Chapter 41. Fusu: I have plenty of ways. ...
For a moment, everyone present was astonished.
Fusu looked around at the faces of the crowd, all visibly shocked and bewildered. Even though he wasn't one to seek the limelight, he was now thoroughly enjoying the thrill of being in the spotlight. Turns out, showing off in front of everyone is really fun, huh?
In particular, his deeds were not told by himself, but were personally endorsed by Yang Anguo, the chief priest. This not only adds credibility but also further emphasizes his image as a behind-the-scenes mastermind (crossed out) and a hermit sage.
Fusu subtly raised his head slightly so that the gaze falling on him could be properly taken in.
He noticed that, unlike others, Cheng Hao's gaze lingered on him for two seconds before quickly averting as if on fire. His lips turned pale, and his face was filled with panic. He looked to the Chancellor Yang Anguo for help, seemingly unwilling to accept reality. But the latter offered no words of comfort, nodding to Fusu: "Tell everyone what you think."
"Actually, I just wanted everyone to vote for the best dishes at first," Fusu said. "I once strolled through the streets of Bianjing. The better the food, the more people stopped at the stalls, and the better their business became. Conversely, if the food was bad, it would be deserted, and you wouldn't see anyone for days. Later, I thought, it would be great if this principle could also be applied to the dining hall."
This was the explanation he had prepared from the beginning, to deal with related questions. Now it seems it worked very well. Not only did no one doubt him, but they all showed thoughtful expressions.
Fan Chunren summed it up in one sentence: "The capable rise, the mediocre fall."
Fusu gave a thumbs up: "Senior brother, you've got it!"
That's not entirely the case; the more important factor is marketization. However, since the canteen is a state-owned enterprise, it cannot operate entirely in a market-driven manner, so an artificial institution must be set up for regulation.
There was no need to worry about the dining hall being unhappy, since the emperor had personally approved the meal allowance. The Imperial Academy's actions were simply a matter of understanding the emperor's intentions.
Yang Anguo nodded and then asked, "Brother Cheng, what do you intend to do?"
"Yes... I made the mistake of judging people by their appearance and speaking rashly." Cheng Hao took difficult steps, but he did not retreat. He walked straight to Fusu and bowed deeply to him: "Young Master Zhao, I was ignorant and spoke rudely to you in public earlier. I apologize to you here."
His bow was more than ninety degrees, and his apology was clear and sincere, so Fusu naturally had no reason not to forgive him. But he secretly glanced at Yang Anguo: it seemed that the Chancellor was still biased towards his student. He seemed to be supporting him on their first meeting, but in reality, every word he said was urging Cheng Hao to apologize on the spot, otherwise, who knew what his reputation would be like if word got out.
Fan Chunren relaxed immediately, whether for the perfect resolution of the situation or for the fact that he didn't have to mediate. He laughed and said, "So the committee's idea was Zhao Xiaolang's? Just based on what you said, Xiaolang, you're only a matter of time before you're promoted to the Zhishizhai."
Li Guanlan nudged Zeng Gong: "I thought you were joking. Turns out you have a keen eye and saw through Zhao Xiaolang's talent at a glance?"
Zeng Gong smiled but remained silent.
Actually, I was secretly surprised.
Don't be fooled by Fusu's seemingly casual words. Everyone here has strolled through the streets of Bianjing. Who could possibly draw such a connection between this and that the Imperial Academy's dining hall had to compete like street vendors?
That's an extraordinary talent.
Even more so than the poems written by Fusu, which caught the attention of Zeng Gong, who preferred practical work.
Yang Anguo suddenly spoke up: "Alright, let's leave it at that. Have you all read the committee's charter?"
"yes."
"I've seen it."
"Then let's proceed according to the regulations. You can discuss and decide on the division of labor yourselves. Once everything is ready, we'll try it out in the dining hall. I will also submit a memorial to the Emperor at that time."
Upon hearing the word "Your Majesty," everyone's expressions turned serious. Yang Anguo nodded in satisfaction and then called out two more names: "Su Shi and Zhao Zongsu, you two come with me for a moment. I have something to ask you."
What are children most afraid of?
I hate it when adults call me by my full name!
