Chapter 7: Infuriating

The next day, Zhao Baozhu remembered there would be a meal at noon. When the time seemed about right, he followed the same path as the day before and arrived in front of the side room.

He lifted the curtain and glanced up to see quite a few people sitting around the wooden table from yesterday. They wore clothing in shades of black, white, or light blue, gathered in groups of three or four. When they noticed Zhao Baozhu entering, they all turned their heads to look at him, their gazes far from friendly. Among them was the slant-eyed girl from the previous day; upon seeing him, she immediately lowered her head guiltily. After a moment, as if regaining her composure, she raised her head and shot Zhao Baozhu a fierce glare.

Zhao Baozhu took in the expressions of the group—surprise, disdain, contempt, and coldness. He furrowed his brows slightly, puzzled as to why these strangers would look at him with such hostility.

At that moment, a female voice called out to him, “Baozhu, over here!”

Zhao Baozhu turned his head to see Aunt Qi sitting alone at a table, waving him over. His face brightened with joy, and he quickly went to sit beside her.

“Aunt Qi,” he greeted with a smile, “I finally see you. I waited for you a long time yesterday, but you never came.”

“Oh dear, that’s all my fault,” Aunt Qi chuckled warmly upon seeing Zhao Baozhu. The boy was good-looking and had an open, sunny disposition. She especially liked children who smiled readily upon meeting others—unlike those who wore sullen faces every day, as if everyone owed them a debt, which was just annoying to look at.

“Sorry to have kept our Baozhu waiting so long yesterday, and you even missed lunch. That must have been quite unfair,” Aunt Qi said as she carefully wiped the sweat from Zhao Baozhu’s forehead with a handkerchief, casting a cold glance at the others nearby. “It’s all those black-hearted ones’ fault. Sooner or later, we’ll have to drive them all out!”

Zhao Baozhu followed her gaze and saw the others wore faces of suppressed anger. One man lifted his head to glare fiercely at Aunt Qi but then lowered it again, lips moving quietly as if whispering to his companions.

Seeing their behavior, Zhao Baozhu’s eyes flicked sharply, and he pieced together the situation. Yesterday, Aunt Qi must have been delayed by something and likely sent someone to call him for the meal, but for some unknown reason, that person never came. His cat-like eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the hostile gatherings around him. It was clear he was not welcomed here.

Despite understanding this, Zhao Baozhu was unbothered. He withdrew his gaze, slid the white porcelain bowl closer, and took a bite of rice.

Having lost his mother early in life, born fair-skinned and the only quiet child in the village who stayed home studying instead of fighting, Zhao Baozhu had often been ostracized by other playful children. He never minded then, and now, he certainly wouldn’t care about the cold stares of these unrelated people.

Why were the young servers in this capital’s inn all so fiery?

“Tsk, let’s ignore them,” Aunt Qi said, turning back to him. She lifted a glistening plate of braised pork and transferred several pieces into Zhao Baozhu’s bowl. “You must be tired from working all morning. Eat more meat—it will give you strength.”

With fragrant white rice in his mouth, Zhao Baozhu watched the generous chunks of glossy braised pork fall into his bowl. The fatty parts even wobbled slightly, making his eyes instantly brighten.

“Is today some special occasion?” he asked, slightly dazed.

Aunt Qi was momentarily taken aback, then realized that since Zhao Baozhu only had an elderly father at home and lived a hard life, meat was probably a rare treat, only eaten on festivals or special days. Her heart filled with pity as she gently patted his back.

“Good child, it’s nothing special. Just eat as much as you want.”

Reassured, Zhao Baozhu bowed his head and ate with gusto. After swallowing four pieces of pork, he suddenly looked up as if remembering something. “Aunt Qi, you should eat too.”

Seeing his cheeks puffed out like a little mole in the forest, Aunt Qi smiled with crinkled eyes. “This old body of mine can’t handle greasy food anymore.” Then she picked up some stir-fried shredded pork with chilies and handed it to Zhao Baozhu. “All for our Bao’er.”

Zhao Baozhu smiled shyly but could not refuse the old woman’s kindness. He lowered his head and finished every bite of the dishes Aunt Qi gave him. Seeing this, Aunt Qi’s smile grew even wider, her eyes full of tender affection, more doting than if he were her own grandson.

Meanwhile, those at the other tables, seeing Zhao Baozhu’s manner of eating, had their initial surprise at his unexpectedly refined appearance turn quickly to disdain. What use was a clever-looking little beggar? At heart, he was unruly and uncultured—how could he compare to those born and raised in noble households, serving from childhood?

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Zhao Baozhu was still eagerly eating when he heard a whispered voice nearby: “Eating like a starving ghost—what a waste of that good face.”

Though the voice was low, others could still hear. Zhao Baozhu paused mid-chew and turned sharply to glare at the man who had spoken.

The man was caught off guard by the look Zhao Baozhu gave him, frozen in place. Zhao Baozhu’s cat-like eyes glinted coldly, a glance both chilling and oddly alluring. The man’s face flushed red and blue, and he hastily looked down, muttering, “So what if you’re good-looking? You glare at people like you’ve no manners.”

Zhao Baozhu: …

He exhaled and decided it wasn’t worth arguing with these people. It seemed that in this capital, not only were the people ill-tempered, but they also weren’t very bright.

