Junger Premierminister, ein Einsiedler

Kapitel 4

Only then did people understand Su Zimin's intention in setting up the "Feast at Hongmen"—he wanted everyone to keep quiet and let him seize the village elder's property by trickery and force. They were indignant, but they all remained silent, and the air in the room froze.

"Come on, drink up—" Su Zimin raised his glass high, "Don't be shy!"

After a few rounds of drinks, he said again, "The clan fields and mu fields are the common property of the whole village. I will not touch them, so everyone can rest assured."

After a long while, someone finally stammered, "What about your aunt and Yang Hong?"

The subject said, "My aunt is like my own mother, and I will be filial to her; Yang Hong and Xiao Yu are like my sisters, and I will treat them well as well as well. Besides, I still need Yang Hong to make a living..."

With Zhai Lun dead, Yang Hong felt like he had lost a great tree supporting him; coupled with the busyness and turmoil of the past few days, and the constant kowtowing.

He knelt down, feeling dizzy and disoriented; his mind and body couldn't hold on any longer, and when he got home, he lay in bed for two days straight.

After his condition improved slightly, his master came to see him and said, "You should formally accept the position of village chief."

In the Su family ancestral hall, the pine torches shone a deep red, and incense smoke curled from the shrine, where three sacrificial animals, painted red, were offered. The flames of the pine torches crackled and hissed, transforming into seven colors. The shaman twirled his ritual knife in the air, and the rooster's head in his hand shot out two zhang (approximately 6.6 meters) with a "whoosh." Before it could even crow, the gushing blood had already stained the old rice wine in the jar a dark red.

The shaman held the headless chicken upside down, making it sway and jump in the blue smoke of the paper money. Suddenly it stopped, closed its eyes, and muttered incantations. After finishing the jumping and chanting, he roared, "Kneel down!" The "chiefs" of each small village and the "deacons" of each branch and house in Qingzhu Village immediately knelt down, bowing three times and kowtowing nine times before the ancestral tablets. The shaman poured dark red rice wine into a row of earthenware bowls, solemnly raising the bowls above his head:

"We declare our sincerity before our ancestors:"

From this day forward, we shall follow the new village chief Yang Hong, work together to ensure the safety and prosperity of our village for generations to come!

Yang Hong stood before the crowd, visibly moved: "I have no special abilities, I have relied entirely on everyone's support. From now on, I will do my utmost to serve everyone!"

Then, he read the "village covenant" again, instructing everyone to act in accordance with the rules passed down from their ancestors: benevolence and righteousness come first, filial piety is fundamental; do not take what is not yours, do not do what is improper; interact with each other with virtue, live in harmony with your neighbors; protect each other, and seek peace together.

After he finished reading, he noticed that the "deacons" from the various branches of the Su family in Qingzhu Village were looking at him with unease, as if something was wrong. They opened their mouths but said nothing.

As he walked out of the ancestral hall, the elder deacon, Su Changli, suddenly leaned close to him and whispered, "You have to be careful!"

He was completely baffled and was about to ask for clarification when Su Changli turned around and walked away.

Soon, he discovered that the cash register was empty, the ledgers and seals were gone, and the "royal cards" made at the bamboo shoot farm were also missing. When he asked the farmhand, Old Hu, Old Hu said, "Ask Zimin; he's in charge now."

He asked Zimin with great suspicion, but Zimin pretended to be surprised and asked in return: "What, didn't your aunt tell you?"

Tell me what?

"Leave everything at home to me, you don't need to worry about anything. Come to the bamboo shoot farm, we'll need you to make the best bamboo shoots—"

"What's the meaning?

"Isn't it obvious?" Zimin said with a forced smile, "You're a master at the bamboo shoot farm, or a villager, so nobody's going to compete with you or fight you for it, right?"

Yang Hong finally realized that while he was busy with the funeral and inheriting the position of village chief, Su Zimin had already seized all the family property.

Yang Hong felt a tightness in his chest, but couldn't utter a word. Zimin sneered, ignored him, and walked away on his own.

Shi Gong passed by and saw Yang Hong standing motionless in a daze, so he stretched out his five fingers and waved them in front of Yang Hong's eyes, then shook his arm:

What's wrong with you?

"...I...I can't swallow this!" Yang Hong's anger suddenly erupted. "I'm the village chief, I refuse to believe I can't beat him!"

