Chapter 12 Refusal: I Want to See Miss Meng, Meng Lingyao
Several letters arrived from home, and Meng Lingyao, unable to refuse any longer, reluctantly packed her bags.
If she doesn't return home soon, Madam Zhong will probably rush to Qingluan Mountain to capture her.
On the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month, the day the Kitchen God ascends to heaven, Meng Lingyao followed the sweet fragrance into the city. In order to prevent the Kitchen God from saying too many bad things about her, each family used various tricks.
Just as I rounded the screen wall, I heard my mother scolding me in the hall, "Who was it that placed the honey offerings in front of the Buddha shrine today? Couldn't you see that they were crooked? Master is so kind, and you all just do things so carelessly. It's truly outrageous!"
The housekeeper's maid stepped forward and said, "Reporting to Madam, it's just that the young maid is inexperienced and doesn't do things properly. She didn't mean it. Please don't take offense, Madam. I will definitely train her properly in the future."
Madam Zhong then took the opportunity to give him another dressing down.
During the New Year, there are many guests coming and going, so the servants need to be on their best. This happens every year. The mother and her servants take turns playing the good cop and the bad cop to keep the servants in the household alert.
Meng Lingyao took a deep breath, tiptoed, and tried to avoid this troublesome place. She had only taken two steps when a dignified voice came from behind her.
"stop--"
Meng Lingyao stopped, stood still, turned around, her eyes full of smiles, and sweetly called out, "Mother, I'm back."
"Oh, who do we have here? It's Miss Meng. I thought you'd forgotten which way the gates of the Meng residence face after all this time you've been gone."
"How could that be? My daughter thinks about her mother all the time. She can't eat or sleep well because she misses her so much."
Her tone was quite sincere, but her fair complexion and lively eyes made her seem rather unconvincing.
Madam Zhong tapped her nose with annoyance, "You little ingrate."
"Mother, please calm down." Meng Lingyao smiled and nuzzled against her, waving for the maids and servants to leave. She then took out a glove from her bosom. "Look, a white fox fur glove. Try it on."
Madam Zhong refused to answer, her face stern. "Where did this come from?"
Meng Lingyao pulled her mother over, put on the snow-white gloves, and explained what had happened in a few words, "...Chengyu has never liked plain colors, so she gave them all to me. One for each of us, mother and daughter, is just right."
Madam Zhong stroked the soft fur, but couldn't help but laugh. "The Princess meant well, but you've used it to curry favor with me. Alright, you must be tired after sitting in the carriage for so long. Go back and get some rest."
Meng Lingyao was about to agree when Madam Zhong added, "The managers of several shops will be coming tomorrow; you'll need to help entertain them."
Her smile vanished instantly, and Meng Lingyao still tried to whine, "Mother..."
Madam Zhong had already turned her head away, clearly indicating that there was no room for further discussion.
Maintaining such a large mansion requires more than just Meng Shaoqing's salary; shops and estates within the mansion are essential sources of income.
Knowing the importance of things, Meng Lingyao got ready early the next morning and took Cang Dian to the front courtyard, where several stewards were waiting.
The crackling sound of the burning charcoal brazier in the corner only amplified the silence of the room; you could even hear the beads of sweat falling to the ground.
Meng Lingyao flipped through the restaurant's ledgers, then suddenly snapped them shut. Her gaze locked onto a man on her left. "Manager Chen, fresh bamboo shoots at this time of year should cost no more than fifty coins a pound. How come you've recorded one hundred and twenty coins in your ledger?"
Manager Chen's face twitched slightly as he wiped his sweat and explained, "Miss, you may not know this, but this winter the snow has been heavy and the mountain roads are difficult to travel. Farmers selling bamboo shoots have all raised their prices."
"Is that so?" Her voice trailed off, soft and lingering, but to the stewards it sounded like a demonic whisper.
"And what about the river fish? This year the aquatic plants are plentiful, and the catch is even better than before, yet the restaurant's purchase price has more than doubled." Meng Lingyao questioned coldly, "Not to mention that there are at least forty jars of liquor that have been bought and sold. Do you think I'm blind?"
