Chapter Ten: What Is Nobility?

A two-thousand-word chapter was pure torture for Cangshan; he’d find himself going over every time, so he might as well combine two into one. (Missing a chapter’s worth of clicks—ouch, that hurts.)

…

Wu Sansi, Wu Chengsi, and even Princess Taiping, all heading to Fangzhou together?

This revelation truly startled Wu Ning, so much so that he forgot about the little matter that had been on his mind. He blurted out, “What are these imperial scions coming to Fangzhou for?”

“What for?” Wu Changlu scoffed. “The Empress Dowager misses her son. She’s sending the three of them to celebrate the Prince of Luling’s birthday and enjoy a bit of family warmth—isn’t that reasonable?”

“Nonsense!” Wu Ning cursed loudly.

Not only did Wu Changlu raise his brows, but the morose and gloomy uncle also looked up in mild surprise at Wu Ning.

“What birthday celebration is worth all this fuss? Surely, they have ulterior motives?”

“Hah!” Wu Changlu laughed heartily at that, pointing at Wu Ning. “Didn’t I say those court bigwigs aren’t all that clever? Even a yellow-mouthed youngster can see through their pretense!”

Clearly, the adults had already discussed this matter at Fourth Uncle’s house that afternoon, and their opinions weren’t much different from Wu Ning’s.

The old patriarch shot Fourth Uncle a glare. “What are you yelling about with a bunch of kids present?”

He was wary of children’s loose lips.

Turning, he saw that Wu Li, Tiger, and Qiao’er had finished eating. “It’s late—head home, all of you.”

The three children, full and uninterested in the grown-ups’ conversation, obediently took their leave at the old patriarch’s command.

Wu Ning, seeing that dusk had fallen, went inside to light the oil lamp, placing it under the grape arbor to give the elders some illumination.

He cleared the leftover dishes, leaving only the wine for the adults to sip at their leisure.

After all was settled, he quietly took a seat himself.

...

“Even if there’s an ulterior motive, would the Empress Dowager really make such a grand show?” Fourth Uncle was still caught up in the earlier topic. “Sending out the Wu brothers, and Princess Taiping, to keep watch over the Prince of Luling—such a display is unprecedented!”

With the younger generation gone, leaving only the sensible Wu Ning, the old patriarch seemed more at ease and spoke freely: “Hmph, isn’t it all because of Li Zhen and Li Chong, that father and son?”

“Damn!” Wu Ning cursed under his breath. “Those two scoundrels again!”

Who were Li Zhen and Li Chong?

Heh, their backgrounds were as grand as they come.

One was Emperor Gaozong Li Zhi’s brother, Prince of Yue, Li Zhen; the other, Li Zhen’s eldest son, Prince of Langya, Li Chong.

Not only were they of imperial blood, but they were direct descendants of the Li clan, nobles of the highest order.

But at this very moment, the pair were already dead and gone, long since departed to meet the King of Hell—not that Wu Ning could do anything to them.

Yet Wu Ning still hated them to the bone.

Why? Well, that took some explaining.

It all began last year.

Back then, Wu Chengsi—the very one about to arrive in Fangzhou—somehow got hold of a piece of white stone, secretly had eight characters carved into it: “The Holy Mother descends, the imperial enterprise prospers eternally.”

He decorated it with purple-stone and medicines, and had it presented to the Empress Dowager by Tang Tongtai of Yongzhou.

As a transmigrator, Wu Ning knew better than anyone else that Wu Meiniang, that old woman, harbored ambitions as vast as the sky—she wanted the throne for herself.

Such a stone, naturally, was right up her alley. Delighted, she issued an edict, naming it the “Heavenly Bestowed Sacred Image.”

Thus, the white stone was instantly elevated to a sign of auspicious fortune.

That was a good thing. Even if Wu Ning knew the stone was a fake cooked up by Wu Chengsi, he didn’t care—the point was that such an omen had appeared.

Because with an auspicious sign, the Empress Dowager would be pleased, and the next steps would be a sacrifice to Heaven, thanks-offerings, and a general amnesty!

As a fugitive, Wu Ning could finally shake off his shackles and spread his wings.

Ever since the incident, rumors swept through the court and the land—a general amnesty was imminent.

Wu Ning waited and hoped, hope building day by day...

There were even rumors that the court had already discussed the pardon, and that an imperial decree might soon reach Fangzhou.

But just at that critical moment, bam! Li Zhen and Li Chong popped up.

Those two idiots, as if they’d caught a cold and swallowed a contraceptive, decided to rise up in rebellion under the banner of restoring Li Xian, Prince of Luling.

The old lady Wu was furious: suppress the rebellion!

Wu Ning nearly spat blood—what were those two thinking? If they could have succeeded, fine. But not only were they crushed by the Empress Dowager within two months, they dragged a host of Li clan royals to their deaths as well.

