The best tavern in Tianshu Ward was called Muxin Tower.
Muxin Tower had nothing particularly special about its exterior, but it had one attraction that drew customers—you could eat for free. Of course, there were conditions. Only by meeting these conditions could you enjoy a free meal.
The conditions were clearly posted at the entrance of the tavern on a small plaque with gold characters. The wooden frame had faded, obviously hanging there for many years, apparently unafraid of being bankrupted by countless people meeting the conditions.
Mo Zi was reading it aloud for the illiterate Zan Jin and Chouyu: “Touch wood and guess correctly—five out of five guesses earns free wine; fifteen out of fifteen guesses earns free wine and food.” Just as she finished reading, cheers erupted from inside the tavern.
Chouyu was very excited, jumping and pointing inside. “Brother Mo, even if we don’t try guessing, it’s good to watch the excitement.”
Touch wood, huh? Mo Zi smiled. “Eating while watching entertainment—no wonder this place does such good business. What they’re probably profiting from is the crowd drawn by this spectacle.”
Minsong hesitated. “I’ve heard Muxin Tower is very expensive. Let’s just find a regular food shop.”
“If it’s expensive, we’ll just eat less.” Mo Zi only planned to watch the excitement, not become part of it.
“Exactly! Order four big bowls of plain noodles—how expensive could that be? Besides, where else can you eat while watching such entertainment? Wangqiu Tower doesn’t count.” Chouyu winked.
“Wu You Pavilion doesn’t count either.” Mo Zi winked back.
Laughing together, the two walked inside.
Minsong was still suggesting they change places, but seeing Zan Jin also walk in, he could only sigh and slowly follow at the rear.
Muxin Tower had only two floors. Its structure followed the principle of “round heaven, square earth”—the ground floor was an open hall, the upper floor had elegant seating, but no private rooms. At the very back of the hall was a stage-like area with a storyteller’s table and wooden clappers, with a pipa and erhu in the corner. Presumably when no one was challenging the wood-touching game, these helped boost business.
When Mo Zi’s group of four entered, someone on stage was blindfolded, touching a round log segment as thick as an arm with bark still attached, loudly calling out two characters: “Wutong!” Applause erupted.
With bark still on it, that would be easier to guess.
A young server approached with a smiling face. Not noticing the one lagging behind, he only saw the one in front. “Distinguished guests, would you like the hall or the elegant seating?”
“The hall.” The elegant seating would cost more. Mo Zi turned to her three companions. “Don’t order noodles. At least get four dishes, one soup, and two pots of wine. I can still afford this much silver.”
Zan Jin loved food, Chouyu loved wine—both were delighted.
The three sat down to order dishes. Only then did Minsong arrive.
“A’Song, each person orders one dish. What would you like to eat?” Ordinary taverns didn’t have menus. As long as it was a normal dish, they’d make it fresh as soon as you ordered. If they couldn’t make it, they’d refuse directly and have you change your order. In modern times, such a place probably couldn’t stay open for two days. Modern people had been spoiled—if suddenly asked to recite dish names, most could only name home-cooked dishes. Why go to a restaurant for that?
The young server casually glanced at the late-arriving Minsong, then suddenly stood up straight. “Young Master Song!”
Hearing this, Mo Zi’s gaze moved between the server and Minsong. Oh? They knew each other?
“A’Song, I thought you were like Brother Mo said—staying at Risheng all day without going out. Turns out you’re quite the lively fellow too, eh?” Chouyu laughed heartily.
“Young Master Song, I’ll go call the manager.” Without waiting for Minsong to stop him, the server ran off.
“Don’t tell me your family owns this tavern.” It was said that the Min family had many business ventures, and seeing the server go call the manager, this was more than just an ordinary honored guest.
“That’s why I told you all not to come in, but no one listened to me.” He was now reduced to being a junior member—he absolutely couldn’t let his cousins back home find out, or he’d be laughed to death.
“Your family really owns this?” Chouyu immediately began tapping his chopsticks. “Brother Mo, Zan Jin—with A’Song here, if we don’t eat and drink our fill today, we’d be doing ourselves a disservice!” He looked thoroughly greedy, ready to freeload.
Zan Jin, who hadn’t said much all day, let alone nagged, finally spoke for once. “He’s A’Song now, not Young Master Song.”
Mo Zi said with a laugh, “That’s right. A’Song is a boatman. How could he afford wine money? Unless he goes on stage to touch wood.”
Seeing the three of them laughing at him, Minsong simply steeled his heart and threw caution to the wind. “Following Brother Mo here, how could I possibly get to show off? If anyone’s touching wood, it should be Brother Mo.” Let his family find out if they wanted—they’d understand Mo Zi’s abilities eventually anyway.
“I don’t have the skill to guess wood blindfolded. I’m not going up there to embarrass myself.” Mo Zi tilted her head to watch the man on stage. Hearing the crowd’s calls, she said, “Oh, he’s guessed the third one correctly. I say, today Muxin Tower will have to give someone a free drink.”
“I’d say that’s not necessarily so.” Laughter came from behind, and the person had already reached Mo Zi. “Young Master Song, it’s rare to see you bring friends.”
Minsong grimaced. Since the man called them friends, he’d play dumb and accept it. “Manager Sun is so busy, you didn’t need to come over specially to greet me.”
Manager Sun, a shrewd-looking man in his early thirties, rubbed his hands together. “When a young master from our family comes, how could I not pay my respects? Young Master Song, today hunters from the mountains sent quite a bit of game. Shall I prepare you a table to try something fresh? A couple days ago, the old master came to buy lumber and ate here. I didn’t see you then, so I asked the old master about it. He said Young Master Song had taken a good master and was learning his craft.”
