Chapter Fifty-Five: Steward Ren Enters the Village

Chapter Fifty-Five: Steward Ren Enters the Village

"Hey, Uncle, have you heard? The second son of the Wang family got a real beating from Master Zhang last night!" During the slack farming season, the elderly in the tenant households, with nothing better to do, would drive their livestock to the riverside to graze and gather to gossip together—that was the pastime of most old folks.

"How could I not have heard?" the man addressed as uncle replied loudly, burping up the taste of wild greens from his hurried breakfast. "When Wang Da brought that boy back from the Zhang manor yesterday, he howled all the way home. Even my dog was scared and barked at the door the whole night!"

"This Master Zhang is truly ruthless. I saw that young man yesterday afternoon—so pale and clean, I thought he must be a scholar," another old shepherd joined in, shaking his head in amazement. "Who would have guessed he’d lay Wang Er flat in bed with a beating!"

"Scholars, scholars have the darkest hearts! When the Empress of Great Zhou was in power, Lai, Zhou, Zhang—all scholars! And now..." an old man driving a donkey muttered, whipping the water with a willow branch out of boredom. (Note: Lai Junchen, Zhou Xing, Zhang Yizhi, all notorious cruel figures from history, inventors of countless tortures.)

"Hush—" the rest immediately interrupted in unison, then quickly moved forty or fifty paces away to distance themselves from the donkey driver.

Though Chang’an was far from the village and the authorities rarely cared about the common people’s idle chatter, it was safer to be cautious. If, by chance, a passing official overheard and accused them of “reckless speech,” even if they avoided prison, their meager savings would be thoroughly cleaned out.

The donkey driver realized he’d said too much and sheepishly tossed his willow switch into the river, sidling back toward the group with a forced smile. "Alright, I’ll drop it. Mouth ran away from me. Let’s get back to Wang Er—I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before. How did he turn up out of the blue and get flattened by Master Zhang?"

"Oh, that’s a long story. Wang Da moved here to make a living because of trouble stirred up by his younger brother. Sigh..." The eldest, a white-bearded old man, began recounting the Wang family’s history, his voice heavy with empathy. As he spoke, he wiped his eyes. "That’s how it is—eldest sons are born first, grow up first, and bear all the hardship and toil first..."

"No wonder Lady Tian of the Wang family is so fierce. If she weren’t, they wouldn’t even have the last few dozen acres left; the second son would have squandered it all!" The bystanders echoed his sighs, pitying the Wang family and agreeing that Wang Er truly deserved a beating.

"If you ask me, Wang Er got what he deserved! He had it coming!"

"If Wang Da had beaten him a few more times when he was little, he’d have turned out fine. Brats need discipline!"

"That’s just evil meeting evil. They say Master Zhang is from the Demon Sect—must know some secret arts, spells and incantations! Wang Er was snatched up in the middle of the night..."

"Not Demon Sect, Mohist—ink, as in inkstick!"

"Ink Sect? That’s even darker! Wang Er has met his match this time!"

Since Wang Er was in need of a lesson, his being laid up by Master Zhang was a source of delight. As for why Wang Er went to the Zhang manor in the dead of night and what the quarrel was about, none of the old men cared to investigate further.

Whether a good man beat a bad one or a bad man beat another bad man, someone got their just deserts last night. All they needed to do was watch and gossip—no need to get involved.

Just as the gossip was at its liveliest, a crisp clang of a brass gong suddenly rang out. The old men saw a tall, burly fellow with a bandage around his head, flanked by a troupe of attendants, entering the village. Starting with the first house, he knocked on every door, and soon had every dog in the village barking.

"What’s going on? That big fellow doesn’t look like Dead Cui! Why are the Zhang family’s servants following him?" the donkey driver, startled, craned his neck like a frightened goose.

"What else? Here to collect tenancy rent again! Steward Cui failed yesterday and was dismissed by the master. There’s a new steward now—new broom sweeps clean!"

"No wonder Wang Er got such a thrashing. Turns out the Zhangs settled all scores with the Wangs last night!"

"Oh no, I haven’t paid my rent yet! I’d better hurry home!"

"Mine’s unpaid too—I thought I could stall a few more days by watching the Wang’s situation..."