·

After the meal, Zhao Baozhu placed a hand on his bulging belly. The sky was clear, the trees green, and everything felt serene and beautiful. Having eaten his fill, he felt stronger than the day before. In less than two hours, he had taken care of all the chickens and ducks and even managed to turn over the soil in the backyard vegetable patch.

With some time before dinner, Zhao Baozhu took out his book and squatted beneath a large tree to review his studies. The book had been with him for over ten years, patched and rebound in places, barely holding together. The paper was so thin that he had to handle it with utmost care to avoid tearing.

The banyan tree shielded him from the harsh sunlight above, and a cool early spring breeze rustled through the leaves. Zhao Baozhu pulled his clothes tighter around himself against the chill—it was different up north; even in early spring, the sun couldn’t warm the air.

As he hunched his shoulders and warmed his hands by breathing on them, a few fluffy yellow chicks waddled out of the coop and snuggled at his feet.

Zhao Baozhu glanced up from his book and gently nudged them away with his foot. “Don’t come over. Brother Fang told me not to hold you.”

The chicks tilted their heads in confusion, retracting under their wings, their black eyes staring at him as they chirped noisily. Zhao Baozhu found them adorable and felt a sudden itch to hold them. He flipped his book face down against his chest and looked around stealthily to make sure Fang Li was not nearby.

Fang Li was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Zhao Baozhu noticed a figure approaching.

Focusing, he recognized the man who had insulted him at noon. The man carried a large wooden bucket, moving with some effort. When he saw Zhao Baozhu squatting by the tree, he raised his eyebrows with ill intent.

“Oh,” he said, setting down the heavy bucket and eyeing Zhao Baozhu from head to toe, “reading, huh?”

His tone was sarcastic—the newcomer was clearly hostile. Zhao Baozhu’s expression darkened as he shooed the chicks away and put his book away.

The man noticed and stepped forward, reaching to snatch the book. “What are you hiding? Got something you don’t want me to see? Hand it over—”

Zhao Baozhu swiftly withdrew the book, tucking it behind his back, then pushed the man hard with both hands, sending him stumbling back two or three steps before he regained his footing.

“Stay away from me,” Zhao Baozhu warned coldly.

The man was surprised by the boy’s strength. Rubbing his shoulder, he looked down at Zhao Baozhu and said, “Not much bigger than a kid, but you’ve got some strength.”

Zhao Baozhu had grown up poor and never eaten well, so he wasn’t tall. But the man was only a half-head taller, which was unimpressive for a northern man. Zhao Baozhu snorted coldly and lifted his chin.

“You’re not that tall yourself. No need to waste breath talking about me.”

The man’s face changed color at the insult, his eyes darkening as he glared at Zhao Baozhu before growling, “Sharp-tongued.”

Zhao Baozhu stared him down with a cold expression.

“Looking for trouble? Got nothing better to do?”

The man was so angered by the boy’s retort that he nearly fell backward. He had assumed Zhao Baozhu, with his delicate appearance and poverty, would be meek like other poor people. Instead, the boy’s fiery temper surprised him.

Unwilling to concede, the man gritted his teeth. “You’re slacking off here. Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell Fang Li to kick you out?”

Zhao Baozhu blinked. “Slacking off? What lazy eye did you see? I finished my work long ago.”

The man gaped, disbelief spreading across his face. They had deliberately assigned their heaviest tasks to Zhao Baozhu!

Raising an eyebrow, Zhao Baozhu stepped aside. “See for yourself.”

The man looked at him, then walked to the chicken coop. Seeing it cleaner than ever, the soil freshly turned, and the chickens and ducks wandering peacefully in the yard, his expression shifted several times.

Most of these servants had been with the Ye family for years and knew the master was lenient, unlikely to dismiss them easily. They had long grown used to their lax routines. Now, seeing Zhao Baozhu’s efficiency, they couldn’t believe it.

“Well? Believe me now?”

Zhao Baozhu said triumphantly behind him.

The man slowly turned back, glowering at Zhao Baozhu and then glancing at the wooden bucket nearby. Suddenly, a sly idea crossed his mind.

“Since you’re done with your work, help me feed the horses.”

He turned arrogantly and gestured toward the path to the stables.

“These are the young master’s prized horses. Any one of them is worth more than you. Take good care of them. I’m only giving you this important task because you work pretty well.”

Hearing this, Zhao Baozhu almost laughed with anger. He scoffed, folding his arms, one eyebrow raised, mocking the man.

“Why should I help you?”

His face darkened instantly. “No way! Do your own work.”

The man was taken aback. His usual tricks worked well on younger or less experienced servants, but Zhao Baozhu wasn’t having it. Embarrassed, he glanced away but then suddenly brightened with a cunning plan, subtly shifting his foot aside.

“Hey!”

Zhao Baozhu stared in disbelief as the man suddenly ran off. “You’re trying to run?”

The man shouted as he fled, “Go feed the horses! Those ancestors will start yelling if they’re not fed soon!”

Zhao Baozhu’s brows shot up. He instinctively wanted to chase after him, but unfamiliar with the layout of the yard, he could only watch helplessly as the man disappeared quickly into the winding path, stomping his feet in frustration.

“How can anyone be so shameless?!”

His eyes practically blazing, Zhao Baozhu shook his fist in the direction the man had vanished. Having just arrived and still on others’ turf, he restrained his temper. But the next time he saw that man, he vowed to land a punch squarely on his face!