Chapter Seventy-Eight: Come, Senior Brother Will Teach You the Mohist Secret Techniques

Pulling on the thickened boxing gloves, crafted overnight by Zijuan and the maidservants from cowhide and padded with silk, and donning a helmet hastily made by a carpenter, Zhang Qian tossed another set of gear to Ren Cong and led him straight toward the newly established training ground in the rear garden.

“Senior brother, spare me! Even if I borrowed a hundredfold courage, I wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you!” Sensing the impending storm since last night, Ren Cong immediately surrendered, clutching his head and pleading for mercy.

“Nonsense, I’m instructing you in the art. Our founder of the Mohist School, upon hearing the state of Chu planned to attack Song, ran ten days and nights from Lu to the capital of Chu, stopping the king from marching, and you think that was just because he was persuasive?” Shooting a cold glance at the pale-faced Ren Cong, Zhang Qian gritted his teeth with a smirk. “The early Mohist leaders traveled between states, quelling wars for the people, even daring to storm the lords’ camps and rebuke them face to face. How could they have managed that without some skill? Come, come, I’ve been too busy lately and neglected your lessons. From today, we’ll make up for it.”

“Senior brother, I’m dizzy, so dizzy!”

“No matter, two punches from me and you’ll be right as rain. Put on your helmet, so I don’t accidentally hit something vital!”

“Senior brother, I forgot to eat breakfast!”

“No worries, you’ll eat after practice, and your appetite will be all the better for it!”

“Senior brother, ah—spare me! You’re going to kill me—”

…

“Get back here, keep going. Ren the Fifth, if you dare run out of the rear garden today, don’t bother coming back through this door again!” Five minutes later, Zhang Qian dragged the sweat-soaked Ren Cong back into the training ground like a dead dog.

He had to vent his anger, or it would never dissipate. Last evening, Zhang Qian had overheard Wang Liuli’s muttered words perfectly clearly.

Liked children! And only those flat as a board! Did they really take him for a degenerate? He wasn’t a child—if he wanted a woman, it would be someone mature, full of charm, and every gesture speaking of experience…

Bah! Bah! His thoughts had been led astray by Ren Cong—he needed another round. After all, this kid had trained in martial arts; though slow to react and too flashy with his moves, he could take a beating well enough—not likely to be flattened after another round or two!

“Senior brother, stop, I know I was wrong, I truly do! I see how much you dote on Zijuan…” Two minutes later, Ren Cong lay on the ground, clutching his face and rolling back and forth.

“Up, up! I’m not beating you, this is our school’s secret skill—free sparring. Whether our Mohist branch can regain its former glory depends on you. Come, now I’ll teach you how to build up resilience!” Zhang Qian hauled Ren Cong up and propped him against a pillar, raising his voice in encouragement. “With your sharp mind, you’ll master this in no time!”

If only Ren Cong hadn’t mentioned Zijuan, Zhang Qian might have cooled off, but each mention stoked his anger anew. Only now did he realize why Steward Cui had agreed so readily when Wang Tianshi offered her daughter to pay a debt.

It all traced back to this! Ren Cong had been spreading word that his master preferred flat-chested girls! Steward Cui, new to his post, naturally wanted to show loyalty—and just then, Wang Tianshi couldn’t bear to part with their family’s cow…

He had to beat some sense into Ren Cong, or the lesson would never stick.

Poor Zhang Qian—still a virgin—was now saddled with such a reputation. Even Wang Yuanbao, who sold glassware far away in Chang’an, knew the manor lord’s supposed preferences—how could the neighbors not have heard?

No wonder, during his recent morning runs, he’d only met boys and old folks—never a single little girl. Damn, with a notorious “copper smelter” nearby, who would let their daughters play outside? If this local tyrant took a liking and sent servants to snatch them, the parents would have no recourse!

“Senior brother, have some water, drink before you continue teaching him!” Guo Nu, watching with scalp tingling, rushed over with a porcelain cup, seizing the chance to give Ren Cong a breather.

He wasn’t worried Ren Cong would be beaten to death—having trained since childhood, he could tell Zhang Qian was holding back. Still, being hit by him must hurt; even with thick cowhide and silk padding, just one hit made Ren Cong’s face twitch and his legs buckle.

“Thank you!” Zhang Qian, winded from lack of recent sparring, took off his gloves and gratefully accepted the cup with a smile.

