Chapter Fifty-Six: The Youth Like the Wind Suffers a Cruel Ordeal

Unlike Master Huang, who relied on the mountain bandits of Broken Cliff Mountain to establish himself in the county office, Chief Constable Yuan Mei had a background of his own. Yuan Mei’s only concern was that his prior correspondence with Fang Dayong might fall into the hands of Lord Dangyang’s men. Though everyone was involved in communicating with the bandits in one way or another, such dealings could never see the light of day. If those letters were to end up with someone intent on using them, it would be enough to doom a lowly chief constable like himself to utter ruin!

While storms brewed within the county, Zhao Hengyi, gazing at the profusion of blooming flowers in myriad colors along the southern slopes of Great Green Mountain, had already resolved to somewhat satisfy Steward Song’s urgent need for a large sum of money. Having lived two lifetimes, Zhao Hengyi was never short of ways to earn money; what he needed to discern was which methods could be used and which could not. The mineral salt hidden in the mountain was something he could not touch for now. He had a kiln and could make glass, but that too was not to be meddled with at the moment. There were several other such methods, all of which could only wait quietly in his mind for a more opportune future.

But the abundance of wildflowers covering Great Green Mountain was a resource he could make use of immediately—a perfect means to quickly accumulate silver and grain! It was not only Steward Song who was short on funds; Zhao Hengyi himself, with his ever-expanding enterprises, was beginning to feel the pinch. After sending people to gather vast quantities of fresh flowers, Zhao Hengyi, accompanied by the six little sisters and Wang Erhu, slipped into a secluded courtyard.

Wang Erhu, as energetic as the wind, wore a look of utter misery. He had no interest whatsoever in picking flowers or entertaining children. Yet when he saw the several large jars of wine lined up in the courtyard, his face broke into a delighted grin! Still, a new question arose in his mind: if the master wished to drink and make merry, why bring along six young girls?

When he saw Zhao Hengyi solemnly bolt the courtyard gate and then look at the innocent, adorable little sisters, Wang Erhu felt a pang of conscience. Should he climb over the wall and warn Sister Xiao Yu just in case?

“What’s with that look on your face, boy? Don’t just stand there—you're here to do the heavy lifting!” Zhao Hengyi, holding a large flower basket, snapped at Wang Erhu, his nose irritated from the excess pollen, sneezing all the way, and now thoroughly annoyed.

Wang Erhu replied quietly and decided to observe a little longer. After all, the master couldn’t beat him in a fight; if he really tried to do anything wicked, he could always step in.

The courtyard had already been equipped with a peculiar apparatus made to Zhao Hengyi’s specifications by Zhang Daniu. Jar after jar of fine wine was poured into a large cauldron, which was topped with an odd lid and connected to many iron pipes whose use Wang Erhu could not fathom. Under Zhao Hengyi’s deft hands, the contraption came together in a remarkable way.

After a good deal of tinkering, Wang Erhu, sweating profusely, finally finished assembling the strange device. The master showed not a hint of sympathy for his exhaustion, ignoring the sweat running down Wang Erhu’s brow and instead urging him to build up a roaring fire beneath the newly built earthen stove.

Sitting nearby, surrounded by the six little sisters and telling stories with endless patience, Zhao Hengyi seemed completely at ease, leaving Wang Erhu utterly perplexed. Mixing the best wine together and boiling it in a cauldron—what on earth was the master up to? Even if one had money to burn, this was ridiculous!

Still, the stories the master told were captivating.

As the fire blazed ever higher, the mouth of the odd pipe slowly began to drip a clear, crystalline liquid into a large wine jar set underneath. Wang Erhu, only half understanding, was consumed by curiosity, but the master ignored him, devoting himself entirely to amusing his six little sisters.

They were busy all morning. When noon came, the girls chattered as they pulled out the pastries they’d brought in their baskets, and Wang Erhu received a piece of osmanthus cake. It was far from filling, but the taste was truly sweet and fragrant.

After telling stories all morning, the master finally stood up once he’d had his tea and cake. He led the six little sisters to crush all the flowers they’d gathered, adding in various unknown ingredients, and in the end, produced a pile of mush.

The master seemed very satisfied. After another round of mysterious operations that Wang Erhu couldn’t follow, he managed to extract a half bowl of sticky, oil-like liquid.

What happened next made Wang Erhu deeply regret being pressed into service that morning.

The master mixed the distilled wine with the oil extracted from the flower petals, poured it all into a jar half as tall as a man, sealed it tightly, and then ordered Wang Erhu to shake it with all his might!

Three thousand six hundred times!

That was the master’s command. Poor Wang Erhu had to embrace the heavy jar and shake it nonstop three thousand six hundred times! Heaven help him—he could barely count past a hundred, and if left to his own devices, would be shaking that jar till the end of time.

Fortunately, the master soon realized he couldn’t count, and together with the six little sisters, taunted him before counting the shakes himself.

Wang Erhu, feeling utterly lost, suspected the master’s nature—surely, unless he shook it five thousand times, the master wouldn’t let him stop!

By the time Zhao Hengyi finally called for a halt, the once spry and lively Wang Erhu had collapsed, utterly spent. Once a handsome youth known throughout Elm Bay, he now lay sprawled on the ground like a pile of mud, as if he had just been fished out of a pond. The six little sisters gathered around, chattering about whether they should go call for help and save poor Brother Erhu, who looked about to die.

Wang Erhu felt as if his arms no longer belonged to him. Even lying on the ground, they wouldn’t stop trembling, and his hands wouldn’t open or close, twitching uncontrollably like chicken claws.

He had the distinct feeling of having been played to exhaustion, and began to wonder if he’d somehow offended the master recently.

“Well done! You’ve done a great deed today,” the master said, handing him a tiny porcelain vial, no thicker than a thumb. “Here, take this and ask your elder brother to find you a good wife!”

Wang Erhu’s eyes filled with tears. He knew very well that the vial contained the very same liquid he had shaken out of the big jar three thousand six hundred times! Master, you’re far too stingy! That entire jar, and you’re giving me just this—looking at me as if you’re bestowing some great treasure. What about the brotherly bond you always talk about? What about shared prosperity?

Yet, no matter how furious he felt, Wang Erhu ultimately capitulated, taking the thumb-sized porcelain vial from the master with trembling hands.

“Open it and have a smell,” the master instructed.

I’ll smell it, then!

It’s true: once a person lowers their head, it becomes a habit, and it’s hard to straighten up again. Wang Erhu forced a ghastly smile, uncorked the vial, and brought it to his nose. Instantly, a strange, indescribable fragrance filled his nostrils.

“Smells good, doesn’t it?” the master asked.

Wang Erhu nodded instinctively, and was immediately greeted by the cheering of the six little sisters.