Manager Chen knelt down with a thud, "Business is just so difficult..."
"Manager Chen has a bad memory; he said the same thing last year."
Last year, Madam Zhong took Meng Lingyao to look at the account books. At that time, she privately told her daughter that there were some discrepancies in the Juxianglou account books.
Water that is too clear has no fish. If subordinates occasionally skim some profits, as long as it's not too excessive, it's usually overlooked.
But some people did not repent and even went further.
She slightly raised her chin, gesturing for Cang Dian to help the man up. "Bad business is no excuse for your embezzlement. Go to the accounting office and collect your wages for one month. You don't need to come back."
"Miss, Miss, I was just confused for a moment," Manager Chen groveled on the ground, refusing to get up. "I'll never do it again, please forgive me this time, just this once..."
Meng Lingyao didn't even glance at him. She lowered her eyes and flipped through another ledger, saying calmly, "Since Steward Chen can't leave on his own, why don't you give him a hand?"
"yes."
Several tall and burly guards stepped through the door, half-carrying and half-dragging, taking the mangled-looking Steward Chen out.
The remaining managers in the room looked at each other, and unconsciously straightened their backs and stood up straighter.
Objectively speaking, the work at the Meng residence wasn't too difficult. Compared to other residences near the capital, the master was understanding and never made unreasonable demands. He also gave generous rewards during festivals, making it an excellent place to work.
Manager Chen doesn't cherish it, but they do.
It took half a morning to entertain the managers. After seeing them off, Meng Lingyao picked up her teacup and drank most of it in one gulp.
Cang Dian stepped forward and poured her some more tea. "Miss, you've really given Manager Chen some face. For a restaurant like this that buys so much, fresh bamboo shoots don't even cost forty coins. And those river fish, they're only one qian of silver each! If they're really that expensive, why would I be doing this job? I might as well go fishing."
Meng Lingyao glanced at him sideways.
Cang Dian chuckled, "But he wasn't entirely talking nonsense." He said seriously, "Our Juxianglou's business is indeed not good. Zuixianlou now attracts many new customers with its singing and dancing performances, and Keyunju has hired chefs from Sichuan at great expense and introduced many new dishes. Only Juxianglou..."
"I know." Meng Lingyao rubbed her temples, unable to think of any good ideas for the moment. "Let's discuss it again after the New Year."
"Miss, all the New Year's gifts have arrived." Songlan quickly stepped over the threshold, looked up and met her mistress's bright eyes, and said with a forced smile, "Madam wants you to go and take a look."
"I'll go right away."
Meng Lingyao's vision and dizziness immediately cleared up, and she stood up as soon as she grabbed the handrail.
Of all the things she had to do before the New Year, this was her favorite.
Admiring the variety of gifts and then picking out suitable return gifts from the storeroom is much more interesting than counting them.
She dared to say that she remembered the best things in her family's storeroom better than the booklet in Madam Zhong's hand.
“Miss.” Songlan took out an exquisite sandalwood box from a pile of gift boxes. “It was sent by Young Master Zhou.”
Meng Lingyao frowned slightly and pushed open the box lid.
Inside the box is a painting of bamboo in snow by Gu Wanyuan, a master painter from the previous dynasty. After a heavy snowfall, several thick bamboo stalks stand tall and vigorous, their sinews and branches gleaming.
If someone truly loves painting, they would probably never want to let go of this painting once they see it.
Thankfully, she wasn't.
Meng Lingyao stared at the signature for a while and said, "Go to the storeroom and get that forty-year-old ginseng. Send it back along with the painting, saying that it is too precious to accept and that the ginseng is a gift for the old lady to nourish her body."
Based on current market prices, this painting could sell for a hundred taels of gold.
Having heard that Zhou Yizhi never does business at a loss, she is currently unwilling to do this deal with him.
"Yes." Songlan wrote down the young lady's arrangements on a piece of paper so that she could give instructions one by one later.
Meng Lingyao gently stroked the edge of the sandalwood box with her fingertips, then suddenly asked, "Is there any news from the Lu family?"
