Chapter Seventy-Seven: The Fierceness of a Child

Chapter Seventy-Seven: The Fierce Child

On Ma Xing Street stood a flagpole seventeen zhang high, bearing the inscription—“Eastern Corridor Main Tavern, Peerless Wine!” Each character was the size of a door panel, and even from the Dongling Bridge, one could clearly see the bold writing on the banner. The flag waved in the wind, and the words seemed to dance like dragons, a most impressive sight.

Writing such enormous characters was no easy feat. First, one would need a brush as thick as a rafter, then spend over a decade practicing with water on bluestone slabs. If one mastered this art, a handsome income was guaranteed. It was said that each of the seven characters on the main sign of the Eastern Corridor Tavern cost ten strings of cash to persuade the master calligrapher, Sun Bulang, to take up the brush. Whenever Sun Bulang finished his work, he would often regret his decision, pounding his chest and sighing that he had deprived the younger generation of calligraphers of another mouthful of rice.

Merchants in the Great Song placed considerable importance on promotion, something Tie Xinyuan had long since learned. Even the monk who beat the woodblock to mark the hours knew to carry a basket of broken rice cakes in the early morning and hand them to greedy children, so they would run home and tell their parents that Liang’s rice cakes were the tastiest.

The alluring woman at the wine shop’s door was not there to sell wine at all. Her purpose was to entice men. Each woman had a pair of moist, enchanting eyes, and the men walking by sometimes fell prey to their gentle words, stumbling drunkenly into the tavern. Only after sobering up outside did they realize they had left with two jars of wine, while the coins in their money belts had vanished without a trace.

Groups of children sang street songs about Yang Huaiyu’s quest for the Martial Champion, parading through the city: “The north wind rises, the hero weeps, the lad is willing, the maiden indifferent…”

Having admired the scene for a while, Tie Xinyuan stepped again onto the inch-thick snow and made his way to Basket Alley.

The Little New Year had just passed, and with the Nian Beast soon to descend, the people of Tokyo could not do without making some dumplings, preparing a few side dishes for wine, buying new clothes for wives and children, and getting ready to drink through the night as they kept vigil. The Kitchen God’s lips had been smeared with honey and sent to heaven, and the two mighty guardians, Shentu and Yulei, stood ready at every door. The little demons could not get in, while the people eagerly awaited their showdown with the Nian Beast on New Year’s Eve.

Yang Huaiyu, upon spotting Tie Xinyuan, reacted as though he’d seen a ghost, vanishing with a swish, leaving his half-finished bowl of rice on the table.

“Why did he run?” Tie Xinyuan sat in Yang Huaiyu’s place, dipped a flatbread into Shuizhu’er’s soup, took a bite, and asked Qiaoqiao.

“He says he’s too ashamed to face anyone. He hasn’t left the house for three or four days,” Qiaoqiao replied, slurping her noodles and mumbling through her mouthful.

“Tell him there’s no need to feel embarrassed. Competing for the Martial Champion is really no different from vying for the title of Courtesan Queen. Those women are willing to strip naked and leap into the water, pretending to be mermaids in front of a crowd, just to secure the top spot, even at the cost of being taken advantage of. That’s determination. All he’s done is let everyone know his name. Now, the whole city knows he wants to win the Martial Champion, and his affair with Su Mei has spread everywhere too. Whether he wins the title is uncertain, but Su Mei likely has few choices now besides marrying him. These are all good things. He doesn’t need to run away when he sees me.”

Qiaoqiao retorted angrily, “Yang Huaiyu said if he doesn’t win the Martial Champion, he’ll kill himself on the spot. Do you think he has any way out?”

Tie Xinyuan widened his eyes. “Is it easy for us to move forward? Why talk of retreat?”

Qiaoqiao flung her bowl aside and said crossly, “How do you know there won’t be someone even stronger than Yang Dalang?”

Tie Xinyuan smiled. “With us here, even if there is someone stronger, we’ll make sure he doesn’t stay strong. There’s always a way.”

Qiaoqiao drew a sharp breath. “You’re planning to cheat?”

“Of course. Do you think those Martial Champions in past years all won by pure skill? I’ve looked into the past sixteen years of exams. There were at least four instances of proven cheating and six more suspected. Do you know what the Martial Champion from the Jiazi year of Jingyou’s third reign is doing now?”

Qiaoqiao shook her head.

Tie Xinyuan chewed his flatbread and laughed. “He’s in the Western Xia’s captive army. When there was a battle, he hid in his tent and refused to step outside, so his unit was routed by a dozen Western Xia soldiers. He was so scared he wet his pants and got captured. We can’t know whether the man stronger than Yang Dalang is a coward, but at least if Yang Dalang is sent to guard the border, we don’t have to worry about him surrendering without a fight. Since that’s the case, why wouldn’t we give him our full support?”

