A’Shui stared at him intently, her eyelashes lowering slightly then lifting again. “True, but though it’s confusion, many things can’t be compensated for with just saying ‘confusion’…” Fu Zhumei pulled over a chair and sat down, cupping his chin as he gazed ahead. “Actually, I also can’t understand how A’Yan and A’Li ended up like this today. Perhaps… perhaps it’s all my fault.” A’Shui smiled slightly, following his gaze toward the front. “How could it be? People in the martial world are always unable to help themselves. Though this saying is common, it’s never wrong. Whose life, whose choices, whose future—though we can’t blame everything on ourselves, we also can’t blame everything on others.” Fu Zhumei shook his head but said nothing more, staring blankly at Fengfeng in A’Shui’s arms. “Whose child is this? A’Yan’s? A’Li’s?”
A’Shui said gently, “This is Hao Wenhou’s child.” Fu Zhumei exclaimed “Ah,” his face full of embarrassment. “I never know how to speak properly. Sorry, I thought… I thought they easily got involved with girls… ah…” The more he spoke, the more wrong he got. He shrank backward, and that simple chair suddenly swayed and fell backward with him on it, hitting the ground with a thud as the back of his head struck heavily.
“Mmm…” Fengfeng had been sleeping but was suddenly awakened by this loud noise. Opening his eyes to see Fu Zhumei scrambling up in a disheveled state, he suddenly beamed with joy, pointing at Fu Zhumei, “Wu wu… wu wu…” A’Shui originally didn’t want to laugh, but finally smiled slightly, though the smile was very bitter. What could she say about this? “They are both handsome and elegant beautiful men, both wielding significant power, naturally deeply admired by women. It can’t be said they’re frivolous.” Fu Zhumei had a huge bump on the back of his head from hitting the ground, his hair even more disheveled. He climbed up and still sat in that chair. “No, no, they’re not good to girls. They’ve had many lovers. It’s best if it’s not A’Li and A’Yan’s child.” A’Shui’s heart stirred slightly. “It’s best if it’s not their child?”
“A’Li and A’Yan would neither be good fathers,” Fu Zhumei’s large, clear eyes looked at her, “nor good husbands.” A’Shui nodded, her mood suddenly lightening. “Little Fu.” Fu Zhumei had a strand of messy hair hanging by his cheek. Hearing this, he raised his head, that strand swaying by his cheek, quite childish. “Hmm?” She looked at him with some amusement. “Would you be a good father?”
“Yes.” Fu Zhumei said decisively, then shook his head. “But no one likes me.” A’Shui sighed softly. “What about your turtle? Why do you keep a turtle?” Fu Zhumei looked at her strangely. “You know I keep a turtle?” She nodded. He spread his hands, gesturing the width of a table. “Because I’ve never seen such a big turtle! You don’t know how surprised I was when I saw it in the mountains, and how long it took me to drive it out and bring it to Luoyang to raise.” She looked at him in surprise. “You drove the turtle out from which mountain?” Fu Zhumei said, “Just that mountain in Luoyang’s suburbs. I forgot what it’s called, but the turtle only took eight days to walk from the mountain to the city—it crawled very fast! Now it sleeps under my bed and generally won’t get up unless called.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. This person was really strange. You couldn’t say he was stupid—he wasn’t stupid—but you absolutely couldn’t call him clever either. Even though he was Tang Lici’s brother, a martial world person who knew martial arts, he didn’t have a trace of martial world air about him, not even half a point of excellence. Why would Tang Lici hate such a person? Talking and laughing with him had no pressure at all. This person suddenly thought of the east, suddenly thought of the west, with no logic in his mind and no amazing achievements. Perhaps most people wouldn’t appreciate such a man, but she truly liked him. “Thank you so much just now for saving my child.” She poured Fu Zhumei a cup of tea. “But didn’t you say you’d come tonight? How did you come in broad daylight? Is everything finished at the restaurant?”
