Chapter Fifty: Maple Leaf Manor

When Jiang Cheng arrived, his expression was somewhat grave. He had thoroughly investigated the estates entrusted to him by his younger uncle, and found several troublesome individuals among them—those who had come as part of his aunt’s dowry. As a member of the Jiang family, it was improper for him to meddle in matters concerning a woman’s dowry. Thus, although his younger uncle intended to test his abilities with these estates, Jiang Cheng merely pointed out the problems without resolving them himself.

Jiang Lan studied the names listed, his brows knit tightly together. Each was an old servant grown arrogant, abusing their power. Punishing them seemed heartless and might wound the old retainers’ feelings; yet if left unchecked, they would continue to wield the banner of the Duke’s residence for their own gain, and if someone with ill intent seized upon the blood-debts they accumulated, the foundation would crumble. Sooner or later, chaos was inevitable.

“This Xue Dafu of Maple Leaf Manor is one of the lady’s dowry servants, and now a ‘figure’ in the estate,” Jiang Wu glanced at Jiang Lan, seeing no displeasure but only a furrowed brow, and so he calculated accordingly.

“To call him a ‘figure’ is to say he relies on the favor of his former mistress and has some cunning. He has spent the past decade flattering his superiors while bullying those below, and hasn’t lacked for such tricks.”

“Over those years, he gathered many followers, ruling inside and outside the estate with an iron hand, lending usurious loans…”

Jiang Lan looked at the list of Xue Dafu’s deeds: in poor harvest years he distributed loans, interest compounding upon interest, forcing tenants to sell their sons and daughters, ruining families. Truly, a murderer with no blood on his hands.

“What do you plan to do?” he asked.

Jiang Wu bowed, “Though Xue Dafu is ruthless, he is still an old retainer from the lady’s dowry. It wouldn’t do to be too harsh.”

“His contract is still held by your younger uncle. Perhaps we should confiscate his property, give him a sound beating, and send him to the brokers for sale. As for the debts he issued…”

Jiang Wu looked at his young uncle. He had reviewed Xue Dafu’s accounts: many debts issued in the estate’s name, with half the proceeds pocketed by Xue, and the rest still outstanding. All this money came from the estate’s profits, the losses were borne by his uncle.

Seeing Jiang Wu hesitate, Jiang Lan regarded him with a look that seemed uncertain whether to speak or not.

“Forgive those debts. It’s not worth it for a bit of silver.”

Jiang Wu sighed; he too thought so. Yet if he were in his uncle’s position, he doubted he could do it. Even without the interest, it was nearly ten thousand taels, all lent from the estate’s income; it was, in truth, the estate’s silver.

If recovered, his journey to Jiangnan would be assured.

“But, let’s not deal with Xue Dafu just yet. I’ll go see for myself.”

He gazed out the window. The rain had just stopped; it was the time of Awakening of Insects and Spring Equinox, perfect for a visit to the estate.

“Have them prepare two fast horses.”

“Yes, young uncle.”

Maple Leaf Manor was said to be outside Jiankang, and on horseback it took little time to reach. By noon, smoke rose from many households.

Jiang Lan and Jiang Wu dismounted and walked along the path. Before leaving, Jiang Lan had deliberately changed into a half-new narrow-sleeved Hu garment, carrying only a scented pouch at his waist. Dressed in brocade, Jiang Cheng drew attention; beside him, Jiang Lan looked almost like his attendant.

In early spring, the fields were full of farmers rushing to plow, and occasionally a child of six or seven ran along the ridges, carrying a clay pot.

The ridges were uneven, and the water inside the pot splashed merrily.

Jiang Cheng followed half a step behind Jiang Lan, as was proper and respectful.

“All these thousand acres belong to the estate?”

Jiang Cheng nodded. “They are all dowry lands, merged into the manor. With the weather so favorable this year and a spring rain just fallen, it should be a year of abundance.”

“How were things in previous years?”

“In the past few years…” Jiang Cheng shook his head. “There was drought after drought, poor yields, and less than ten percent of the tenants could pay their rent.”

“What would an ordinary household do?”

“They would reduce the rent to support the tenants.”

Jiang Lan, seeing Jiang Cheng answer without hesitation, turned to ask, “And what did that fool do?”

“He reported the disaster; the heir reduced rent accordingly. Yet he deceived his superiors and continued to collect as usual, especially last year when calamity struck. Over half the tenants had to borrow from that scoundrel Xue Dafu.”

Jiang Lan took a deep breath, sighing inwardly: ordinary men are clever indeed, with schemes more subtle than a winding cage.

“Let’s visit a household and ask about their situation.”

Jiang Cheng nodded, leading the way. Jiang Lan followed. All the tenants were locals, their houses built along the mountain, each separated by a few steps, bustling with activity.

It seemed, before Xue Dafu’s misdeeds, the place flourished thanks to Maple Leaf Manor.

Wealth always clouds judgment.

Jiang Cheng led Jiang Lan into one house.

The master was surnamed Liu, called Brother Liu by neighbors.

