Chapter Nine: Repayment

When Yun Hao saw Wang Xiao'er holding the account book and small scale, he immediately understood—this guy wasn't going to fetch hot water at all, but had hurried off to grab the account book, as if afraid Yun Hao would refuse to pay. Qin Qiong frowned at this; Wang Xiaoer's greed was truly excessive. It wasn't as if they were refusing to pay, yet he pressed so hard.

“It's the inn bill, is it? That's easy enough, come with me,” Yun Hao said, rising to his feet and heading toward the room he shared with his mother. Qin Qiong stood as if to speak, but then sat back down in resignation, bowing his head with a heavy sigh. His waxen, weathered face even flushed slightly. With a sudden crack, the porcelain cup in his hand shattered into shards, and blood mingled with hot water began to drip steadily to the floor.

Unaware of this scene, Yun Hao led Wang Xiao'er to his room. Seeing his mother reclining on the bed, he bounded over. “Mother, give me the coin pouch.”

Without hesitation, his mother pulled from her bosom a small pouch filled with copper coins and handed it to him.

“Not this one, the pouch with the silver!” Yun Hao declined, asking for the one with silver instead.

During the Sui and Tang dynasties, copper coins were the main currency in circulation, but for a woman and a child traveling, carrying copper was inconvenient. So mother and son had exchanged their coins for silver for ease of transport. Unexpectedly, it was just what they needed to pay Wang Xiao'er today.

“Why do you need money, Hao’er?” Though she was a woman of little concern for such details, believing that after her husband's death she ought to listen to her son, she still felt compelled to ask why he needed the silver. Without money, they would struggle to find lodging or even food.

“Mother, my teacher taught me that if someone gives you even a drop of water in kindness, you should repay them with a fountain. Isn't that right?”

“Indeed. If someone shows you kindness, it is only proper to repay it. That is the way of the world—your teacher is right,” she replied, pleased by her son's understanding.

“Mother, the money is to pay the inn bill for the benefactor who saved us at the cattle and horse market today. He is a constable from Jinan Prefecture, here on official business in Luzhou, but his companion left with his silver, and now he is ill and stranded at Wang's Inn in Taiyuan. Today he even went to the market to sell his horse to pay his bill. He saved both our lives—shouldn't we help him pay his debt with our silver?”

Yun Hao spoke with such eloquence that his mother nodded repeatedly in approval.

“Very well, this is our responsibility. Innkeeper, how much is owed? We shall pay it,” she said, retrieving the pouch of silver from her bundle and addressing Wang Xiao'er.

“My, my! Madam, you are truly reasonable, and it’s rare to see a mother raise such a righteous child. I just told the young master—the sum owed by Lord Qin is seventeen taels of pure silver,” Wang Xiao'er replied with a fawning smile.

At this, Yun Hao’s mother froze. Their journey had already depleted much of their funds; now, there remained only about nineteen or twenty taels. If they paid Qin Qiong’s bill, they’d be left with barely anything—enough to make it doubtful they could even leave Luzhou, let alone reach Jinyang.

“Innkeeper, could you give us a moment? I need to speak to my son.” Embarrassed, she pulled Yun Hao aside and whispered, “Hao’er, we can’t afford this. If we help our benefactor pay his bill, we might go hungry ourselves.”

Yun Hao glanced back at Wang Xiao’er and whispered, “Don’t worry, Mother. Our benefactor has friends here in Luzhou. We can consider the silver a loan—within three days, it will be repaid, perhaps even with interest.”

Others might not know history, but Yun Hao certainly did; he’d heard the tales of the Sui and Tang many times. According to the stories, the local underworld boss, Shan Xiongxin, admired Master Qin Qiong greatly. If he could bring Shan Xiongxin to meet Qin Qiong, forget about seventeen taels—even a hundred and seventy would be no problem. After all, what crime boss is ever poor? In their world, money is essential for power.

“Really?” his mother asked, half-believing.

“Mother, would I lie to you? It’s as true as pearls,” Yun Hao replied, eyes wide with sincerity.

“As if you’ve ever seen a pearl!” she teased, but handed him the pouch. “Here. If it doesn’t come back, we’ll have to go hungry.”

Though she hesitated, she could not deny her son’s sense. Without Qin Qiong’s righteous intervention, they might not be alive. Even if it meant risking hunger, they must repay such a debt of gratitude.

Yun Hao took the pouch and trotted over to Wang Xiao’er. “Here’s the silver, weigh it.”

Wang Xiao’er’s eyes lit up at the sight of silver. He deftly set to weighing it.

The pouch contained only nineteen taels and seven qian. Wang Xiao’er carefully clipped off the right amount of silver. “Such righteousness in one so young! No doubt you’ll go far,” he said with a smile, all the while thinking: With only two taels left, let’s see how you two survive. I’ll be sure the account is exact—if their bill ever exceeds two taels and seven qian, out they go.

Resolved, Wang Xiao’er gleefully left with the silver.

Yun Hao’s mother, pleased by Wang Xiao’er’s praise, felt a glow of pride—until she noticed the now-flattened pouch, and anxiety returned. Alone and widowed, traveling with her child, how could they manage without money? She could only hope her son was right. Otherwise, they might have to find work here in Luzhou. Worse still, they had already offended the so-called “Four Tigers of the East City,” and who knew if they would come seeking trouble.

At that moment, the innkeeper’s wife entered with a tray, smiling. “Dinner is served, honored guests. We just slaughtered a sheep, and saved the best for you two—please eat while it’s hot!” With that, she set a ceramic bowl of mutton on the table, along with a small wooden bucket of rice.

Yun Hao looked at the so-called hearty meal and lost his appetite. There was plenty of mutton, but only two stalks of greens floated on top. The so-called seasoning consisted of a single spring onion and two cloves of garlic—enough to make anyone queasy.

Yun Hao had long harbored resentment toward the food of the Sui and Tang. Today’s meal was already a lavish feast; were it vegetarian fare, he wouldn’t have touched a bite. One pot of nameless stew boiled with a ladleful of flour, producing something that looked like the paste used to seal northern windows in winter, with only the occasional speck of meat. One taste, and you’d never want a second. He couldn’t imagine how Qin Qiong had endured such days.

Just as mother and son were about to eat, a commotion erupted in the courtyard. A loud voice shouted, “You filthy scoundrel, get out here now!”

Yun Hao ran to the door and, upon looking out, was utterly astonished!