Chapter Seven: Rewriting the Case

After Zhang Yue left, Peng Cheng asked Peng Jingyi, “This Third Zhang seems so astute. Why have I never heard you mention it before?”

Peng Jingyi replied, “Second Uncle, I’m not sure either. It feels as if Third Zhang is a different person since we last saw him.”

Peng Cheng nodded. “When someone suffers a great change, a shift in temperament is only natural. Perhaps he was too sheltered before, lacking any tempering.”

Peng Jingyi noticed Peng Cheng’s gaze settle on him and quickly lowered his head.

Peng Cheng said, “Since you’re unwilling to study, you should at least find a respectable occupation. I’ve already spoken to Chief Qian of Renshou Village about you several times. In a few days, I’ll introduce you to him so you can work there. Learn the ropes and get to know your place.”

Peng Jingyi muttered, “Chief Qian is a military official, not a civil one. Won’t I have to put up with the headman’s bullying?”

Seeing Peng Cheng’s face darken, Peng Jingyi quickly added with a smile, “I’ve also spoken to Second Li from the prison camp…”

Peng Cheng scolded, “Why are you always so calculating? There’s no honor to be found in the prison camp. You just dislike Renshou Village for being remote. But it sits at the junction of three counties—so much contraband passes through. If you build good relations with these people…”

Peng Jingyi suddenly understood. “I see, uncle. I dare not object. I’ll prepare my things at once and leave Third Zhang’s matters in your care.”

Peng Cheng grinned wryly. “In the yamen, money talks, but connections matter more. Now that Scribe Zhao isn’t troubling those brothers anymore, why worry about overturning the case?”

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtain, casting dappled patterns across the room. Just as a beam of light fell on Zhang Yue’s face, he finally woke from his slumber to the familiar hubbub outside his window.

Dawn had barely broken, yet already pilgrims climbing the mountain and merchants traveling in and out of Min were setting off, passing along the new street of Shuinan.

Unlike his second brother, Zhang Yue was well accustomed to such urban bustle. The cacophony of voices made the world feel alive, full of the warmth of daily life; it was anything but bothersome to him—if anything, he slept even better because of it.

These past two days, Zhang Yue had finally stopped staying at the constable’s home and had returned to rest at his own house.

He had not been idle. He read through the entirety of Mencius and half-heartedly memorized it; except for a few mistakes, he had nearly learned it by heart. The effect was far better than when he tried to study while awake.

At this thought, Zhang Yue could not help but sigh to himself. Ouyang Xiu once said, “Most of what I wrote in my life was composed in three settings: on horseback, in bed, and on the toilet.” But as for himself… Would his journey to officialdom be answered only after waking from a dream?

After rising early, he read Mencius once more but found himself overcome by drowsiness after only a few lines, his mind clouded. All he wanted was to lie back down for another sleep.

Reaching this point, Zhang Yue grew angry with himself. Was he only fit to study in his dreams?

He put down the book and started counting on his fingers. His eldest brother had been away in Jianyang for several days already. He’d left with little money and still there was no word from him.

Now, as the market dispersed, the house finally quieted for a moment. In the mountain regions of Min, summer arrived early, and the cicadas sang incessantly. Zhang Yue felt the upstairs room growing stuffy.

He took off his robe, leaving only a thin summer shirt, which helped a little with the heat.

Perhaps it was the height of summer, but he found himself particularly drained. As soon as he got up, he was so hungry it felt as if his stomach was glued to his back. Fortunately, there was still half a basket of eggs given by the neighbors, firewood ready to use, and a borrowed pot.

Zhang Yue cooked for himself, boiling two eggs in plain water.

His stomach rumbling, he borrowed a bowl, and with soy sauce, shredded ginger, and a dash of vinegar, concocted a dipping sauce. He ate the eggs greedily, not sparing a drop of the sauce.

Just then, the courtyard gate creaked open. Zhang Yue got up to see who it was—his elder brother, Zhang Shi, had returned.

Delighted, Zhang Yue looked more closely and saw a donkey cart by the roadside. The curtain was drawn back, and a slightly plump woman in her thirties stepped down, holding a five- or six-year-old boy, with Zhang Shi helping at her side.

Zhang Yue slapped his forehead, recalling from memory that this was his sister-in-law, Lady Yu, and the boy was his little nephew, Zhang Qiu, nicknamed Axi.

He hurried over and bowed. “Greetings, Brother, Sister-in-law.”