Hearing about a table of game, Minsong had been about to nod unconsciously. But Manager Sun’s subsequent words made him somewhat embarrassed. He gave two coughs and mumbled vaguely to gloss over it.
Unfortunately, this manager had more to say. “Young Master Song, in a few days I’m returning home with the old master to submit the account books. Do you have any messages or letters you want me to take to Fifth Master and Fifth Madam, or Young Masters Hua and Feng?”
Just what he was afraid of. Minsong said flatly that he had none.
Chouyu loved to joke around. Seeing Minsong dodging left and right, he deliberately went against him. “Manager Sun, when you see A’Song’s parents, tell them that although he couldn’t endure hardship and ran away once, he’s fortunately turned over a new leaf in time. His master has already forgiven him. From now on, he’ll definitely study hard, won’t return home until he’s mastered his craft, and won’t take a wife either.”
Mo Zi couldn’t help but laugh at that last statement, pretending to prop up her hand to watch the wood-guessing while actually hiding her amusement.
Hearing Chouyu’s words, Manager Sun froze. His eyes rolled over them, thinking: Young Master Song’s new friends have such a common marketplace air about them. Should he inform Old Master Minyu, lest the Min family’s promising young descendant be led astray?
Minsong coughed heavily twice. “Manager Sun, don’t listen to his nonsense. When you see my parents, just tell them I’m doing well and will come see them during New Year’s. As for my two younger brothers, you don’t need to say anything.”
Manager Sun was somewhat doubtful, but he had to obey the young master’s words and quickly agreed.
“Don’t ask me about ordering. I’m not the host today—ask her.” Minsong pointed his index finger at Mo Zi.
Manager Sun was even more puzzled. When Min family members came here, it wasn’t exactly all-you-can-eat, but it would go on an account book. However, as long as expenses were reasonable, no one would investigate endlessly. But when Minsong came, he was letting someone else treat him? Was this the usually generous Young Master Song?
Mo Zi didn’t care whether Manager Sun found it strange or not. She ordered some affordable dishes, skipped the soup, and added two more pots of wine.
“Young Master Song, one more thing—Boss Zeng is also dining here today. If you’d like to greet him—” To help accumulate connections for their young master, Manager Sun was quite dedicated.
“No need. We’ll leave after eating. Don’t mention it to Boss Zeng either.” Minsong had no good feelings toward anyone surnamed Zeng—he was someone who loved to take advantage, only caring about profit.
Manager Sun withdrew.
In the time they’d been talking, the wood-touching man had guessed wrong and left the stage dejectedly.
“A’Song, why does your tavern have such a rule?” Purely to attract customers? It didn’t quite seem that way to her.
“It’s been too long—I’m not clear on it either. By now, it’s just as you all said—for excitement, to attract attention. But touching wood is completely a matter of luck. Forget getting a meal free—even getting the wine free rarely happens. I say this rule should have been abolished long ago.” Minsong found it pointless.
A young server came to bring wine. Hearing Minsong say this, he replied, “Young Master Song, someone once guessed all correctly. It was Fifth Master himself. When he was your age, he ran out alone to gain experience, came to our tavern, drank a huge jar of wine, then went on stage and got fifteen out of fifteen. However, after sobering up, he touched again and only got ten out of fifteen. There’ll be a storyteller later who tells it better than me.”
Minsong froze, clearly never having heard this story before.
“Actually, touching wood isn’t as difficult as you all say. Every tree species has different bark. As long as you have rich experience and have seen and touched enough, naturally you can guess with your eyes closed.” Mo Zi spoke casually, but accidentally her voice was somewhat loud.
Some gossip-loving customers in the hall heard it and passed it around among themselves.
By the time Mo Zi’s group was halfway through their meal, a fat face with sagging jowls appeared at the railing of the elegant seating on the second floor, leaning there and shouting—
“Who just said touching wood was simple?”
Minsong glanced up and lowered his head. “What’s that fellow Zeng Hai trying to do?”
Mo Zi also saw Zeng Hai. Their eyes met. Not having Minsong’s backing, she very politely nodded in greeting.
“Ah—isn’t this our great hero Brother Mo, Steward Mo, who passed three trials in succession? I wondered who would speak so arrogantly? If it’s you, Mo San’er, saying this, I’d believe seven or eight parts of it.” His beady eyes were clearly disdainful.
The diners at Muxin Tower weren’t mostly from the boat business and didn’t know about any three trials. They only felt that the young fellow who said touching wood was simple was indeed too arrogant.
Mo Zi guessed that Zeng Hai had mostly heard she was here and was deliberately looking for trouble. This person had spoken viciously to her at Risheng—narrow-minded and short-sighted. She hadn’t bothered with him, but he still wouldn’t let it rest.
“Boss Zeng, I didn’t say touching wood was simple, I only—” She couldn’t finish her sentence.
Because Zeng Hai rudely interrupted her. “So many customers in this tavern—whether you said it or not, everyone knows in their hearts. Brother Mo isn’t as straightforward as last time today. Could it be you regret speaking so improperly? If I weren’t here, out of sight, out of mind. But Brother Mo, speaking so arrogantly, I’m extremely displeased.”
Mo Zi’s eyes narrowed. This Zeng—what trouble was he trying to cause her? Speaking improperly, speaking arrogantly—piling one accusatory hat after another on her head, he definitely wasn’t planning to do a good deed.