Chapter 11: Business Flourishes

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The fast-food stall under Wu Tiande’s name, called “Truly Tasty,” was doing reasonably well. Aside from being located on Ningrong Street, which was naturally bustling with heavy foot traffic, Bao Er and his wife, Mrs. Lou, Jiao Ya, and others would help push the food cart around during their free time, thus expanding sales somewhat.

However, relying on this small business to make a fortune was a bit unrealistic.

After a month of trial operation, Wu Tiande tallied the accounts. After deducting costs and wages, the net profit was less than twenty taels of silver—a rather meager sum, not even as valuable as a large bowl of pigeon eggs served at the Rongguo Mansion’s banquet.

Still, Wu Tiande was content and at peace.

The mere twenty taels of pure profit was secondary; through this small stall, he was able to support several family members and save on the expenses for himself and Qingwen, his servant. It was not without merit.

Moreover, he took advantage of the staff’s downtime to produce over ten thousand pieces of honeycomb briquettes and, under the guise of the fast-food business, stockpiled tens of thousands of pounds of loose coal in the warehouse, all without raising suspicion.

This was due to Wu Tiande’s limited capital and financial constraints, which only allowed him to store coal on such a scale.

In the Ningrong Street area, some merchants used firewood for cooking, while others used coal. Although Wu Tiande procured a relatively large amount of coal, it had not yet attracted any attention.

As the fast-food business steadily gained traction, Wu Tiande gradually transferred daily operations to Mrs. Lou, appointing her as manager and raising her monthly wage to two taels of silver—somewhat more than the two thousand wen earned by the head chef.

Mrs. Lou was fair and decisive, bold and straightforward, so no one dared to disobey her.

Especially Jiao Ya. Initially, under the guidance of Bao Er’s wife, she had flirted with Wu Tiande several times, deliberately revealing most of her snow-white skin in front of him when no one else was looking. Yet, receiving no response, she realized her appearance could not compete with Qingwen’s and that she failed to catch the master’s eye. She then turned her attention to Duoguan.

Though Duoguan was somewhat of a drunkard, he was good-looking and an excellent cook, besides being Qingwen’s cousin on her maternal side. From Jiao Ya’s perspective, marrying Duoguan would be a decent match, far better than being sold by her brothers, Jiao Fu and Jiao Gui, to rich old men in their seventies and eighties as a concubine.

To cozy up to Duoguan, she needed Mrs. Lou’s tacit approval and support and thus obeyed the new manager without question.

This arrangement gave Wu Tiande more time to devote to martial arts training.

Though naturally talented, he lacked a renowned master’s guidance and access to martial arts manuals, so his progress was limited.

Wu Tiande was troubled by this and planned to visit the Repentance Cliff on Mount Hua to see if he could gain the favor of the senior Feng Qingyang, a supreme master of the martial world, and become his disciple. At the very least, he hoped to learn the exquisite sword techniques hidden on the cliff’s inner cave walls.

Yet he worried that if he left, Qingwen, a young girl inexperienced in managing affairs, might not be able to keep order among the adults at the shop.

As a newly appointed military officer of the Divine Machine Battalion, although Deng Gang, the general, occasionally overlooked his absences, missing roll calls for several months might lead to dismissal or even charges of desertion—a serious matter indeed.

Caught in indecision, time flew by swiftly. Winter was deepening, and the weather in Beiping City grew colder.

One afternoon, with Bao Er and his wife, Mrs. Lou, and Jiao Ya pushing the food cart to the White Pagoda Temple Fair, the main hall and counter were unattended. Duoguan couldn’t leave the kitchen, so Wu Tiande stopped sword practice and temporarily took over as the shopkeeper.

Stepping out from the backyard, he pulled his blue cotton robe’s collar tighter. His knuckles, pale from gripping the sword earlier, revealed the chill.

His gaze swept over the blue cloth sign hanging at the door—“Truly Tasty Fast-Food Stall”—the six large characters blurred from snow. Icicles hung from the eaves, reflecting the gray sky. Fine snowflakes were swept inside by the cold wind at the door curtain, melting by the stove, leaving only wet traces on the blue bricks.

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Though the snow was light, it muffled all sound, blanketing the world in silence. Few customers remained inside—just a handful of scattered tables.

Wu Tiande leaned against the counter, lost in thought, tapping his fingers lightly on the tabletop. On a whim, he hummed a tune he’d learned from a drama: “The Smiling, Proud Wanderer.” Unbeknownst to him, the guests seated near the door had begun quietly discussing him.

“Brother Liu,” said an elder in black to a short, stout man beside him, “it seems your senior brother Mo is no easy man. He planted a spy in the capital many years ago?”

The stout man replied, “Brother Qu, I find this puzzling myself. That song, ‘The Smiling, Proud Wanderer,’ you and I only practiced a few times stealthily in Yancheng. Maybe someone overheard us. Considering this is your first time in Beiping, and we haven’t played it here before, how could a local tavern keeper hum this tune so well? I think only someone inside the Hengshan Sect could have taught him. But judging by his manner, though he practices the ‘Returning Wind and Falling Wild Goose Sword’ quite well, he seems not to recognize me at all, which is strange.”

The elder in black laughed, “Perhaps the tune spread from General Feng Tang of the Divine Military?”

“General Feng is half a martial artist himself; he would know the rules of the martial world. Even if his reckless son Feng Ziying passed on the sword technique, it’s impossible to master it so well in just a month or two. If he were a disciple of Senior Brother Mo’s faction with such talent, he should be kept close and taught carefully, not sent on mundane martial errands,” the stout man frowned, clearly confused.