Fusu subconsciously shuddered, pondering what he had done recently... Could it be that his stall at the Xiangguo Temple night market had been discovered? Right, when they chased away the thugs, they mentioned that they were students of the Imperial Academy!
Fusu shrank back and glanced furtively in Su Shi's direction. He saw that even the usually fearless man was biting his lip and staring at his toes. Fan Chunren, the only one who knew the inside story, patted each of their heads with one hand: "The Chief Minister is waiting for you. Go quickly."
Then, in a very low voice, he said, "Don't worry, the chief priest is not a pedantic person."
I know, I know. How could someone who adopts the suggestions of a three-year-old and boldly includes people in the committee be a pedant? But Fusu was a little scared, afraid that the teacher's influence was probably ingrained in his DNA and couldn't be changed.
He took a hesitant step forward.
Su Shi followed closely behind.
The two of them, like two penguins, waddled behind Yang Anguo into the empty classroom next door. Seeing their dejected appearance, Yang Anguo suddenly laughed: "You've actually made something of yourself, Imperial College students setting up stalls at the night market..."
Fusu's heart skipped a beat: Oh no, it really is this matter.
"They've actually caused such a disturbance in the entire Eighth Prince's residence that the Prince himself has come to confront me!"
"ah?"
"ah?"
"You want 'Huh?'? I want 'Huh?' even more!"
Yang Anguo was so angry at their expressions that he almost laughed: "I thought the Eighth Prince had come to the gate of the Imperial College for some reason, but it turns out he just wanted to inquire about two students who sell sugar paintings at a stall."
Fusu realized that Yang Anguo didn't seem to be blaming him much, so he raised his eyes and asked cautiously, "Then... what happened that caused so much trouble at the Eighth Prince's residence?"
"It is said that the Eighth Prince's grandson brought home a sugar-painted rabbit, claiming that he had drawn it himself. His brothers and sisters all wanted it when they saw it, and in the struggle, the rabbit was accidentally broken on the ground. The whole mansion was filled with wailing and crying, which alarmed the prince himself."
Su Shi automatically added the follow-up: "Then, the prince sent people to the night market again, but they couldn't find any trace of me and Zhao Xiaolang. They could only ask around and, after hearing that we were suspected to be from the Imperial Academy, they came to you specifically."
Yang Anguo nodded.
"Ah, it's him!" Fusu immediately recognized him: "The one who drew the rabbit himself, isn't that young master from that family?"
It was the little boy who, after spinning the wheel until the goldfish cried, was coaxed by Fusu to draw a rabbit. Fusu remembered him well because he looked about the same age as him. He never expected that the boy was a grandson of the Eighth Prince's family. A quick calculation revealed that they were even cousins within the fifth degree of kinship.
Su Shi also thought of this: "I didn't expect that he was related to you. What a coincidence!"
Yang Anguo said patiently, "The Eighth Prince originally wanted you to go to his residence in person. However, given your connection with Zong Su, you can decide for yourselves; I will not interfere."
Originally, the two parties were relatives and students. The Eighth Prince was powerful, and Yang Anguo, as the Grand Master of Ceremonies, should have given him face. However, Fusu's status turned it into an internal matter of the imperial clan, and outsiders could not interfere. As for whether it was a gesture of goodwill or an insult for one member of the imperial clan to sell candy to another, that was a matter of opinion.
Su Shi also came to his senses: "Zhao Xiaolang, do you want to go?"
Fusu rested his chin on his hand, pondered for a while, then looked up and asked very seriously, "Did the people sent by the Eighth Prince mention any reward? How much? If it's not much, I won't go."
Yang Anguo: "..."
He said, both amused and annoyed, "He's a first-rank prince, how could he possibly shortchange you on money!"
That's not necessarily true.
Fusu thought to himself: I am also a first-rank prince, but I still have to sell sugar to make a living.
But on the surface, he readily agreed: "Then let's go!"
Yang Anguo, with an expression that suggested he had expected this, waved his hand helplessly: "Sigh, you lot, never mind. The people sent by the Eighth Prince's Mansion are waiting for me. You can go and discuss with them when it's appropriate to visit. Remember, commerce is a profession, and you must not become so engrossed in it that it interferes with the important matters of a scholar, understand?"
