Messenger of Calamity

Chapter 87: Evening Banquet

"Master, you're finally back! This old servant was worried to death!"

"Master, thanks to the ancestors’ blessing, it’s a relief you’re safe and sound!"

"Uncle, from now on when you go to the palace, please allow Yanzhang to accompany you with the guards! Even if you refuse to ride in a sedan, at the very least you mustn’t go alone anymore!"

"Uncle, what Yanzhang said is not unreasonable. I’ve trained my strength well, at the very least I can shield you from the thieves!"

"Master, the token isn’t omnipotent. Just like this time, the thieves still found you. If something had happened to you, how would I, your concubine, go on living?"

At the entrance of the Shang Residence, a large group of people began shouting and chattering noisily as soon as they saw Shang Xuanwen return. Yan Qing listened carefully and realized that Shang Xuanwen had always gone to and from the palace alone, refusing to ride in a sedan or be accompanied by guards. This had been his practice for years.

However, he was not treating his personal safety as a game. It seemed he possessed a token that could reduce his presence. When alone, he was actually safer. For many years, nothing had happened—this assassination attempt was an exception.

Thus, facing the enthusiastic concern and suggestions of his family, Shang Xuanwen rejected them all. He only trusted his own judgment. If they kept nagging, all they would receive was his cold glare and the throat-constricting fear that came with it—for not just anyone could withstand the gaze of a Third-Stage Messenger.

Yan Qing came to understand: this uncle was a Prime Minister outside and a State Minister at home. Everyone else was his subordinate, and only he could speak with final authority.

"Where’s Xinlei?" Shang Xuanwen looked around.

"The Fourth Young Lady is still in the courtyard."

"This child doesn’t even seem worried after hearing of her father’s assassination... truly..."

"Still, it was Brother Yue and Brother Qiao who were truly thoughtful. Brother Yue hadn’t even recovered from his injuries but led troops immediately upon hearing the news to save his father!"

"The Fourth Young Lady likely holds a grudge. After all, Master, you..."

The concubines spoke one after another, each word dripping with scheming. Not only Shang Xuanwen, even the bystanding Yan Qing felt that Shang Xinlei was going too far.

"Well done." Shang Xuanwen’s words silenced all the noise. "You should all learn from Xinlei. Do what needs to be done, and don’t crowd around senselessly. It’s meaningless and a waste of time."

Those stirring up trouble immediately fell silent. Everyone cautiously observed Shang Xuanwen’s expression, trying to guess whether he was sincere or sarcastic. Shang Xuanwen had no interest in the inner courtyard’s schemes. He turned to an elderly man wearing a hat and said, "Su Pei, have the Rat Monk change into a new set of clothes and be treated as a guard. Tend to his injuries and then bring him to see me in the study."

Chief Steward Su Pei nodded in agreement and led Yan Qing into the Shang Residence.

"Master Rat Monk, you must be a true high monk."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because the Master only ever shows special regard to those with a sincere heart," Chief Steward Su Pei said, counting on his fingers. "Mu Liancheng, Guo Yu, Hero Yang, Zhang Zhongzheng… over the years, the Master has only appointed these few people as guards or secretaries. Later, they were all posted elsewhere—some became generals at military garrisons, others important officials of the court, and some merely served as county magistrates or transport supervisors. But no matter their position, all of them were conscientious and good officials. The Master always placed them where they were most suited."

Yan Qing recalled a phrase and responded, "Heaven follows its own rules, and all should perform their duties."

"Haha, that’s one of the Master’s favorite sayings," Chief Steward Su Pei laughed. "So, Master, he surely believes there is a more suitable place for you, which is why he’s keeping you close for observation."

Yan Qing found it amusing. "Now that you’ve told me this, wouldn’t it help this poor monk target his flattery more effectively?"

"I trust the Master," Chief Steward Su Pei replied confidently. "His judgment has never been wrong!"

"This poor monk still believes that refusing sedan chairs and guards to wander about isn’t a good idea..."

