The Most Powerful Young Master of the Northern Song Dynasty

Chapter 22: The Sage Next Door

On their way out of the herbal shop, they ran into Old Liao. Wang Bang asked Old Liao, “Uncle Liao, the guy who runs this pharmacy seems pretty powerful. He doesn’t seem too afraid of me—who’s backing him?” “The owner of this pharmacy goes by the surname Sima—he’s a relative of Lord Sima,” Old Liao said with a peculiar expression. “Oh,” Wang Bang said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. So he’s a relative of Sima Shengren next door. Sima Guang really is a sage; he does indeed live in the “villa district” right next door to our Old Wang family, and his office is also right next door to Old Wang’s: the Prefect’s Office. Yes, this arch-rival of the “Great Demon King” is currently serving as the Prefect of Shuzhou Prefecture, and just last month he was also appointed Military Commissioner and Consolation Commissioner of Huaixi. Back in the day, Sima Guang wasn’t as powerful as Wang Anshi; Old Wang was a “standing committee member” of the Huainan West Circuit, whereas Sima Shengren was not. However, following Nong Zhigao’s rebellion, Zhao Shidan’s death in battle, and the fall of Guangzhou, the imperial court began to panic. Consequently, they established a military command headquarters in the Huainan West Circuit, with Sima Guang serving in that capacity as well. Consequently, Sima Guang now holds both military and civil authority over the entire “province.” Old Wang, meanwhile, holds control over finances and the power to overturn judicial rulings. Essentially, the Huainan region is now run by these two men. It’s truly a case of “opposites attract.” Sima Guang was a good man, but he was all talk and no action—he could spout slogans based on Neo-Confucianism but couldn’t actually teach others how to conduct themselves. So even though living conditions in Shuzhou were better than elsewhere under his administration, the streets were still overrun with thugs and ruffians running amok. If Old Wang were in charge, those thugs and ruffians would have been dealt with so thoroughly they’d be kicking up a fuss. So, as Geng Tianji put it, Sima Guang and Wang Anshi used to be good friends—but that was simply because “distance makes the heart grow fonder.” With no conflicting interests, they’d just exchange poetry, show off their bohemian tastes, and sip tea together. Under such circumstances, of course they were good friends. But put two tigers together, and that’s exactly where their differences of opinion arose—right here in Shuzhou. Wang Bang thought the “Great Demon King” was really quite sharp. Historically speaking, Old Wang really did bully Old Sima his entire life. During the more than a decade that Old Wang was in power, Old Sima was tormented to the point of desperation, forced to serve as a low-ranking official in remote, inhospitable regions, unable to return to the Capital City to have his say. Even later, when Sima Guang became chancellor, he was simply not in the same league as Old Wang; their reputations were in entirely different tiers. As a result, later generations only remember Sima Guang for smashing a clay jar and ceding territory. However, when it comes to Wang Anshi, everyone knows him as the “Stubborn Chancellor.” He dominated an era and came to symbolize it. Many people in later generations don’t know who the emperors were during Wang Anshi’s time, but they do know that Wang Anshi was the chancellor. By the same token, Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang are buried together; that place should be called the Han Zhao Lie Temple, but the common folk of Chengdu have always known it only as the “Wuhou Shrine.” That’s just how the average person is… After walking for a while, Wang Bang began to whisper slanderous words to Old Liao: “Uncle Liao, this money is the result of my narrowly escaping death time and again. As a man of integrity, one must conduct oneself in this world…” Old Liao interrupted with a headache: “Young Master, spare me the ‘true man’ rhetoric—just tell me what you want to do.” Only then did Wang Bang’s face flush slightly as he said, “The Wang family’s great enterprise relies on this money to get started; it can’t be confiscated by my old man, or else Xiao Ya and I will be heartbroken.” “Our master has such a quirky son—it’s quite amusing. All right, I don’t want to get involved, and I don’t want to ask,” Old Liao said. After walking around for a while, they passed by the rice noodle vendor’s stall. Coincidentally, they ran into that Young Master Sima from the herbal shop earlier, strutting through the market with a gang of hangers-on. These guys practically took over the rice noodle lady’s stall. A dozen or so of them ate over twenty bowls, yet one of the lackeys casually scattered a handful of copper coins on the table, making it look like they were rolling all over the place—as if there were plenty of money. In reality, Wang Bang, the “Little Abacus,” could tell at a glance that it wasn’t nearly enough—there were only thirteen copper coins. The rice noodle vendor, looking a bit aggrieved, lowered her head and crouched down to pick up the coins. She knew full well the amount was short, but she said nothing. They didn’t notice Wang Bang and his party. Young Master Sima even used his folding fan to lift the rice noodle vendor’s chin to get a better look, then chuckled, “You’re getting more and more lovely, young lady.” The rice noodle vendor, flustered, whispered, “Thank you, sir, for your kind words.” “I’m not just saying this to flatter you—it’s really true, hahaha.” He pretended to be refined as he unfolded his folding fan, fanned himself, and turned to leave. “You insolent ruffian!” Wang Bang had long taken a dislike to him, and when he spotted this chance to play the hero and rescue a damsel in distress, he steered Old Liao right over, then, looking down on him from above, slapped him hard on the back of the