Chapter Forty: A Misunderstanding

Gao Yao reached up and touched the noodles on top of his head, his lips quivering with rage. He didn’t need to guess; it was obvious that Jiang Pingchuan had taken the noodles and placed them there. Yet, the gentleman had clearly told him that after tonight, there would be no more Jiang Pingchuan in Sanjiang County, and he’d no longer need to torment the Zhou family with strange tricks.

With his identity as the county magistrate’s son, a simple, straightforward scheme would suffice to bring Zhou Ning’er into his mansion—then he could do as he pleased. Gao Yao, delighted by this prospect, had impatiently brought his men to Zhou Fu’s noodle shop this evening to wait for Zhou Ning’er’s return. When he saw Jiang Pingchuan, Gao Yao felt a twinge of doubt.

Still, he trusted his gentleman would not deceive him, and he didn’t consider Jiang Pingchuan particularly dangerous. So he merely gave him a cold glance. Aside from being somewhat more handsome, Jiang Pingchuan had nothing special about him. If it was about the jade pendant at his waist, Gao Yao’s own was much larger.

Gao Yao, still fuming, shook the noodles from his head with a stomp. The movement released all the soup, which quickly trickled down his neck and soaked him. He twisted his neck and fiddled with his folding fan, finding it impossible to get comfortable—the more he moved, the stickier he became.

“You little brat, just you wait! I’ll make you pay for this!” Gao Yao snarled viciously at Jiang Pingchuan. After his threat, he sucked up a noodle from his lips with exaggerated bravado, smirking at Jiang Pingchuan.

“Ugh, what is this? So salty!” Gao Yao chewed the noodle, and as soon as his teeth bit down, an overwhelming salty flavor flooded his mouth, making his eyes bulge and tears stream down his cheeks.

Jiang Pingchuan shook the salt jar in his hand. Gao Yao pointed his folding fan at Jiang Pingchuan, trembling for a long moment, unable to utter a word.

“Young Master Gao, don’t bark like a dog in the dead of night. Beware the ghosts, eh?” Jiang Pingchuan leaned against the counter, grinning as he watched Gao Yao. His attention, however, was on Xiao Wu, whose expression was rather complicated.

Just now, when Jiang Pingchuan picked up the noodles, he noticed Xiao Wu observing his movements, as if wanting to say something but holding back. This hesitation, Jiang Pingchuan realized, was not directed at him but rather at Gao Yao. Now he was certain that the mysterious eyes watching him belonged to Xiao Wu.

But what motive could Xiao Wu have to serve Gao Yao? Gao Yao was such a typical wastrel that it was difficult to connect him with the black-robed stranger. How could someone as shrewd as the black-robed man be associated with someone as foolish as Gao Yao? If Xiao Wu was Gao Yao’s informant, then who was the black-robed man’s informant?

Jiang Pingchuan glanced at Zhou Fu and his wife, then finally rested his gaze on Zhou Ning’er. Every person here had grounds for suspicion, but until he unraveled the truth, he could only take things one step at a time.

“Bah! You fools, let’s go!” Gao Yao, seeing his three burly men standing around dumbly as he was humiliated by Jiang Pingchuan, grew even angrier. He struck each of them on the head with his folding fan.

“Ow!” The three men, jolted by Gao Yao’s blows, suddenly snapped to attention. They threw uneasy glances at Jiang Pingchuan, who rubbed his fingers and coughed.

The three bailiffs, with a shudder, bolted out the door. Gao Yao’s face darkened even further as he walked to the entrance and turned to see Jiang Pingchuan still wearing an innocent smile.

“You little brat, we—”

“Young Master Gao, the green hills endure, the rivers flow long. When I come to call on you in the future, I hope you won’t turn me away,” Jiang Pingchuan interrupted, lifting the bowl of noodles from the counter.

Gao Yao swallowed hard, his thirst intensifying. Seeing the bowl in Jiang Pingchuan’s hand, he shivered, lips trembling as he muttered something under his breath.

“Bah, bah bah bah!” Gao Yao spat several times, turned with a humph, and strode out of the noodle shop.

“Take care, Young Master Gao. Walking late at night, beware of ghosts!” Jiang Pingchuan called from the doorway, watching as Gao Yao continued to kick and punch his hapless men.