"But it is precisely because the Master always goes deep among the common folk to understand their hardships that his policies can take care of the majority," Chief Steward Su Pei said. "The Master always says, ‘If Jiangnan City rots, then the entire world rots.’ All he can do is slow Jiangnan’s decay as much as possible. If all officials in the world rode sedan chairs, who would still see the common people outside?"

Chief Steward Su Pei’s words were not empty. Though Shang Xuanwen said he was making the Rat Monk a guard, he arranged for him a small courtyard residence. From the environment alone, it was far better than the dog kennel Yan Qing had back in the Thieves’ House. Chief Steward Su Pei even treated the Rat Monk’s injuries. Only then did Yan Qing realize the Rat Monk had been burned in the fight with the Fire Person. Compared to him, the player, it was Shang Xuanwen who noticed it first.

After changing clothes, the Rat Monk was brought to the study, where he found Shang Xuanwen already dressed for work and writing memorials at his desk, as if the earlier assassination had not affected him at all.

He said nothing, so Yan Qing had the Rat Monk stand to the side on standby, while he himself prepared dinner. Of course, he had no interest in lighting a stove in the room. By ‘cooking’, he simply tore roasted lamb leg and roasted chicken into strips, added some greens over steaming rice, and squeezed some apples into juice. That completed a dinner close to the standard of his previous life—at least the vitamins were enough.

It was worth mentioning that the most expensive part of the meal was actually the refined rice. The agricultural level of this world couldn’t produce polished rice—it could only separate husks and make brown rice. All refined white rice came from Secret Realms and was called ‘Immortal Rice’.

Not long after, Chief Steward Su Pei came to inform them it was time to head to Ronghua Hall for the banquet. Only then did Shang Xuanwen put down his brush and gesture for the Rat Monk to follow.

"For the next few days, you will follow behind me as my guard. If you earn my approval, I will vouch for you and exempt you from three years of military service," said Shang Xuanwen. "If you have any objections, now is the time to speak."

"This poor monk is simply curious—aren’t you afraid I harbor ill intent?"

Shang Xuanwen stopped and looked at the Rat Monk with eyes that showed more white than black.

"What makes you think, Big Monk, that the people by my side are free of ill intent?"

Yan Qing was taken aback. After a moment’s thought, he replied, "When you fell into the trap, so many were anxious to rescue you... your family cares so much about you..."

"Officials only want to make a show, hoping I will remember their faces. My family worries about my power, afraid that with my death, their privileged life will vanish. But among the officials who came to save me, not a few were wishing I’d die in there. Some were even accomplices of the assassins. They fear me, want to kick me aside as an obstacle, and redistribute court power. As for my family, there are certainly many now deeply disappointed. They resent my unfairness, hate my coldness, and no longer wish to live under my shadow."

Shang Xuanwen spoke with a calm voice, without the slightest emotional fluctuation, as if dissecting someone else’s life, exposing another’s ugliness. Yan Qing almost wanted to ask how someone could live so hated by gods and ghosts alike, but by then, they had arrived at Ronghua Hall. Inside, a round redwood table sat at the center, with a central scroll painting hanging on the north wall. Tonight, the main branch of the Shang Family would dine here.

The Rat Monk, upon entering, could only stand in the corner, watching the maids come and go. Fortunately, Chief Steward Su Pei stood beside him, offering introductions so Yan Qing could tell who was who among those seated.

Starting from the left, there was the main wife, Lady Gu, from the prestigious Gu Family of the Vermilion Gate; a concubine from the noble Quan Clan, Concubine Quan; another concubine from the noble Xu Clan, Concubine Xu. Next were Shang Xuanwen’s children: youngest daughter Shang Xinyao, fifth son Shang Tian, fourth daughter Shang Xinlei, third son Shang Qiao, and the still-unseated eldest son Shang Yue.

Just how many misdeeds must one commit to justifiably marry three wives? And yet they all got along harmoniously.

Yan Qing looked at the polite and composed Shang Xinlei on the screen, and naturally, he wasn’t surprised.

Back in the Thieves' House, when hearing the name Shang Xuanwen, Yan Qing hadn’t immediately connected him to Shang Xinlei. Moreover, when Shang Xinlei spoke of Shang Xuanwen, she described him like a stranger. Yan Qing had assumed they simply shared the same surname.

