

"My teachers always told me—one must be honest!"

"Now I am your teacher!"

"Very well! As for this, you don’t need to teach me."

Zheng Fanren pretended to pat her head, but she had already run off laughing.

There were many pawnshops in Luo City, some quite grand. Which one would not accept a Xuan artifact?

Yet Zheng Fanren did not enter any of them, ignoring the girl’s confusion.

Passing the fourth pawnshop, he finally stopped, looking up at the bright signboard, murmuring to himself, "So obvious, how could I have forgotten!"

…

Wan Family Pawn—such a grand sign! Could it mean that the Wan Family could accept anything from under heaven? Zheng Fanren knew this was only the surface meaning; there was a simpler truth—this was a Wan Family enterprise.

Inside, the world seemed to quiet instantly. The clamour of the street faded into distant silence. Then, footsteps sounded from upstairs.

Unlike the pawnshops in Zheng Fanren’s memory, there were no high counters, not even a desk—just a series of seats.

A young attendant approached, quietly asking what service was needed. Zheng Fanren said nothing, merely gestured to a seat in the corner.

"Winter Plum," dressed as a maid, obediently followed. Two servings of hard nuts were already set out. Zheng Fanren peeled one and handed it to the girl, waiting for her to slowly eat it before signaling her to set down the Wanxuan artifact.

Soon, the bundle was placed on the table. Zheng Fanren said nothing, merely tapped it twice, then pushed it two inches toward the attendant.

The young man understood, turning to head upstairs.

Shortly, a bearded middle-aged man approached. Zheng Fanren waved him silent, motioning for him to open the bundle.

Business people are known for their patience; the bundle was wrapped in seven layers of cloth, but the man was unhurried, handling it with care. When the Wanxuan artifact was finally revealed, shock crossed his face—not because of the artifact itself, but because of the tiny markings along its edge. Outsiders would not recognize them, but he did—they were the signature of Wan Family craftsmanship.

He quickly regained his composure and smiled, "Two hundred and twenty taels."

Zheng Fanren knew that a Xuan artifact without mystical sense was always a dead pawn, but it should not be worth so much. He had no objection, simply nodded.

The man continued, "Pawnshop rules: anything over one hundred and fifty taels requires an address. May I trouble you, esteemed guest—"

Zheng Fanren smiled, "Zheng Family, Moxi."

Moxi—everyone in Luo City knew it was a vacant area between West Mountain and the city proper, with no residences at all. The man looked at Zheng Fanren with confusion.

The youth feigned embarrassment. "A humble abode, just built."

Leaving the pawnshop, the clouds overhead grew darker. Zheng Fanren sighed inwardly, "It will probably rain tonight. I hope Zhou Ziwen’s protection is adequate."

…

Luoxue’s courtyard had no further business with Zheng Fanren, yet single women of a certain age could not always restrain their tempers—especially those like Aunt Xiao, a middle-aged woman with some beauty.

She could not fathom why that wretched servant dared to show attitude in her presence. Miss Luoxue wished to buy his calligraphy; it was his good fortune!

When a woman becomes fierce, her strength is boundless.

After much effort, she finally dug out a not-too-blurred calligraphy piece from Zheng Fanren’s wastebasket. All the others were either blotches of ink or wild, illegible strokes.

She presented the piece to Miss Luoxue, for Luoxue was skilled in calligraphy—Luoxue, whose love for words verged on obsession.

Miss Luoxue did not examine it closely, asking, "So blurry?"

Still somewhat angry, the woman recounted the process of trying to buy the calligraphy without missing a single detail.

Unexpectedly, Miss Luoxue murmured, "Calligraphy cannot be spoken of lightly. There’s truth in that."

Then she scrutinized the blurry characters: "Heaven has given me talent; it must be of use."

In the corner, the signature could barely be made out: "Master Taibai."

After a long pause, she finally returned to herself, no longer mindful of her composure. She stood up and shouted, "You’re a fool!"

The woman’s hands and feet trembled involuntarily, once again witnessing Luoxue’s fiery temper.