37. Two Drunks

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Yang Fan felt as though he were lying in bed, with something damp and cool pressed against his face.

He slowly pieced together his last memory. Tushan Yue had his head clamped between her thighs, and no matter how desperately he struggled, he could not break free. Unable to breathe, he had been so terrified that his hands and feet went numb, certain that he was finished this time.

Then he had passed out from lack of air, and everything after that was a blank.

Damn it. Who knew how many brain cells had died this time? That little shrew didn’t know that oxygen deprivation caused irreversible damage to the brain?

He slowly opened his eyes and saw Xiangyi and Xiangying bustling about. Xiangyi was washing a silk cloth in a copper basin, while Xiangying was placing a wrung-out towel on his forehead.

Turning his head, he found Steward Zhao Fu, Zhang Gada, Ludan, Mozhuo, and the others standing at his bedside, their faces full of concern.

“The master is awake!”

“Thank heavens! The master has Heaven’s protection.”

“You nearly scared us to death!”

Everyone wore an expression of lingering fear.

Yang Fan sat up, removed the silk cloth, and tossed it aside. Then he angrily demanded, “Didn’t I say no one was to come in? How did Tushan Yue get inside? How are you people doing your jobs?”

“Oh, mother of mercy!”

Zhang Gada and the others went weak at the knees and dropped to the floor one after another. Xiangyi and Xiangying saw that it would hardly do for them to remain standing, so they knelt as well.

“Master, you don’t know what she’s like! That woman is no good at all! Just look at what she did to me!” Ludan cried, loudly proclaiming his innocence.

He displayed his head as he spoke. Yang Fan had already noticed upon waking that the three men had been beaten into swollen, pig-like faces. He had nearly failed to recognize them.

Their heads were wrapped in white cloth, making them look like pharaohs’ mummies. The three “pharaohs” exchanged glances before pouring out their grievances to Yang Fan.

“Master, she started beating us the moment she came in! I merely tried to stop her, and she split my head open!”

“Useless fools! What happened to all your skill? You’re only good for bullying street thugs. Are those cudgels in your hands merely firewood?”

“Master, we men aren’t cowards,” Zhang Gada wailed. “But before we even had time to draw our weapons, that woman produced an official badge. Good heavens—she’s an undercover agent of the Embroidered Uniform Guard!”

“Even if I had grown ten more pairs of courage, I wouldn’t dare bring trouble down on you, Master!”

After saying this, Zhang Gada stole a shifty glance at Yang Fan’s expression, his face full of grievance. He looked as though he had not only failed in his duty but had actually preserved the situation for his master.

“All right, all right. Keep a closer watch on the door from now on. Now get out of here!”

Yang Fan waved them away impatiently.

The men reacted as though they had received a pardon and scrambled out in abject haste, rolling and crawling over one another for fear of being too slow.

Steward Zhao hurried forward and bowed. “Master, everything is ready at the mine-waste site. When would you like us to begin work?”

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Yang Fan gathered his thoughts before saying, “We don’t have enough manpower. This household is full of elderly people and children. We can barely maintain production as it is. If we send people out to sort the ore, won’t several of them drop dead from exhaustion?”

“Master, more than ten thousand refugees have gathered outside the city. We could recruit some of them, but we would have to feed them, and our own grain stores are not plentiful. Food is expensive these days as well.”

“Don’t worry about the grain. Take some men and recruit refugees at once. Choose the strong and able-bodied. Feed them until they’re full, and for every hundred pounds of iron sand they sort, give them another pound of dried bread.”

“Master, that’s far too generous. Feeding them should be enough.”

“Enough. Don’t argue. Do as I say. Many of these refugees have families. A little grain will put their minds at ease and let them work without worry. Besides, without a reward, whether they work much or little makes no difference. Where would their motivation come from? They’ll only go through the motions. Go. Find three hundred people to start with.”

After Zhao Fu left, the two sisters hurried to their feet and helped Yang Fan change into the local clothing. They had undressed him the night before and put him into the undergarments worn for sleep.

He truly needed their assistance with the outer garments for a while. Clothes from this era were far too complicated, and Yang Fan had no idea how to put them on.

“Where are Tushan and the other young woman I brought back?” Yang Fan asked.

“Master, we heard fighting in the room last night, so the two of us were too frightened to come in. Later, Miss Tushan came out and called us inside.”

