Zhang Shan Was Not Zhang San

The private room's door was pulled open from within.

In that instant, a warm breeze carrying the scent of wine, rouge, powder, and fine sandalwood washed over him. Xu Qing felt as though a soft hand had gently stroked him.

The private room was enormous—far too large to be a room in a restaurant, more like the study of some wealthy lord. Thick patterned carpets covered the floor. Calligraphy and paintings hung on all four walls, while a rosewood screen stood in one corner, carved with lifelike mountains, waters, towers, and pavilions.

A large round table stood in the middle, draped in a snowy white cloth, white as freshly fallen snow. The bowls and plates were fine porcelain traced with gold, the golden lines glimmering faintly beneath the candlelight—until Xu Qing lowered his head.

Seven or eight people sat around the table, men and women alike, dressed in silks and brocades, adorned with gold and jade jewelry. Every one of them carried themselves with distinction, chatting and laughing with ease.

A young gentleman in a moon-white robe sat in the seat of honor. His features were refined, his demeanor composed. He held a cup of tea and took small sips.

Standing in the doorway, Xu Qing felt like a rat that had barged into someone else's ancestral hall. Not a single part of him felt at ease.

He kept his head down, not daring to look at the others. He did not know where to put his hands or whether he should step forward. The threshold lay at his feet, yet his legs had somehow gone weak.

An attendant standing by the door walked over and frowned at him. His tone was neither warm nor cold. "Which residence are you from? Did you come to the wrong room? This is Young Master Su's private room."

"I... I didn't come to the wrong room..." Xu Qing's face flushed crimson, his voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz. "I... I am... Xu Qing from the Zhao Family Martial Hall... Young Master Su invited me..."

"Xu Qing?" The attendant froze for a moment, then turned to glance at Su Changhe in the seat of honor, uncertainty in his eyes.

Su Changhe set down his teacup and looked at Xu Qing. His brow furrowed slightly, only for an instant, before smoothing out again so swiftly it was as though nothing had happened.

He rose to his feet and cupped his hands, wearing a proper smile. "So you are Young Master Xu. Forgive my discourtesy. Thank you for saving my cousin outside the city yesterday. I have prepared this humble wine in gratitude. Please, sit. Please sit."

When the young gentlemen and ladies around the table heard that he was the one who had "saved the cousin," they all changed their expressions. Some nodded, some raised their cups, and some studied Xu Qing curiously.

The spectacle left Xu Qing utterly flustered. His head buzzed, and he had not even heard clearly what Su Changhe had said before blurting out, "Young... Young Master Su is too polite. It was nothing, not worth mentioning..."

But halfway through his words, he suddenly froze.

What?! Yesterday, he had saved a Su Family cousin outside the city? Yesterday, he had followed his mother to his second uncle's house and gotten into an argument. He had not left the city, much less saved anyone!

"Young... Young Master Su... no... that's not..." He wanted to explain, but his tongue seemed tied into a knot inside his mouth, impossible to straighten out.

At that moment, a young lady emerged from behind the screen. She wore a goose-yellow ruqun, its hem embroidered with several sprigs of orchid grass. As she walked, the corners of her skirt swayed gently. Her hair was arranged in an exquisite bun, with a jade hairpin tucked by her temple. Her brows and eyes were lovely, her skin fair—like someone who had stepped out of a painting.

Xu Qing stared, dumbstruck.

His mouth hung open, and he forgot to close it. His eyes were wide as bronze bells.

Step by step, the young lady walked up to Xu Qing and examined him closely. Her gaze settled on his face, moving from his brows to his chin, then from his chin to his collar. Her frown deepened, a thin vertical crease appearing between her brows.

"You are not the person who saved me yesterday." Her voice was not loud, yet everyone in the private room heard her with perfect clarity.

Xu Qing's face turned white with a whoosh, white as the sheet of xuan paper hanging on the wall, utterly bloodless. Trembling, he said, "I... I... I was just about to say... Young Master Su... Young Master Su misunderstood. I didn't leave the city yesterday. I was at home the whole time. I didn't go anywhere..."

The private room fell silent.