"What happened?"

"This guy... climbed onto my head and peed on it..."

"Yang Hong recounted what had happened while cursing, and said fiercely, "I'm going to call the chief and the deacons to settle accounts with the people!"

“Even an upright official can’t settle family disputes. The village elder died suddenly, without time to arrange his funeral. He’s surnamed Su, and you’re surnamed Yang, how can you clear your names? Besides, Zimin didn’t steal or rob; the village matriarch entrusted everything to him and asked him to manage things.” The master advised Yang Hong, “I heard that Zimin has already warned people not to meddle. Now that he’s rich and powerful, who would want to get into trouble? So, the leaders and stewards might not follow you!”

"Are we just going to let him run rampant?" Yang Hongyu was still furious.

"Didn't the village elder tell you anything before he got into trouble?"

"No.

"Calm down and think about it calmly—"

"...That day, after paying respects to our ancestors, he pointed to the incense burner on the shrine and said to me, 'No one is allowed to touch this thing; it will help you in case of an accident.' That was so strange; I still don't understand it..."

"Let's go take a look—" The shaman's eyes lit up. Entering the main room, he took the incense burner from the shrine, examining it closely, but found nothing special. It was an ordinary bronze incense burner, filled with grayish-white ash; nothing else. Yang Hong was disappointed. The shaman asked the village woman to fetch a dustpan. As the ash was poured out, a small cloth bundle was revealed at the bottom of the burner. Unwrapping the bundle revealed a rectangular wooden seal box. Opening the lid, inside was a silver ring larger than a thumb, its back square, engraved with the four characters "Su Changren's Seal." Also inside was a palm-sized note stamped with a red seal, which read: "After my death, all my family's property will be managed by Yang Hong."

The shaman examined the silver seal for a while and then told Yang Hong: the silver seal is a talisman for warding off evil spirits and is rarely taken out; the note is also in the village elder's own handwriting. The village elder's wife confirmed that the elder does indeed have this ring, which he only wears in important situations, serving two purposes. Respectfully accepting the silver seal and note, Yang Hong felt confident and emboldened; he knew what he had to do.

That day, after learning that Zimin and Scarface had gone to the county town, he went to the bamboo shoot farm, called Old Hu, a farmhand, aside, and reminisced about their old friendship when they worked together as farmhands. He praised Old Hu for being hardworking, loyal, and reliable, and promised to promote him to foreman.

"...You...you promoted me?..." Old Hu shook his head slightly.

"I keep my word, don't worry!" Yang Hong took out the silver seal and the note. "Look, the village chief arranged everything before he passed away—"

Old Hu was illiterate, but he could still recognize the silver seal and handwriting on the village elder's ring. After a moment of silence, he indicated that he would follow Yang Hong's instructions.

Yang Hong leaned close to his ear and gave him instructions in person.

Old Hu ran to Xiashaping and told Caihua that the people wanted her to quickly deliver the land deeds, the key to the silver cabinet, the account books, the seal, and other items to the bamboo shoot farm, as they were urgently needed.

Caihua asked, "Didn't he and Scarface go to the county town?"

Old Hu told her that they had run into a big boss on the way, and they had turned back and were discussing business in the bamboo shoot market.

Caihua knew that Lao Hu was an honest man who wouldn't utter more than two loud farts in three days, and wouldn't lie; Zimin had also said many times:

The village elder's assets would slowly turn into gleaming silver, stored in his own safe, so that no one could take it away. Today, he might be selling his bamboo shoot farm and fields to a businessman from out of town. Thinking this, Caihua quickly took out her things and rushed to the bamboo shoot farm.

Old Hu said that he had just gone in and saw that Zimin was negotiating with the boss. He told him to take the things in and told Caihua to go back and prepare some good wine and food to entertain the guests.

Caihua hurried back to work, but it was getting dark and no one had come. She went to the bamboo shoot factory and saw Yang Hong directing everyone to work. She knew something was wrong.

Zimin returned two days later, furious to learn of the drastic change in the situation. He grabbed Caihua by the hair and beat her mercilessly. Just as he was about to confront Yang Hong, Yang Hong arrived with the chieftain and his deacons. The eldest deacon, Su Changli, handed Zimin a note left by the village elder, saying, "Take a close look—"

The village elder had a rudimentary understanding of literature, and his handwriting was easily recognizable to the villagers, who felt a chill run down their spines, as if struck by a blow to the head.