“Senior brother, this morning in the study, I saw your essay. Reading it was exhilarating!” Stealing a glance at Zhang Qian’s expression, Guo Nu went on, lavishing praise.

“I wrote it specifically for Senior Bi Gou to critique. After sending Wang Liuli off last night, I stayed up writing. Only barely finished this draft by dawn,” Zhang Qian replied, shaking his head with a wry smile. “But it still doesn’t feel right. The meaning is clear, but it’s not polished enough.”

“It’s just that you’re new to the Tang style. In my view, if you add a ‘ye’ at the end of the first sentence, refine the second, and change ‘zhi ren’ to ‘zhe,’ the opening would flow much better. Senior brother, if you’re busy, let me have a try. You have enough to do without fussing over wording!”

“Oh? That would be wonderful. All right, I’ll leave it to you!” Zhang Qian, troubled by the essay, set down his cup and clasped his hands in gratitude.

Yet out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ren Cong trying to sneak away, wincing with every step. His temper flared anew.

This, truly, was the difference between a good and a bad student.

The good student would prepare the thesis for his “boss” before being asked, not even caring for authorship. The bad student, not only failed to contribute but didn’t bother to consider what the “boss” wanted, and even tarnished his reputation!

“Senior brother, it really wasn’t me! I never asked Wang Liuli to buy you a pretty girl!” Even with his back to Zhang Qian, Ren Cong felt the threat and immediately crouched down, hugging his head. “Wang Liuli came because she liked our Six Spirits Floral Essence—she bought two shares and thought it too few, so she came to ask if you’d expand again. Senior brother, please stop beating me. If I’m addled, there’ll be no one to help you bring in new shareholders!”

“I’m not hitting you, I’m helping your blood flow, so you don’t bruise later!” Having caught up, Zhang Qian grabbed Ren Cong’s arm and firmly massaged his neck, shoulders, and upper arms.

Even if he’d sullied his senior’s reputation, Ren Cong had done better than Guo Nu in recruiting investors. The latter, out of convenience, had handed all ten thousand strings of shares to his well-connected father. Ren Cong, however, had resisted pressure from Young Duke Duan Huaijian to keep everything in-house, and instead sold three thousand strings’ worth to Wang Yuanbao, the noted glass merchant, and Zou Bo, a major grain trader.

Thus, the second round of share expansion for Six Spirits Trading was almost complete. Fewer investors than Zhang Qian had hoped, but if you could dominate the glass trade in the empire or run a grain chain in Chang’an, you were no ordinary gentry. At the very least, the real stakeholders behind them would not be rootless nobodies.

“Master, easy, easy, it hurts!” Ren Cong, always the rascal, started whining as soon as Zhang Qian let up, “My bones are crushed for sure. No wonder you want that Wang Dazhu’s brother to teach you horsemanship after he recovers. With your strength, you’re wasting your talent not swinging a sledgehammer! Ow—”

“Quiet! Or we’ll have another session this afternoon!” Zhang Qian, his thoughts interrupted, smacked Ren Cong lightly and threatened him.

Ren Cong immediately shut up, not daring to provoke another round. Guo Nu, though, hesitated and quietly reminded him, “Senior brother, you said after this share expansion we’d buy official posts. From what I heard from Wang Yuanbao last night, not only does he want to invest in the third round, he also suggests we bring in more people then, to avoid attracting unwanted attention if the business gets too big…”

“Buy the posts first, and have a new alchemical cauldron made!” At these words, Zhang Qian’s playfulness vanished and he nodded solemnly. “In the next few days, the three of us will divide the work. Xiao Wu, you keep an eye on the workshop—get the Six Spirits Floral Essence bottled as soon as possible, and finish packaging the medicated oil and balm. Guo, you ask your father to help us buy official titles and commission a new cauldron. I’ll go to Uncle Zhang’s and have all his chrysanthemums harvested for essential oil extraction.”

“Yes, senior brother!” Hearing his serious tone, both Ren Cong and Guo Nu straightened and nodded.

“And, the balm packaging has to be upgraded, split in two grades!” Flashes of the angry faces at the chrysanthemum banquet, when Tibet was mentioned, crossed Zhang Qian’s mind. He gritted his teeth and added in a low voice, “There’ll be two types of medicated balm packaging. For the local market, simple pine boxes are fine. For Tibet, they must be made of the finest camphorwood, with carved designs on the outside! Whatever it takes, make it clear—though they’re both called balm, the contents are worlds apart.”