"I've heard that you two have both made bold statements, wanting to be promoted to the Management Hall together?" Yang Anguo chuckled. "Then I'll eagerly await the day I can see you both in the Management Hall."
"..."
What a juicy gossip, Master Ji!
Fusu thought to himself: How do you know everything?
"By the way, did you sell your sugar paintings to any other powerful or wealthy people? I can't afford to have another one come knocking on my door."
"...That's all, isn't it?" Fusu and Sushi looked at each other, recalling for a moment: apart from the young magistrate who was confirmed to be the grandson of the Eighth Prince, there seemed to be no one else with outstanding attire.
"Wait a minute." Fusu suddenly remembered someone: "Does Mr. Mei from our prison count? I gave him a sugar painting at the beginning."
"What?! The painting that Sheng Yu flaunts every day was actually a gift from you?"
Yang Anguo let out a startled cry, then realized why a mere sugar painting would prompt the Eighth Prince to send someone to the Imperial Academy. Its shimmering, colorful appearance, coupled with the poetic and artistic conception, was astonishing even to him, and he even felt a touch of envy.
Should I also give Zhao Xiaolang a copy of my poetry collection, as a subtle hint...? Yang Anguo, who had just said "Don't get too engrossed in your studies," blushed slightly, moved his lips, and finally gave up.
"Then, Chief Priest? Can we leave now?"
The conversation with his teacher made Su Shi feel uneasy. After receiving approval, he grabbed Fusu and ran off. Once they were in a secluded spot, his expression hardened: "What, young man, you really didn't need to do this for me..."
Fusu feigned ignorance: "What?"
"Of course, we'll go to the Eighth Prince's Mansion," Su Shi said.
"What's wrong with that?"
Fusu beckoned Su Shi closer with his index finger: "Brother Su, let me teach you a saying: 'Not making money when you can is foolish.' Even in my own home, it's not easy to make money for free."
This is the truth.
He had almost no source of income while in the palace.
Su Shi: "..."
“You know perfectly well that’s not what I meant. The Eighth Prince’s grandson is also a cousin of an official, but so are you! Why should you go to his house to paint for him?”
Won't this make the royal family lose face and become a laughing stock?
—It must be that the Eighth Prince was afraid I would come to his house.
Fusu said, "Does the Eighth Prince really want students from the Imperial Academy to draw candy at his residence and then openly promote it? He is the most senior among the Emperor's close relatives; he wouldn't do such a thing. You can rest assured."
Moreover, these were merely two commoners who came to appease the child, far from deserving of a personal audience from the elderly prince, thus avoiding the risk of the uncle being frightened to death. It should be noted that he and the Eighth Prince had met at the banquet celebrating his enfeoffment as a prince at the age of three, and the Eighth Prince had even presented him with a generous gift.
You can make money, the risk is low, and you can go out and have fun openly and legitimately. What reason is there not to go?
Fusu even tried to persuade Su Shi: "After this order is completed, Dongjun will not have to worry about dried fish for at least three months. You can buy whatever you want to eat."
Su Shi looked utterly defeated: "I'm the one who's short of money, so why are you so eager to go... Fine, fine, I'll go, okay?"
"Then it's settled. Let's go find the people from the Eighth Prince's mansion."
As Yang Anguo had predicted, the people of the Eighth Prince's residence waited quietly. When they arrived, they were extremely welcoming, as if they had survived a calamity. It seemed they had been thoroughly tormented by their little darlings at home.
They were not only warm and friendly, but also very easy to talk to, without putting on any airs of a prince. After Fusu told them his convenient time, they agreed without haggling and generously took out several strings of copper coins as a deposit, telling them to prepare the raw materials properly.
The heavy weight made Fusu's arm sink a little.
After the servants of the Eighth Prince's residence left, Fusu suddenly asked Su Shi, "Are you free on your next day off?"
"What's wrong... Aside from going to see Dongjun, you should be fine."
“I have an older sister who has always wanted to go out and have fun. I plan to pick her up from the palace next weekend. However, we are all unfamiliar with Bianjing, so I have to ask you to do it for us.”
"No problem, leave it to me! I'll make sure she has a great time." Su Shi immediately agreed: "How much older is your older sister than you?"
