Jiaxing, Governor-General’s Mansion, Kitchen
The head chef wielded a ladle, stirring the egg drop soup in the pot with one scoop after another, his eyes anxiously fixed on the door, like a statue waiting for a loved one’s return. Finally, in the midst of his hopeful gaze, a maid hurried in carrying a food box. The head chef rushed forward, agitated and uneasy, asking urgently, “Well? Well? Did the master eat?”
The maid shook her head. “The master said he had no appetite and told me to bring it back. He said we could share it.”
“Ah…”
This outcome was within the head chef’s expectations, but hearing it confirmed still pained him deeply.
“The master didn’t eat last night either. I heard he stayed in the study all night without sleeping. He didn’t eat this morning, and now he’s not eating at noon. A whole day without food or sleep—how can his body cope?” The head chef set down the ladle, sighing repeatedly, his breaths heavy with worry.
“Master Chef, should we try something different? I can take it to the master again,” the maid suggested tentatively.
“You little lass, what do you know? The master always emphasises frugality. We’ve already made one meal. If we cook another just to send to him, that’s wasteful. Whether he eats it or not, we’d be in trouble for it.”
“Besides, since last night, I’ve been making all the master’s favourite dishes, changing things up. Take today’s fermented shrimp dish—usually, he’d eat at least half a bowl more rice with it. Today, he didn’t even touch his chopsticks…”
The head chef shook his head heavily.
“Then what do we do, Master Chef? The master hasn’t eaten for three meals. If he keeps this up, how will his body hold out? He’s not young anymore. If the mistress holds us accountable, how will we explain ourselves?” The maid paced anxiously in the kitchen.
“How can this be our fault? What’s it got to do with us? If anyone’s to blame, it’s those pirates, that Tu fellow, and that Li fellow! The whole mansion’s talking about it. The master gave strict orders: no local officials were to deploy troops without his command. But that Tu defied the master’s orders, sending that Li to fight the pirates without approval. And Li, utterly useless, lost all three thousand Shandong spearmen the master assigned him.”
The head chef hurriedly defended himself, then vented his frustration at Tu Dashan, the Governor of Southern Zhili, and Li Fengshi.
“It’s just three thousand soldiers, isn’t it? Doesn’t the master command millions of troops?” The maid scratched her head, confused. With so many troops under the master’s command, did losing three thousand really warrant skipping meals for a day?
“Just three thousand soldiers? You silly girl, you’re all hair and no sense. What do you know? Do you know why the master deployed the Shandong spearmen?” The head chef waved his ladle at her, exasperated.
The maid shook her head. How would I know? I’m just a lowly servant who serves tea and delivers meals…
“The master deployed the Shandong spearmen and the Guangxi Wolf Soldiers because our local troops are useless. They’re no match for the pirates and get crushed the moment they clash. That’s why the master specifically brought in capable troops from outside, including these Shandong spearmen. They’re renowned for their fighting prowess!”
“But what happened? Three thousand elite Shandong spearmen were wiped out by the pirates in a single battle… It’s not just the loss of the three thousand men—it’s the blow to everyone’s confidence. If even the specially deployed elite troops are so useless, who can stand against the pirates? Morale has been trampled into the dirt by those pirates.”
“The master was in the midst of deploying troops, setting a grand trap to wipe out the pirates in one fell swoop, and then he gets hit with this disaster.”
“How could the master not be furious? If I were him, I’d do as they sing in the operas—drag that Tu, and at least that Li, out and have them beheaded!”
The head chef grew more agitated as he spoke, feeling indignant on Zhang Jing’s behalf. How dare these people disobey the master’s orders? Outrageous!
“Master Chef, that’s all well and good, but if the master starves himself and ruins his health, the kitchen won’t escape blame. What do we do now?” The maid, unable to grasp these grand matters, pressed with concern.
“First, brew a cup of ginseng tea and send it to the master to restore his strength. I’ll think of something else…” the head chef said, scratching his head.
“Alright, I’ll go to the storeroom to get some ginseng slices.” The maid scurried off.
“Sigh, it’s all the fault of those pirates, that Tu, and that Li. They’ve upset the master so much…” The head chef muttered, sounding like a broken record.
While the head chef racked his brain for ways to get Zhang Jing to eat, the street outside the Governor-General’s mansion grew lively.
In the bitter cold of late winter, with a piercing north wind, a man appeared on the street. Shirtless, with two bandages wrapped diagonally across his body, blood seeping through, he carried a bundle of thorny vines on his back. Wearing straw sandals that exposed his toes, he walked step by step toward the Governor-General’s mansion.
“Who’s that? Is he out of his mind? Shirtless in the dead of winter—is he showing off his muscles or what?”
“What’s going on? What’s he doing?”
“Don’t you get it? He’s bearing thorns to beg forgiveness. See the thorny vines on his back? What a tough guy—those are full of spines.”
Since ancient times, the Chinese love for spectacle has never changed. Crowds gathered on both sides of the street, some even following along, eager for drama. People pointed and whispered, gossiping among themselves.
“Who is he? What did he do wrong? Where’s he going to beg forgiveness?”
The onlookers were curious about this man bearing thorns and where he was headed to atone.
“Don’t know, but we’ll find out if we follow.”
They didn’t know the answer, but they knew how to get it—just follow and see.
So, the curious crowd surged forward, trailing the shirtless man.
They walked and walked.
As they got closer to the Governor-General’s mansion, especially after passing a certain point, the only notable buildings left on the street were the mansion and the Temple of Confucius.
“Could he be going to the Governor-General’s mansion to beg forgiveness?!” someone in the crowd speculated.
Surely he’s not going to the Temple of Confucius to atone?
“Not sure if he’s just passing through?” Others were uncertain.
As they speculated, the man bearing thorns headed straight for the mansion’s gate.
Before the gate, he dropped to one knee, clasped his fists, and shouted toward the mansion, “I, the guilty general Li Fengshi, have failed the Governor-General’s trust. Leading troops against the pirates, I fell into their ambush, losing men and officers, nearly annihilating the army. Knowing my grave sins, I come bearing thorns to beg forgiveness. I beseech the Governor-General to pass judgement!”
