Chapter Twenty-Nine: Leisure and Elegance

"Given all this, has no one else discovered anything?"

Wang Qun replied, "The Qin family is always extremely cautious. That’s the main reason I brought you along this time. The Qin family has very few connections outside; the Zhen family is one of the rare few. Everyone who can trade with the Qin family is thoroughly vetted by them. Even if they learn something, they keep it to themselves..."

"I see!"

From the Qin family's perspective, Zhen Qian could understand their reasoning. Hiding away in the remote mountains and avoiding contact with the outside world might seem wise, but it imposed many limitations. It might work for a day, a month, or even a year, but over decades or centuries, degeneration would set in. The Qin family's seclusion in White Horse Village was a clever disguise. In the Tang Dynasty, when communication was primitive, this was not a bad strategy.

The so-called "mountain folk" were regarded as savages by the local authorities. As long as they delivered some mountain goods, the county officials didn't bother with them. Wang Qun, taking advantage of this, purchased mountain products and furs from the Qin family, exchanging them for essential daily items. Both sides benefited, so naturally, no one exposed the arrangement.

Wang Qun’s plan to set up the distillery in the Qin household stemmed from the same logic. However, the Qin family feared exposure and wished Zhen Qian to negotiate in person, using this opportunity to gauge his reliability.

After Wang Qun's explanation, Zhen Qian understood his role. It was not unlike a marriage proposal: learning about each other's temperament before tying the knot, to avoid future conflict. Before collaborating, it was best to meet and communicate. Zhen Qian, who had hoped to remain behind the scenes, now had no choice but to show his face.

"Da Lang, when we reach the Qin family, you must be extra cautious. Having lived in the mountains for generations, they rarely interact with outsiders. Their disposition is unlike that of ordinary folk. At the slightest disagreement, they may resort to fists. Perhaps it’s a product of their mountain life. But you needn’t worry—the Qin family has someone specifically to receive us. Those who interact with us are more practiced in dealing with people. Just don’t speak with any hint of condescension, or you’ll provoke their ire!"

"I understand." There was no need for courtesy between Zhen Qian and Wang Qun—formality would only breed distance.

The caravan traveled for over an hour before coming to a halt. "We’ve arrived already?"

"Not yet," Wang Qun replied, leaping off the cart. The jostling had left Zhen Qian queasy, so he quickly got down to rest. "We’re about to enter the mountains. Ahead lies White Horse Pass. We’ll turn northwest here and walk another three or four miles along the mountain path before arriving."

"Three or four miles? That’s not far at all!" Zhen Qian said, unconcerned.

Seeing Zhen Qian's nonchalance, Wang Qun quickly added, "Don't underestimate these last few miles, Da Lang. You'll see soon enough—this is the most difficult stretch of our journey. The path is rarely traveled, dangerously narrow, flanked by cliffs and precipices. A single misstep could send you tumbling into the abyss. That's why we must go on foot to White Horse Village."

Zhen Qian nodded. He’d seen treacherous paths during his travels before, and the Tang era had no highways; most roads were worn into the earth by countless feet. He was well aware of this reality.

The road connecting Zhen Ding and White Horse Pass was still relatively broad; it crossed the Taihang Mountains and led to Hedong Circuit (modern-day Shanxi). Only the most hurried traders braved this route. According to Wang Qun, the mountain road linking Hedong and Hebei was now shunned—dangerous, neglected, with sections collapsed and frequent robberies. Most travelers now took the Jingxing route instead.

In the end, Zhen Qian realized he’d underestimated Wang Qun’s warning. The caravan quickly hit the road, threading between two great mountains. Everyone disembarked to walk— even the drivers led the horses on foot.

The path narrowed steadily. Eventually, it was only wide enough for a single cart. On one side loomed a sheer cliff, on the other, a bottomless chasm shrouded in mist that drifted up from the depths, glowing eerily in the sunlight. Trees and vines surrounded them, cloaking the world in green. The only sound was the creak of cart wheels echoing through the ravine.

Xiao Zhu and Xiao Mei hugged the cliffside, too afraid to look into the abyss. Occasionally, the sound of water and rocks colliding rose from below—this, Wang Qun had said, was the Tuo River.

"Watch your step!" Wang Qun called out. "Beware falling rocks above, and stay away from the edge..."

