His father had someone give him a bowl of sobering soup so he would clear his head a bit.
The shopkeeper, facing Fan Changyu, angrily demanded, “You scoundrel, did you send people to smash Fan’s stuff?”
The young master’s swollen, bleary eyes swept over Fan Changyu; he looked her over several times before sneering aloud, “Oh? You really are a strange kind of pretty—sleeping with Old Chef Li to snatch away my house’s business from Yixiang Restaurant, and you dare come to my door? Your face is thicker than a courtesan’s.”
It was well known that Yixiang Restaurant often bought famous dishes from elsewhere to put on its own menu.
That female manager of theirs had her own ways of doing business; others said what she did was not worth it, yet by gathering the best from many places Yixiang’s business far outshone other stubborn inns.
After all, those who could afford Yixiang were gentry and rich merchants with spare money. The town had only a few famous eateries; to eat there normally required sending someone several times over. At Yixiang, not only could one eat their private famous dishes, one could also call for a local specialty and it would be served at once.
So the town’s cake sellers, snack sellers, and braised-meat vendors all took pride in having ties to Yixiang.
Hearing the young master’s words, the crowd’s faces shifted—some surprised, some disbelieving, some merely there for the spectacle. Their eyes kept flicking to Fan Changyu; yes, her looks were fine, but with such a feisty temperament, people might more readily believe she was the bully taking business by force, that she had come to stir trouble over a little trade…
Everyone shivered inwardly—who wouldn’t be afraid to be thought a fool to her face? Those who had seen her slaughter pigs and cut meat wouldn’t dare fancy anything of her, surely.
The Wang shopkeeper widened his eyes and shouted, “My son, what nonsense are you talking?”
The young master paid him no mind; he was used to bullying men and women in town and did not take Fan Changyu, a mere woman, seriously. “Father, our business with Yixiang is already ruined—why not let me speak my mind? Are you still afraid of offending that old cook Li?”
He let his leering gaze sweep over Fan Changyu. “You slept with that old—”
With a loud bang.
Jin Laosan and the others glanced over. The heavy butcher’s block used to display braised meats at the front of Wang’s shop had been kicked over by Fan Changyu in one kick; the block even split open under the force, leaving a large hole. The braised meats spilled across the floor, and the still-drunk young master was pinned halfway under the fallen board.
He and his gang stared at the gaping hole in the iron pear wood and swallowed. They drew back, thinking that when this lady had taught them a lesson before, she had clearly held nothing back.
If she had used that force then, their bones would likely have been broken; now they were lucky to still be able to get out of bed.
The young master howled in pain and ordered the two lackeys beside him, “Are you dead or what? Hurry up and pull your young master out!”
The two lackeys looked at the black iron bone-cleaver Fan Changyu had produced, and at Jin Laosan and his men behind her—who were cracking their knuckles, ready to join the fight—and dared not step forward. Their legs, soft as noodles, retreated two steps.
The Wang shopkeeper’s brow ran with sweat at this show of force. Seeing Fan Changyu holding the cleaver, he grew afraid: “Miss Fan, my son speaks without restraint. I will certainly teach him a lesson; Miss Fan, please do not be angry…”
Fan Changyu ignored him. She stomped hard on the butcher’s block again; the board, which two men had only just managed to lift, tore open another large hole at her foot. The young master foamed at the mouth and instantly rolled his eyes back.
The onlookers gasped; some timid women even covered their eyes with sleeves for fear that the next moment Fan Changyu would bring that cleaver down on the young master’s head.
The Wang shopkeeper pointed at Fan Changyu and trembled as he said, “Y-you intend to kill someone?”
Fan Changyu glanced at him and sneered, “How would I kill someone? Killing requires sitting in the great jail. At most I’d cut out your good son’s tongue, make him chew it to pieces and swallow it himself, so he’d stop wagging his tongue.”
The Wang shopkeeper nearly lost his footing from those words and had to be supported by several lackeys so he wouldn’t collapse to the ground. His face went white; he pointed at Fan Changyu with shaking fingers yet could not form a single whole sentence.
The young master of Wang, who lay pinned beneath the board, now knew fear. His face drained of color; he cried and looked at his father, “Father, save me…”
The shopkeeper trembled, “Call the magistrate, quickly, call the magistrate…”
Wang’s lackeys wanted to go report it, but Jin Laosan and his men blocked them: “So you can bully people, but they aren’t allowed to seek justice?”
Fan Changyu slapped the young master’s nauseating fat face hard with the cleaver. “Tell me—when did I ever steal Yixiang’s business from you?”
The cleaver in her hand was heavy and cold; because she’d long cut bones and meat, the blade carried an inescapable metallic smell of blood. The young master’s half-face, patted by the blade, went numb; he trembled like a sieve. “W-Wang’s joint’s braised-meat deal with Yixiang stopped—heard… heard it was because Chef Li recommended your shop’s braised meats…”
Fan Changyu sneered, “Just for that, you concoct this against me?”
The women in the crowd, hearing the young master’s words, had not expected his earlier filth to be nothing more than this.