Brother Liu was in the fields with his three sons, leaving his wife, Madam Wang, to cook alone inside.

Jiang Cheng seemed familiar here; Madam Wang greeted him warmly. When the two asked for water, she promptly brought out two grayish-white porcelain bowls and ladled water for them.

“There’s no tea in the house, but our well water is sweet. Sirs, please do not despise it.”

The woman’s face was sallow and lined, appearing fifty or so, but Jiang Lan, judging by her bones, saw she was under thirty-five. Time, indeed, wears people down.

But, “Benefactor?”

Noticing his young uncle’s inquisitive gaze, Jiang Wu looked embarrassed, handing another bowl of sweet water to Jiang Lan.

“You asked me to tidy up the estate, so I found much mischief in the accounts and brought my son here to look around. We happened upon Xue Dafu’s men coming to collect debts. This household is terribly poor; Brother Liu has three sons, all sturdy young men, yet none can find a wife. Xue Dafu’s men took a fancy to the youngest, wanting to seize him for payment. I’m not a great philanthropist, but I can’t stand such fraud, so I helped them out.”

The cool well water revived Jiang Lan, who raised an eyebrow at Jiang Cheng. “How much did it cost?”

Jiang Cheng smiled, a little shy. “Just about ten taels of silver. Forgive me for the trouble.”

Jiang Lan stood. “True, you’re genuinely wealthy. I was going to say you shouldn’t lose money doing this job, but now…”

Jiang Cheng quickly set down his bowl and grabbed Jiang Lan’s sleeve. “Young uncle, I can do without money!”

Jiang Lan laughed. “No, you have money.”

Madam Wang didn’t understand what the benefactor and the young man discussed; she simply refilled the well water and returned to her cooking.

The sun, emerging after rain, was sharp. Jiang Lan, being lazy, moved his stool to the shade and took a nap.

He’d been up late the night before, worried about Chifeng’s injuries, and only slept briefly at dawn. Now, sleepiness overtook him.

Jiang Cheng dared not disturb him, awkwardly explaining to Madam Wang.

She was warm and hospitable, wanting to tidy a room for Jiang Lan to rest. Jiang Cheng thanked her, knowing his young uncle was easy-going, but letting him sleep in a tenant’s house was too bold, even for him. After all, his young uncle was the heir apparent, soon to inherit the title.

No matter how casual, he was still a distinguished man.

Jiang Cheng waited nearby, fanning with a borrowed palm fan to drive away mosquitoes. The manor was tranquil, but the insects fierce. Whether he was effective or not, he always felt the mosquitoes swarmed him and never dared bother his young uncle.

Strange!

The midday sun was warm and comforting. Jiang Lan was awakened by a commotion, frowning as he opened his eyes toward the courtyard gate, where Madam Wang was brandishing a kitchen knife, charging outside.

Jiang Lan’s lips curled; one trip outside and he saw everything.

Dusting himself off, Jiang Lan woke his cousin, who was snoring loudly, fanning himself.

He had four or five swollen bites on his face, clearly from venomous mosquitoes. Jiang Lan touched his own cheeks, relieved to find them smooth.

“Young uncle, is something the matter?”

Jiang Cheng yawned, looking as if he’d just returned from the dead.

“Listen.”

Jiang Cheng perked up. “Sounds like an argument.”

“Let’s go see.”

Jiang Cheng quickly got up and followed Jiang Lan to the neighboring house.

Inside, a crowd blocked the entrance, layers upon layers, with shouts and curses echoing.

Jiang Lan couldn’t make out what had happened, so he told Jiang Cheng, “Dear nephew, go find out.”

At first, he found the seniority awkward, but now Jiang Lan was comfortable with it.

Jiang Cheng, skilled and sociable, quickly gathered information.

“…Xue Dafu’s men are here again, targeting the neighbor’s daughter to seize her for debt repayment. Poor girl, not yet fourteen, who knows what torment awaits…”

“Torment?” Jiang Lan’s brows rose, sensing deeper trouble.

Jiang Cheng hesitated. How could he speak such filth to his upright young uncle?

But a farmer returning from lunch was not so reserved.

“Sir, you may not know, but Steward Xue loves young girls not yet of age. Every so often, someone is sent to him, and it’s said…”

The farmer leaned in, “It’s said corpses of girls are sent from his back courtyard, their bodies covered in whip marks, and their lower bodies…”

Jiang Cheng could not bear to listen, scolding and pushing the farmer aside.

Jiang Lan’s face darkened. He asked the farmer, “Do you have proof?”

The farmer, already annoyed at being pushed aside, replied proudly, “My uncle guards Steward Xue’s back courtyard. He saw it with his own eyes.”

Jiang Lan was furious; he had always despised those who abused women.

Jiang Cheng saw his uncle pick up a wooden stick from the roadside, and was alarmed. “Oh dear, young uncle, don’t be rash! There are many inside. I’m old, can handle two or three, but a brawl…”

“Ah, young uncle! Why are you going in?”

“Heavens!”