The Most Powerful Young Master of the Northern Song Dynasty

Chapter 49: Dangerous Goods

On the cold streets, vendors and passersby bustled about—some pushing carts, others walking their dogs, and still others standing at the entrances to alleys, lost in thought. Others were shoveling snow in front of their doors. Compared to before, there were now more Hu merchants selling spices. Their apparent fearlessness in the cold captivated the crowds in the marketplace; with sales pitches reminiscent of “Naobaijin,” they managed to draw quite a few women passing by to stop and watch. Some women, having a few coins to spare, began thinking about making themselves smell lovely. This is because business in Shuzhou has become much easier these days, and as a result, the town has flourished on its own. I came upon the rice noodle vendor’s stall. The beautiful rice noodle vendor looked extremely nervous. It was because the young master Sima, whom she’d met a few times before, was sitting at her stall eating again. According to Ma Jinsi and the others, this fellow now actually pays for his food, but he just loves coming here to gawk at the rice noodle girl’s figure. Ma Jinsi, being uneducated, described his gaze as “quite lecherous.” This young master was Shuzhou’s “playboy tyrant”—the kind everyone hated. The direct reason Wang Bang couldn’t stand this man was that Ma Jinsi couldn’t collect protection money from him and didn’t dare to beat him up. Yet he was having a tangible impact on the order of Shuzhou’s streets. Every time this guy took to the streets with his “invincible formation”—though he didn’t actually kill or set fires—quite a few street vendors would pack up and leave as if fleeing city inspectors. When they packed up and left, the most direct impact was on Wang Bang’s protection money. Aside from the direct loss in revenue, there was also a decline in Wang Bang’s credibility and a loss of intangible assets. So lately, Wang Bang has been thinking about how to scare this scoundrel into submission once and for all, to teach him a lesson. Young Master Sima finished his meal and stood up. He couldn’t figure out why the rice noodle vendor was so afraid of him—he’d clearly just gone over to give her money, yet she’d nervously taken a few steps back. So Wang Bang concluded: This kid is up to no good. He’s making the rice noodle vendor feel like she “dare not call the police and cannot call the police.” A group of tough-looking hangers-on surrounding Young Master Sima gave him a nudge. When he turned around and saw Wang Bang also sitting at the stall, he looked very displeased, thinking, “It’s you again, you little thief—you’re just out to get me!” With that thought in mind, Young Master Sima bowed his hand toward Wang Bang, then—without giving the rice noodle vendor any trouble—placed the money on the table and left. The rice noodle vendor finally breathed a slight sigh of relief. She collected the money, took the cloth from her waist to wipe down the table, and smiled, “The young master’s back. Six bowls again, right? Here you go.” “It seems Sima Xiaohua is putting a lot of pressure on you. What’s going on?” Wang Bang asked curiously. The noodle lady hesitated for a moment, then shook her head slightly, indicating it wasn’t a big deal. “Did he grab your butt?” Wang Bang asked. The rice noodle vendor silently cursed the kid for being a blockhead. Having her butt groped—what’s the big deal? Those roughnecks on West Street often come by to grope her too, and her way of dealing with them is just to slap them on the head and be done with it. “Don’t read too much into it, young master. It’s no big deal,” Mi Fen Niang said, shaking her head before walking away. Wang Bang fell silent. He pulled out his little abacus and clicked it a few times, calculating: I’ve collected protection money from her before; if I can’t settle this, it’ll damage my reputation as a man of honor. This time, he was fighting for honor, glory, and dignity. It wasn’t some shallow act like a hero rescuing a damsel in distress or a love triangle. So Wang Bang immediately came up with several plans to wage this battle for honor. Plan One was to organize a group of medical troublemakers to storm the Sima family’s pharmacy and ruin their reputation. Ugh. He glanced at Ma Jinsi, who was by his side serving as his top bodyguard, and realized this guy wasn’t cut out for that kind of thing. So, his second plan to fight for glory was this: capitalizing on Zhang Fangping’s current situation in Shuzhou, he would use Zhang Fangping to take out Sima Xiaohua once and for all. At this thought, he shook his head vigorously. Zhang Fangping was definitely someone who wouldn’t be easily manipulated; if he eventually saw through the scheme, life would become very difficult for him. Wang Bang leaned closer to Ma Jinsi and asked, “How often does Sima Xiaohua come here to eat rice noodles?” Ma Jinsi replied awkwardly, “Reporting to Young Master, he comes almost every day.” Wang Bang immediately laughed, “Old Ma, can you get your hands on some sleeping potion?” Ma Jinsi was still quite sharp; he had a vague idea of what kind of scheme this imaginative little rascal was hatching. In short, it was either to slip the drug into the beautiful rice noodle girl’s food or into Young Master Sima’s—it could only be one of those two options. Ma Jinsi wasn’t afraid to get into fights or collect protection money, but he had reservations about doing something that involved someone from the Sima family. So, putting on an air of loyalty and bravery, Ma Jinsi shook his head and said, “No, no, no. In this line of work, courage is what counts. I’ve always played by the book—I don’t have those kinds of connections.” Seeing Wang Bang pull out his abacus again, Ma Jinsi immediately changed his tune: “Actually… I know a couple of guys who have some channels to get it.” Ma Jinsi was deeply concerned; every time this delinquent fiddled with his abacus, someone was bound to suffer, so he had no choice but to give in. “How potent is the stuff? You’re not going to rip me off with some low-quality junk, are you?” Wang Bang asked with a sly grin. Ma Jinsi clasped his fists and whispered, “Those two guys make high-end stuff. They even mix in some poisonous mushroom powder. It won’t kill anyone, but the effects are very unique.” No sooner said than done, Old Ma decisively declared, “I’ll be right back.” Sure enough, he returned quickly, then quietly slipped a small porcelain vial into Wang Bang’s hand, giving him a “you know what I mean” look. Wang Bang had no intention of feeding it to Ma Jinsi for testing. After all, if it turned out to be ineffective, it would be considered a “counterfeit” product, and he could then find a reason to arrest the thugs selling fake medicine. If it worked, he’d still arrest the thug for selling “dangerous goods”—otherwise, if it became widespread, it would endanger many people. As Wang Bang was leaving, he glanced back at the rice noodle vendor. It was the dead of winter, and she was busy at work; white breath wafted from her mouth and nose, and the strands of hair falling across her forehead made her look both beautiful and content. To protect people like her, he would have to take down all the thugs, hooligans, and bandits in the land. However, this task is quite daunting. Even the future Wang Anshi would not be able to handle it well. The root of the problem lay in the Song Dynasty’s overly lenient and permissive system—one that even allowed people the “freedom” to act like thugs. This is no exaggeration—in this era, there were actually people who made a living by staging accidents to extort money. Historical records of the Song Dynasty show that some “litigation hooligans” made a living by filing lawsuits; there were indeed judicial thugs who submitted hundreds of petitions to the county magistrate’s office within a single month. This drove the county magistrate to the brink of despair. The root cause of these issues lies in the Song Dynasty’s bureaucratic system.