Everyone's eyes landed on Xu Qing like countless fine needles stabbing at him from every direction, making his entire body itch with discomfort.

Su Changhe's expression shifted slightly.

He set down his wine cup with a soft clink. Looking toward the attendant, his voice sank. "What happened? You could even invite the wrong person?"

The attendant's face went pale with fright. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he bowed with cupped hands. "Young Master, this servant truly went to the Zhao Family Martial Hall to invite Xu Qing..."

"Is there another Xu Qing at the Zhao Family Martial Hall?" Su Changhe's voice was neither warm nor cold, but dissatisfaction already colored his tone.

Beside Su Changhe, a young gentleman dressed in a sapphire-blue robe suddenly spoke.

He was fair and clean-featured, with a touch of languidness between his brows and eyes. An air of casually worn nobility clung to him from head to toe.

He was Wu Mingyu, the eldest legitimate son of the Wu Clan. Wu Mingyuan, the Wu Clan's illegitimate son at the Zhao Family Martial Hall, was his fourth younger brother.

"Brother Su, this reminds me of something." Wu Mingyu's gaze shifted. "My worthless fourth brother, Wu Mingyuan, also practices boxing at the Zhao Family Martial Hall. He mentioned once when he returned some time ago that there was someone in the martial hall named Xu Qing, whose physique was highly suited to Five Elements Fist. His progress was extremely rapid—he broke through to Bright Strength in just over twenty days."

"When I asked whether it was true, he became unhappy. His face stretched longer than a donkey's, and he said that man's natural talents were merely middling at best, that Bright Strength would be his limit. But..." He paused and glanced at Xin Linger, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "Xu Qing and Xu Qing—those two names do sound somewhat alike. Could Miss Xin have misheard?"

Xin Linger was the young lady Xu Qing had saved yesterday.

The Xin Family was the main branch of the county magistrate's second household, a wealthy family from Baishui Fort.

Dissatisfied with the marriage her parents had arranged for her, she had secretly run to the county town to find her aunt. On the road, she had unexpectedly encountered bandits.

Xin Linger's delicate brows drew together as her fingers twisted her handkerchief. She tried hard to recall yesterday's events. When that man had given the bandits his name, she had indeed heard Xu Qing. Still, perhaps she had misheard. Xu Qing and Xu Qing had similar pronunciations to begin with. She truly could not tell anymore.

Su Changhe's expression eased somewhat. He glanced at Xu Qing, and the courtesy in his eyes had already vanished. He said blandly, "Young Master Xu, it seems we made a mistake. It is inconvenient for us to host you today, so we will not keep you any longer."

He waved a hand, lightly, as though brushing away a speck of dust from the table. The attendant immediately stepped forward and made an inviting gesture.

Xu Qing's calves trembled, so weak he could barely stand. His face was red as a boiled shrimp, the flush spreading from the base of his neck all the way to his earlobes, hot enough to fry an egg.

He did not dare look at anyone. Head lowered and back bent, like a dog whose tail had been stepped on, he tucked his tail and shuffled step by step toward the stairs.

His foot caught on the hem of his robe, and he nearly fell. Only by grabbing the doorframe did he steady himself.

He heard a soft laugh behind him. He did not know who had made it. The laughter was faint, but when it reached his ears, it was like a blade carving into his heart again and again.

His face reddened further, turning purple, then nearly black. He wished he could shove his head into a wall. He did not know how he made it downstairs or how he got out of the Lucky Auspice Restaurant.

The night wind blew across his face, cold and bleak. He stood in the middle of the street, his mind completely blank.

He wanted to find a crack in the ground and crawl into it—burrow underground, burrow somewhere no one could see him, burrow somewhere without the name "Xu Qing."

Inside the private room, Su Changhe sat down again. The chair creaked softly.

He lifted his wine cup and took a sip, his eyes resting on the now-closed door for two breaths before moving away to the attendant.

His voice was not loud, but the attendant's ears stood up like a rabbit's. "Go to the Zhao Family Martial Hall again. This time, ask clearly whether it is Xu Qing. If you cannot invite him, then there is no need for you to come back."

The attendant wiped the sweat from his forehead and repeatedly agreed, his voice rushed and hurried, before quickly leaving the room.