head, knocking his hat askew. “Who’s the good-for-nothing who’s so blind as to dare hit me?” Young Master Sima roared in anger, then turned to look. Suppressing his rage, he said, “It’s you again. How have I offended you?” “Don’t you want to make it in this world anymore? Even when I eat, I have to pay for it—which of your scrawny little selves dares to think you’re above the rules? I have to work my ass off and take risks just to get a snack. Yet you can just get away with being a deadbeat—that’s why I’m filled with envy, jealousy, and hatred toward you!” Wang Bang shouted. The young master clearly looked as if he’d reached the limit of his anger, but he hesitated for a second, suspecting Wang Bang might be setting a trap. After casting a suspicious glance at the scheming Old Liao standing beside him, he put on a fake smile, turned around, slapped his lackey across the face, and snapped, “Didn’t you pay enough?” “It seems… I accidentally shorted you a few coins,” the henchman said, covering his face after gauging the situation. Young Master Sima kicked him again and barked, “Then what are you standing there for? Hurry up and pay up.” So the henchman’s leader placed seven more copper coins on the table. With that, Young Master Sima, suppressing his anger, gave Wang Bang a slight bow with clasped fists, said nothing, and turned to leave. Wang Bang was slightly disappointed—since the young man hadn’t taken the bait, he still lacked sufficient grounds to punish him. The onlookers gathered around, clapping their hands and praising Young Master Wang as a heroic youth—truly worthy of being Wang Anshi’s son, and so on. But the rice-noodle vendor couldn’t bring herself to rejoice; she wanted to say something but didn’t dare. She knew Wang Bang was just a child acting out of good intentions, so she couldn’t blame him for “meaning well but doing harm.” She knew that Young Master Sima was not someone to be offended lightly; this incident might have repercussions. While Young Master Sima might not dare to confront Wang Bang directly, he might take his anger out on someone else. An old man selling chestnuts nearby spoke up: “The young magistrate’s son has a good heart, but he lacks experience and doesn’t understand the potential fallout from this matter. Strictly speaking, there is still order under Magistrate Sima’s rule. While those people are certainly restless, they’ve actually been quite mild-mannered. As long as things stay this way, everyone can get by. But now that this has happened, I’m afraid there won’t be peace in the future.” Wang Bang laughed heartily and said, “My fellow villagers, I have been deeply influenced by my family’s upbringing. I will certainly stand by all of you and ensure you have no worries.” “How exactly will you do that?” one man asked. Wang Bang chuckled, “You can hire me to protect you. Of course, labor requires compensation, so you’ll need to pay a certain protection fee to receive my protection. I, Da Bang, am a man of honor—once I’ve collected the money, I’ll get the job done, and my after-sales service will be top-notch. I’ll make sure your money is spent transparently and that you get your money’s worth.” Uh… Most people immediately pretended not to know Wang Bang and turned to leave. The rice noodle vendor, however, had become relatively familiar with the young master and trusted him, so she asked, “Is the protection fee expensive?” “Not at all, not at all. I’m a man of integrity in this business. As long as you pay regularly and in full, you’re guaranteed effective protection. If any blind-as-a-bat scoundrel dares to bully you, just watch as Old Liao beats them senseless. All it takes is one percent of your gross sales to secure that protection,” Wang Bang said. To be honest, Wang Anshi had a very good reputation among the common folk. Plus, since Wang Bang liked to bring Erya here to snack, the nearby street vendors trusted him. So when a group led by the Rice Noodle Lady heard this, they thought it was a good deal. After all, in the Song Dynasty, street thugs and gangs were as common as weeds. Some would eat for free, others would shortchange the vendors—for most street vendors, the minimum daily loss amounted to about one liang, and they had to put up with the abuse on top of that. If they paid just 0. 1% in protection money, they could hide under the umbrella of the young official’s protection—which was actually quite a bargain. The Rice Noodle Lady’s average daily earnings were only a few dozen coins. After Shao Qing, she placed the seven copper coins she’d just demanded as extra into Wang Bang’s small hand and, adopting a “let’s give it a try” attitude, said, “The Wang family is trustworthy. The young master is mighty!” The young master is mighty! Those guys around her who hadn’t paid were chanting slogans again—how despicable. Fortunately, Wang Bang wasn’t in a hurry. This was Shang Yang’s “reward for carrying logs”—word of mouth would spread quickly, and by then, she certainly wouldn’t be short on customers. But before he had a chance to accept the copper coins, Old Liao confiscated them. Looking embarrassed, Old Liao returned the money to the rice-noodle vendor’s wife, saying, “The kid doesn’t know any better—don’t take it seriously. How could we possibly take money from our neighbors? It’s our duty as men of honor to act chivalrously. If Magistrate Wang found out, he’d surely beat him to death.” Wang Bang felt a wave of frustration. Old Liao had once again come between a couple. Earlier, things had been even worse—he’d almost kissed Jin Mao when Old Liao’s raspy voice suddenly bellowed, “Shut up!” and ruined the whole mood. Who knows who taught him grammar? According to standard rules, he should have shouted “Stop!” —“Shut up” is used during arguments and fights, while “Stop” means “cease the action currently in progress.” And just like that, I didn’t get paid, and Old Liao grabbed me by the neck and dragged me out of the marketplace…