Chapter 129: How Could You Still Laugh?

The waiter chatted a lot more with Chen Changsheng about Lord Liu, his words full of deep respect. Just as he’d said before, speaking the truth seemed to be a way to clear his conscience.

It was late morning when guests began trickling into the teahouse. Chen Changsheng told the waiter to tend to them while he stayed at his table, waiting alone.

Once most of the guests had arrived, the Storyteller appeared on the teahouse stage.

Again, the Storyteller’s Wooden Clapper slapped down.

“Continuing from where we left off…” the Storyteller began.

That simple phrase signaled the start of the teahouse’s busiest, liveliest time.

Chen Changsheng sipped his tea, his eyes fixed on the stage below.

Whenever the Storyteller built up to something especially stirring, the audience would erupt with shouts of “Hooray!” and “Great!”

If a wealthy listener was particularly moved, they might even toss up a few silver coins as a reward for the storyteller.

The scent of tea mixed with the heavier fragrance of rosewood incense filled the air. That very atmosphere alone made it hard for anyone to snap out of its spell.

Chen Changsheng glanced down at his cup.

He hadn’t really liked tea before, but maybe because he liked this teahouse so much, he’d grown quite fond of this brew too.

Love extends to everything connected with the loved one. This might just be a case of that.

The sun climbed higher, moving towards the west. After noon passed, the teahouse would thin out for a while, only to fill back up in the afternoon.

The waiter, busy all morning, finally found a moment to rest.

He came upstairs and saw Chen Changsheng still sitting alone. “Sir,” he said, “your tea’s gone cold. Let me get you a fresh pot?”

Chen Changsheng shook his head. “No need for the trouble right now. He should be arriving soon. We’ll change it when he gets here.”

The waiter nodded. Just then, someone shouted from downstairs. He quickly excused himself and raced back down.

He worked the front hall, bustling about without much rest.

Chen Changsheng kept waiting. Guests came and went in the teahouse as the afternoon wore on, but still, there was no sign of Liu Huaizhang.

He hadn’t bothered calculating the time, but deep down, Chen Changsheng knew Liu Huaizhang was a punctual man. If he’d agreed to come today, he wouldn’t miss it without good reason.

But the harsh midday sun softened, lengthening the shadows, and still, Liu Huaizhang hadn’t arrived.

It was late afternoon now.

Chen Changsheng sighed quietly. He probably guessed that Liu Huaizhang wouldn’t be coming after all.

Finally, he raised a hand to quietly count the time.

His fingers suddenly stilled.

A jolt went through Chen Changsheng’s heart.

“Well then…” Chen Changsheng shook his head with another quiet sigh and stood up to leave the teahouse.

Seeing him prepare to depart, the waiter asked, “Sir, isn’t Lord Liu coming today?”

Chen Changsheng nodded. “It seems not.”

“Ah…” The waiter hesitated. “Perhaps… perhaps he ran into some serious trouble? That might be why…”

“I understand,” Chen Changsheng cut him off with a soft smile. “Thank you again for the tea.”

“You’re too kind, sir,” the waiter smiled in return.

With a final nod, Chen Changsheng stepped out into the street. The waiter watched his back as he walked away, musing about the man. Such an unusual presence… though his exact status felt mysterious. But then the waiter thought it over and relaxed. Anyone who could call Lord Liu a friend… well, his status didn’t really matter anymore in the end.

After leaving the teahouse, Chen Changsheng headed for Long Dong Ward.

Long Dong Ward was also in the greater Shangjing area. Sitting atop mineral veins, governed by official ironworks workshops established by the Imperial Majesty, the constant coal burning and metal forging made it noticeably less prosperous-looking than other wards. Thick smoke, visible even against the daylight sky, drifted above the district.

Entering Long Dong Ward, Chen Changsheng walked westward.

Liu Huaizhang’s home was there.

It stood in stark contrast to what Chen Changsheng originally imagined.

For the Magistrate of Shangjing, Liu Huaizhang certainly lived poorly. No grand mansion. No Maids. No steward. Just himself, alone in a small house tucked away in Long Dong Ward.

The courtyard was quite dilapidated, even overgrown with weeds. It seemed Liu Huaizhang didn’t spend much time tending to it. Probably too busy.

Chen Changsheng walked into the courtyard and knocked at the door.

Thump, thump…

Inside, lying on his low bed, Liu Huaizhang looked frail and pale. Slowly opening his eyes, he called out weakly, “Who’s there?”

“Old man,” Chen Changsheng’s voice came through the door, “seems you’ve forgotten something?”

Recognizing both the voice and the specific title, Liu Huaizhang realized at once who it was.

He rose slowly, steps shaky as he made his way to open the door.

A wry smile touched Liu Huaizhang’s lips. “Ah, young friend,” he said wearily. “How’d you find your way here?”

“Just came to see you,” Chen Changsheng replied with a smile.

Liu Huaizhang invited him in. Inside, it was incredibly plain. The dirt floor was uneven. One corner of the only table was broken, propped up by a stone, yet the table still tilted precariously.

“My home is humble,” Liu Huaizhang murmured, settling with difficulty. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Chen Changsheng sat down opposite him, studying his face carefully. Liu Huaizhang looked deathly pale, as though seriously ill.

“You’re sick?” Chen Changsheng asked directly.

Liu Huaizhang let out another tired, humorless chuckle. “Disease born of a heavy heart. Nothing fatal.”

Chen Changsheng swept his eyes around the sparsely furnished room. “I mean… you are the Magistrate of Shangjing. How is it you live so poorly?”

Liu Huaizhang paused for a moment. The answer was simple. “No money.”

Chen Changsheng pressed, “You didn’t see a physician, understandable maybe. But no one to look after you either? If your breath gave out one day here… likely no one would even know.”

Liu Huaizhang inhaled deeply. “What option is there? This useless life of mine… if I took my last breath here? Maybe it would be for the best. Simple.”

Chen Changsheng shook his head. “The people of Shangjing City value your life immensely. It’s only you who fails to see its worth.”

Liu Huaizhang shook his head too. His smile was bitter this time, touched with self-mockery. But he said nothing.

Chen Changsheng kept his gaze fixed on him. “Presenting yourself at court seems to have worn you down… and at your current age, you can’t endure much more of this.”

“I can still hold on… for a little while longer,” Liu Huaizhang insisted softly.

Chen Changsheng’s voice was suddenly low and clear. “But you know the truth yourself already, don’t you?”

Liu Huaizhang stiffened. He lifted his eyes to meet Chen Changsheng’s sharp gaze. Silence hung in the cramped room. He seemed lost for words, unable to explain.

Finally, a flicker of confusion crossed Liu Huaizhang’s face. “Is it… that obvious?”

Chen Changsheng didn’t waver. “What do you think?”

Liu Huaizhang thought quietly, then answered slowly. “I suspected… but perhaps I believed I could hang on… until… until that time finally arrived.”

“Like grass trampled, like paper ash thin,” Chen Changsheng said, his tone firm. “If the weight on your heart doesn’t shift, it will only worsen. Right now, you cling on solely by sheer force of a single hope. If that hope fails you again? Then truly… that will be your last breath.”

Liu Huaizhang stayed silent. Instead, he looked back at Chen Changsheng and offered another smile. It seemed foolish, almost simple, yet his eyes held a distinct unease – the panic of someone whose carefully constructed shield has just been shattered.

Chen Changsheng stared at that weary, smiling face. One thought burned intensely in his mind. His voice cut through the silence, urgent and incredulous:

“How can you still laugh?”