"Master, I’m scared!" Xiao Zhu whimpered, clinging to Xiao Mei’s hand, fear in her eyes.

"What’s there to fear?" Ju Niang, ever curious, strode boldly to the edge and peered down into the valley. Iron Pillar, with his simple grin, grasped her hand, terrified she might slip and fall. "What a beautiful view! You should all come and see!"

"Beautiful, my foot!"

Zhen Qian glared at Ju Niang, who retorted mockingly, "Are you even a man? Such a coward!"

"A gentleman knows when to act and when not to. I’m not about to risk my life for bravado—that would be foolish."

Zhen Qian had no interest in arguing with this wild woman. Instead, he comforted Xiao Zhu and Xiao Mei, "Don’t be afraid. Just don’t look down or think about it. With so many of us here to protect you, what is there to fear?"

"Master, I’m really frightened!"

"Hold my hand, and you won’t be scared. Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was a mountain, and in the mountain, a temple. In the temple lived an old monk and a young monk. The young monk asked, ‘If there are men in the world, why do we need women? Women are troublesome and complicate everything. People complain about women all the time. If there were only men, wouldn’t life be simpler?’"

Ju Niang, drawn in, raised her brows and argued, "If there could only be one kind of person, it should be women! Men just fight and kill all day. Without women, who would bear children for you?"

"That’s a fair point," Zhen Qian conceded this time.

Ju Niang was taken aback by his agreement and didn’t know how to respond. Xiao Zhu and Xiao Mei quickly asked, "Master, what did the old monk say?"

Zhen Qian spread his hands. "I don’t know. The old monk said nothing, just looked at the young monk quietly and sighed... and sent him back to secular life."

"That’s cheating!" Xiao Zhu protested, realizing Zhen Qian was teasing her. "Then, how would you answer, Master?"

"If you never enter the world, you’ll never know the meaning of entering or leaving it. Everyone has their own answer—why ask others?" Zhen Qian replied with deliberate profundity.

Ju Niang couldn’t stand his posturing. She snorted, "Stop pretending! I know you don’t really think that way."

"And how would you know what I’m thinking—are you me?"

"You..." Ju Niang was at a loss for words. "Let’s settle this with our fists. No one here will help you this time!"

"Very well!" Zhen Qian agreed readily. "But let’s not fight with fists. Why don’t we compete with words instead?"

Ju Niang didn’t understand. "What do you mean, fight with fists or words?"

"Fighting with fists is obvious—using force. But that can damage our friendship. Your mother asked me to teach you Tai Chi. Like it or not, I’m half your teacher. How could a teacher bully a student?"

Before he’d finished, Ju Niang was already waving her fists in front of him. "Say one more word and I’ll hit you!"

"You were just complaining that men are always fighting, and now look who's eager for a fight," Zhen Qian teased. "I won’t stoop to your level. A contest of words means we each pose a problem—if the other can solve it, they win; if not, they lose."

"Then I’m doomed," Ju Niang admitted. She was confident with her fists, but not with words. She refused outright.

"You shouldn’t give up so quickly. In battle, victory doesn’t go to the strongest or the most numerous, but to the one who makes best use of their opportunities. Only brutes rely on violence. Isn’t that so?"

Ju Niang would never admit it. She snorted and looked at Iron Pillar, who just kept grinning. Annoyed, she kicked him. "Da Lang is bullying me—aren’t you going to help?"

Iron Pillar scratched his head and shook it vigorously. "Da Lang is the young master. He’s always right!"

"So you mean I’m wrong?" Ju Niang pressed.

Iron Pillar grinned sheepishly. "You’re right too, my wife!"

"Useless thing! All you do is help outsiders bully me..." Ju Niang stamped her foot and ran ahead to complain to Wang Qun.

With Ju Niang gone, the mountain path suddenly seemed quieter. Zhen Qian and the two girls fell into easy conversation, almost forgetting the perils of the journey. However, after walking for some time, his feet began to ache—a consequence of his lack of exercise. The two girls fared even worse, needing frequent rests. Soon, the three of them lagged at the very end of the procession.

"Shall I carry you both?"

"No, Master! You’re only just recovered. How could we let you carry us?" Even as they protested, the two girls’ hearts filled with sweetness. What master would ever offer to carry his maids? If word got out, people would be astonished.