Xiangyi patted her chest. “You nearly frightened us to death, Master. You were lying unconscious on the floor, your face and neck bright red.”

“Miss Tushan and the other young lady said they had examined you and that you were all right—you had merely fainted. They told us to remove your clothes and put you into bed.”

Yang Fan relaxed. It seemed the two madwomen had eventually stopped fighting.

“What happened afterward? Where did they go?”

Xiangying replied, “Afterward, the two of them blamed each other for knocking you unconscious. Then Miss Tushan said she was hungry, so she ordered me to prepare a meal. Steward Zhao privately told me that Miss Tushan was your friend and must not be offended. He even gave me an ounce of silver and sent me out to buy some wine and meat.”

“Hmph. Those two certainly know how to enjoy themselves. They knocked me unconscious and still had the appetite to drink?”

“Exactly. My sister stayed to care for you while I went to cook.”

“They didn’t give either of you too much trouble, did they?” Yang Fan had already realized that neither of those two young ladies was easy to serve.

“Master...” Xiangying pouted, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Miss Tushan took one sip of the wine I bought and spat it out. She cursed me and said it tasted like dishwater.”

Xiangyi also began to cry. “She threw the dishes I served onto the floor. They were all made with pork! No one in this household has eaten meat for years, and even you, Master, have hardly had any. That was the finest meal we could provide, yet she still cursed us.”

Yang Fan felt rather guilty seeing how upset the two poor girls were.

He hurried to comfort them.

“And what happened afterward? Where is Miss Yaoguang?”

“So the other young lady is called Miss Yaoguang. She took one look at the wine and dishes and did not touch them.”

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“Later, she went to the west side room. We don’t know where she found them, but she brought out several large cardboard boxes filled with food and drink, then told us to heat everything up.”

“She also took several bottles of liquor from the boxes.” Xiangyi spoke with astonishment. “The bottles were made of crystal, and the liquor inside was as clear as water. It looked terribly expensive. When she opened one, the fragrance was wonderful. I can’t drink, but just smelling it made me want some.”

Yang Fan groaned inwardly. My precious Maotai. I only brought one case—six bottles.

“The two of them began drinking,” Xiangying continued. “After each had finished a bottle, Miss Tushan began to cry. She said her father favored her younger brother, and that her second mother always made things difficult for her.”

“Later, Miss Yaoguang began crying as she drank as well. She said she could not find her home, that she had lost her memory, and things like that.”

Yang Fan rubbed his forehead helplessly. Two drunken lunatics. How could anyone drink such potent liquor that way? And after getting drunk, they had to throw tantrums as well.

“What happened afterward?”

“After they finished all the liquor, they began vomiting and got it all over themselves. Then they collapsed on the floor, drunk senseless,” Xiangyi said.

“I was afraid they would catch cold, so I removed their clothes, carried them to bed, and tucked them in. I took their clothes downstairs to wash them too. The two young ladies should still be asleep in the west room.”

Yang Fan rose, put on his shoes, crossed the central hall, and walked to the west room. When he pushed open the door, he saw the two women sleeping soundly beneath a thick quilt.

Their delicate shoulders showed above the edge of the bedding. Both had smooth, rounded shoulders and exquisite collarbones that reflected the morning sunlight with an ivory sheen.

They must have kicked off the covers in their sleep without realizing it. Their little faces were flushed, the last traces of drunken color still lingering on their cheeks.

Yaoguang lay on her side with the little shrew clasped in her arms. From the outline beneath the quilt, it was clear that one hand rested around Tushan Yue’s waist, while the other was placed over her breasts.

Yang Fan stood before the canopy bed and quietly gazed at the picture of two beauties asleep in spring. A faint, virginal fragrance drifted around his nose.

He stared for a moment, becoming somewhat entranced. Then he suddenly realized that watching them like this was improper and turned to leave.

Since they were both unharmed, he felt reassured.

A low heated-bed table sat on the floor, surrounded by several plates of leftovers and a jumble of cups and dishes. Six liquor bottles lay scattered haphazardly across the floor.

Those two lunatics had first fought as though their lives depended on it, leaving him aching all over, and then drunk themselves half to death. They had put away three pounds of strong liquor without fear of poisoning themselves.

Most absurd of all, they had ended up sleeping under the same quilt.

Yang Fan could not help feeling that Yaoguang embracing Tushan Yue was rather unsettling to look at. Could Yaoguang possibly have some unusual preferences?