Chapter Forty-Five: Tit for Tat

It was the twelfth lunar month, and the sun was already high in the sky. The marketplace bustled with crowds, the air thick with cries and chatter. In such a throng, even the smoothest roads could not allow the carriages to pick up speed. Amidst the surging masses, a black lacquered carriage moved slowly, surrounded by three or five attendants. The driver would occasionally lift his whip and shout for passage, but it had little effect. Inside the carriage, a middle-aged man sat cross-legged, cloaked in a blue robe over his fur coat, eyes closed in meditation. On his right wrist gleamed a string of golden amber prayer beads.

Such beads were rare and costly.

“Master, we’ve arrived.”

At the attendant’s call, the man finally opened his eyes. If not for the snow and wind, he would not have chosen to parade through town in a carriage, but the news reported by his steward had greatly vexed him today. Stepping down from the carriage, he noticed a nearby ox cart and stared at it for a moment before entering the tavern ahead with a blank expression. As he stepped inside, his gaze swept over the neatly dressed attendants clustered within. Just then, a loud voice rang out from upstairs.

“That’s already ten dishes! Du Nineteen, do you have any more?”

“I told you it’s a secret recipe—of course there’s more!”

The youthful voices revealed the true protagonists. As the master of the Xu clan of Dengfeng, whose enterprises spanned the county and much of Henan, Xu Ji was a man whose word held sway. He had dealings with officials and was adept at handling all manner of people: seasoned old foxes, proud sons of noble families. Yet the steward’s report of Du Nineteen of Duling, Jingzhao, gave him pause.

Anyone able to form a close friendship with the notoriously outspoken Cui Eleven must share a similar temperament. But whether volunteering to lead the locust hunt, backing Gongsun the dancer against the censor Liu Zhao, or apprenticing under the famed hermit Lu Guangming of Mount Song—all proved Du Nineteen was not merely a reckless youth. He had spirit, but also unique insight. Such a person, why bother crossing swords with him over the trivial Wu Nine?

Composing himself, Xu Ji turned to a Cui family servant who had come to inquire and said, “Please inform Du Lang upstairs that Xu Ji, master of the Xu clan of Dengfeng, requests an audience.”

Upstairs, Wu Nine was carefully stretching paper for Du Shiyi. Hearing the voice below, he shivered, his hand trembling. Cui Jianxuan, beside him, grew annoyed but relaxed when Du Shiyi withdrew his brush in time, sparing the already ink-soaked scroll. He shot Wu Nine a fierce glare. “Be more careful!”

As they spoke, the messenger arrived. Cui Jianxuan was unimpressed by the uninvited guest but returned to his seat, slouching with his legs dangling and chin propped on his hand. When Du Shiyi instructed the servant to bring Xu Ji up, Cui Jianxuan glanced at Wu Nine, who was nervously stretching paper, then curled his lip.

What’s so remarkable about someone who manages government funds? No need to be so intimidated!

Xu Ji ascended the stairs and immediately saw the two young men by the window. The elder, with red lips and white teeth, looked almost like a maiden—his phoenix eyes unforgettable. Yet, for all his beauty, he sat in an unseemly posture, legs sprawled, scrutinizing Xu Ji with an air of arrogance. The younger was bent over his writing, focused, while Wu Nine, the county clerk who usually lacked the status to even request an audience, stood beside him, respectfully stretching paper, head bowed.

Feeling slighted, Xu Ji’s displeasure grew. He cleared his throat and spoke, “Du Lang, I am Xu Ji, master of the Xu clan of Dengfeng.”

“Please wait a moment, Xu Gong; I’ll be done shortly.”

Du Shiyi, without looking up, uttered this polite yet dismissive remark, causing Xu Ji to narrow his eyes. Before he could respond, Cui Jianxuan drawled, “You keep mentioning the Xu clan of Dengfeng, but do you know where it ranks among the eminent families of the realm?”