Qiaoqiao nodded. “If that’s how it is, Yang Dalang does seem more reliable. But we’re powerless—how can we help him?”

Tie Xinyuan pulled a wooden rod over three feet long from beneath the table. “Drill a hole straight through the middle of this rod for me. Once the hole is ready, fill it with fine river sand and use a string to drag back and forth to polish it smooth. When you’re done, bring it to me.”

Qiaoqiao examined the rod. “Drilling through both ends isn’t hard. After filling it with fine sand, you don’t need a string—if you seal both ends and shake it, it’ll smooth out even better. But what is this for?”

Tie Xinyuan rolled his eyes. After a mouthful of noodles, he said, “Once the rod is finished, go down to the river and bring me some hibernating toads. I’ll need them.”

“Toads? In winter? You’re making things difficult.”

“Don’t worry about the why—just find them. Didn’t you once boast that you could even dig up grain from a field rat’s burrow in the winter? Digging up a few hibernating toads shouldn’t be hard.”

Seeing Tie Xinyuan wouldn’t explain, Qiaoqiao could only agree, albeit reluctantly, to drill the rod and dig for toads by the river.

With that settled, Tie Xinyuan and Qiaoqiao went to the far end of Basket Alley, where only a few sealed wooden barrels remained. Most had already been moved to the apricot grove, waiting to be buried in the ground and dumped into the hot springs as soon as they had enough.

Tie Xinyuan was not foolish enough to set fire to the light oil himself by the hot spring; that would easily land him in the army’s encirclement, and given the tight timeline, he could leave clues. A master like Bao Zheng could easily unravel the case if any evidence was left. He had no intention of being executed with Qiaoqiao, so a timed delay was essential.

Qiaoqiao’s delayed ignition device wasn’t ready yet, but he decided to leave that headache to Qiaoqiao, lest he fly into a rage himself.

He had fashioned a small wooden box, inside which was a tiny iron man holding a hammer. As long as the string wound around the iron man was pulled, the little figure would madly strike the flint, sending up sparks to ignite the tinder below, which would then set fire to a fuse made of gunpowder… According to Tie Xinyuan’s calculations, this box could provide at least half an hour’s delay.

His idea was to tie a thick stick of incense to the fuse. The incense would burn for half an hour before setting off the fuse.

As soon as he explained this, Qiaoqiao immediately turned hostile.

“Qiao, don’t overthink it. Blowing up Prince Pu’s house is no different from burning a thatched hut. The more you overthink, the more anxious you become, and that’s when you start making things complicated—just like your delayed ignition device. It doesn’t need to be that intricate. You instinctively ruled out all the simple methods. Don’t you know that, in this world, the simplest, most brutal methods are the most effective, the most direct, and the deadliest? With traps, the more elaborate they are, the more likely they are to fail. With weapons, the simpler, the more reliable. If we take the shortest route, we have a better chance of burning down Prince Pu’s house.”

Qiaoqiao nodded, fell silent for a long time, then asked, “How do you know all these things? Did you learn them from books?”

Tie Xinyuan laughed. “There’s a celestial book in my mind. Whatever knowledge I want, it supplies. So don’t be discouraged.”

“That hollow rod and toads—did the book mention those too?”

“Yes. Qiao, you may not believe it, but if you fill a bamboo dart with toad venom and load it into the hollow rod, then blow hard through the end, the dart can fly thirty paces with great accuracy. If the venom gets into someone’s body, they’ll soon suffer a seizure…”

“You plan to use this to help Yang Huaiyu win the Martial Champion?”

“That’s right. When the military field is packed with people crowding around the contenders, who will pay attention to a few little children like us?”

Qiaoqiao nodded. “That makes sense. As long as Yang Huaiyu isn’t eliminated in the first round, he truly stands a chance—provided we eliminate all threats to him first.”

Tie Xinyuan smiled. “Step by step. First, we’ll settle the account with Prince Pu, then deal with Yang Huaiyu’s affairs. Ha! In this vast city of Tokyo, with countless men of talent and wit, who would imagine a handful of children could turn the city upside down?”

Qiaoqiao grinned. “That’s a wonderful feeling. I like it. Since you want to be thorough, once I’ve moved all the light oil out tomorrow, this place should be completely overhauled. What do you think about buying it and turning it into our workshop?”

“Where would you get the money?”

“I noticed you have several valuable gems…”

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