The Child Emperor

Chapter 88: Not Returning Until Drunk

Having encountered an unexpected incident at Bao’en Temple, Zhang Youcai was so furious that he wanted to set Guangding ablaze. However, Han Ruzi had no intention of investigating further. The abbot expressed his gratitude, and that night, fourteen senior monks were specially added to chant scriptures throughout the night, praying for blessings for the Weary Marquis and his wife. The matter of the deranged monk was thus suppressed. The accompanying decorum officials pretended not to know. For them, anything unexpected that wasn’t arranged beforehand simply didn’t exist.

After returning home, Cui Xiaojun heard about this matter and pondered, “Perhaps he is truly an extraordinary person, but unfortunately, I missed the chance to meet him.”

“It’s better not to meet him. That mad monk… his madness is beyond words,” Han Ruzi said, recalling the stinky fart that he had encountered.

“Extraordinary people have extraordinary words and deeds.” Cui Xiaojun, who had a Buddhist shrine at her maiden home and had read Buddhist scriptures in the past, said with some confusion, “‘The morning sun won’t rise in the east tomorrow, the crimson flames will soar westward, shocking the world.’ This doesn’t sound like Buddhist scripture; it sounds more like folk prophecy… Well, never mind, don’t take it seriously. Perhaps that mad monk is just a bored and crazy monk.”

Han Ruzi smiled and dismissed the thought, lying down on the bed. However, he couldn’t help but take it seriously deep down.

In his view, the seemingly cryptic poem wasn’t a profound prophecy, but a simple riddle. The person who posed this riddle was well-informed about the Weary Marquis’s movements in the past few months.

In the previous months, Han Ruzi had frequently wandered around, buying various delicious and entertaining things. His attendants initially restricted his movements, but gradually became lax, turning a blind eye as he haggled with merchants.

The place Han Ruzi most often visited was the Eastern and Western Markets, especially the Eastern Market closer to home. There was an alley there with numerous fortune tellers and diviners. After the defeat of Prince Qi, some of these diviners were arrested or went into hiding, and it had only recently begun to recover.

Han Ruzi believed he might find clues about Chunyu Xiao there, or that perhaps the mysterious gang that Yang Feng had mentioned might make contact with him. However, nothing of the sort had happened.

“The morning sun won’t rise in the east tomorrow, the crimson flames will soar westward, shocking the world.”

Han Ruzi thought, perhaps the mad monk was trying to tell him that the person he was seeking wasn’t in the Eastern Market, but in the Western Market.

He had been to the Western Market as well. There were also fortune tellers there, although they were fewer in number compared to the Eastern Market, only occupying a few storefronts along a single alley.

As a deposed Emperor, he couldn’t show too much purpose in anything he did. Thus, he waited patiently for half a month before going to the Western Market, claiming that he wanted to buy some cloth to have new clothes made for the people in the mansion.

The Western Market was filled with cloth shops. Han Ruzi rode on his horse and stopped outside one of the shops. Zhang Youcai went in to talk with the shopkeeper, while Du Chuanyun and two other attendants accompanied the Weary Marquis outside.

Inside, the shop assistant brought out cloth samples. With a nod, Han Ruzi indicated that he wanted a particular piece. When he shook his head, the assistant would bring out a different type of cloth.

Du Chuanyun wasn’t particularly fond of shopping. With the master on horseback and himself walking, he was even less pleased. Yawning, he said, “There are about a hundred people in the mansion. How much fabric do you need? It seems like you’d have enough cloth to make clothes for everyone’s funeral.”

Everyone in the mansion knew that the young martial arts instructor didn’t have a sweet tongue. The Weary Marquis didn’t mind, and the other two attendants didn’t mind either.

“We’ll make a few more sets. Isn’t it good to change into new clothes often?” Han Ruzi said with a smile.

Du Chuanyun looked at his own clothes and replied, “Of course not. For those practicing martial arts, the newer the clothes, the more uncomfortable they are to wear…”

Before he could finish speaking, the Weary Marquis had already spurred his horse forward. Du Chuanyun turned to Zhang Youcai, who was walking out of the shop’s entrance, and said, “Advise your master. He’s increasingly showing the demeanor of a degenerate young master.”