Wu Mingyu set down his wine cup and smiled, amusement in his expression. "Brother Su, I am rather curious about this Xu Qing. Breaking through to Bright Strength in just over twenty days, and even making my arrogant illegitimate brother green with envy—he must truly have some skill."

Su Changhe did not respond. He merely raised his wine cup and took a small sip, his gaze fixed on the candle flame as though he were thinking of something.

Xin Linger sat to one side with her head lowered. The handkerchief in her hands had already been twisted into a crumpled mess. She spoke softly, "Cousin, if you cannot invite him, then forget it..."

Su Changhe looked at her and smiled, his expression carrying an elder brother's certainty. "Do not worry, Linger. I will invite him. For the grace of saving a life, we cannot fail to offer even a word of thanks."

Zhao Family Martial Hall.

Moonlight filtered through the bamboo leaves, scattering broken silver across the blue-brick ground of the inner courtyard.

Xu Qing was practicing his fists. Punch after punch, his muscles and bones rang in unison, ten layers of force stacking one atop another as the air cracked with pa pa sounds.

His shadow stretched long beneath the moonlight, cast against the wall. It expanded and contracted with his movements, like a fierce beast pacing inside a cage.

He had already been practicing for half an hour. Sweat drenched his whole body, running down his back. His training clothes were soaked through and clung to his skin. Yet his breathing remained steady, each inhale and exhale like the rise and fall of tides, unhurried and unruffled. His footwork was still solid, every step on the blue bricks rooted as though he had grown into the ground.

Zhao Yan sat in the pavilion watching. He held a tea bowl in one hand and stroked his beard with the other, nodding from time to time, his face full of gratified smiles.

Ning Yun stood nearby, his expression gentle. His eyes followed Xu Qing's figure as if watching a tree stretching upward, changing by the day, impossible to watch enough.

Chen Wang hurried into the inner courtyard, his footsteps quick and heavy, his boots clacking against the blue bricks. He stopped beside the pavilion and bowed. "Master, the Su Family's second young master has sent someone again."

Zhao Yan put down his tea bowl and looked at him.

Chen Wang continued, "They said they invited the wrong person. They did not mean to invite Junior Brother Xu Qing, but Junior Brother Xu Qing to a banquet at the Lucky Auspice Restaurant. The visitor said Junior Brother Xu saved Young Master Su's cousin outside the city yesterday, and they wish to thank him in person."

Zhao Yan did not speak immediately. He raised his tea bowl and took another sip, his gaze falling upon the figure still practicing his fists.

When Chen Wang had reported that the Su Family was inviting Xu Qing to a banquet that morning, he had already found it strange. He knew Xu Qing well enough. His kung fu was mediocre, and his character was even less fit to be seen in polite society. Why would a young master of the Su Family invite him?

Now he understood.

The Su Family wished to invite Xu Qing, not Xu Qing.

Their names were similar, so there had been a mix-up.

Zhao Yan was silent for a moment. Then he rose and walked to the edge of the pavilion, calling out, "A-Qing."

Xu Qing withdrew his fists and turned around. His forehead was covered in sweat, and his breathing had yet to fully settle. "Master."

"Did you save a young lady yesterday as well?" Zhao Yan asked. Xu Qing had not mentioned saving anyone, but Sun Ping had reported it.

Xu Qing nodded, not understanding why his master was asking about it now.

"Change your clothes and go to the Lucky Auspice Restaurant." Zhao Yan's voice was calm and measured. "That young lady is a cousin of the Su Family. The Su Family's second young master has invited you to a banquet to thank you. You cannot refuse. His father, Magistrate Su, has some acquaintance with me, and your senior brother Su Mingkong from the inner courtyard is also from the Su Family. Go sit for a while, have a cup of wine, and do not be discourteous."

Xu Qing was stunned. The girl he had casually saved was actually the county magistrate's cousin?

He wiped away his sweat and came back to himself. He wanted to say no—he had never sought any reward in the first place. But seeing his master's expression, it was neither an order nor a demand, but a gentle, impossible-to-refuse sense that you should go.

He swallowed his words, nodded, and turned to head back into his room.