Worst of all, the general amnesty... vanished. Wu Ning, still a fugitive, had no idea when he’d be free.

And another consequence of the two princes’ rebellion was that their cause was tied to the restoration of Li Xian.

When Li Xian heard of it, he was nearly scared to death, hastily submitting a memorial to the court to declare he had nothing to do with it.

But with the Empress Dowager’s ruthlessness—better to kill a thousand in error than let one escape—it was only logical that the Wu brothers and Princess Taiping were sent “to check on” Li Xian in Fangzhou.

“Sigh!”

The old patriarch let out a long sigh, pulling Wu Ning from his thoughts.

“Whatever their intentions, it’s the people of Fangzhou who suffer in the end!”

Wu Changlu forced a smile, comforting his father. “Our village isn’t too badly off; we have many soldiers in the household, so at most we’ll be called upon for some labor. With me in the middle to smooth things over, it shouldn’t be too burdensome—but for others, I can’t say.”

“How so?” Wu Ning asked, sensing that Fourth Uncle’s words implied more than just military conscription.

“Heh,” Fifth Uncle sneered. “Other villages not only have to provide men for labor, they have to cough up money as well!”

“What?”

“Messengers from the capital are already here, ordering the prefecture to build a separate residence for those three dignitaries when they arrive in Fangzhou.”

“So, other villages and counties not only have to provide soldiers, but also forced labor.”

Wu Changlu continued, “Where will the magistrate’s office find money to build a new residence? It’ll inevitably fall on the common folk.”

“Dammit!” Wu Ning cursed inwardly.

“A single word decides life or death; a single move, and gold flows like water. Wherever they go, it must be a grand parade—why, even their lodgings must be newly built!”

What is a noble? This is what a noble is.

“But isn’t the Prince of Luling’s birthday on the fifteenth of the twelfth month?” Wu Ning was puzzled. “By my calculations, that’s only half a year away—is there time to build a new residence?”

“That’s not something a youngster like you needs to worry about!” The old patriarch propped himself up and stood.

“We ordinary folk should concern ourselves with our own lives.”

“It’s getting late—everyone, to bed.”

“Wait.”

If the patriarch hadn’t mentioned their own affairs, Wu Ning might have forgotten—this meal wasn’t hosted for nothing.

He smiled at the elders. “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you all.”

“Hmm?” The old patriarch frowned. “Is it about what your seventh aunt came about today?”

He showed no sign of sitting back down. “I’ll have a word with that woman later; you needn’t worry. Tomorrow, I’ll have Baling bring some more grain, just make do for now.”

“No need!” This time, before Wu Ning could speak, the gloomy uncle stood up first.

A bit awkwardly, he said, “We’re managing... no need to trouble you, sir.”

“Managing?” The old patriarch’s brows shot up, as if about to scold, but he restrained himself.

He said with some frustration, “Jiulang’s growing boy—he can’t survive on thin gruel every day.”

The uncle fell silent.

“It’s not...” Wu Ning, with his usual lack of presence, looked utterly resigned.

“Patriarch, may I say a word or two?”

“Say what!?” The old man showed him no mercy. “The elders are talking—what’s a brat like you butting in for?”

“Haha.” Wu Changlu tried to smooth things over.

“Jiulang isn’t a child anymore—he’s practically an adult. Father, let’s hear what the boy has to say.”

“Exactly!” Wu Ning chimed in.

He came forward, half-supporting, half-guiding the old patriarch back onto a low stool.

“I’m already fifteen—in a couple of years, I’ll be marrying my own bride.”

“Hmph!” The old patriarch, though enjoying the attention, would not let his tongue be gentle.

“Talking about marrying before you can even fill your belly!”

“That’s why I wanted to consult you, sir.” Wu Ning seized the opportunity, refilling the patriarch’s cup.

Wu Changlu added, “Father, hear him out—if it’s nonsense, you can scold him then.”

The nephew and uncle worked in perfect harmony, holding the old patriarch in place.

As for the gloomy uncle, he was simply ignored.

...

Seeing that the patriarch was silent, Wu Ning dared not delay. He hurried inside and brought out a string of cash.

“Please look, sir!”

The old man’s expression changed instantly. “You! Where did you get so much money?”

Both Fourth Uncle and Fifth Uncle were equally shocked. Wu Changlu even gave Wu Ning a hearty slap on the back. “Well done, boy! You’ve saved up a whole string—impressive!”

Only the gloomy uncle didn’t even bother to look. “Just a string—where did it come from?”

Wu Ning couldn’t be bothered to argue with his joyless uncle, so he explained how he’d saved the money, and how that morning Seventh Aunt had run off with a sack of grain but had stubbornly refused the small pouch of coins.

Fifth Uncle and Wu Changlu nearly laughed themselves breathless.

“Man proposes, Heaven disposes. If Seventh Aunt knew she’d lost a string of cash over a sack of old grain, she’d be too furious to get out of bed.”

