novelAbuy Chapter 91 Deployment
Chapter 91 Deployment
Chapter 91 Deployment
Wang Zhi placed the two letters side by side on the stone table, leaned back, and looked up at the jujube tree leaves overhead for a long time.
Ah Huang moved over from under the jujube tree at some point, resting its furry chin on his knee, its wet nose gently nudging his palm.
Grey sat on the stone table, its tail tip rhythmically tapping the surface, tap tap tap.
He rubbed Ah Huang's head. This good-for-nothing is useless in other aspects, but when it comes to boasting, flattery, and emotional value, he's quite good at it.
He picked up the bowl of cold tea and took another big gulp.
My uncle's letter was, as always, gentle and cautious. He said a lot, but the only thing that truly came to fruition was that one reminder.
My second uncle's letter was straightforward—first a lecture, using his father's death to reprimand him, then abruptly changing the subject, demanding that he hand over the brewing recipe.
In exchange, the Wang family can grant him a chance to rejoin the family.
Moreover, my second uncle claimed that the recipe was "something you figured out yourself," without mentioning at all whether the technique came from somewhere else.
What does this mean? It means they still don't know the true situation inside the village.
How is wine produced? What equipment is needed? This means that the Wang family only knew some outside information.
We haven't obtained the real information yet, meaning there's no traitor within the village. There's no undercover agent yet.
My second uncle's letter was less about asking for a prescription and more about testing me.
To test what cards he holds, to see if he's willing to back down. To see if he still wants to find out the truth about his father's death.
"Returning to the family and bringing glory to the lineage is the right path. Do not lead yourself astray."
He read those two sentences over and over again, a sarcastic smile creeping onto his lips.
He took the initiative to sever ties back then in order to completely cut ties with the Wang family.
Now the Wang family is using "returning to the family" as bait to get him to hand over his livelihood and leave alone after he completely abandons his status as a member of the Wang family.
The tone of the letter was very confident. He was confident that he would cherish this opportunity, and that he still cared about his identity as a "member of the Wang family".
This is understandable, after all, in this era, the identity of a member of the Wang family represented something far beyond what ordinary people could imagine.
But what they didn't know was that the person in front of them was no longer the boy who knelt outside the ancestral hall begging the clan elders to thoroughly investigate the cause of his parents' deaths.
He carefully put the letter away, got up and went into the main room, where he spread out a sheet of paper on the table. He dipped the pen in ink, held it in mid-air, and wrote only two words.
"woke up."
Once the ink had dried, he folded the paper, tucked it into his pocket, changed his shoes, and went out.
The county town of Lantian is not far from the farm, about a half-hour walk. He walked towards the county town, his trouser legs soaked through the dew on the paddy field ridges.
Passing through the city gate, through the bustling streets, we turned into a quiet alley.
Deep in the alley, there is a small general store called Chen's Grocery Store. The storefront is small, and several strings of dried chili peppers and straw sandals hang under the eaves, swaying in the morning breeze.
He pushed the door open and went in.
Behind the counter, an old man in his fifties was looking down at his abacus. Hearing the door open, he looked up and saw Wang Zhihuan. The beads on his abacus paused for a moment.
He immediately stood up, a smile spreading across his wrinkled face: "Oh, Master Wang, what a rare guest! Shall we buy salt or tea?"
"Give me a pound of tea leaves and two pounds of salt," Wang Zhihuan said.
Old Chen responded, took a tea canister from the shelf, and scooped two ladles of salt from a salt bag in the corner, placing them on the counter. He muttered, "You walked all this way in this sweltering heat by yourself? Aren't you afraid of getting heatstroke?"
"Don't worry." Wang Zhihuan took the salt bag, took out the written letter from his pocket, mixed it with a handful of copper coins, and handed it over. "Count the tea and salt money."
Old Chen took the copper coins and letter, weighed them in his palm, and gently pressed his fingers three times on the bottom of the paper package.
Then, without changing his expression, he put the letter into his sleeve, found some change, handed it back, and said with a smile, "Take care, next time if you need anything, just let me know and I'll deliver it to your village."
"No need to deliver it, I'll get it myself." Wang Zhihuan carried the salt bag and tea leaves, turned around and left the general store.
After turning out of the alley, Wang Zhi wasn't in a hurry to return to the farm. He wandered around the county town for a while, bought some medicinal herbs at a pharmacy, and ordered a few sickles from a blacksmith.
As I passed by, I bought two steaming hot sugar cakes from the stall and ate them as I walked, leaving sugar crumbs all the way.
By the time we returned to the farm, the sun was already high in the sky.
Ah Huang was lying under the jujube tree root. When he heard the sound of the courtyard gate, he immediately jumped up, circled around him three times, and smelled the sugar on him.
Grey jumped down from the windowsill and scurried to his feet, rubbing against his trouser leg.
Wang Zhi put the salt packet in the kitchen and the tea leaves on the cabinet. He sat down under the jujube tree, poured himself a bowl of cool tea, and slowly drank it.
The two letters were pressed under the teapot. When the wind blew, the edges of the letters trembled gently, like butterfly wings.
He finished the last sip of tea, put the bowl on the stone table, stood up, and stretched.
there is always a solution to a problem.
At the same time, the back door of Chen's Grocery Store opened quietly.
Old Chen stuffed a thin piece of paper into a bamboo tube and handed it to a teenager waiting in the alley.
The child took the bamboo tube, stuffed it into his clothes, and dashed through the alley, disappearing into a dilapidated shack in the south of the city.
At the entrance of the shack, a burly man with a scar on his face was squatting on the ground sharpening his wood-chopping knife. The sharpening sound echoed in the alley. He took the note, glanced at it, chewed it, and swallowed it. He then waved to the men chopping wood inside the shack.
"The young master has sent word. Brothers, it's time to get to work."
On the official road, Steward Liu rode a gray horse, accompanied by two attendants, heading south along the Fen River. The horse's hooves kicked up a trail of yellow dust.
Before he set off from Taiyuan, the Third Master called him into his study and gave him only a few instructions: When you arrive in Lantian, handle official business strictly.
If the magistrate arrives before you, you should rest in the county town first and enter the village after he leaves.
If you encounter him in the village, there is no need to say much or cause any conflict.
Steward Liu nodded in agreement. The Third Master stood by the window in silence for a long time, and said nothing more.
On another official road, a carriage with a blue canopy was moving slowly forward. The wheels rolled over the bluestone slabs, making a rumbling sound.
Wang Huan, sitting in the carriage, placed his now-cold teacup on the table. He lifted the curtain and gazed silently at the faintly visible Lantian County city wall at the end of the official road ahead.
In a sandalwood box in the corner of the carriage, the Duan inkstone, the book of the Book of Songs, and the old jade pendant lay quietly among the silk cloth.
On the night of the 19th day of the sixth month in the ninth year of the Zhenguan era, oil lamps were lit in that farmhouse in Lantian County.
Wang Zhihuan was sitting under the jujube tree explaining the pathways of meridians to Zhou Xia. Ah Huang was dozing off at his feet, while Huihui was squatting on the windowsill licking its tail.
Everything was as peaceful as ever.
Meanwhile, carriages and horse caravans were traveling along the official road under the moonlight.
Two letters, a wooden box, and a land deed are gradually approaching the farm.
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