Their good mood vanished instantly. Each hurried to gather their livestock and dashed into the village, leaving the riverside deserted.

Only the late autumn sun remained, casting its pale light on the river, cold and tranquil.

"Madam, please don’t cry, don’t cry. I swear I’m not here to collect rent today—not at all!" Under the same autumn chill, Ren Quan, his head wrapped in bandages, was parched from the sun. "Our master says all tenants can offset their rent with labor. Starting tomorrow, if you come to work at the estate, you’ll get two meals and five copper coins a day. Wages are offset against rent, five coins per peck of millet. Once your rent is cleared, any extra wages you earn you can take home!"

"Really?" The peasant woman, eyes brimming with tears, could hardly believe such good fortune. She glanced at her not-yet-grown daughter and quickly pushed the girl inside. "My Chou’er won’t go—she’s betrothed and must stay home to learn sewing. Steward, please have mercy. My husband’s gone to town looking for work. If you give us a few more days, as soon as he’s back, he’ll pay the rent!"

"What are you talking about? Who wants your daughter? Our master just needs workers to repair the canal, drain the fields, and fix the roads!" Ren Quan stomped his foot in exasperation. "I’m telling you, miss this chance and it won’t come again! Your husband can do as he likes!"

With that, he turned and strode to the next house. After only a few steps, a coquettish voice called out behind him, "Steward, sir, wait!"

"What is it?" Ren Quan turned to see the first housewife he’d notified, running over with a clay jug in hand, her toddler son in crotchless trousers trailing behind.

"Steward, have some water!" The sturdy woman, affecting shyness, set down a pottery bowl, filled it to the brim from her jug, then handed it to him with both hands. "You’ve worked so hard so early—please, have a drink to soothe your throat."

"Never mind, just say what you want. I’ve more houses to call on," Ren Quan said, frowning at the dirty stains on the bowl.

"Look, I may be a woman, but my father always made me work like a man!" She flexed her muscular arms. "Let me go to work too, with my husband. I won’t slack off, I promise—I’ll do more than any man!"

"You want to work?" Finally encountering someone who understood, Ren Quan looked her up and down and nodded. "Alright. My master said women can come to cook. Meals are free, wages are two coins a day!"

Thinking women were weaker, he halved the wage Zhang Qian had set for female workers. Even so, the woman cheered, "Thank you, Steward! Thank you! Let me salute you!" She performed a formal curtsey, then quickly straightened and pleaded, "Sir, if my husband’s wage goes to pay the rent, can I keep mine? Winter’s almost here, and we still have no quilts!"

"This..." Ren Quan hesitated, unsure if he should make that call. But seeing the sunny-faced boy behind her, he found his courage. "Fine. The man’s wage pays the rent, the woman’s wage you take home!"

He then turned to the old men returning from the river and raised his voice, "You all hear that? This is Master Zhang’s kindness to his neighbors! Rent can be paid with wages—five coins or one peck of millet per day. Once the rent’s cleared, any extra wages are yours, paid daily. Women who want to work can cook or help, two coins a day. If you want in, register with Zhang Ren today—after today, the chance is gone! Zhang Ren, set up here and take names!"

"Thank you, Steward!" Grateful voices rose all around, drowning out Zhang Ren’s reply.

Even those who’d doubted Ren Quan’s intentions now blushed, stepping forth to bow from a distance.

"If you don’t owe rent, can you still go? How’s the pay?" The donkey driver, late to return, called out breathlessly from the back. "I don’t owe, but the master can’t only reward those who owe, right? That would punish the honest!"

"Are you even listening to yourself?" This provoked outrage; the tenants glared at him.

"Everyone can work, even those who don’t owe! Wages are the same, paid at sunset every day," Ren Quan replied swiftly, sparing the donkey driver a beating. "If you owe, the man’s wage pays the debt, women keep their full wage. Winter’s coming—our master is kind, he won’t let his neighbors freeze or starve!"

"Steward, you are wise!"

"Our master has a heart of gold!"

A chorus of cheers erupted.

From the reeds by the river, startled wild geese took flight, soaring in a great V across the sky.

The autumn sun shone down, warming faces and hearts as never before.