Chapter 77: Encounter

While listening to the flattering voices around her, Zhou Qing hummed "Little Jumping Frog" as she crafted five peonies of various sizes and expressions.

After finishing the flowers, she proceeded to attach them to the prepared flower branches. 

Zhou Qing carefully selected a stick with multiple offshoots and wrapped it with brown and green silk to form the flower branch.

She inserted the flower branch into a pot and used dark green silk to fasten the leaves to it. The silk peonies instantly came to life, looking incredibly vivid and lifelike.

The third household family stared in awe at the pot full of peonies.

"Qing, your craftsmanship is outstanding!"

"Yes, Qing, I didn’t know you could make them so beautifully!" said Zhou Yao, stepping forward and taking a deep breath as if to smell them.

"Big sister, if only they had a bit of fragrance, that would be perfect."

Zhou Qing nodded and smiled. "Hmm, they just need some fragrance, but that's not urgent."

"Qing, these flowers are so beautiful, and the silk is so expensive. This pot must sell for at least ten taels of silver!" Zhou Huailin said, staring at the silk flowers without blinking and rubbing his chin.

"Third Uncle, ten taels would be unfair for the effort I put into this. This pot is worth at least thirty taels!"

While shopping today, she had taken note that no one in the entire Qinghe County was selling silk flowers. She was the only one.

Upon hearing the price, Zhao's eyes widened.

"Thirty taels? Who could afford that?"

Zhou Qing just smiled. "Third Aunt, flowers like these are naturally for wealthy families."

Zhou Ping chimed in, "Mother, my second uncle can sell a cricket cage for twenty taels. These flowers for thirty taels? They’d be snatched up in no time! The people in the county are different from us."

As he spoke, Zhou Ping turned to look at Shen Li.

See? There sits someone who buys two and gets one free!

What did that look mean? Does he think I’m rich and foolish?

With a twitch at the corner of his eye, Shen Li looked at Zhou Qing.

"Such a pot of silk flowers should go for at least fifty taels. Anything less, and you're selling your talent short."

See? What did I tell you!

Zhou Qing’s suggestion of thirty taels had already shocked Zhao. She hadn’t expected Shen Li to say fifty taels!

Fifty taels!!!

Zhao’s mouth hung slightly open as she stared at the peonies, as if looking at a money tree.

"Qing, hurry and teach me how to make these!"

"Big sister, please teach me too."

"Qing, your third uncle may not be good at crafting flowers, but I can handle the sticks."

"Dear daughter, tomorrow I’ll join you in making silk flowers," said Zhou Huaishan.

Zhou Qing turned her head and looked at Zhou Huaishan with a sigh.

"Tomorrow, Father, you start studying!"

Zhou Huaishan immediately sighed with sorrow, his face full of reluctance as he gazed at Zhou Qing.

"My dear daughter, you’ll all be busy making money, and I’ll be no help at all. How can I not feel bad?"

Zhou Qing rolled her eyes. "Father, if you really feel bad, then aim to become the top scholar and take us all to the capital for a luxurious life!"

Zhou Ping hugged Zhou Huaishan tightly. 

"Second Uncle, all the fine food and luxury are counting on you! Good luck!"

Do I look spicy and luxurious to you?

Since Zhou Huaishan had to start studying tomorrow, the family dispersed after chatting for a while, leaving Zhou Huaishan with a sad look after everyone else had gone.

"Daughter, can I take another day off tomorrow?"

Zhou Qing didn’t respond to his question. Instead, she asked, "Do you know what happened when I went to the county today?"

Zhou Huaishan, feeling hopeless, asked, "What happened?"

What could be worse than him having to start studying tomorrow?

Zhou Qing then told him about her encounter with Zhou Huaihai and what Xu Feng, the shopkeeper of Yunhai Bookstore, had said.

She left out the words of the county magistrate and Zhao Dacheng.

"Now that Zhou Yuan has secured a position in the Jingwei Battalion in the capital, if you don’t achieve a high rank, with Zhou Huaihai’s nature, do you think he’ll let you live peacefully? How many more years do you think you’ll live?"

Zhou Huaishan’s eyes went wide.

He used to think studying was torture, but now, not studying might be life-threatening?

His lips twitched. "The Jingwei Battalion isn’t exactly a prestigious post."

Zhou Qing responded, "If you were still the Marquis of Rongyang, the Jingwei Battalion would indeed be beneath you. But now, you're just a farmer. If he wants to crush you, it would be as easy as snapping a twig!"

Zhou Huaishan was nearly in tears.

How had his life become so full of misfortune?

"Dear daughter, isn’t there any other way?"

Zhou Qing shook her head. 

"No, unless you rise above, or else you’ll just have to wait for Zhou Huaihai’s revenge."

With that, she left Zhou Huaishan lying on the bed, drowning in sorrow.

When Zhou Qing stepped outside, Shen Li was in the courtyard teaching Zhou Ping how to stand in a horse stance. 

Zhou Ping, eager to learn martial arts from Shen Li, was starting with the basics, practicing the stance for half a stick of incense both morning and evening.

Although he was only five years old, Zhou Ping was standing there, arms raised, gritting his teeth and pushing through the pain.

Shen Li turned to Zhou Qing. "Don’t worry. Master will do fine in the provincial exam."

Zhou Qing smiled bitterly. "Even the best teacher can’t overcome a lazy student."

Shen Li laughed. "Master is clever. If he could get first place in the county exam, even if he doesn’t take the top spot in the provincial one, he should still pass. You need to have faith in him."

Zhou Qing sighed.

"Forget it. I’d rather trust your 'Five Years of College Entrance Exams and Three Years of Simulations' than him!"

