Chapter 132: Harassment

The news that the Law of Written Characters was about to be introduced made Chen Jianchen, whose instincts were exceptionally keen, sense a hint of danger closely connected to himself. Recalling the history of his former life, he knew that in another world and another age, whether it was the Qin dynasty’s burning of books and burying of scholars, or the Qing dynasty’s “Breeze Knows No Letters,” every literary inquisition had caused tremendous upheaval throughout the realm and sent countless scholars to their deaths.

Chen Jianchen was now a scholar of the Tiantong Dynasty—and not a particularly well-behaved one at that. For the sake of his life and livelihood, he had to make preparations in advance. From then on, he would have to watch his words, act with caution, and tread carefully.

Over the next few days, he devoted considerable effort to gathering information on the matter.

Unfortunately, the imperial court was too far away. The shifting currents of power there were beyond the reach of a minor licentiate living in distant Jiangzhou. All he could learn were a few scraps of peripheral gossip: rumors of discord among the factions at court, for instance, or anecdotes concerning Lord He Xie, the Grand Academician of the Hall of Literary Splendor who had drafted the Law of Written Characters.

Lord He was, of course, surnamed He and named Ling, with the courtesy name Wengui. But he was passionately fond of crabs—he enjoyed playing with them, eating them, painting them, and composing poetry about them. Since he considered all this great amusement, the current emperor had bestowed upon him the elegant sobriquet “Lord Crab.” Thus, among the common people, he was universally called Lord He Crab, while his given name was scarcely used.

Lord He did not take offense at this. On the contrary, he was rather pleased with himself.

Unable to uncover anything of substance, Chen Jianchen simply put his Strange Tales business on hold for the time being. It seemed wiser to lie low and avoid attracting attention. In any case, he was not short of money and did not necessarily need to earn his living by selling calligraphy.

Perhaps divine favor had descended upon the realm. The new Law of Written Characters arrived late and was not promulgated before the New Year. That was just as well. At least they could enjoy a happy festival.

This was Chen Jianchen’s second New Year since crossing into this world. As the years increased, so did one’s lifespan; he was now eighteen. In his former life, this should have been a carefree, sunlit season of youth. But in this life, he had become the pillar on whom his family could not afford to lose their support, the person his mother relied upon.

Remembering the happy days of his first year, when he had earned enough for a comfortable New Year by writing couplets, Chen Jianchen inexplicably found himself longing for those simple, unadulterated joys.

“Mother, A-Bao, I’m going out for a stroll.”

Mo Sanniang and A-Bao had prepared most of the New Year provisions several days earlier, so there was no need for Chen Jianchen to trouble himself. Pleased to have some free time, he went out to clear his head.

The streets of Jiangzhou were exceptionally lively at this time of year. There were at least twice as many pedestrians as usual, and the number of roadside stalls had more than doubled. Among them, stalls selling New Year couplets were especially numerous.

These stalls were extremely simple: a table, a chair, and the Four Treasures of the Study. They had no signboards, nor did their owners shout to attract customers as the other vendors did. The neatly dressed scholars and licentiates merely sat upright in their chairs; when business was slow, some even held a book and read.

Because of his love for calligraphy, Chen Jianchen never passed a couplet stall without taking a look, hoping to find some fine writing. Unfortunately, the characters produced by those scholars were without exception stiff and overly mannered, as though they had been printed. They were excessively standardized and lacked any distinctive artistic spirit. There was nothing worth praising.

As he walked, he unknowingly crossed two streets. Suddenly, a burst of applause and cheers rose ahead. A crowd had gathered around something, apparently watching a spectacle.

Chen Jianchen’s curiosity was aroused. He walked over and discovered that it was a painting stall, where a scholar was drawing portraits for customers.

The young scholar had a somewhat weathered appearance. It was difficult to tell whether he was in his twenties or thirties. His eyes were a little small but remarkably bright, while the untrimmed stubble on his chin added several shades of melancholy to his features. There was a saying that artists all favored a melancholy air, and this young man had clearly mastered the essence of it.

Interested, Chen Jianchen went to examine his portraits. The moment he saw them, he could not help applauding in admiration.

What marvelous paintings!

Chen Jianchen himself loved calligraphy, but he also possessed some knowledge of painting. He had been deeply interested in painting classes at the academy. Compared with his calligraphy, however, his accomplishments in painting were somewhat lacking. He had produced quite a few studies, but none was good enough to display publicly.

Now, watching the scholar paint a portrait, he saw the brush move like flying. With only a few strokes, the man could capture the subject’s appearance on a blank sheet of paper. The eyes and brows seemed alive, and the likeness was astonishingly vivid. In an age without cameras, such a lifelike portrait was practically the stuff of people’s dreams.

Thus, even though the scholar charged the steep price of one hundred copper coins per portrait, his business still attracted plenty of customers, while an even larger crowd gathered simply to watch.

After completing portraits for three customers in succession, the next customer failed to appear for quite some time. The scholar remained neither hurried nor impatient. He set down his brush and wiped his hands with a damp cloth.

Seeing this, Chen Jianchen stepped forward, clasped his hands, and said, “I am a student of Bright Splendor Academy, surnamed Chen and styled Liuxian. Your painting technique is quite unconventional and full of spirit. May I ask your name?”

The scholar hurriedly rose and returned the salute. “This junior pays his respects to his senior.”

Chen Jianchen was taken aback. “You are also a student of Bright Splendor Academy?”

The scholar replied, “This junior is surnamed Xiao and styled Hanfeng. I recently passed the licentiate examination and will enter the academy next year. Unfortunately, I do not have enough money for tuition, so I have been earning a little by painting portraits here on the street.”

