Chapter Eight: Young Mengchang and Qin Qiong

Master Qin arrived at the inn on the sixteenth of April; today is the eighteenth of May. In a month with thirty days, that makes thirty-two days in total. Our inn has its rules: the day of arrival and the day of departure are exempt from meal charges, as a gesture of welcome and farewell. Thirty full days remain. The horses received fine feed, and Master Qin had three meat meals a day. At a rate of one tael and seven qian per day, the total comes to twenty-one taels of pure silver. Four taels have already been paid, so there are seventeen taels outstanding. Young master, are you truly going to pay?” Wang Xiaor cast a sidelong glance at Yun Hao.

“Young master, Qin Qiong is grateful for your kindness. Yet the bill at this inn is too much—it's not something a child can afford. Don’t let your family lose your travel money on my account,” Qin Qiong immediately recognized the boy as the child from the mother and son he had rescued at the cattle market.

Qin Qiong noted Yun Hao’s plain attire and the absence of any adornments on Madam Zhao. Clearly, they were not wealthy, and seventeen taels was no small sum. If they spent their fare to repay him, that would hardly be right. So, despite his hardships, Qin Qiong refused Yun Hao’s offer.

Yun Hao clasped his hands and addressed Qin Qiong with the air of a little adult. “Master Qin, you’ve just saved my mother and me. Money is only worldly possessions—what use is it if one loses their life? Please rest assured: the seventeen taels I offer will not leave us destitute.

Though young, I have confidence I won't let my mother or myself go hungry.”

“Don’t boast, child. You are too young to understand how hard the world can be. Go back to your mother; I am grateful for your kindness. I’ll stay here tonight, and tomorrow I’ll sell my horse and return to Jinan Prefecture in Shandong,” Qin Qiong found the boy charming and righteous, and was even more reluctant to let them go hungry. He refused Yun Hao's offer once again.

“Haha! Master Qin, you underestimate me. There's a saying: 'Heaven gave me talents for a purpose; a thousand pieces of gold spent shall return.' Seventeen taels is nothing. One day I will build a grand estate,” Yun Hao said with full confidence. Though King Guang Qin had fooled him, he possessed knowledge two thousand years ahead of those around him. With such an advantage, even a little effort would bring wealth.

“Heaven gave me talents for a purpose; a thousand pieces of gold spent shall return! You are a scholar?” Qin Qiong recognized the famous line from the Poet Immortal, Li Bai. He instantly realized this boy was no ordinary child. No common youth could utter such bold yet philosophical words.

“I studied at the village school for two years, Master Qin. Forgive my presumption. Wang Xiaor, not a single penny will be missing from the bill. Quickly move Master Qin’s luggage to the main room; today’s meals should be meat dishes as usual. If you show any neglect, your payment will be withheld,” Yun Hao pointed at Wang Xiaor, who he had no affection for, and reprimanded him.

“Very well, since young master is willing to settle the account, everything can be arranged,” Wang Xiaor’s eyes flashed with a hint of harshness, but it quickly disappeared. Business is business: as long as the money is paid, all is negotiable.

Seeing Yun Hao's firm resolve, Qin Qiong no longer pressed the matter. Madam Zhao was injured and needed to rest for two days. Once he sold the horse, he could repay their kindness. Yet he felt a pang of regret for the yellow bay horse, recalling Wang Bodang's friendship in gifting it; he sighed deeply.

Wang Xiaor, knowing money was forthcoming, became eager and attentive, helping Qin Qiong move his luggage and shouting for his wife to prepare meat dishes.

The group moved to the front yard. Wang Xiaor's wife saw him leading Qin Qiong and the others, and was surprised. Her husband was never this diligent—especially after Master Qin owed the inn, Wang Xiaor’s attitude toward him had plummeted. Why the sudden change today?

“Hey, what are you dawdling for? Prepare meat dishes for the guests. Master Qin, young master, I’ve readied a main room for you,” Wang Xiaor opened the room next to Yun Hao and his mother’s, which was identical: four chairs and a table, a bed against the wall. The only difference was the absence of a canopy. Given the mild weather and few mosquitoes, Qin Qiong didn't mind.

“Master Qin, you’ve had a long day. I’ll fetch some hot water for you! Please wait a moment!” Wang Xiaor placed Qin Qiong’s luggage on the table and dashed off.

“Thank you, young master. Who would have thought that I, Qin Qiong, would find myself in such straits? As the saying goes, a penny can humble a hero. Now I see how true it is,” Qin Qiong sat in the chair, reflecting on his fortunes.

In Jizhou Prefecture, Shandong, Qin Qiong served as head constable—always a figure respected by all. As an outstanding constable, he dutifully arrested bandits, protected the people, accepted bribes, and handled affairs for money.

To his credit, despite years of dealing with ruffians and unsavory characters, and not lacking in questionable actions, he was a good man at heart—generous and often aiding friends. Anyone who knew him, even those at their wits’ end, could count on his help. Friends from all walks of life would come for meals, and he earned the nickname “Little Lord Mengchang.”

Thus, his reputation grew, his connections widened, and he became increasingly effective—so much so that even the magistrates would call upon him for help. His home, like Lord Mengchang’s, was always filled with guests, ranging from officials like Wang Bodang to desperados like Cheng Yaojin. The etiquette was the same: bowing in thanks, eating and drinking their fill, and then, after receiving money, gladly serving as followers, spreading word of Qin Qiong’s virtues.

With countless volunteers singing his praises, Master Qin’s fame spread from the county to the whole province, and eventually across the nation. In Jizhou Prefecture, if you didn’t know Qin Qiong, people would say you weren’t a true local.

Who would have thought that in Jizhou Prefecture, where he was esteemed and surrounded by admirers, Qin Qiong would fall so low simply for owing an inn’s bill? He felt embarrassed just thinking about it.

“Young master, the silver you paid for Qin Qiong will be returned in full. I still don’t know where you’re headed. If you’re bound for Shandong, we can travel together. If you wish to visit Jizhou Prefecture, I’ll be honored to host you,” Qin Qiong understood the value of helping those in need—easy to offer help in prosperity, hard to aid in adversity.

“The money is no concern. My mother and I are not heading for Shandong. We’re bound for Jinyang; I’ve heard that the Duke of Tang is stationed there for the royal hunt. We hope to make a living in that place.”

“May I ask where you hail from, young master? Why must you go to Jinyang?” Qin Qiong was puzzled by Yun Hao’s words and inquired further.

Yun Hao sighed and explained how he had come back from the dead, how the elders of his clan believed him a monster and wanted a Daoist priest to burn him alive, and how his father’s friend had saved him.

Qin Qiong was astonished. With years of experience, he knew such things happened in rural areas—sometimes it was just a case of suspended animation, but once revived, people could still be burned alive by shamans. This child was indeed lucky to have survived.

As they spoke, Wang Xiaor entered with a sycophantic smile, looking at Yun Hao and saying, “Young master, about the payment…”