Zhang Shi was busy settling the fare while Lady Yu nodded. “On the way, Shi kept praising you, Uncle. To be able to negotiate with someone like Scribe Zhao is truly impressive in his eyes.”

At this, Zhang Yue was a little embarrassed. “Elder Brother exaggerates my abilities.”

Lady Yu’s smile faded. “With your second brother’s reckless behavior, our family is no longer what it was. You must shoulder more responsibility for your brothers now.”

“What’s the use of saying that?” Zhang Shi interrupted as he finished settling the fare.

Lady Yu glanced at Zhang Shi, wanting to say more but refrained.

Zhang Yue said, “Sister-in-law is right. You must be tired from the journey, please come inside and rest.”

Zhang Shi and Lady Yu entered the house. Zhang Yue looked at Zhang Qiu, who hid behind his mother, and said with a smile, “Axi, why so shy after just a few days apart?”

Zhang Qiu smiled bashfully and followed his mother inside.

Zhang Yue brought out some chairs. Lady Yu sat at the table and remarked with a smile, “I remember the house was emptied by Scribe Zhao when I left. I suppose you borrowed all these things from our neighbors?”

Zhang Yue replied, “I didn’t even have to ask. The constable arranged everything, including these pots and bowls.”

Zhang Shi nodded. “We’ve relied heavily on them these days. We must remember this kindness.”

Zhang Yue nodded obediently. “Yes, Brother.”

Lady Yu’s attitude softened. “Where have you been eating these days, Uncle?”

Zhang Yue respectfully replied, “At the constable’s house.”

Lady Yu said, “There’s a box of Jianyang pastries in our luggage. Please take them to the constable’s home later.”

Zhang Shi laughed, “My wife is always generous.”

Lady Yu went to the kitchen to prepare the meal, sending Zhang Shi out to buy some vegetables.

In the past, the Zhang family had servants to cook, and Lady Yu’s hands had never touched kitchen work. But she was not entirely unpracticed—when she married, tradition required the bride to cook for three days as part of ancient custom.

There’s a poem: “For three days, the bride enters the kitchen, washing her hands to prepare soup. Not knowing her mother-in-law’s tastes, she first has her sister-in-law taste it.” This describes the cunning of a new bride, who, uncertain of her mother-in-law’s preferences, cleverly has her sister-in-law try the food first.

Lady Yu, though born to a wealthy family, was quite capable and cooked an excellent meal.

Soon, Zhang Shi returned with vegetables, a salted fish, and a slab of cured pork.

Lady Yu frowned, “The fish is fine, but the meat is unnecessary.”

“The butcher had leftovers and it wasn’t expensive. Besides, the journey was hard—we deserve a treat. We’ll be more frugal in the future,” Zhang Shi replied with a forced smile.

Lady Yu finished cooking, laid out the dishes, and sliced the meat. Zhang Yue helped set the table and serve the rice.

As Zhang Shi ate, he asked, “Third Brother, I see you’ve posted a notice at the door. Has anyone come to inquire about the house?”

Zhang Yue replied, “A few families have looked, but none offered more than a hundred and twenty strings of cash. The constable invited the abbot of Huanghua Temple to see it. The monks are willing to buy it for a hundred and fifty strings, or pawn it for fifty, and either way, they’ll rent it back to us for two hundred coins a month. I didn’t dare decide without you, Brother.”

Sister-in-law said, “A month is neither long nor short, but at the moment it’s a fair price. We still owe Scribe Zhao more than a hundred strings—selling the house would settle that debt.”

Zhang Shi said, “This is our ancestral home. If we sell it, the neighbors will say we’re unfilial. My father-in-law lent us fifty strings this time; maybe we can borrow more from friends and relatives. Better to pawn it than sell.”

Lady Yu said, “Shi, the shop just burned down, and we have no income. If we spend all our money, how will we support the family?”

Zhang Shi replied, “I have my hands and feet—I’m not afraid of hard work. We won’t have to sell the ancestral home. Besides, you agreed to live frugally from now on.”

Lady Yu’s eyes reddened. “Yes, as they say, ‘Marry a chicken, follow a chicken; marry a dog, follow a dog.’ I’m not a woman unwilling to endure hardship with you.”

“But what did your father say before we left? That fifty strings were your stake for starting anew. If we spend it all, where will we borrow from next time? Or will we have to sell the ancestral home after all?”

