Before, when the two of them had been wronged at a black workshop in Heyue Ward, Jiuquan had wanted to bring people back to settle the score — but Heyue Ward was too large, and the black workshops too numerous, and after a long search they had never found the right place.
Now, bearing the Bureau of Works’ Textile Division’s authorization seal, Chen Baoxiang set out with a group of martial clerks, brash and bold, and came marching back in.
“Operating a workshop without official authorization, producing counterfeit weaving machinery, and mistreating weavers.” The martial clerks’ registrar entered the premises and called out his declaration. “Bring the ringleader!”
The foreman came forward, with the practiced ease of long experience slipping silver into the registrar’s hand. “Officer, officer — let’s talk this through calmly. This operation’s been our family trade for more than a decade — there’s no need to—”
The registrar flung the silver to the ground and pointed a finger straight at the man’s nose. “The Bureau of Works’ chief official, Master Zhang, has issued an order: not a single unauthorized workshop is to remain. If you have something to say, go say it to him.”
Then he turned toward the weavers cowering and trembling in fright. “Whatever items of value are in this place — you may consider them your wages and take them when you leave. Report to the Textile Office tomorrow, and the government will arrange new work for you.”
Chen Baoxiang felt a tremor move through her.
Every government runner and officer she had ever encountered had swaggered and bullied in front of the common people. This was the first time she had ever seen an office carry out its work with such genuine consideration for innocent weavers.
It was like clouds parting after rain, with light falling into that dim and crowded workshop.
“Thank you, officer! Thank you, officer!” The weavers wept with relief, many of them beginning to gather up bolts of cloth and the valuables the foremen had hidden away.
Zhang Zhixu followed along with Chen Baoxiang, and they came face to face with the foreman.
The foreman stared at her in stunned recognition. “You — you…”
She raised an eyebrow with an easy smirk. “You still owe me three hundred copper coins in wages — but forget it. Keep them to buy medicine instead.”
The foreman was clearly not satisfied with this, and shoved Chen Baoxiang — opening his mouth to cry his grievances. Chen Baoxiang had no patience for it. She kicked him in the back of the knee, had him bound up, and hauled him away — the whole thing done cleanly and without hesitation, leaving the man not a single moment to cause a scene.
The martial clerks’ registrar watching from the side nodded in steady approval, and turned to ask her: “What’s your name?”
“Baoxiang — Chen Baoxiang.”
“Good.” The registrar said with appreciation. “You have real ability. Tomorrow I’m heading to the Pharmacy Division — there are many women in that office. You come along and help out.”
“Yes, sir.”
One after another, they followed through with inspections of more than a dozen black workshops. Chen Baoxiang grew more and more energized with each one, while Zhang Zhixu had already worn himself completely out. “Is it still not over?”
“Almost — once we escort the people up ahead back to the office we can hand off and be done.”
“We still have to escort them……” He was feeling somewhat lightheaded.
Chen Baoxiang held herself upright, tying up the next person while offering him encouragement. “Just hold on a little longer.”
Zhang Zhixu very much wanted to hold on, but years of a cosseted and pampered life meant he simply could not endure this kind of ordeal. Halfway through, overwhelmed by pain and exhaustion, he drifted off to sleep.
When he woke, stars blanketed the sky. Chen Baoxiang was walking back on the road to Xun Yuan, humming a little tune.
He cleared his throat with a trace of embarrassment. “It’s all finished?”
“It is!” she said brightly. “Being a martial clerk is actually quite interesting — far more interesting than working the banquet circuit. I used to look at those grand government offices and feel too intimidated to go in. Thank goodness I had you, Great Immortal.”
“I didn’t do much of anything.”
“That’s not true.” She smiled. “Even though you didn’t act, just having you by my side made me feel like everything would go smoothly — you’re the one divine being who watches over me alone.”
Zhang Zhixu felt as though something had struck him in the chest. His eyes widened slightly, then he lowered his gaze with a quiet, soft laugh.
Being treated as a guardian spirit — it was absurd, and yet somehow it made him rather happy.
This was the first time he had been needed and admired not as “the second young master of the Zhang family” — but simply as himself.
Perhaps because Chen Baoxiang was truly exhausted — she came back to the Water Heart Study and fell asleep almost at once. Zhang Zhixu still felt uncomfortable in his own way. He mustered just enough strength to prop up her body, and carefully applied the ma fei grass to her forehead wound by the light of the moon.
