Harmony at Home

Hearing the conversation between his child and the young master, Yang Chong felt a deep sense of surprise. He wondered whether the young master placed such great importance on this first meeting between grandfather and grandson that he had deliberately memorized everyone's names, or if he truly possessed some extraordinary skill that allowed him to know everything simply by divination.

Walking ahead, Yang Chong knew this was the young master's first visit and was unfamiliar with his temperament. Adhering to the principle that speaking more leads to more mistakes while speaking less minimizes them, he kept silent and did not interrupt.

Yang Chong led Zhang Ling into the main hall of the estate. The hall was furnished with one primary seat and six guest seats, and the Minister of Works, Zhang Hongshan, was seated in the place of honor. Seeing that the master of the house was still present and knowing that grandfather and grandson must have much to discuss after a long separation, Yang Chong turned, cupped his hands, and said, "Young master, since the master is here, this old servant will not intrude further. If you need anything, you may come to the accounts room to find me at any time."

Zhang Ling smiled and nodded. Yang Chong glanced back at his son, who was still reluctant to leave. Yang筠 was standing fixedly, gazing with admiration at this knowledgeable young master—mostly because he was extremely handsome, which would bring great prestige if one were to follow him out in the future. Although young, Yang筠 understood a great deal. Most young gentlemen in Brocade Jade City knew only of debauchery and sightseeing, putting on airs of solemnity while being profoundly hypocritical. They would look at other young maidens as gentle as water on the surface yet fierce as wolves and tigers within, clinging obsessively to whoever caught their eye. Such men were utterly repulsive. Were it not for the influence of their powerful backgrounds, many would have spat in their faces and cursed them aloud. But the young master was different. His ethereal and handsome appearance was such that girls who cared only for outward looks would probably be willing to throw themselves at him. Besides, he had heard that this young master came from the exceptionally famous academy outside the city, so he must possess great abilities. Following such a master truly felt comfortable.

While Yang筠 was still lost in these daydreamy thoughts, the back of his head was suddenly given a heavy smack. Snapping back to reality, he hastily bowed in farewell to Zhang Ling.

As the old saying goes, one feels timid when nearing home. At this moment, Zhang Ling did not quite know what to say, having prepared no opening remarks in advance. Gazing at the elderly man sitting upright in the grand hall, Zhang Ling felt a rare sense of constraint, yet managed a warm smile and called out, "Grandfather."

Zhang Hongshan had half-expected this affectionate address to come much later, and for a moment he was taken aback. Striving to suppress the joy and surging emotion in his heart, he smiled kindly and said, "Sit down."

Feigning a puzzled expression, Zhang Ling asked, "Where is Second Uncle? Is he not here?"

Zhang Hongshan replied, "He left the capital last month for the Xianguo Army on the northeastern frontier, intending to pick up his old blade once more. I suspect it is also because you have returned; he has always possessed a fiercely competitive nature. In the past, he could never surpass your father, and now he is likely simply unwilling to lose to you. Though I feel reluctant to let him go, I can only indulge him. It does not matter that you did not see him today; there will be plenty of opportunities in the future."

Zhang Ling nodded, though inwardly he offered a wry smile. Zhang Qizhou acted like a total madman when he started fighting; it was perhaps better not to see him. Offering an apologetic smile, Zhang Ling said, "I only hope you do not blame me for failing to visit you earlier."

Zhang Hongshan smiled faintly, "I am already overjoyed that you are willing to acknowledge me as your grandfather. It matters not whether you came sooner or later."

After a moment of silent contemplation, Zhang Ling spoke with a solemn tone, "Actually, I know about what happened back then. You cannot be entirely blamed; you were not even in the capital at the time, so you need not carry such heavy self-reproach."

With his countless years of experience in officialdom, Zhang Hongshan knew that Zhang Ling's sudden change in tone—praising first before bringing up a matter—meant he undoubtedly had a favor to ask. However, seeing as it was their reunion after so many years, he decided to be lenient and chose not to expose the tactic. Without waiting for Zhang Ling to bring it up, he took the initiative and said, "Since you are here, I might as well speak with you about the Mohists. A few days ago, I consulted with the others in the Ministry of Works, and His Majesty has also given his consent. Taking a step back, the court did not demand that the Mohists surrender their core mechanical arts. Instead, we settled on some methods for improving blades and armor. In exchange, the Mohists must dispatch disciples to the imperial court in person to impart these techniques, and additionally supplement this with one million taels of silver. Only then will the court support the Mohists' stable standing in the pugilistic world."