“Yes, yes,” Fu Zhumei took the teacup and drank it in one gulp, handing the cup back to her for another. “I still have many vegetables to cut, many fish not yet killed, but I saw someone following you when you left and was a bit worried, so I came to check.” He suddenly remembered there was still work undone at the restaurant, hurriedly stood up, no longer drinking tea. “I’m leaving, I’m leaving, or master will scold me again.”
“Go, go,” A’Shui brushed the scallion pieces from his clothes. “I really don’t know about Young Master Tang’s affairs, but if you’re truly worried about him, you should still go see him.” She said softly, “Silver Horn Restaurant ultimately won’t be a place for you to stay long. Don’t let unrelated matters delay what you truly care about in your heart.” Fu Zhumei seemed to freeze for a moment, rubbed his head, smiled shyly, and hurried away.
Why would Little Fu be Tang Lici’s brother? She gently patted Fengfeng, unable to avoid a trace of regret in her heart. If Little Fu was just Little Fu, didn’t know martial arts and didn’t know Tang Lici, wouldn’t that be wonderful?
The sky gradually turned to dusk, the setting sun’s afterglow reflecting on the high walls of Luoyang’s urban area, appearing clean and peaceful.
Fu Zhumei hurried back toward Silver Horn Restaurant. Rounding two street corners, quite a few people on the road greeted him, all knowing he was Little Fu from Silver Horn Restaurant. But he absent-mindedly responded with a few “ah”s, rushing along without looking sideways. The people on the street all laughed, long accustomed to Little Fu being just this scatterbrained, and weren’t angry.
Returning to the restaurant, before stepping into the kitchen, the manager grabbed him at the door. “Aiyou! I pay you two taels of silver each month, where the hell did you disappear to? Do you want me to waste silver and have people in the kitchen do your work too? You’re not some young lady I bought to keep around for amusement. My ancestor, please just work peacefully! Next time I see you going out to fool around, I’ll braise that turtle of yours and eat it!” Fu Zhumei’s face showed alarmed color, nodding repeatedly, but didn’t say what he had gone to do. The manager, seeing his panicked face, felt somewhat satisfied. “Today the guests ordered ‘Mountain and Sea Purple Dawn Cloud Painted Tripod Furnace.'” Little Fu nodded again. This “Mountain and Sea Purple Dawn Cloud Painted Tripod Furnace” was Silver Horn’s famous soup pot dish—the huge soup pot with complex soup ingredients could only be carried by Little Fu among all the restaurant staff.
“I’ll go carry the soup.”
Seeing Little Fu so obediently compliant, the manager patted his shoulder and walked away leisurely with hands behind his back.
Silver Horn Restaurant’s main hall was always lively, but today it was exceptionally quiet. Over ten tables seating ten people each were completely empty, with only a few shadowy figures in the “Scholarly Fragrance Residence” room in the northwest corner of the second floor. Fu Zhumei carried the soup pot weighing dozens of pounds slowly up to the second floor. The soup pot held charcoal fire and dozens of various colored soup ingredients. He carried it very carefully, step by step walking into Scholarly Fragrance Residence.
In the room was a purple sandalwood hexagonal table, its six legs carved in the shape of deer heads with deer lips touching the ground—an extremely rare design. Six purple sandalwood chairs were arranged around it, but only three people were seated. Many dishes had already been served on the table, but they hadn’t been much touched. In the seat facing the door sat a Taoist with three long whiskers. To the Taoist’s left, a purple-robed large man was drinking wine. To his right sat someone wearing a white porcelain mask, not revealing his true face. As Fu Zhumei entered and saw these people, he seemed to freeze for a moment, the soup pot in his hands swaying slightly. The purple-robed large man in the room tilted his head back drinking wine, not even glancing in his direction from the corner of his eye, but with his right hand grabbed the outer robe draped on the chair back, shook it once and caught it, firmly supporting the soup pot in Fu Zhumei’s hands. He exclaimed “Ah,” hurriedly set the soup pot properly on the table, and quickly retreated.