Cang Dian immediately perked up, "The latest news from Wu County came two days ago: the head of the Lu family committed suicide on the way to the capital. There hasn't been much movement in the capital; the Dali Temple is keeping a tight rein on things. However—"
He lowered his voice and said mysteriously, "I heard from the vendors near the Dali Temple government office that as soon as they set up their stalls each day, the constables would come asking for food. They all looked very tired, so things probably weren't going well."
Meng Lingyao sneered, "He actually has quite the integrity of a scholar."
Meng Lingyao frowned unconsciously, thinking to herself, "Pei Xu has all these skills, yet he doesn't do his official duties properly and instead goes to his manor in the mountains to escape to a life of leisure."
That's outrageous.
-
On the twenty-fourth day of the twelfth lunar month, a thin layer of snow had accumulated on the pair of xiezhi (mythical beasts) in front of the Dali Temple. Pei Xu walked in along the swept bluestone path when a flustered figure emerged from the side gate.
"Lord Meng." He bowed respectfully.
The pile of documents in Meng Yan's arms was almost blocking his view. He peeked out with difficulty and said, "Good morning, Lord Pei."
The documents were teetering on the verge of falling, and Pei Xu reached out to steady them.
Meng Yan quickly thanked him, and before he could reply, he hurriedly said, "I have important business to attend to at the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, so I'll be leaving now!"
Yue Meng yawned as he walked out the door, watching the hurried figure disappear into the distance and chuckling to himself, “These days, the Taichang Temple and the Dali Temple are the busiest in the entire capital – one is busy with ancestral worship, and the other is busy sending people on their way.”
"Lord Meng came here to take a shortcut, but I don't know who discovered the path..." Yue Meng glanced at his superior's expression and tentatively asked, "Sir, should we seal that gate? After all, there are many things in the Dali Temple that should not be publicized."
"No need."
Pei Xu withdrew his gaze and walked inside. "Lu Heming hasn't confessed yet?"
"Yes." Yue Meng's brows furrowed into a knot. "He was barely alive, but he stubbornly refused to say anything."
Otherwise, they wouldn't have specifically sent a message to Pei Xu, as he would be spending these last few days before the New Year with the Eldest Princess. This has been the custom for years, and they, as his subordinates, know it all too well; even the Emperor himself has given special instructions.
How could the widow of General Pei, the current Grand Princess, not take good care of her?
Yue Meng grabbed a handful of hair. "That old man from the Lu family swallowed a shard of porcelain, and the rest of the clan was completely unaware. Right now, only..."
Before he could finish speaking, a jailer rushed over, "Sir, Lu Heming is making a scene and wants to see you!"
"Hey!" Yue Meng's eyes widened in anger. "Does he think this is a fancy restaurant? He actually ordered food!"
Pei Xu raised his hand to stop him from speaking and gestured for the jailer to lead the way.
The dungeon was damp and musty, with a smell of blood mixed in. Lu Heming leaned against the straw mat, humming a broken tune, as if he were not in a prison but on a painted boat on the Suzhou River.
“Lord Lu, you have quite the mood,” Jian Su mocked. “Even on the verge of death, you still have the interest to sing. If you confess honestly, you might be able to sing for a few more days.”
His eyes were fixed on the people in the prison through the bars, and the dark circles under his eyes were particularly noticeable.
For a moment, it was impossible to tell which one was the eagle that had been tortured.
Lu Heming closed his eyes, not even looking at him, "You can't make the decision, I want to see Pei Xu."
"you--"
"Jian Su." Pei Xu slowly walked out of the dimly lit corridor and said calmly, "Go down."
"yes."
Upon seeing the visitor, Jian Su's tense body suddenly relaxed. He bowed slightly and withdrew.
Hearing the noise, Lu Heming rolled over, pushed himself up with his hands, and staggered a few steps closer. His hair was disheveled, his clothes were tattered, and his hands, which were usually used for writing, were now covered in blood.
He gripped the railing tightly, his eyes burning with intensity, and spoke each word clearly.
"I want to see Miss Meng, Meng Lingyao."
"I'll tell her anything as long as I see her."
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