A woman’s chastity is so important—this was clearly an attempt to drive someone to ruin!
They spat on him fiercely. “What a wretch. Watching Fan’s braised meat flourish, now you use that girl’s reputation to make trouble?”
“No wonder I hadn’t seen Chef Li buying from Fan’s lately—he was avoiding suspicion because of this black-hearted scheme!”
“The Wang family’s rich and powerful, bullying an orphaned girl—shameless!”
“He’s always in brothels; that’s all he knows how to think about!”
“I’ll say it straight: Wang’s is big and arrogant; the taste got worse, and once I even bought rotten meat! No wonder Yixiang refused to keep buying their braised meat!”
Hearing these remarks, the Wang shopkeeper grew agitated and stomped his foot: “My son! My son!”
The young master cried with snot and tears, begging, “Please spare me! I’ll give you money! Lots and lots of money! I know your family needs it—”
Fan Changyu did not speak. Her gaze was fierce. She threw the cleaver hard onto the ground.
At the sight, the onlookers cried out in shock; the Wang shopkeeper nearly rolled his eyes and fainted, and the young master screamed in terror.
Crack.
The blade did not strike the young master but cut along his scalp, severing his hairpiece and a clump of hair; the tip of the blade lodged into the bluestone pavement, the blade trembling.
After a long moment, the young master came to his senses. His face was as white as a corpse; a foul stench rose from beneath the board, and a yellowish puddle spread under it.
The Wang shopkeeper was supported by his lackeys and panted heavily.
Feeling the cold against his scalp, the young master’s courage broke; he no longer cared for face or pride, only screamed and bawled: “Don’t kill me, don’t kill me!”
The shopkeeper had only this one good-for-nothing son and begged tearfully, “Miss Fan, my son speaks without restraint and has harmed your reputation. I will certainly punish him properly. I will prepare a humble gift and personally come to your residence to apologize. In ancient times one could cut hair in place of cutting heads; you have cut his hair—be magnanimous and spare him!”
Fan Changyu sheathed her cleaver and coldly looked at the young master. “Don’t let me see you again.”
She lifted her cleaver and left without another glance at the Wang father and son.
The young master of the Wang family had bullied men and women alike for years; for Fan Changyu to teach him a lesson today was nothing short of satisfying.
The onlookers even cheered and clapped, shouting: “Well done! Serves him right!”
“Lucky she’s the daughter of Old Tiger Fan. If it were anyone else getting bullied like that, no one would answer even if they cried to heaven or earth!”
“Exactly—remember that village girl from the Liu family? Pretty as a flower, but that Wang brat got her belly big and then refused to acknowledge it. Poor girl drowned herself in the river!”
“That’s just one case we heard about. Who knows how many vile things he’s done behind people’s backs! His braised meat isn’t half as good as Fan’s either. Fan’s meat is slaughtered fresh each day—who knows what kind of meat he uses?”
The Wang shopkeeper’s old face nearly fell to the ground hearing the crowd’s pointing fingers and biting remarks.
The plank pinning his son was finally lifted by two panting lackeys. The grown man, covered in sweat and tears, turned to his father and cried, “Father…”
But instead of comfort, the enraged shopkeeper kicked him twice. “You useless wretch! It’s one thing to waste your days in brothels, but now this! You’ve disgraced the entire Wang family today!”
· ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Fan Changyu paid no further heed to what happened behind her at Wang’s shop. Having vented her anger, she was about to head home when someone suddenly called out from behind her, “Miss Fan, please wait.”
Fan Changyu turned around in confusion and saw a man with a thin mustache walking toward her. “Miss Fan, what fine skills you have! I’m the manager of Huixian Bank. Would you be interested in working for us?”
“Bank?” Fan Changyu frowned. “What would I do there?”
The manager smiled with narrowed eyes. “Debt collection.”
Fan Changyu: “…”
Jin Laosan and his gang were already cracking their knuckles. “Miss Fan, if you take on that job, we’ll follow you!”
Fan Changyu glared at them. “Didn’t you all say you wanted to earn an honest living?”
At once, Jin Laosan and the others hunched their shoulders and fell silent.
Fan Changyu declined the manager’s offer. The man didn’t press her, merely handed her a sheet of paper before leaving. It listed all the “benefits” of becoming a debt enforcer at Huixian Bank. “Miss Fan need not decide right away—please think it over.”
Fan Changyu held the paper, her mood tangled. In the eyes of the townsfolk, what kind of person had she become now?
She sighed and turned to leave. Ahead, at the mouth of the snowy street, stood a man. Snowflakes drifted through the air; his wide robes billowed in the wind. Behind him bustled the noisy marketplace, while his cold, calm brows and eyes watched her with a subtle, unreadable expression.
Fan Changyu glanced down at the paper in her hand—the one with “Debt Collection” written on it—and blurted out instinctively, “I wasn’t robbing anyone.”
Jin Laosan and the others spotted Xie Zheng, and their spines straightened at once as they chorused, “Good day, Young Master!”
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