Yang Hong then held out the silver ring to him and said coldly, "You're not going to say you've never seen it before, are you?"

Zimin knew, of course, that his uncle had two seals: a wooden one used for business transactions, and a silver ring seal that his uncle treasured and only occasionally displayed for important matters. Looking at the familiar handwriting and the familiar silver seal, Zimin felt as if the village elder's gaze was fixed upon him. He had schemed and plotted, yet he still couldn't escape the elder's watchful eye. Unbeknownst to him, the elder remained silent, but his meticulous arrangements for the aftermath made Zimin understand that his uncle knew everything; he had forgiven his nephew, and he had also stopped him, thwarting his nephew's plans.

The people's lips moved, but they couldn't utter a single word. Like eggplants struck by a severe frost, their heads drooped.

Yang Hong smiled tolerantly and, facing everyone, earnestly tried to persuade Zimin to stay: "Brother Zimin, the bamboo shoot farm can't do without you—I still need you to run around the docks and sell magnolia petals!"

The people understood the subtext in Yang Hong's words, shook their heads helplessly, and murmured, "I'm tired, really tired!"

05. Suddenly, a man in black emerged from the woods.

Yang Hong painstakingly managed the bamboo shoot farm, and the magnolia petals he produced were in no way inferior to those of yesteryear. However, sales were always sluggish, and even the imperial petals meant for tribute were no longer being requested by the government, which made him increasingly anxious.

One day, Mr. Tang from Guangdong arrived in the mountains with his caravan. He had delivered salt and cloth to the county town and stopped by Qingzhu Village on his way. In previous years, the bosses from the major wharves never came into the mountains; the village elders valued their reputation highly, and whether it was the "imperial bamboo shoots" they presented as tribute or the "yellow bamboo shoots" they sold to merchants, the quality was always excellent, and their brands were highly regarded. The villagers refused to help Yang Hong manage the bamboo shoot market anymore, so Yang Hong had no choice but to take over their business. However, the bosses didn't recognize him and, having heard that the village elder had died, were afraid of being scammed; even when they delivered goods, they only took a small amount, using the excuse of testing the market first. Today, Mr. Tang from Guangdong had come all the way to Qingzhu Village to inspect and verify the authenticity of the bamboo shoots, so Yang Hong naturally dared not neglect him. He spared no expense, buying all kinds of wild birds and mountain delicacies, and hiring the most renowned chef from the county town to cook. Qingzhu Village was filled with an atmosphere more festive than a holiday. Under such an atmosphere, unable to resist Yang Hong's repeated invitations, the villagers reluctantly came to the feast. He thought to himself: Yang Hong can still do business even without the help of his people, so he can't refuse their help and block their way.

The banquet was arranged in a unique way. Caihua came to help in the kitchen at the invitation of the village elder, busily buying vegetables and preparing ingredients. "Even relatives show some favoritism," the village elder thought to herself.

The large octagonal table was laden with exotic birds and delicacies, filling the room with their fragrance. After the banquet, Yang Hong asked Lao Hu to bring out various varieties of magnolia petals, such as Baojian, Dongpian, and Taopian, for Boss Tang to sample.

The inspection of the goods was the most important part of today's banquet, and the atmosphere immediately became tense.

Mr. Tang, dressed in a long robe and mandarin jacket, sat upright, his weathered face expressionless. He seemed uninterested in the magnolia-scented tea on the table, slowly picking up his golden water pipe, lighting the wick, and intently watching the yellowish-white flame. After about half a pipeful, he finally lit the pipe, took a deep drag, and slowly exhaled smoke rings; a moment later...

Wisps of smoke swirled above his head.

Everyone was awestruck by his demeanor. He was like the thick, white smoke billowing from a hookah pipe, so dense and unfathomable.

After a few pipefuls of tobacco, Boss Tang put down his water pipe, picked up a piece of magnolia petal, and brought it to his eyes. The soft, delicate magnolia petal was a bright yellow, as if coated with gold, and had a delightful fragrance. An expert could tell at a glance that this magnolia petal was of high quality, truly a delicacy from the mountains.

Mr. Tang pinched it between his fingers, sniffed it, and a hint of spring breeze crossed his brow. He nodded slightly and said, "It's so-so."