Hearing this, Zhang Yue realized the family’s predicament and remained silent.

Zhang Shi flushed and said, “I’ll borrow more from friends and neighbors. I won’t let you and our son suffer.”

Lady Yu scoffed, “Please. When Scribe Zhao came to collect the debt, did any of your so-called friends help? Didn’t Manager Ma from the carriage house claim to be your sworn brother? The moment he heard you’d angered Scribe Zhao, he pretended to be ill and avoided you. And what about Deputy Chen, whom you helped so many times when he was short of funds? How much has he gained from our family over the years? Yet when we were in trouble, he was nowhere to be found. And Officer Xu at the yamen—always boasting about his connections and asking for gifts—when our family faced disaster, did he lift a finger? Last year, when my father needed help in Pucheng and you asked Officer Xu to smooth things over, he demanded thirty strings and made it seem a great favor to us. But when my father sent someone else, it only cost five strings, and they were full of gratitude. Now, with the house, are you hoping your family will help again?”

Zhang Shi slammed the table and stood, chest heaving with anger. “If I, Zhang Shi, starve to death, I won’t trouble my father-in-law. You nag and complain endlessly—aren’t you tired of it?”

How predictable, Zhang Yue thought wryly to himself.

Lady Yu wept silently.

Little Zhang Qiu tugged her hand, swaying it gently. “Mother, don’t cry. I still have a few coins from my candy money. Take them, please don’t scold Father.”

Zhang Shi said, “My dear, our business must rely on the yamen’s favor. We had no choice but to offend Scribe Zhao. And as for friends, it’s a kindness if they help, but no fault if they don’t. You speak as if I only make friends for favors, weighing every relationship.”

Unable to hold back, Zhang Yue chimed in, “Sister-in-law, the constable and neighbors have helped us a great deal this time—all because of Brother’s generosity in ordinary days.”

Lady Yu looked at him. “No need to defend your brother, Uncle. He’s spoiled you and your second brother enough over the years. He hired the most respected scholars and teachers for your second brother, spending three or five strings of cash just on gifts. Our family had some foundation, but how could it withstand such expenses? Do you know how much your brother has borrowed from my family over the years? He never let you know any of it.”

Borrowing from the in-laws to patch up family finances—Zhang Yue glanced at his brother, uncertain whether his silence was from wounded pride or anger.

“Our hopes were pinned on your second brother’s studies, but he landed us in this disaster. And you, always finding ways to spend money, playing the gentleman among your classmates, running around with Peng Jingyi and his ilk, spending more each year than your second brother at the county school. If not for your extravagance, our family wouldn’t be in this predicament…”

Zhang Yue was left speechless by the rebuke.

At that moment, Zhang Shi slammed the table, snapping, “If you want to blame someone, blame me. Why drag Third Brother into this? If you think he’s no good, it’s my fault as the elder. If you wish, take Axi and go back to your family.”

“Exactly. You brothers are one family; only I am the outsider,” Lady Yu said through tears.

Zhang Shi hung his head for a long moment before finally saying, “My dear, don’t scold Third Brother anymore. It’s my fault.”

Lady Yu, seeing him thus, hugged Zhang Qiu and wiped her tears, apologizing, “Uncle, I spoke out of turn. Please don’t take it to heart.”

Zhang Shi said, “Sister-in-law, all our troubles are due to my past failings. I know there’s no use in words now, but please, don’t quarrel over small things. Brother, please help me persuade her.”

He knew his earlier words had been harsh, but he still refused to yield on the matter of selling the house.

As they were speaking, there was a knock at the door.

Lady Yu turned away, ignoring it. Zhang Shi, still fuming, went to open the door.

He said, “Oh? Who is it? Officer Xu, what brings you here?”

“Officer” was a military rank, but in common parlance it was used as a respectful term for yamen constables.

Zhang Shi’s tone was flat. Zhang Yue recalled that this Officer Xu was the very one his sister-in-law had mentioned—always acting like a brother to Zhang Shi, accepting many favors, but disappearing the moment their family offended Scribe Zhao.

Despite Zhang Shi’s indifference, Officer Xu merely smiled. “Shi, can’t I drop by for a visit when I’m free?”

“I wouldn’t dare. I’ve just returned and am tired, so I may not be the best host.”

Officer Xu grinned. “Then I’ll keep it brief and not come in. I’m here on official business—a piece of good news. The yamen has overturned the verdict on your shop’s fire.”