The shop would send the chosen fabrics to the Weary Marquis’s mansion, and Zhang Youcai was only responsible for payment. He clapped his hands and laughed, saying, “What’s wrong with being a young master? Many people aspire to be one but can’t.”

Du Chuanyun rolled his eyes and shook his head again.

Han Ruzi didn’t find the phrase “crimson flames will soar westward.” Instead, he saw the characters for “red fire”.

It was a closed and abandoned shop, seemingly neglected for a while. The door panels were weathered and worn, with a partial spring couplet[1] fluttering in the wind on each side. The characters were faded and difficult to notice unless one looked closely.

“Red fire” was synonymous with “crimson flame”, but who should he look for next? Han Ruzi began to doubt if he had overthought things. Perhaps that mad monk was simply an eccentric, and it was his own preoccupations that had drawn him in.

The four attendants caught up, and Zhang Youcai exclaimed, “The Western is so lively but even on this prime piece of land, there are still shops that can’t stay open.”

Another attendant laughed and said, “The shop owner must be foolish. Selling alcohol across from the renowned No Return Inn, and in such a small space.”

“Was this place used for selling alcohol before? That’s definitely the wrong choice of location,” Zhang Youcai shared the sentiment.

Han Ruzi turned around and looked. Across the street was a tall building, bustling with people. Passersby couldn’t help but sniff the air as they passed the entrance, as if they could gain some advantage from it.

Han Ruzi didn’t catch the scent of alcohol. He lifted his head and locked eyes with someone on the upper floor of the building. The person seemed to glance casually at the window before quickly retreating.

At this point, Han Ruzi had no more doubts. He pointed at the building and asked, “Is this place famous?”

Zhang Youcai and Du Chuanyun were inexperienced in such matters. The older attendant licked his lips and said, “’One does not return until drunk; gaining immortality through drunkenness.’ These two sayings are about the No Return Inn and the Drunken Immortal Pavilion. In the Capital, these two places are definitely top-tier for wine appreciation. In the southern part of the city…”

“We don’t need to hurry back to the manor today. Let’s eat here.”

With the Weary Marquis’s decision, the attendants were naturally delighted. They cheerfully led the way, and Han Ruzi dismounted, handing over the reins to one of the attendants. He smiled at Du Chuanyun and said, “What about you? Can’t you drink?”

“My alcohol tolerance is good, but…” Du Chuanyun furrowed his brow, “If you plan on living like this every day, you might as well let us go, my lord.”

Han Ruzi had never revealed the purpose of his wandering around. He didn’t plan to mention it now. “That’s not possible. You two saved me, and I have to repay you by ensuring you live a carefree life.”

The words “carefree life” alone gave Du Chuanyun a headache. He loved the pugilist world and had grown accustomed to the exciting life it entailed. While entering the manor was somewhat exciting at first, now it felt mundane. He pinched his stomach as if he had even gained weight, “No, one of these days, I’ll find Yang Feng. As long as he…”

Zhang Youcai pushed Du Chuanyun from behind, moving him forward. “You’re a strange one, being blessed but insisting on suffering. Let’s go drink, let’s go drink. I refuse to believe that the alcohol in the pugilist world is better than here.”

Before noon arrived, there weren’t many customers in the restaurant and the waitstaff led them to a private room. Han Ruzi requested a seat by the window on the upper floor, saying, “The view itself is a great dish.”

The waiter, who had encountered many individuals of this cultured demeanor, smiled and said, “From here, you can see the outer periphery of Taiye Lake. On lucky days, you might even catch a glimpse of the palace’s pleasure boats. But today seems to be a bit cloudy. Young master, you’ve arrived a bit too early.”

Zhang Youcai let out a disdainful snort from behind.

Han Ruzi had no right to mock the attendant. He had only seen the Taiye Lake once when he went to “expose Zuo Ji” in the palace. After that, he never went near the lake again and had never seen what the palace’s boats looked like.