“Bah! Ow… you—be careful!” Hearing Jiang Pingchuan’s words, Gao Yao spat again and promptly stumbled, falling flat on his face. He scrambled up, waving his folding fan over his men in another round of blows.

As Gao Yao and his companions vanished into the darkness, Jiang Pingchuan closed the shop door, noting the relief on everyone’s faces.

He smiled and walked over to Zhou Ning’er, patting her gently on the shoulder. Zhou Ning’er shook her head and mumbled something inaudible.

“All right, stop pretending. Didn’t you wake up long ago?” Jiang Pingchuan ruffled her hair. Noticing Zhou Fu and his wife’s peculiar looks, he realized he was being inappropriate and coughed twice.

“Oh, Brother Pingchuan, I was really just sleeping—how could I pretend?” Zhou Ning’er stood up, rubbing her sleepy eyes and glancing at her parents, who eyed her and Jiang Pingchuan strangely. Pouting in annoyance, her tone was filled with playful affection; Jiang Pingchuan shivered and coughed again.

“Ugh, I’m so tired—I want to sleep.” Seeing everyone stare at her, Zhou Ning’er pouted, walked up to Jiang Pingchuan, touched his hair, and gave a mischievous grin.

After hesitating, she took Jiang Pingchuan’s hand and placed it on her own head, giggling as she headed toward the inner hall. Jiang Pingchuan looked at everyone staring at him, shrugged, and wore an innocent expression.

“Pingchuan, what’s going on between you two?” Zhou Fu’s wife watched as Zhou Ning’er skipped into the inner hall, her face incredulous. She’d never seen her daughter act that way with any man.

She eyed Jiang Pingchuan like a mother wolf ready to pounce and nibble on him. Jiang Pingchuan swallowed hard.

It was all innocent, he thought to himself—touching her head wouldn’t lead to anything. But he didn’t dare say it aloud; after all, she was their daughter.

“It’s nothing, really—I think it’s fine,” Zhou Fu jumped in to smooth things over. Of course, it wasn’t much of a rescue; he simply believed his daughter would never suffer with Jiang Pingchuan.

Zhou Fu’s wife glared at him, and Zhou Fu awkwardly glanced at Jiang Pingchuan with a look that seemed to say, “Don’t worry, brother. We’re on the same side.”

I’ll help you win my daughter, just trust me, his expression seemed to promise. Jiang Pingchuan was bewildered by Zhou Fu’s odd behavior, watching him wink and gesture behind his wife’s back.

“Well, today Ning’er took me to the banks of the Pu Shui River, and she fell asleep. So I waited for her to wake up, and when she didn’t, I carried her back,” Jiang Pingchuan explained, giving a rough account of the day’s events. Hearing his story, Zhou Fu and his wife’s expressions grew even more animated.

Zhou Fu’s wife was furious, while Zhou Fu wore a smile, clearly approving of Jiang Pingchuan’s actions.

“Pingchuan, you silly boy—Ning’er fell asleep? What happened between you two? Oh, you youngsters never know your limits, honestly—” Zhou Fu’s wife was flustered at the thought of her daughter and Jiang Pingchuan sleeping by the riverside, launching into a barrage of scolding. Jiang Pingchuan was left stunned, staring blankly at her.

“All right, enough. Stop nagging. You’ve been talking all night—go to bed now,” Zhou Fu said, seeing Jiang Pingchuan’s bewildered look, and gently pushed his wife toward the inner hall, winking again at Jiang Pingchuan.

Zhou Fu’s wife muttered under her breath but eventually followed his lead. Zhou Fu paused beside Jiang Pingchuan, placed a hand on his shoulder, and clicked his tongue.

“Pingchuan, you’re still too young, too impulsive. Since it’s already happened, there’s nothing more to say. But next time, be careful—doing that in broad daylight by the riverside isn’t the best idea. There’s a guest room here, no need to go through such trouble, eh?” Zhou Fu raised his eyebrows with a knowing air. Jiang Pingchuan wondered if Zhou Ning’er was really his daughter, given how little seriousness Zhou Fu showed.

“Uncle Zhou, I accept your guidance,” Jiang Pingchuan bowed his head respectfully. Zhou Fu shook his hand, patting him with evident approval in his eyes.