"Huh? Five years of what?"

Zhou Qing waved her hand and chuckled. "I trust you!"

Shen Li’s ears flushed red.

Luckily, it was nighttime, so no one noticed. His eyes full of affection, he gazed at Zhou Qing. "Hmm, trust me."

Time flew by, and two days before the Festival of Buddha, Zhou Qing loaded two large flower pots, several small bouquets, and some potted plants onto a mule cart. She covered them with thick oilcloth and, together with Zhou Huailin, headed to town.

"Qing, do you think the monks at Qingquan Temple will buy our flowers? The weather’s been great these past few days. They could easily use their own flowers."

Zhou Huailin sounded worried. 

The house was now full of silk flowers, and if they couldn’t sell them...

Zhou Qing looked up at the clear blue sky.

"Let’s give it a shot," she said, though not confidently.

But fortune favors the bold.

Without trying, they’d never succeed.

So, they headed straight for Qingquan Temple.

Meanwhile, in the county town.

After a month of recovery, Zhou Huaihai was finally able to sit up and talk.

Early in the morning, a letter arrived from Zhou Yuan in the capital. 

He urgently needed several pots of high-quality dark chrysanthemums to give as gifts to his superiors. Since he couldn’t find suitable ones in the capital, he asked Zhou Huaihai to procure some from Qingquan Temple.

Along with the letter were two silver notes, each worth a thousand taels.

After reading the letter, Old Zhou frowned.

"The Qingquan Temple does have dark chrysanthemums, but I heard from Sun Zenian that there are only three pots, and they’re all reserved for the Festival of Buddha."

Since being infuriated to the point of spitting blood by Zhou Qing, Old Zhou’s health had been in decline.

No amount of medicinal soup seemed to help, and the doctor eventually suggested he spend more time in the mountains, listening to Buddhist chants, as it might aid his recovery.

Lately, Old Zhou had often invited Sun Zenian to visit Qingquan Temple with him.

Over time, it really had restored some of his vitality.

"But the Festival of Buddha lasts for three days. In that time, the flowers might wither or get damaged."

"Yes, and it’s at least a three-to-five-day journey from here to the capital. Who knows what might happen along the way..."

Before Wang could finish her thought, Zhou Huaihai cut her off.

"The journey is not a concern. We can hire a guarded carriage to deliver the chrysanthemums to the capital. What Mother said is more pressing—during the festival, the flowers might get ruined."

With that, Zhou Huaihai shifted his body slightly.

"Let’s go to Qingquan Temple now and see if we can negotiate with the monks to buy a pot."

No sooner said than done.

Father and son set out on sedan chairs.

Since Zhou Huaihai was still recovering, two guards helped him out of the sedan chair when they reached the temple gate.

"Master, look, isn’t that Zhou Qing?"

As they were entering the main gate of the temple, one of the guards pointed to someone ahead.

Following the guard's finger, Zhou Huaihai looked over.

In front, Zhou Qing and Zhou Huailin were standing there, talking. Whatever they were discussing, both had smiles on their faces.

Zhou Huaihai’s expression darkened instantly.

"What are those two here for?" Old Zhou asked the guest monk beside him.

Because Old Zhou often came to Qingquan Temple to listen to Buddhist teachings, the guest monk pressed his palms together and gave a respectful Buddhist greeting.

"They’re here to sell flowers. They’re waiting for the senior monk to invite the abbot."

Sell flowers?

Old Zhou and Zhou Huaihai exchanged a glance.

"Father," Zhou Huaihai pulled Old Zhou aside, "this might be our chance to get that piece of paper back."

Old Zhou's eyelid twitched as he looked at Zhou Huaihai.

Zhou Huaihai leaned in and whispered a few words.

Old Zhou immediately refused. "No, that won’t work—"

Before Old Zhou could finish speaking, Zhou Huaihai interrupted, "Father, have you forgotten how you coughed up blood? Have you forgotten how I was beaten? Besides, there’s no guarantee that Qingquan Temple will even sell those ink chrysanthemums!"

Old Zhou's mind became a whirlwind of confusion.

With a darkened expression, he hesitated for quite a while before finally closing his eyes and sighing deeply, "Fine, let’s risk it. What do we have to lose?"

"Don’t worry, Father. I’m not someone who disregards family ties!"

Zhou Huaihai turned and pointed to one of the guards, giving him a few quiet instructions. The guard, having received his orders, turned and entered the temple.

Once the guard had left, Old Zhou took a deep breath and walked toward Zhou Huailin.

"Lin?"

Zhou Huailin and Zhou Qing were in the middle of their conversation when they suddenly heard someone call out. Following the voice, Zhou Huailin turned around and saw Old Zhou.

"Father?!" Zhou Huailin’s face was filled with shock.

Old Zhou, however, was full of joyful surprise. "It’s really you, Lin."

Seeing Old Zhou like this, Zhou Huailin felt a surge of emotion, and he stepped forward to meet him.

Old Zhou grabbed Zhou Huailin’s hand and patted the back of it a few times, tears immediately streaming down his face.

"Lin, Father has missed you."

What Old Zhou said wasn’t a lie.

And those tears weren’t fake either.

After all, this was his biological son. Not missing him would have been the real lie.

As Old Zhou cried, Zhou Huailin became a bit flustered.

"Father, don’t cry, don’t cry. I’m fine, aren’t I?"

Old Zhou looked at Zhou Huailin, laughing and crying at the same time. "Yes, you’re fine, you’re fine. It’s Father who’s been at fault. No more crying, no more crying. Why are you here? Can we talk for a bit?"