The purple-robed large man glanced at the soup pot and laughed, “What a heavy thing! At least sixty pounds! That young man just now has good arm strength—carrying this thing up to the second floor without even making the stairs shake.” The three-whiskered Taoist nodded, but his thoughts weren’t on this soup pot. Instead, he looked at the porcelain-masked person. “You invited us here to discuss something, but we don’t know what exactly?” It turned out this three-whiskered Taoist had the Taoist name “Void,” and the purple-robed large man was surnamed Ma. Speaking of “Void Taoist” and “Three Spears Returning Horse” Ma Shengxiong, they were famous names in the capital. These two were newly hired guards of the Prime Minister’s residence, with considerable reputation in the martial world and high martial arts skills. Last night at the third watch, someone had entered the Prime Minister’s residence at night, leaving a letter by Zhao Pu’s bedside, arranging to meet the two protectors today at Silver Horn Restaurant. The night intruder’s skills were so superb that if he had wanted Zhao Pu’s life, it would have been effortless. Therefore, though Void Taoist and Ma Shengxiong knew they were no match, they still came punctually to the appointment, full of doubts.
“To discuss a small matter.” The porcelain-masked person held a wine cup but didn’t drink. “I heard Prime Minister Zhao recently met with Dong Hubei once. What did they discuss? You two were Dong Hubei’s introducers—you shouldn’t be unaware, right?” Void Taoist was startled. “Dong Hubei?” Dong Hubei had indeed met Zhao Pu once some days ago, but this matter was extremely secret. How could this porcelain-masked person know? The porcelain-masked person leaned back in his chair. Even though his expression couldn’t be seen, it was clear he didn’t regard Void Taoist and Ma Shengxiong highly. “What did they discuss?” Ma Shengxiong’s wine cup hit the table heavily with a “smack.” “Though you cleverly left notes by the bedside, you needn’t be so arrogant. How would we know what the Prime Minister discussed with his guests? Even if we knew, we couldn’t tell you.” The implication was that for such mysterious guests of unknown origin as the porcelain-masked person, affairs of the Prime Minister’s residence naturally couldn’t be revealed.
“Is that so?” The porcelain-masked person’s tone was very bland. “You’re not afraid that tonight by Zhao Pu’s bedside… haha…” He poured himself a cup of wine and drank it in one gulp, not continuing. Ma Shengxiong’s color changed. With this person’s martial arts skills, if he wanted to kill Zhao Pu, truly no one in the Prime Minister’s residence could stop him. “You—who exactly are you? What exactly are your intentions toward the Prime Minister?” The porcelain-masked person said coldly, “I’m only interested in what Zhao Pu and Dong Hubei actually discussed when they met.” Ma Shengxiong and Void Taoist exchanged glances. Void Taoist coughed lightly. “What the Prime Minister and Senior Dong actually discussed, we truly don’t know. We only know Senior Dong gave the Prime Minister a letter.” The porcelain-masked person said, “A letter? What was written in the letter?” Void Taoist shook his head. “This… given our positions, we truly don’t know.”
“Where did the Prime Minister place the letter?” the porcelain-masked person asked. Ma Shengxiong angrily said, “The Taoist and I aren’t spies—how would we know where the Prime Minister put the letter? You—” The porcelain-masked person struck the table with a “bang.” The purple sandalwood hexagonal table split into six pieces with the sound, the six pieces uniform in size and neat, but didn’t collapse, still steadily supporting the dishes on the table. Ma Shengxiong had been about to curse angrily, but seeing this, all his indignation shrank back. He opened his mouth wide, not knowing what to say. “Where is the letter?” the porcelain-masked person asked blandly. Void Taoist sighed deeply. “Don’t know.” The porcelain-masked person said sinisterly, “Do you want to be an ungrateful loyal dog, or do you truly not know?” Ma Shengxiong could no longer endure it. He slammed the table and stood up. With a series of crackling sounds, the dazzling array of delicacies on the table fell to the floor, and the purple sandalwood hexagonal table collapsed with his strike. “No matter what kind of expert you are, you’re going too far! Not to mention that outsiders shouldn’t be asking about the Prime Minister’s affairs—just based on your contemptuous attitude, even if this Ma isn’t your match, I absolutely can’t swallow this insult!” The porcelain-masked person sat motionless, asking coldly, “What do you want to do?”