“Eleven!” Du Shiyi, having finished his writing in one stroke, looked up to see Xu Ji’s face flushed crimson under Cui Jianxuan’s biting words. Knowing Cui’s talent for stirring resentment was legendary, Du Shiyi quickly interjected, calling him to order and sitting upright. “Earlier, Xu’s steward made a commotion to verify my new servant’s identity, insisting on seeing me for clarification. Annoyed, I sent him off. For such a trivial matter to have troubled Xu Gong himself—indeed, the fault is mine.”

Du Shiyi’s mild manner and sincere apology seemed genuine, so Xu Ji reluctantly set aside Cui Jianxuan’s infuriating remark and replied stiffly, “I wouldn’t dare call it your fault, Du Lang. If blame is due, it’s for my lack of discipline. However, Wu Nine is a county clerk. When did he become your servant?”

“Just this morning, after completing all the paperwork at the county office. Why? Does Xu Gong not believe it?”

“It’s not disbelief, but do you know that Wu Nine may not be sincere? He borrowed fifty thousand from my office funds months ago, and now, with interest, owes a hundred thousand!”

Xu Ji expected that exposing this would shock Du Shiyi, persuading him to relinquish his troublesome servant. After all, Du Shiyi’s locust hunt was for fame, backing Gongsun for beauty; surely he wouldn’t take on the burden of Wu Nine’s debts! Yet Du Shiyi simply smiled. “So that’s what you meant. I wasn’t that foolish; before accepting him, he told me about the debt. I suppose Xu Gong is here to collect? That’s easily solved…”

Before he finished, Xu Ji’s heart sank. He had hoped Du Shiyi would realize the mistake and let Wu Nine go, but the situation proved more complicated—Du Nineteen truly intended to settle the debt!

As Du Shiyi paused, seemingly seeking Cui Jianxuan’s counsel, Xu Ji steadied himself and forced a smile. “A hundred strings of cash are nothing to Du Lang. But I’ve managed office funds for years; if word gets out that debtors seek shelter with big houses and those houses don’t shoulder their debts, it’ll ruin the business. Few families in Dengfeng will take on the office funds; if the Xu clan withdraws, others may follow suit…”

Gone was any subtlety; it was a naked threat. Hearing this, Cui Jianxuan, unused to dealing with such local tyrants, grew furious and slammed the table, about to curse, when Du Shiyi restrained him by the shoulder.

“The county office handles only one and a half million strings a year. If the Xu clan refuses, and others do as well, there will always be bold men in Henan. Moreover, if you lend at ten percent a month and pass it on at twenty or thirty percent, how can you call it thin profit? There’s no business in the world more lucrative!”

Xu Ji hadn’t expected Du Shiyi to respond so forcefully. The Xu clan had long led the other gentry of Dengfeng, so retreat was not an option. Thinking of his household’s honored guest, he spoke with a double meaning, “Since Du Lang insists, I have nothing more to say. Incidentally, last night, Yao Dalang from the Charity Quarter of Eastern Capital stayed at my house. He left this morning; if he knew you and Cui Lang were in town, it would be a pity not to meet.”

Mentioning Yao Hong was a misstep. Cui Jianxuan sneered, “Yesterday, Du Nineteen and I happened to run into Yao Dalang at Shaolin Temple. He left in a hurry, claiming mourning. If he truly valued filial piety, why not return to the Eastern Capital sooner? Instead, he entered Dengfeng and stayed at your house? I’ll have to ask him if he was seeking entertainment!”

“Eleven, don’t speculate. Perhaps Xu Gong and Yao’s family have ties, so Yao Dalang stayed at the Xu residence.”

Du Shiyi’s half-smile and thoughtful words unsettled Xu Ji. He’d intended to use the nobleman to pressure Du Shiyi and Cui Jianxuan, but his words betrayed him. Considering the consequences of involving Yao Hong, he reluctantly chose the lesser evil, though it meant giving up a lucrative opportunity.

When faced with two harms, choose the lesser.