Two years old.
"Two years older, what a coincidence, my elder sister is also two years older than me. I wonder how she and my brother Zhe are doing in Meishan?" Su Shi said with a look of longing.
Fusu remained silent, recalling the fate of Su Shi and Su Zhe's elder sister, Su Ba Niang: her parents arranged for her to marry her cousin, Cheng Zhicai, hoping to strengthen family ties and bring her a smoother life after marriage. However, she did not live a good life and died young at the age of eighteen.
They all married their cousins, all had unhappy marriages, and all died young... their fates were strikingly similar to those of Princess Fukang.
Miao Wu still has his help in planning, but what about Su Ba Niang? I only hope that Su Xun can pass the imperial examination soon and become a high-ranking official in the capital, so that Su Ba Niang will also become someone the Cheng family can't reach, and will not have to repeat her tragic fate.
"Young Master? Young Master?" Su Shi's voice suddenly rang out.
"……Um?"
"It's time to go back; the committee members are still waiting for us!"
"Oh, okay, let's go then."
Su Shi said, "I wonder if they have divided up the work yet? I wish I could be assigned an easy task."
Fusu: "With Senior Brother Fan here, it won't happen."
Su Shi looked terrified: "Ah? You mean Senior Brother Fan will target us? No! I still need to study hard for the recitation and the evening meal ceremony!"
"What are you thinking? Also, what kind of image does Senior Brother Fan have in your mind? I mean, with him around, the distribution will definitely be very fair."
Neither of them took Cheng Hao's targeting to heart.
Su Shi was simply magnanimous, while Fusu seemed to have a historical perspective: after all, he was a great scholar of Neo-Confucianism, and if he had done anything shameful, it would have been exposed and discussed long ago (for example, the rumor that Zhu Xi had an affair with his daughter-in-law). Since he didn't, it shows that his character was still trustworthy.
As Fusu had predicted, things turned out exactly as he had expected.
When they returned to their original positions, the committee had already made preliminary divisions of labor. After all, they were pillars of society carefully selected by the Chief Scholar; how could their efficiency not be high?
However, Fan Chunren still adhered to a democratic approach: "Zhao Xiaolang, Su Xiaolang, do you have any other ideas?"
Fusu glanced at it briefly and immediately replied, "No!"
It must be said that the division of labor in the final draft was very clear: Fan Chunren, Zeng Gong, and Li Guanlan were responsible for communicating with the dining hall, Fusu and Su Shi collected the students' opinions on the dishes, and Cheng Hao coordinated and directed the process.
The most troublesome, most likely to offend people, and most contentious issues involving staff disputes were handled by the three adults, all of whom were now adults. Cheng Hao was dignified and had a comprehensive understanding of the situation.
Two little ones are perfect for mentoring students. After all, no one would want to speak harshly to two toddlers, one seven and the other three, right?
The division of labor was reasonable, everyone's strengths were taken into account, and care for young children was shown in the details.
Fu Su sighed from the bottom of his heart, "Senior Brother Fan, you truly live up to your reputation."
He decided to write a letter to the emperor tonight, in which he would properly praise his senior brother. Well, how could something so heartfelt be considered using connections?
Fan Chunren smiled faintly: "You should think carefully about how to gather the opinions of about a hundred people from the Imperial Academy across the country. If you can't figure it out, you can come and discuss it with me or other senior brothers."
Fusu confidently declined the offer: "I have a way of doing this. Senior brothers, just you wait and see."
Rather, he had too many options and didn't know which one to use.
"Oh? Then we'll just stand by and watch."
"There must be a way. After all, it's Zhao Xiaolang. Without him, how could we be gathered here?"
Li Guanlan exclaimed, "Huh? Zhao Xiaolang, why is your face red?"
A burst of laughter erupted from the crowd.
Fusu puffed out his cheeks and said angrily, "Don't think I don't know you're making fun of me! You know perfectly well that I don't like hearing people praise me!"
"What? We've been discovered."
Haha ...
"..."
"you!"
Fusu stomped his foot in anger, but amidst the laughter, the downward corners of his mouth turned into a helpless smile.
-
That night, the moon was bright and the stars were few.