So that was it. Chen Jianchen immediately understood.

The Tiantong Dynasty placed great importance on ritual propriety. Those who entered the academy earlier were seniors, while those who entered later were juniors. Thus, Xiao Hanfeng had to address Chen Jianchen as senior and treat him with due courtesy.

“Heh heh, your paintings are quite good. You must have immersed yourself in this art for a long time, Hanfeng.”

“My senior is too kind.”

The two exchanged a few indifferent pleasantries. At that moment, a young maid squeezed through the crowd and walked up to the stall. In a clear, sweet voice, she said to Hanfeng, “Good sir, my young mistress would like to invite you to our home to paint a portrait.”

The maid was dressed plainly and had a calm manner. Her round, apple-shaped face was particularly charming. She quickly added, “The fee will be twice the usual amount. We would trouble you to come with me.”

Since Hanfeng painted on the street, his customers were almost all men. When a respectable young lady or a well-bred girl wished to have her portrait painted, she would generally invite the artist into her home to avoid being watched by crowds. An invitation meant business—and perhaps even a romantic encounter.

Chen Jianchen quietly gave Hanfeng a thumbs-up.

Hanfeng seemed to be an amusing sort. His face flushed at once, and he said, “Then I shall trouble you to show me the way.”

He packed up his stall, placed it in his book basket, and apologized to Chen Jianchen before following the maid away.

Chen Jianchen merely smiled. Since they would be studying together at the academy, there would be plenty of opportunities to spend time with each other in the future. He could observe Hanfeng’s character then and decide whether he was worth befriending.

After wandering about until he grew somewhat tired, Chen Jianchen turned back toward home for lunch. But as soon as he reached his gate, he suddenly heard a commotion coming from the Golden Needle Clinic across the street.

Frowning, Chen Jianchen went over to take a look. A broad, dark-skinned man stood there, loudly demanding that Lu Xiyue examine him, his breath thick with alcohol.

The man was short, black and fat, with a face covered in heavy flesh. One of his eyes was large and the other small, giving him a rather vicious appearance.

Lu Xiyue had not come outside. The one blocking the entrance was a maid named Autumn Chrysanthemum.

“Good sir, the Golden Needle Clinic has always treated women and does not see male patients. You should go somewhere else.”

The man refused to give up. “Who in half of Jiangzhou doesn’t know Big Mao? Who dares refuse me respect? You little girl are truly incapable of recognizing your place. Since this is a medical clinic, how can you refuse to treat a patient? Your Uncle Mao has a terrible headache. Move aside and let me in.”

Autumn Chrysanthemum stood firmly in the doorway. “Master Mao, please go home. No matter what, my mistress will not treat you.”

Big Mao raised his thick brows. “Little girl, if you don’t move, you’d better watch out for my fists.”

As he spoke, he raised a fist as large as a basin and waved it threateningly.

“In broad daylight, beneath a clear sky, you dare injure someone? Have you truly no regard for the law?”

The cold voice came from behind him.

Big Mao gave a mocking laugh and turned to look at Chen Jianchen. “Where did this pretty-faced little weakling come from? You dare ruin your uncle’s business? Is your skin itching for a beating?”

“Enough!”

Chen Jianchen shouted, “I am a stipendiary scholar of Bright Splendor Academy. What are you, some street thug and scoundrel, disturbing others without cause and attempting to force your way into a private residence?”

Upon hearing Chen Jianchen announce his status, Big Mao’s arrogance immediately weakened. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, then turned and ran off with surprising decisiveness.

Autumn Chrysanthemum naturally knew Chen Jianchen. She hurriedly bowed and thanked him. “Many thanks, Good Sir Chen.”

“It was nothing. Where is your mistress?”

“She is inside. Please come in.”

At the street corner, Big Mao was watching them with murderous eyes. Grinding his teeth, he muttered, “That pretty boy can go in, but I can’t? Bah! Wasn’t she just some lowly courtesan from the Bird-Watching House? Does she think becoming a physician has made her superior?”

With that, he stalked away angrily.

The Golden Needle Clinic occupied a small residence with a single courtyard. There were two side rooms in the inner courtyard: Lu Xiyue lived in one, while the two maids shared the other. The rooms in front served as the consulting area and treatment hall.

After entering, Chen Jianchen sat in the front room and was offered tea. Lu Xiyue personally brewed it and poured him a cup.

“Thank you for what you did just now, Young Master.”

Chen Jianchen laughed. “There is no need for such formality between us.”

At his words, Lu Xiyue felt as though she had swallowed a piece of rock candy. Her heart turned sweet all at once, and she obediently murmured, “Mm,” before sitting down beside him.

Chen Jianchen asked, “Xiyue, now that you have opened a clinic, I imagine you are often harassed by local ruffians.”

Making a living in the city was difficult enough under ordinary circumstances, let alone for a frail woman such as her.

Lu Xiyue replied, “It is not too bad. It is only that Big Mao has come several times now. He is crude and rude, and truly irritating.”

Chen Jianchen raised his brows. “He is only a petty thug. If he really dares to cause trouble, I have ways of dealing with him.”

Lu Xiyue had long since come to rely on Chen Jianchen as her support. Naturally, she did not doubt him in the slightest.

Chen Jianchen, however, thought farther ahead and considered the matter more carefully. Who could say what despicable methods such hooligans might employ? He must not be careless.

He counted the days on his fingers. If nothing unexpected happened, Yingning and Xiaoyi should be returning to Jiangzhou within the next few days to reunite with him.

At the thought of Yingning, a warm smile appeared at the corners of Chen Jianchen’s mouth.