Frowning, Zhang Ling said, "The Mohists are already in a crisis. Is one million taels not too much?"

Zhang Hongshan nodded, "There is no help for it. Both the military and His Majesty have already made their utmost concessions. The Mohists are not submitting as vassals, so this is a transaction between two parties, and interests must be negotiated. However, His Majesty is magnanimous and has permitted the Mohists to repay the sum within five years, and the several Grand Masters of the Mohists have already agreed."

Zhang Ling asked, "Does Moli know? He is the youngest Grand Master of the Mohist sect and is currently my fellow disciple."

Zhang Hongshan shook his head, "I have not yet met him, but I heard of him during my negotiations with the elderly Grand Masters of the Mohist sect. They say he is the most outstanding young man of this generation of Mohists. You can discuss the details with him later, and if he has any doubts, he may come to see me."

Hearing this, Zhang Ling finally set his mind at rest for Moli's sake. Five years could be long or short; if Moli wasted these five years, he would achieve nothing. The Mohists had pinned all their hopes on this young Grand Master. If they still failed to repay the debt by then and consequently lost their credibility, they would likely have no choice but to retire from the rivers and lakes entirely. Of course, to possess the strength to turn the tide and sway the grand situation, one probably had to attain the level of a Grand Master like Dean Song. Yet within a mere five years—looking across the entire martial world, how many people in a century could achieve such a feat? Thus, the two words "Moli's difficulty" were heavier than one might imagine.

Zhang Ling stood up, cupped his hands, and said, "Grandfather, on behalf of Moli, I thank you very much."

Zhang Hongshan also stood up, walked down, gently pressed Zhang Ling's hands down, and smiled lightly, "You are merely helping a fellow disciple out of the goodness of your heart, and your grandfather naturally supports that. Besides, we are family, so there is no need for thanks."

Looking up at the sky outside the courtyard, Zhang Hongshan added, "It is almost noon. Do not leave; stay and have a meal with your grandfather."

Zhang Ling nodded in agreement, and the grandfather and grandson moved to the dining room. In his spare time, Zhang Ling cast his gaze around the room. He had originally imagined that a high-ranking official like Zhang Hongshan would be surrounded by luxury everywhere—railings carved from purple sandalwood or expensive red rosewood, dining utensils made of renowned porcelain, and trinkets carved from fine jade so beloved by officials. Yet as he had roamed the estate earlier, Zhang Ling had not seen a single novel or extravagant object. Zhang Qizhou was also a dull person of few words; he truly wondered how the old man spent his days. Surely he could not keep himself constantly busy like Xiao Qinhe?

Zhang Ling sat before a square table adorned with delicate patterns. Upon closer inspection, it was far from extravagant, even inferior to the one he used at the academy. The table was not large, just enough to seat four people for a meal. Because meals in this household were usually shared only by the father and son—and Zhang Qizhou was mostly away from home for meals—the old man was often left to dine alone in the cold room. Consequently, there were no other dining tables in the room, save for this single compact table with four chairs.

A moment later, a servant brought out four dishes. They were not rare delicacies either. The first dish was ordinary pickled vegetables, and the second was shredded pork braised with green vegetables. The preparation was simple, yet the dish was visually appealing, with both the greens and the shredded pork cut into uniform sizes, reflecting the chef's superb knife skills and precise control over the heat. The third dish was braised pork belly in soy sauce, selecting streaky pork with an even balance of fat and lean meat, cut into small cubes and stewed with spices before being sliced and drizzled with broth upon plating. As for the fourth dish, it was rather special; it was called "Joy Gathering in the Hall," consisting of various auspicious ingredients stuffed inside a roast goose and steamed, accompanied by a pot of gardenia flower wine. Had it not been for the mischief caused earlier by the Saber Saint Du Haifan, Zhang Ling figured he would have been able to drink this wine back at the academy as well.