Su Shi knocked on the door of Fusu's dormitory, and a deep voice came from inside: "The door is open, just come in."
Su Shi slipped in and saw Fusu hunched over his desk, writing and drawing on the snow-white Xuan paper: "Oh, are you writing a letter home?"
"Yes. My parents are worried about me."
Fusu said helplessly.
This was one of the conditions that allowed him to study at the Imperial Academy under an assumed name. The government also strictly stipulated that even if nothing happened that day and there was nothing to say, one had to write a few words to let family know that everything was alright.
It's just a pity for Liang Huaiji, who runs errands between two points every day.
However, Fusu wasn't just making conversation today. He had many things on his mind: asking the Empress to prepare the ingredients for his sugar painting, and telling Miaowu that he could go out to play in a few days…
So, using ingredients from the palace kitchen to make sugar paintings for the Eighth Prince's residence, and then turning around and pocketing the prince's reward, wouldn't that be considered a form of freeloading...?
Hmm...it's so subtle.
Fusu shook his head, deciding to stop thinking about it. Although the letters were all obviously cryptic, Fusu didn't hide anything. After writing them, he stuffed them into envelopes and laid them out casually on his desk.
Su Shi had no doubt that he had come tonight for another matter: "What method did you mean by the one you mentioned during the day? Tell me about it."
"You go first."
"The only solution I can think of is... to let everyone vote on whether they like the food in the cafeteria or not?"
"right!"
Fusu nodded vigorously: "Not only should we vote, but we should also interview a few classmates to understand their thoughts on each dish."
Only in this way can we understand the true thoughts of our classmates from both a broad and deep perspective. Fu Su's mentor from his previous life had repeatedly emphasized the importance of rigorous investigation. He admitted that he had only learned the basics, but it was more than enough to deal with the current situation.
Fortunately, the Imperial College's dining hall was open to the public free of charge. If it had been a paid service, it would have been more complicated. Besides "whether you like it or not," there would have been an additional criterion of "whether you want it to be kept." Because there are bound to be people who don't like certain dishes but want them to be kept for various reasons (such as being cheap).
"But how do we find out? Do we really have to go up and ask them one by one?" Just imagining that scene made even a hermit like Su Shi feel a bit of a headache.
Fusu shook his finger and picked up the paper on the table: "Come and look at this."
"What is it?" Su Shi asked, puzzled, and looked at it as instructed. After a moment, his eyes widened in surprise: "This is...!"
-
One day later.
Astute students have noticed that there seem to be subtle changes in the Imperial Academy's dining hall.
At the entrance of the dining hall, a wall was covered with wooden plaques, resembling a staggered arrangement of wind chimes. Upon closer inspection, it was discovered that each plaque bore the name of a dish.
Some people muttered to themselves: It's not a restaurant, why are they imitating their style? Doesn't it seem shabby to list these dishes?
Rice pounded into a paste.
Pickled cucumber.
Salted fermented black beans.
Radish soup.
Could it be something that committee did a few days ago?
Just as he was about to turn and leave, he noticed with his sharp eyes that under each dish were two stick-shaped containers with signs that read "All Five Flavors" and "Tasteless". At the very edge were two large stick containers, one containing bamboo sticks painted red and the other black.
"Is this asking us to... vote?" the person muttered.
"right!"
A soft, sweet voice suddenly rang out from behind, startling the passing student: "It's you, Zhao Xiaolang! You really scared me to death!"
Fusu touched his own white, soft skin and said, "I'm sorry."
Is he quite famous at the Imperial College now?
Fusu clasped his hands together and said, "So, senior brother, could you please vote for us? Consider it support for my work, please!"
Being attacked by the adorable cub's big, watery eyes is hard for most people to resist, and this man was no exception. He nodded dazedly, recalling the taste of today's meal, and pulled out a few red and black bamboo skewers.
"I really voted?"
"Okay, please!"
Just as the student was about to throw the ball into the corresponding tube, he was startled by a sudden, soft voice.
"The Dietary Improvement Committee is conducting a satisfaction survey on the school cafeteria. Those who complete the questionnaire will receive a limited-edition inkstone. Opportunities are limited, first come, first served!"
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