Her elbows and knees were not in great shape either. Neither was the shoulder that had taken several blows.
Under ordinary circumstances, one ought never to unfasten a young woman’s clothing like this — but if she just slept through the night like this, she would likely be too sore to get out of bed come morning.
After a long deliberation, assembling such reasoning as: he had already seen everything there was to see anyway; a gentleman may be judged by his intentions rather than his actions; there was no lamp lit in the room; and at worst he would simply take responsibility for her — Zhang Zhixu untied the fastenings of her garment.
Better not to have looked. Having looked, his temper came rushing hotly upward.
A young woman who had been properly fed and cared for of late, looking fair and well — gone one day to the martial clerks’ office and come back covered in bruises all over. The wound on her shoulder that had been healing had been struck open again, red and swollen, and her knee had a purple bruise spreading across it — painful to move.
Dragging herself around with injuries this severe, she had still kept her patrol shift until midnight?
Whoever loved working as a martial clerk could go right ahead. He certainly wanted no part of it.
Grumbling to himself under his breath, he dug out the medicinal salve and applied it here, dabbed it there — and felt as if her injuries simply would not end, which made him angrier still.
Chen Baoxiang, however, slept soundly through the entire night, and woke the next morning in high spirits, dashing straight off to the seamstress shop. She bought a set of trim, close-sleeved garments in the color of celadon glaze, and turned left and right before the copper mirror. “Great Immortal — does this look sharp?”
She hadn’t pinned up her hair today. Her dark hair cascaded half down into a long tail at the back, with the other half wound loosely at the top of her head — neat and refreshing.
Zhang Zhixu had originally intended to persuade her to switch to a civil clerk position. But when he caught sight of the bright, luminous gleam in her eyes, the words reached his lips and he swallowed them back down.
“Sharp.” He sighed.
With the Great Immortal’s seal of approval, Chen Baoxiang let out a triumphant cheer, paid for her purchase, and ran off to the office.
“Baoxiang, you’re here?” Fan Tian, entirely changed from his earlier arrogance, waved her over the moment he saw her. “Your issued blade has come.”
Chen Baoxiang trotted over, picked it up, and examined it with a low sound of admiration. “Not bad at all.”
“Naturally — our Bureau of Works martial clerks’ office is far more generous than any other.” Fan Tian straightened up with proud satisfaction. “The top officials never cut corners on weapons.”
“I know — that’s Master Zhang, isn’t it.” She smiled cheerfully. “Truly a wonderful, wonderful official.”
Zhang Zhixu, who had just moments ago been resentful over the martial clerks’ office’s lack of proper standards, felt an unexpected warmth rise in his chest.
His reputation down here was actually not bad?
“You lot — on the cart quickly.” The registrar called out. “Something’s happened at the Pharmacy Division.”
Chen Baoxiang’s expression sharpened at once. She immediately fell in with the group of martial clerks and charged out, leaping up onto the boxed horse-cart, and they went thundering off toward the Pharmacy Division.
The Pharmacy Division oversaw the review of all medicines and the development of medical formulations for the entire Great Sheng dynasty. It was ordinarily a quiet and unhurried office, seldom troubled by anyone coming to cause a scene.
Yet today, at its very gate, some two hundred soldiers had massed in a dark and imposing crowd — a sight that made the stomach drop just to look at.
“This is my medicine.” From within the crowd came Sun Sihuai’s voice.
Chen Baoxiang started, and immediately began pushing through the crowd to get inside.
Sun Sihuai’s face was covered in blood, but he held on to Cheng’an with an iron grip. “My medicine — give it back to me!”
Cheng’an had a golden vial in his hand. He shook Sun Sihuai off with impatience. “We settled the payment for medicine last time. Our General has use for this medicine, so naturally it should go to our General.”
“Anything else — but not this vial.”
“Hmph. I’ve decided I want precisely this vial. Swords have no eyes — don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
With that, the soldier beside him raised his blade to strike.
Chen Baoxiang flashed forward and her brand-new issued blade rang out as it intercepted the blow. The soldier, caught off guard, stumbled back two steps.
She steadied Sun Sihuai with one hand and held her blade angled downward with the other. “Grounds of the Bureau of Works government office — who dares cause trouble here!”