Chapter Thirty-Five: Journey to the Warm Jade Pavilion

No matter how much one extols the virtues of masculine fortitude, or urges brothers to stand tall, it all crumbles before the words, “I’ll count to three.” Though they were twins, the one born even a moment earlier was the elder sister, and the innate authority she wielded over her brother was absolute—no matter that Feng Jingzhe had been reborn, he could not escape her dominance. After all, the hardware of the body was fixed, and even the most powerful software could not overcome it.

Thus, from the moment Feng Xiaoman stepped into Chang’an, Feng Jingzhe lost all rights as a free citizen. A series of draconian rules were set specifically for him, bordering on the inhumane. Among them: he was not allowed to disappear from the sight of any Feng family member without reason; if he wished to visit friends or stroll the streets, he had to submit a request in advance and could only leave once it was approved—never for more than half an hour.

After much protest and negotiation, this time limit was generously extended to a full hour, but only after agreeing to concessions and reparations. Yes, even the only room in the entire Feng residence with a separate wet and dry shower—the one Feng Jingzhe had painstakingly renovated—was now completely dominated by Feng Xiaoman.

All privileges would be restored only after a month of confinement, under the noble pretense that a man about to be married must cultivate his character and sever all ambiguous ties outside. Some reckless actions stem from excessive pressure, like a spring wound too tight, bound to erupt sooner or later. Feng Jingzhe endured for twenty-three days before he could bear it no longer—not from lack of professional discipline, but because the daily fare of cabbage and tofu had left his mouth so bland he could scarcely taste anything.

Since Feng Xiaoman took command of the household, the quality of meals had plummeted. Sometimes, he wondered if the entire family planned to embrace monastic life; otherwise, why was there never a hint of meat at the table? Even with nearly ten thousand taels—no, not ill-gotten gains, but profits—having vanished, it shouldn’t have left them so destitute.

After nearly a month of vegetarian meals, Feng Jingzhe finally resolved to challenge the tyranny. Before him stood a wall nearly two fathoms high; once, such a height would have been trivial, but now it seemed daunting. Still, compared to the ordeal of banquets, this obstacle could be overcome.

“Ah Zhe, are you picking fruit up there? I want some too…”

In the darkness, just as he had managed to climb onto a branch and was preparing to leap to the wall, a voice startled him. He saw his mother, clutching Xiao Bai, peering out from behind the rockery. The moonlight revealed her gentle face, her eyes brimming with childlike innocence.

“Mother! Why are you out here so late?”

There was no need to guess; her illness had surely flared up again. Just days ago, old friends from Chang’an had come bearing gifts, and she’d hosted them with grace—only to lapse again so quickly.

“Mother, there’s no fruit in this tree. Please head back, or Feng Xiaoman will worry if she can’t find you…”

Old people are like children; they require gentle coaxing.

“Ah Zhe, you’re lying. I’ll tell Xiaoman you won’t pick fruit for me…”

Lady Jiang’s eyes filled with tears as she turned to complain, frightening Feng Jingzhe.

If that tigress learned he was sneaking out at night, he’d surely face another round with the rolling pin.

“Wait, wait… Mother, don’t go! There’s no fruit in the tree, but I can go buy some for you!”

“You’ll buy it for me…”

“Yes, yes… Stay here and play hide-and-seek with Xiao Bai. When I return, I’ll bring you something delicious…”

The promise of tasty treats instantly brightened Lady Jiang’s mood.

“Agreed! Ah Zhe, hurry back. I’ll wait here and play hide-and-seek while you’re gone…”

Having finally soothed his mother, Feng Jingzhe swiftly vaulted atop the wall. Watching her son vanish into the night, Lady Jiang stroked Xiao Bai’s round head and murmured to herself as she walked.

“Xiao Bai, let’s play hide-and-seek! Usually you hide while I search, but tonight I’ll be the one hiding…”

Meanwhile, Feng Jingzhe, now escaped and breathing in the free night air, had no inkling that his casual promise would soon lead to a nightmare.

East Market, “Food is Heaven.” It was just after dinner, and only two or three tables remained in the tavern. Behind the counter, Sun Fugui looked up and saw Feng Jingzhe. He tossed his abacus aside and waddled forward to greet him.

“Third Brother Feng, why are you only now arriving? I’ve been to your house a dozen times lately, but…”

Sun Fugui didn’t finish, but his meaning was clear.

“Brother, it’s hard to explain…”

Feng Jingzhe embraced him, the bitterness of his plight beyond words.

“Hurry, bring out your best dishes—these days, it’s been a life unfit for man… And get two jugs of your Jade Ice Brew—make sure it’s chilled…”

Seeing his brother’s famished expression, Sun Fugui knew he must have suffered greatly, but at this hour, the kitchen held little left.

“The meal rush has passed, Third Brother. Bear with it for now—tonight, I’ll treat you somewhere else…”

Without another word, Sun grabbed a handful of silver notes from the drawer, didn’t bother counting, and pulled Feng Jingzhe outside. Now, he was the master of this tavern. It was a joke—his son had made three years’ profit in just twenty days, so Sun Youcai had happily retired.

“Third Brother, as you ordered, fifty taels have been sent to Wu Dayong in your name! As for Liu Lei, he only took back his principal, but insists on leaving a thousand taels interest here. He says it’s an advance investment for your next venture…”

“Haha… That Liu is a clever one. You should get to know him better. If he proves trustworthy, perhaps next time we’ll let him join in…”

The two brothers, long parted, had much to discuss.

“No need to get too close to Wu Dayong. Officials don’t need to be brought into the open. As long as he’s reachable when needed, a Jinwu Guard in Chang’an will be useful time and again…”

Sun nodded repeatedly—that was exactly what he'd wanted to remind him.

Talking as they walked, they soon reached Chang Le Lane, the street of pleasure houses. From afar, they saw the Red Sleeve Banner fluttering beneath lantern light. With all the taverns now closed, anyone seeking a good meal had to come here.

Seeing the lively crowd at Red Sleeves’ entrance, Feng Jingzhe suddenly remembered a debt of gratitude he had yet to repay. When he’d been surrounded by creditors at his door, it was Lady Meng Xiaodie from Warm Jade Pavilion who had sent a box of money. Though it hadn’t helped much in the end, the kindness remained owed.

“Come, since we’re here, let’s head to Warm Jade Pavilion…”

Hearing this, Sun Fugui wisely kept his thoughts to himself. Truth be told, he’d already thanked Meng Xiaodie for her generosity, sending gifts more than once. But now that her fame was rising, he had yet to offer his thanks in person…