They lowered their voices further but found no conclusion. Suddenly, the tune Wu Tiande hummed changed.

The elder in black, raising his wine cup, froze mid-gesture. His cloudy eyes brightened, and a faint smile curled beneath his gray beard. He listened closely, finding the music’s theme fitting the snowy scene outside—a tender sentiment in the snow. The melody was gentle, unlike the usual vigorous martial tunes, carrying delicate emotions of love and longing. Rare and exquisite!

The stout man smiled but said nothing as the tune shifted again.

His brow furrowed. The sad, lingering melody weighed heavily on him, evoking a sense of weeping. He set down his cup, thinking: This song wallows too much in sorrow, lacking dignity. This style resembles the erhu played by Senior Brother Mo—focused only on emotional release, missing refinement.

Thus, he ceased doubting Wu Tiande’s identity, assuming he was sent by Senior Brother Mo.

This stout man was Liu Zhengfeng, the second top master of the Hengshan Sect, drinking with him was Qu Yang, an elder of the Demonic Cult, and Qu Feiyan, Qu Yang’s granddaughter.

Liu Zhengfeng had a strained relationship with Mo Da. Having decided Wu Tiande was Mo’s disciple, he planned not to linger.

After a hurried meal with Qu Yang, they rose to leave. But Qu Feiyan, sitting at the end, suddenly spoke, “Grandpa, Uncle Liu, I like those two songs very much; can I listen a little longer?” She shook Qu Yang’s sleeve, her large eyes bright with expectation.

Qu Yang sighed, exchanging a glance with Liu Zhengfeng, then they sat back down.

“You little brat, always know how to charm,” Qu Yang said affectionately, tapping her forehead.

Qu Feiyan tried to hum along with Wu Tiande but couldn’t quite catch the melody’s turns and soon gave up.

She stood, running to the other side of the counter, tilting her youthful face toward Wu Tiande. “Shopkeeper, your songs are wonderful. What are their names? Do they have lyrics?”

Seeing she was only about twelve or thirteen, wearing twin buns, lively-eyed and sharp as Qingwen, Wu Tiande softened his tone and smiled. “These two are called ‘Drifting Snow’ and ‘Mourning Snow.’ I still remember the lyrics; I’ll recite them for you.”

He hummed the lyrics of “Drifting Snow”: “Once again snow drifts past, drifting through sorrowful memories, making me think of you again, stirring my heartache…”

Then sang “Mourning Snow”: “Whenever snowflakes flutter down, thinking of you is a habit I can’t break. Gazing skyward, I ask bitterly why fate entwined us wrongly…”

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Qu Feiyan was entranced, clutching her clothes unconsciously. The songs moved her so deeply that tears welled in her eyes.

If not for her grandfather’s repeated urging, she wouldn’t have left.

“Shopkeeper, thank you for teaching me. I am Qu Feiyan. If you have good new songs, please teach me again. Here’s some money—keep the change as my tuition for learning music,” she said happily, handing over a string of coins.

Wu Tiande was startled—could this girl really be Qu Feiyan from the original “Smiling, Proud Wanderer” novel?

Did this mean the white-haired elder in black was Qu Yang, and the stout man was Liu Zhengfeng of Hengshan Sect?

Though his mind reeled, Wu Tiande kept a calm expression and refused the payment. “These songs were created to express feelings and resonate with others. I only taught you casually; no tuition is needed. Please don’t mention it again. Your meal totals 185 wen; I’ll charge you 180. Here’s 70 wen extra—please keep it.”

Qu Feiyan, raised in the chivalrous spirit of the martial world, wouldn’t insist. She accepted the seventy wen.

Qu Yang and Liu Zhengfeng exchanged glances and nodded discreetly.

Over the next six months, the grandfather and granddaughter often visited Wu Tiande’s fast-food stall.

As for Liu Zhengfeng, after struggling in Beiping, he received guidance from a master and rode overnight to Tanzhou Prefecture to seek official rank with the new Hunan Governor, Lord Wu.

Someone told him Governor Wu had borrowed over a million taels of silver from Beiping’s banks in one go to secure a high-ranking post from Prince Zhongshun, all to be repaid with interest within three years.

The newly appointed governor was merciless in collecting money and accepted any bribes openly.

Thus, even though Liu Zhengfeng was a commoner from Hengshan County, Governor Wu would vouch for him if the money was right.

Selling offices was risky—if exposed, Governor Wu might lose his position, but failure to repay debts could doom his entire family.

Of course, Liu Zhengfeng kept this insider information to himself; only Qu Yang knew.

While Liu Zhengfeng stayed out of sight in Beiping, Qu Yang frequently appeared publicly to conceal their secret dealings.

From spring onward, Qu Yang often strolled around Beiping with Qu Feiyan, visiting Wu Tiande’s stall many times.

Qu Yang favored “Truly Tasty” because of occasional new dishes like Kung Pao Chicken, Mapo Tofu, and Fish-Flavored Shredded Pork, which he had never tasted before. Upon trying them, he praised the stall highly and developed unexpected expectations for the little shop.

Qu Feiyan came less for the food and more to learn popular tunes from Wu Tiande.

Though Wu Tiande was a musical novice, his centuries of cultural accumulation and decades of exposure to popular music allowed him to hum classic melodies that felt fresh and far more pleasing than traditional operas.

With frequent visits, Qu Feiyan and Qingwen gradually became acquainted. Qingwen, being frail, was taught martial arts by Qu Feiyan, and they grew close, almost like inseparable friends.