Han Ruzi settled into his seat near the window on the upper floor. The waiter recommended several dishes and drinks. Zhang Youcai wiped the chair and table once again. After getting his master’s approval, he happily joined the other attendants at a different table, pounding the table for wine. Despite his youth, Du Chuanyun was quite a drinker. With a few words, he cast aside his slight dissatisfaction and rolled up his sleeves, ready to challenge the older attendants to a drinking contest.

The Weary Marquis and his wife were soft-hearted, and their management was lax, which naturally influenced the servants.

Han Ruzi gazed out the window and indeed saw a stretch of water in the distance. That waterway should lead to the imperial palace. Nearby were densely arranged houses, and the street was bustling with people, yet the noise didn’t feel jarring from the upper floor.

As the food and drink were brought to the table, Han Ruzi tasted each item, finding them truly flavorful. Behind him, the attendants were indulging themselves. Du Chuanyun, although young, had a strong tolerance for alcohol. He also preferred to drink from larger cups. Zhang Youcai came over a few times, and seeing that his master didn’t need any help, returned to his own meal with peace of mind.

Han Ruzi’s gaze finally turned to the customer across from him, who was also looking at him.

The man was a middle-aged individual, around forty to fifty years old, wearing a headdress resembling a Taoist cap on his head, but dressed in the attire of a scholar with a long robe. His long facial hair gave him an esteemed, making it difficult to guess his identity.

“It seems this young master doesn’t often come here,” the customer initiated.

There were only a few tables upstairs, and casual conversation was common.

“This is my first time,” Han Ruzi raised his cup and responded.

“If the young master doesn’t mind, I have a small piece of advice: Drinking alcohol before noon is bad for the liver. It might be helpful to pair it with fresh fish.”

Han Ruzi thanked him with a nod, called over the waiter, and ordered fresh fish dishes for both tables. Then, he naturally invited the man from across the room to join their table for a drink. Zhang Youcai and the others sized up the man with a few glances. Seeing him as a refined person, they paid him no more attention.

“I am Lin Kunshan. May I ask for the young master’s esteemed name?”

“I’m surnamed Han,” Han Ruzi didn’t reveal his full name, and Lin Kunshan didn’t press further, addressing him as “Young Master Han.”

They chatted aimlessly, and across the tables, the four men had drunk to their hearts’ content. Zhang Youcai had the lowest alcohol tolerance but was cautious not to drink too much, managing to stay somewhat sober. The two adult attendants were flushed, and Du Chuanyun swayed as both sides refused to admit defeat in terms of alcohol tolerance.

Lin Kunshan lowered his voice slightly and said, “It’s late spring now. Young Master Han, why haven’t you gone outside the city for a spring outing?”

“I had that in mind, but I’m unsure what scenery is worth viewing.”

Lin Kunshan nodded and poured a bit of alcohol onto the table. He dipped his finger in the alcohol and wrote a few words, saying, “This place has the best scenery.”

The words stated, “Subtle Fragrance Garden at the Little Southern Hill”. After Han Ruzi had a look, Lin Kunshan wiped away the writing, got up, and bid his farewell with a courteous bow.

Han Ruzi had heard of the Little Southern Hill, but it wasn’t a well-known place for spring outings. As for Subtle Fragrance Garden, he had never heard of it.

He felt excitement welling up within him.

After noon passed, the Weary Marquis and his entourage returned to the manor. Han Ruzi was still smelling of alcohol. Instead of going to the rear quarters, he rested in the main hall. Zhang Youcai stumbled to fetch some sobering soup, while Du Chuanyun, having imbibed too much, disregarded etiquette and slumped into a chair, dozing off soundly.

In the hall, with no one else around, Du Chuanyun suddenly jumped up from his slumber, coming to the Weary Marquis’s side. He tightly gripped the marquis’s arm and asked solemnly, “How did you end up dealing with a sorcerer from the pugilist world?”

[1] A spring couplet is essentially a kind of poem that consists of two lines. It is common in traditional Chinese culture for people to paste a couplet at their front door during the spring festival (Chinese New Year). This picture depicts a historical shop with a couplet outside its front doors.

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