But after emerging from the cave and meeting Shang Xinlei’s older brother Shang Yue, Yan Qing realized their next theft target was Red Snake Shang Xinlei’s father. He didn’t know whether to feel glad or troubled. If Shang Xinlei was willing to cooperate from the inside, the mission might proceed smoothly and silently. But if she refused—or worse, deliberately leaked intel—they could find themselves dropping straight into an army's midst.

While the Rat Monk was observing the Shang family, the Shang family was also observing him. The youngest daughter Shang Xinyao, only three or four years old, was fascinated by the Rat Monk’s bald head, craning her neck to look closer. Shang Qiao stole a few glances but quickly looked away. Shang Xinlei looked a few times, then slowly withdrew her gaze, head lowered in thought.

Just then, Shang Yue entered from outside, travel-worn and sweaty as if he had run the whole way. "Father, I’ve returned after offering incense."

"Let me see your hands," said Shang Xuanwen.

At this screen resolution, Yan Qing naturally couldn’t see any marks on Shang Yue’s hand, but he did see Shang Xuanwen nod. "Wash up and take your seat."

"Begin the meal."

With Shang Xuanwen’s declaration, it was as if an invisible button had been pressed—the atmosphere in Ronghua Hall seemed to freeze.

Whether it was the adults like Shang Xuanwen and Lady Gu, or the children like Shang Xinyao and Shang Tian, everyone ate quietly. There was no passing of dishes, no idle chatter, no commentary. Though it was a grand banquet with nine people, Yan Qing felt like everyone was eating alone. In such a spacious place with so many people, the only sounds were the clatter of chopsticks and plates and the chewing of food.

Most frightening of all was Shang Xuanwen himself. When he ate, he didn’t look at the food—he stared straight ahead into an unfocused void.

Silence.

Oppression.

Suffocation.

Now Yan Qing truly believed that his family was deeply disappointed that he had survived. But he found it strange that Shang Xuanwen was not so silent when speaking with the Rat Monk. Why was he so... cold, toward his family?

When Shang Xuanwen finished eating, his family also happened to finish at the same time, including the youngest son and daughter.

"Return."

"Yes." Everyone stood, hurrying out one after another. The youngest daughter even jumped as soon as she exited Ronghua Hall.

On the way back to the study, Yan Qing couldn’t help asking, "Is such a meal even enjoyable?"

Shang Xuanwen paused and glanced at him.

"What I most looked forward to today was a quiet meal with my family." He paused. "You may go back now. Someone will call for you in the morning."

Yan Qing thought he was about to be put on standby all night again. Now that he was free, naturally he would explore the Shang Residence. But first, he wanted to try the kitchen’s offerings—he had craved the desserts from Shang Xinlei’s home for a long time. Taking some as a late-night snack would be delightful.

Arriving at the kitchen, Yan Qing unexpectedly saw An Cuihua being scolded by Chef Li. Apparently, her vegetable-cutting skills were lacking. Chef Li cursed as she demonstrated the proper technique. Yan Qing peeked for a while outside without disturbing them, then picked up a roast chicken and left.

Just then, Yan Qing heard a maid rush to the kitchen door urging:

"Quick, quick, quick! The Fourth Young Lady is already urging—hurry and deliver it!"

Two servants emerged from the kitchen carrying four food boxes. Yan Qing thought to himself, Shang Xinlei has quite the appetite—still eating so much after dinner?

The maid opened a box for inspection and nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Deliver it to Shuiyue Pavilion."

The servant complained, "Aiya, Sister Hualian, the Master said Shuiyue Pavilion is for holding criminals. How would we dare go in?"

"What criminal? That’s the Fourth Young Lady’s friend. Just go. She’s hosting a guest—do you think the Master will get mad at you? Or are you saying even a small task like delivering food from the Fourth Young Lady deserves your attitude?"

Since the maid put it that way, the servants had no choice but to deliver the food, faces full of bitterness. None of them noticed the bald figure quietly trailing behind.

"Shang Xinlei’s friend?" Yan Qing raised an eyebrow. "A criminal locked in Shuiyue Pavilion?"