Chapter 256
Chapter 256
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 256
>Chapter Title: The Patron
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While the others were enjoying the feast, Li Huowang wasn’t surprised in the slightest.
He sat alone off to the side by himself, gnawing away at the fattiest leg of lamb while pondering his own matters, completely shutting out everything around him.
“Although that Nascent Soul said the Bureau of Surveillance is strict on the outside but lax within, and joining them isn’t hard, I still need to find a connection.”
“First off, how should I even make contact? I can’t just ask random people on the street. I don’t even know if the mask alone can completely hide my identity as a heart elemental.”
“While the mask can conceal me from Han Fu, it might not work against everyone.”
“But right now, I have no idea what the situation is like in the Liang Kingdom. Just sitting here daydreaming isn’t going to help. I’ll have to play it by ear based on the actual circumstances.”
“There’s a saying that the hardest part is always the first step. Once I get past that, the rest should be much easier.”
As Li Huowang mulled this over, lost in thought, his sharp ears picked up the sound of cloth shoes crunching on the grass.
He looked up and saw Lv Zhuangyuan’s wrinkled old face and that signature fawning smile.
“Little Daoist, you got a moment? Hehe, this old man wants to discuss a small matter with you.”
“Oh? Go ahead.”
Li Huowang set down the bone in his hand and looked toward the troupe leader standing before him.
He’d been so busy dealing with the Black Tai Sui matter lately that he’d nearly forgotten there was a theater troupe traveling with him.
“Little Daoist, as you know, back in Hou Shu, we had to flee the draft and abandoned all our play crates—the costumes, the instruments for blowing, plucking, bowing, and striking.”
“But we’re a theater troupe after all. We can’t make a living without our tools. So I was thinking... could you loan us some silver to replace them all? Let us set the stage back up. What do you say?”
Hearing that this was what he’d come to talk about, Li Huowang couldn’t care less. The gold box Sun Baolu’s mother had given him was worth plenty—no need to haggle over something like this.
“Fine then. Go to Bai Lingmiao and get the money from her.”
“Ay~ ay~ hehehe, hold on, Little Daoist. I’m not done yet. Take this first.”
Lv Zhuangyuan pulled a crumpled sheet of paper stamped with a red handprint from his bosom and handed it to Li Huowang.
Li Huowang took the wrinkled slip of paper and peered at the crooked scrawl on it. The characters were so hard to make out.
“What’s this? Chicken scratch?”
Lv Zhuangyuan’s old face flushed red.
“It’s the IOU. Please bear with me, Little Daoist—this old man doesn’t know many characters. But it doesn’t matter. The handprint’s what counts!”
“Little Daoist, you’ve done us a great favor, and we can’t just take your money for free. We’ve been eating your food and using your things these days. How about this?”
“Until the money’s paid back, you’ll be the patron of the Lv Family Troupe! From now on, half of whatever silver the Lv Family Troupe earns goes to us, and half goes to you.”
“Half to me? You’ll never pay off that debt at this rate. No need to make it complicated—the silver’s yours to keep.”
With that, Li Huowang stood and tried to hand the paper back.
“Ai, ai~!”
Lv Zhuangyuan hunched over and blocked his path with his pipe.
“Now hold on there. A deal’s a deal. If you say it like that, we really won’t dare to borrow your silver.”
Hearing this, Li Huowang didn’t push it and simply pocketed the paper stamped with the red handprint.
Seeing this, Lv Zhuangyuan’s face lit up with joy. He quickly waved over the rest of the Lv Family Troupe, who had been waiting off to the side. They stood together nervously and bowed to Li Huowang in unison.
“Greetings, Patron!”
Li Huowang had no interest in guessing at Lv Zhuangyuan’s little schemes. Looking at the people before him, he knew only one thing: he’d just acquired a hen that laid eggs. Sure, she was scrawny and didn’t lay often, but it was steady income at least.
“Alright, all of you go back to eating. Rest up after the meal, then we hit the road. We need to leave Qingqiu as soon as possible.”
“You got it, Patron!”
Li Huowang watched them walk off happily and shook his head in exasperation. He picked up the vegetable and mutton offal soup, still warm, and drank it down.
“Everyone’s always talking about Great Liang, Great Liang. Never thought this old man would get to see it for himself.”
A rare hint of pride appeared on Lv Zhuangyuan’s face as he happily led the others back.
His happiness meant someone else wasn’t happy. Lv Juren sidled up to his father, his expression gloomy.
“Dad, you’re really this thrilled after selling us off?”
“Ai, you boy.”
Lv Zhuangyuan sighed as he looked at his eldest son. He pulled out his pipe, lit it off the nearby campfire, and puffed away.
“Then what’s your brilliant idea?”
“I want to go back. I don’t want to go to Great Liang. I... I don’t want to do opera anymore.”
Lv Juren looked up, his features twisted, toward distant Luo Jinhua and her swollen belly as he spoke.
“You!”
Lv Zhuangyuan anxiously raised his pipe, but seeing his son stand there stiff-necked and unflinching, he sheepishly lowered it.
“You say that like it’s easy! What’ll you do if you don’t sing? We don’t even have a field to our name—are we going back to begging?”
“And besides, even if you wanted to go back, could you? The soldiers behind us are fighting like mad dogs right now. You’d just be rushing off to your death!”
Lv Juren suddenly planted his feet and spoke with a hint of longing in his eyes.
“Dad, maybe the war’s already over! We haven’t seen any fighting along the road.”
“Hmph! Over my dead body. No soldier’s war ever starts and then stops halfway through!”
Seeing Lv Juren still looked conflicted, Lv Zhuangyuan let out a light sigh.
“Son, trust me. These years of mine aren’t wasted on a dog’s body.”
“You think it’s over once the war passes? Not that easy. Disasters always come in pairs.”
“After the war, too many dead with no one to bury them. Nine times out of ten, plague follows right on its heels. Once the plague passes, the survivors have no money in their pockets and no grain in their fields. They’ll be selling their kids for a tael of grain just to survive. Who’s gonna come watch plays then? What do we eat and drink? Gnaw on dirt?”
His tone softened a bit as he continued.
“Son, don’t look down on singing opera. If it weren’t for that, I’d have starved to death long ago. No you kids either. We can’t forget our roots.”
Lv Juren knew his father was right, but he still felt the man’s choice was a bit too extreme.
“But Dad, no matter what, there was no need to sell the whole lot of us to the little Daoist! We’re his slaves now!”
Lv Zhuangyuan shot his eldest son a glare, glanced far off at Li Huowang eating his meal, then tugged Lv Juren’s sleeve and quickened his pace.
Once they were a bit farther away, he lowered his voice even more.
“Slaves? Name me one slave household where they eat meat every day?”
(End of this chapter)