Chapter 48: Friends (VI)

At the Buymai Wine Tavern, a certain table of guests stood out as particularly special that day. The proprietor dared not serve them watered-down wine; only the finest, strongest spirits would do for these patrons.

There were five in all. At their head sat a man with a straw rain hat slung over his back, a long sword never leaving his side, the sleeves of his robe puffed slightly as though concealing something within. To his left were two younger men: the stouter of the pair had several red-ribboned flying daggers tucked at his waist, while the leaner carried two large broadswords strapped across his back. Both appeared to be in their early twenties.

Speaking of youth, there was also a young woman among them, seated to the right. She was fair and delicate, with two iron folding fans hanging at her waist. They called her Little Iron Fan Lady.

Of course, there was an older man as well—a world-weary uncle with a face full of bristling beard, his heavy iron staff leaned against the wall.

The tavern keeper knew them all. These five were the commanders of the Chang’an City Watch, known as the "Disreputable Ones." The leader, who focused solely on eating, was Marshal Zhang Heng, the chief of the Watch and a frequent patron of this establishment. The other four were captains, responsible for nightly patrols; the tavern keeper had nicknamed them the "Night Watchmen."

Today was their day to gather and discuss affairs. Although the Watch were low-ranking officials, their work was considered menial, yet they received stipends from the imperial court. The tavern keeper took special care to serve them; should trouble erupt, the Watch could offer protection, and as loyal customers, he could even shave a bit off their bill—it was a fair trade.

“Recently, the Manichaeans have been acting up again, recruiting children wherever they can,” said Little Iron Fan Lady, raising her wine bowl and downing it in one gulp, absently stroking the little black-and-white mouse nibbling beans on the table. “A while back, the Princess’s estate started taking in destitute folk selling their sons and themselves. The Manichaeans lost their supply of recruits for a spell and almost clashed with a eunuch from the Princess's residence…”

“Ha, the Manichaeans—just a bunch of street ruffians. Why bother with them? Isn’t Chang’an still under our watch?” grumbled the chubby captain with the flying daggers, tearing into a hunk of meat, grease glistening on his lips. “But seeing those poor souls with nothing but the sky for a blanket, the earth for a bed, selling their children in the streets—it leaves a bitter taste. The rich feast every day, while the poor starve and freeze. Is this really a peaceful Chang’an?”

“Don’t talk nonsense, Fatty. In this world, only you can save yourself. That’s the harsh truth,” said Liang Zixin, the bearded veteran, propping his chin on his hand with a hint of drunkenness in his eyes.

“Indeed. I wonder what the Manichaeans are plotting, buying up children in the city?” mused Qiu Yuanhong, the double-bladed captain, glancing at Marshal Zhang Heng.

Sensing the gaze of his four captains, Zhang Heng took a sip of wine, rubbed his brow, and shared his thoughts. “These fellows have clashed with us many times. As for buying children, I suspect they’re either selling them on or raising them as future followers. Perhaps both.”

“You’re right, big brother. They’re getting bolder by the day,” said Little Iron Fan Lady, Qing Yu, slamming her wine bowl down with a clang. “They also buy and sell women, both grown and young. Many brothel deals are their doing!”

The mouse, startled, leapt onto Qing Yu’s hand, its tail flicking against her fingers. She quickly soothed the little creature, stroking its dappled fur.

“These scoundrels need dealing with. Not like the Fire Worshippers—those foreigners keep to themselves and don’t cause trouble,” added Fatty, his indignation rising.

Liang Zixin, older and more reserved, said little, preferring to listen quietly beside the marshal.

After hearing their complaints, Zhang Heng raised a hand to quiet them. “I hear you all. To me, Chang’an is not a playground for the powerful, nor a den for street toughs. It’s a home for ordinary people, a city for peace and prosperity. Our duty as the Watch is to protect that peace. Now then—there’ve been a few cases outside the city. The constable Niu is investigating, and it seems the Manichaeans are involved. The victims are married men with children, too poor to afford coffins. I suspect they’re behind it.”

“Well said, big brother,” Qing Yu smiled, pouring wine for Zhang Heng.

“Indeed, indeed,” said Fatty, eagerly placing a chicken leg in the marshal’s bowl.

Zhang Heng shook his head with a wry smile, gnawing on the chicken leg before downing his wine. “So, you’ve all discussed this together already, haven’t you?”

“The three of them did. I wasn’t involved,” Liang Zixin raised his hand in protest.

“Brother Liang, how could you betray us?” Qing Yu pouted, displeased at being sold out.

“I knew it. You three haven’t let the subject drop all evening,” Zhang Heng rapped the table, feigning anger.

“Don’t be mad, big brother! The Manichaeans really have crossed the line lately!” Fatty’s cheeks quivered as he pleaded.

“Yeah, even the Watch isn’t safe from them…” Qing Yu glanced at her mouse, explaining with a pout.

Seeing their crestfallen faces, Zhang Heng relaxed, his authority undiminished. “The Manichaeans must be watched. Their arrogance needs curbing. We’ll keep an eye on them, and if anything happens, we’ll join forces with Constable Niu and Constable Cao from the Ministry of Justice and bring them down together!”

“You’re wise, big brother!”
“Mighty, big brother!”
“Unstoppable, big brother!”

All eyes turned to the bearded Liang Zixin, Qing Yu nudging him to speak up.

After their meal and conversation, the group dispersed, each captain leading his team to patrol their assigned districts.

The Princess’s estate basked under the noon sun.

Li Hui, known as Li Jiulang, stood anxiously at the gate. As the grandson of the current prime minister, he counted as someone of status, but his grandfather’s orders left him no room to refuse, no matter how much he wished otherwise.

He paced outside the gate, his heart heavy. He recalled his own bluster that day, threatening her, boasting of his status as the prime minister's grandson.

With a sigh, he glanced at his toadying servant, his anxiety mounting. He hadn’t expected the girl in the blue dress to turn out to be a princess—newly appointed, with an estate of five thousand households. The Crown Prince himself only had nine thousand; the Princess Yuzhen, wandering the world, had just three thousand. No other princess had ever been granted so much—she was one step short of a full noble title.

Why wasn’t she coming out? Princess, oh Princess, please come out—I’ve already rehearsed my apology.

Li Jiulang paced back and forth, kicking stones in frustration, not knowing what to do with his hands—scratching his back, touching his knees, ruffling his hair in confusion.

Finally, Wu Yueling appeared at the entrance, standing beneath the plaque radiating righteous energy.

“Well, well, the prime minister’s little scoundrel actually dares to show his face!” Wu Yueling rolled up her sleeves, ready to teach him a lesson.

“Spare me, Your Highness! I’m not here to cause trouble—I’ve come to apologize. I offended you the other day; please forgive me!” Li Jiulang, seeing the princess’s fierce demeanor, dropped to his knees in supplication.

Wu Yueling was baffled. Wasn’t this the prime minister’s grandson, who had been so arrogant with his grandfather’s backing? Why was he suddenly playing the humble grandson today?

She ignored his rambling apologies and returned to the Heavenly Gift Pavilion to continue her work. She still had no idea what scheme Li Linfu was plotting. She’d expected him to seek retribution after she struck his grandson, but it had all turned into this farce.

Seeing that the princess had no intention of acknowledging him, Li Jiulang simply completed his grandfather’s errand by offering his apology, regardless of whether she forgave him. If nothing else, he’d just be more discreet in the future and avoid causing trouble for his grandfather.