The village woman felt a weight lifted from her heart, and her trembling legs stopped shaking. Yang Hong appeared calm on the surface, but his heart was still pounding with tension. Back then, when Su Zimin had seized control of the bamboo shoot field, his only thought was how to change the village elder's name to Su Zimin; he wasn't taking anything seriously. After regaining control, he removed the substandard bamboo shoots and reprocessed them, making them virtually indistinguishable from the finely crafted ones of previous years. He feared that if Boss Tang noticed anything amiss and nitpicked, how would he explain himself?

Then, Mr. Tang put a small piece of the "precious tip" of the winter bamboo shoot into his mouth, chewed it, tasted it, and then looked at it from left to right in the light before saying with relief, "Not bad."

As the saying goes, "You only see the mud on your legs after you've come out of the water." In business, bargaining is where true skill is revealed; Boss Tang picked up his water pipe again and casually asked, "What's the price?"

What do you think?

Boss Tang exhaled a puff of smoke and spread out his ten fingers: "Ten taels of silver per load."

"This price is too low!" Yang Hong almost stood up. "We pay fifty taels of silver per load as tribute to the Emperor!"

With the added rewards, it would be even more.

Boss Tang laughed and said, "Brother, don't think I don't know that what you offer to the Emperor is the real 'Imperial Piece'. The raw materials are all carefully selected winter bamboo shoot tips. Only 30% of the bamboo shoot is used. It's different from what you sell to us!"

Yang Hongdao said, "What we sell to you is not inferior. Baojian and Dongpian are made with winter bamboo shoots, and Taopian and Chunpian are made with the first spring bamboo shoots. They are all processed using a family secret recipe, just like the imperial bamboo shoots made for tribute. The taste is no different."

Mr. Tang said, "The color, aroma, and taste of this magnolia petal slice are quite good, but it's a bit old. You can't fool me about that."

Yang Hong said, "Boss Tang, our magnolia petals have been pressed for a bit too long, which is why they have a slightly aged color. Only experts can tell the difference, and they won't look bad at all. We charge for what you get, so please don't try to lower the price too much."

Mr. Tang remained silent, smoking continuously.

Su Zimin laughed and said, "Boss Tang, you said the magnolia petals are a bit old, but that's not a problem at all. The day before yesterday, I weighed out five catties for my father-in-law's birthday celebration. He ate a few slices, and hehe, he didn't even need to chew or bite them, they just slurped them down; the taste was... well, he wanted more after eating them..."

Zimin's vivid and engaging words made Xiaoyu and Caihua want to smile.

“Boss Tang, others are offering so much more than you,” Yang Hong held up four fingers, then said again, “Considering you’ve come all this way, we’ll offer you a discount—”

Mr. Tang held up two fingers: "I'll add two more taels of silver at most, and place the order!"

Yang Hong turned his head, whispered something in Su Zimin's ear, and said to Boss Tang, "Benevolence comes first, let's just accept this loss."

Su Zimin raised his glass: "Come on, let's have a drink!"

Yang Hong raised his glass: "Boss Tang, we'll have to look out for each other from now on!" Boss Tang nodded, a smile blooming on his face.

"Of course."

After the banquet, Boss Tang went to the bamboo shoot market to personally oversee the weighing and packing of the bamboo shoots, and made sure the pack animals were properly prepared. Only then did he untie his long satchel, pour out small ingots of silver, tie them in a small bag, and hand them to Yang Hong. "Count them yourself."

Yang Hong asked his subjects to count the number. The subjects counted it skillfully and then asked, "Is this all?"

Boss Tang said, "Are you worried about the quality being insufficient?"

The citizen said, "I mean the silver is too little. It should be two hundred and forty taels, why is there only forty taels?"

"I didn't bring enough money with me this time, so I'll pay a partial deposit first," Mr. Tang said apologetically. "I'll gather the money when I get home and bring it all with me next time the caravan goes into the mountains."

Yang Hong asked, "Next time? When is the next time?"

"It will take anywhere from seven or eight months to two or three months, but we guarantee that every penny will be delivered to your door."

“Let’s write a deed; words are no proof,” Zimin said.

"Okay, that's what I should do."

Watching Boss Tang sign and press his fingerprint on the debt agreement, Yang Hong said, "You must keep your word!"

Mr. Tang said, "In business, reputation comes first; I won't keep you waiting long, don't worry!"