Wu Ning laughed along. “This money was meant for Seventh Aunt—Seventh Uncle helped us plenty while he was alive.”

“But since Seventh Aunt said we’d settle up in the autumn, I thought maybe I could borrow the money for something—perhaps it’ll make life a bit easier.”

“Hmm...” Wu Changlu pondered.

“It’s not much use,” he said with a frown. “Land in Fangzhou isn’t cheap—even a poor acre costs three strings or more. Besides, there’s no idle land around our village.”

Buying land is the instinct of both rich and poor farmers alike.

“I’m not buying land,” Wu Ning replied. “I want to do a bit of business.”

“No way!!” Before Wu Ning had even finished, the patriarch, Fourth and Fifth Uncles—even the gloomy uncle—all spoke as one.

“Trade is a base occupation—not a way to live!”

The patriarch added, “That soup stall of yours is bad enough, and now you want to stir up more trouble?”

Wu Changlu tried to persuade him gently. “Jiulang, we know you’re clever and have a head for making a living, but you must choose the right path.”

“Times are hard, it’s true, but grit your teeth for a couple more years—when the court grants a general amnesty and you become a good citizen, things will look up. But we mustn’t go down the merchant’s path—that’s just demeaning ourselves.”

...

Damn it!

Wu Ning could only look to the heavens in frustration—impoverished as they were, they still turned up their noses at merchants! What kind of world was this?

But there was no help for it—scholar, farmer, artisan, merchant.

Scholars (that is, officials) were the most esteemed.

Farmers, no matter how poor, came second.

Artisans ranked next, and merchants were the lowest, only barely above slaves.

You could be rich, but in the Tang dynasty, unlike the merchant-friendly Song or the capital-driven later ages, merchants were despised.

Merchants couldn’t be officials, nor could they take the imperial exams.

You could be wealthy at home, but outside, you had to hide your silk robes under coarse cloth.

You paid higher taxes, more labor levies. Even in court, set aside “the power of money,” and you’d still be half a head shorter than a craftsman or farmer.

Although Wu Changlu had long seen that Wu Ning was shrewd and had a knack for business, some things are ingrained—why abandon the dignity of a farmer for the disgrace of a merchant?

If all else failed, even enrolling as a soldier would be better than becoming a merchant.

“Don’t be so hasty,” Wu Ning thought. “Feeding people just gets you nowhere with these folks—this dinner was wasted on them.”

But since the topic was broached, he couldn’t let a few words of opposition shut him down. “I never said I’d register as a merchant!”

“Besides, I wouldn’t dare open a shop in town—I’m still a fugitive, remember.”

Wu Changlu pressed, “Then what do you plan?”

Wu Ning grinned. “Just at home—can’t I do something at home?”

“At home? That soup stall is already as much as you can manage—don’t be greedy.”

“That’s just it—the soup stall can’t get any bigger!” Wu Ning pulled a face.

“Everyone can see how things are at home. That stall brings in a little money, but just a little. After months of watery gruel, my uncle and I have only managed to save a single string of cash. With normal expenses, there’d be nothing left.”

“So I thought, maybe I could find another way to make a living—at least if something like Seventh Aunt’s situation happens again, I’ll be able to cope.”

Afraid of more objections, Wu Ning added, “I won’t register as a merchant—I’ll do it like Fifth Uncle’s kiln business. In the future, I’ll still join the good citizen rolls; for now, making a bit of profit is just a pastime.”

With reason and emotion, Wu Ning pressed his case. After a long while, the elders finally quieted down, at least willing to listen.

After all, that made sense. Merchants were base, but any capable family—except those big landlords who relied solely on slaves—would dabble in commerce to some extent.

Like the patriarch’s charcoal kiln—the whole family was registered as soldiers, but they still ran a kiln and weren’t considered merchants.

Besides, even the city’s great families all had hidden businesses—they just didn’t put them out in the open for others to criticize.

Wu Changlu asked, “So what do you want to do?”

In such a remote place as Xiashan’ao, if not for Mount Changluo and the Immortal-Seekers’ Monastery drawing occasional visitors, there’d be no livelihood at all. Apart from the soup stall, no one could imagine what else Wu Ning might try.

Open a kiln? Forget it—a string of cash wouldn’t even cover building the kiln, let alone hiring workers and buying materials, or paying the kiln tax.

“I want…” Finally, Wu Ning got to the main point, taking a deep breath and voicing his plan.

He pointed to the two crumbling mud rooms next to the main house, used as storage. “I want to fix up those two side rooms and turn them into an inn.”

“Ah…” Wu Changlu nodded absentmindedly.

“Ah!?” He then stared in disbelief.

“An inn?”

“Are you out of your mind?”

The soup stall was already at its limit, and now he wanted to open an inn?

Who would stay there?

...