A Gentleman Repays His Debts

Chapter 21: He Who Doesn't Avenge a Grievance Is No Man

Jiu'er was cleaning Jiang Hao's ears. He closed his eyes and enjoyed it for a while, then suddenly asked, "I heard from the helpers earlier that the police arrested you."

"Mhm~"

"Tell me about it."

Jiu'er glanced at the man and said softly, "That day, I didn't know what was going on. The police stopped me on the road, said I'd killed Li Mafeng, and threw me in prison. I was locked up for a whole night. It was dark and damp and stinking in there, and people kept screaming weirdly. I was so scared I curled up in a corner and didn't dare move."

As she spoke, Jiu'er scooted closer to Jiang Hao, pressing against him, seeking the safest harbor. Jiang Hao held her tight.

When she finished, Jiu'er turned to look at him, paused, and asked, "That business with Li Mafeng—was it you?"

Jiu'er was sharp. Before, she wouldn't have thought of Jiang Hao, but now he was the most likely one. That man had taken her in the Gauze Curtain, told her he'd come for her, and that very night, Li Mafeng was dealt with—alive or dead, no one knew. Jiang Hao was the prime suspect.

Jiang Hao met her eyes and said, "You don't need to know about things like that. I'll bear it all."

Jiu'er froze, then laid her head on his chest. "I won't ask. I won't."

Both of them were tired that day, having been through so much. They held each other tight and slowly drifted off to sleep. Jiu'er slept soundly, but her arms never let go of Jiang Hao.

The next day, sunlight streamed through the window into the room. Jiang Hao woke to find Jiu'er gone. He dressed and stepped outside to see her tidying up the yard. When she spotted him, she smiled warmly. "You're awake. Why not sleep a little longer?"

"It's late. Time to get up."

The sun looked like it was already eight o'clock. By this hour on a normal day, the distillery helpers would have eaten breakfast and been working for a while.

"Let me get you some water to wash your face," Jiu'er said.

"No need, I'll do it myself." Jiang Hao reached for the copper basin in her hands.

Jiu'er dodged him. "Don't bother. This is a woman's job." Without letting him argue, she went to fetch the water.

The copper basin sat on a short stool in the yard, a towel draped over its edge, the water inside warm. How many people got such treatment? The conditions were one thing, but a woman like this was hard to find.

In modern times, they'd vanished.

While Jiang Hao washed up, Jiu'er brought out breakfast, setting it on a large wooden stump in the yard: a bowl of scrambled eggs, a scallion with a dish of thick sauce, a flatbread in a basket, and a big bowl of thick millet porridge.

Jiang Hao thought to himself, So this is really settling down—sleeping with another man's wife, taking his house, seizing his business. A cuckoo occupying a magpie's nest doesn't get more thorough than this.

As Jiang Hao ate, Jiu'er sat nearby watching, her eyes full of affection. She found even the way he bit into the flatbread and slurped the porridge handsome, never tiring of the sight. When he finished, she quickly cleared the dishes.

Luohan came up the slope and, seeing through the low courtyard wall that Jiang Hao was done eating, walked into the yard. "Brother Zhan'ao, finished eating? I need to talk to the boss about something."

The "boss" Luohan meant was Jiu'er. To him, even if Jiang Hao slept in that room, the distillery was still Jiu'er's.

Jiu'er hurried out of the house, her lovesick look gone, replaced by a brisk demeanor. "Elder Brother Luohan, what brings you here? What's the matter?"

"I wanted to ask the boss when the distillery will fire up again. We still owe the city's wine shops a lot of liquor. And there's another problem—we're out of money. We need funds to buy grain. How do you want to handle that?" Luohan said.

Jiu'er frowned. She had no money either.

Jiang Hao heard clearly. Firing up the stills for new wine—this was what he'd been waiting for. The hope of completing his mission lay in that new batch. He asked, "How much do we need for the grain?"

"At least a hundred silver dollars. Two hundred would be better, since firing up a batch isn't cheap," Luohan said.

Jiang Hao said, "I'll go get the money and bring it back this afternoon. Elder Brother Luohan, you can arrange for the grain and getting the distillery ready to fire up."

Luohan's face lit up at the news that Jiang Hao could get the money. "Don't worry about that. As long as we have the cash, the grain shop will deliver. I'll tell the helpers to start cleaning up. Once the grain arrives, we can begin making wine."

"Good. I'll leave it to you, Elder Brother Luohan," Jiang Hao said.

After Luohan left, Jiu'er came up to Jiang Hao. "You want to use that money? That's your money. How can you spend it on the distillery? I'll figure something out myself."

Jiang Hao feigned anger. "What, still drawing a line between you and me? What did you say last night?"

Seeing his expression, Jiu'er burst into laughter. "Fine, fine. You're my man. I'll listen to you."

"Then wait for me. I'll go withdraw the money."

Jiang Hao led a horse away—yes, led it. For a big shot, how could he not have his own mount? Even if he couldn't ride, he'd push it along.

He retrieved the silver dollars from the sorghum field. Even so, he dawdled for ages and only returned at dusk, afraid the distillery helpers might notice anything. In that half-day, Jiang Hao did only one thing:

Learn to ride.

When it came to riding, Jiang Hao had neither theory nor practice. His impression of it came mostly from TV shows—he vaguely remembered that kicking the horse's flanks made it go forward and pulling the reins stopped it. Beyond that, he knew nothing.

This time, he'd deliberately picked the gentlest-looking mare from the three horses, based on hearsay. He wasn't sure if it was accurate.

Even so, he didn't dare mount directly. By a forest edge, he tied the reins to a tree so the horse couldn't run off, then slowly climbed on. The mare was already well-trained and obedient, not moving. That let Jiang Hao breathe easier.

He wobbled left and right, trying to get a feel for sitting on the horse. Mounting, dismounting, feeling it out—he repeated this a dozen times. Gradually, his courage grew. He untied the reins from the tree, mounted, and let the horse walk slowly.

Swaying on the horse's back—yeah, not a bad feeling. He slowly got used to the motion and let the horse break into a gentle trot.

And that was as far as he went.

He didn't dare let the mare run wild. With his current skill, the odds of falling off were a solid 82.57%. Jiang Hao had no hobby of rolling on the ground.

Back at Shibali Slope Distillery, Jiang Hao left two hundred silver dollars and handed the rest to Jiu'er to keep safe. He called Luohan over and gave him the money. Luohan took it happily and went off to buy grain. With this cash, the distillery could run again, and things would slowly get better.

Carts of grain arrived one after another. Luohan and the helpers bustled about. With nothing for Jiang Hao to do, he got an idea—he'd take a trip.

Some grudges couldn't be forgotten. Like Police Chief Qian Donglai.