Chapter 71: Old Hu, You Really Resemble Lü Boshe Now

Winter Flower was settled in the room. Although Physician Du could be considered a trustworthy ally for the time being, it was still unwise to shelter Luo Gan there, lest word leak out—especially to the servants in the household, who should know as little as possible. Returning to the Bamboo Grove Grand Guild was out of the question, and Tiger Roost Pavilion was equally off-limits. After all, Little Zhi had gone in, and Luo Gan had yet to decide how to explain this to Bamboo Zhang and Han Chong.

He lifted his eyes to the heavens, where the stars shimmered, sometimes twinkling like wanderers longing for a safe haven, a place to rest in peace. Only now did Luo Gan realize that, free from the burdens of work and social obligations, stepping into another kind of life did not mean the freedom he’d once imagined. In the midst of constant flight and toil, he found himself yearning for the routine of office life. It was much like the red and white roses: whichever one he held, he would always miss the other, caught in a cycle of endless longing and indecision.

Unconsciously, Luo Gan wandered back to Manager Hu’s house. He hesitated at the door, unsure whether to knock so late at night for fear of disturbing them. In his indecision, he accidentally brushed against the door, which swung open—it had been left ajar, and within, a lamp glowed in one of the rooms, as if it had been left burning just for him, flickering in welcome.

The next time he was aware of himself, it was already morning. He awoke lying on a bed in Old Hu’s house, a hot breakfast prepared at his side, filling him with warmth.

Outside, the sound of a blade being sharpened rang out, sending a jolt of fear through Luo Gan. He was defenseless, and if something were to happen, he would have no way to resist. Pulling aside the door curtain, he saw it was only Old Hu sharpening his kitchen knives, his face stern and entirely unlike his usual amiable self.

Luo Gan stepped outside and greeted Old Hu, who instantly broke into a smile.

“You’re up, brother? Have you had breakfast yet?”

Luo Gan shook his head, having just woken to the clatter and not yet had time to eat.

“Not yet. You’re up so early, Old Hu.”

“Of course. I have to keep the knives sharp—soon it’ll be time to prepare for the festival offerings.”

But in Luo Gan’s mind, the scene that arose was far from harmonious. Instead, he recalled the old tale of Cao Cao slaughtering the Lü Boshe family. Two fugitives, seeking refuge, hid in Lü’s house. When the family began sharpening knives to slaughter a pig for their guests, Cao Cao, suspecting treachery, murdered them all.

Back in school, Luo Gan had thought Cao Cao a ruthless, unscrupulous man, unable to distinguish good from evil, mistaking friend for foe. But now, hearing the scrape of Hu’s knives in the night, the story felt different. As a fugitive himself, nerves frayed and fragile, danger lurking everywhere, how could he know who might betray him or if he would live to see another dawn? In such a world, were there truly good men or bad men? Lü Boshe’s family only seemed good in hindsight. Though Luo Gan was no Cao Cao and trusted Manager Hu, his mind could not help but conjure images of betrayal—a knife flashing in the dark, and everything changing in an instant. Sometimes, betrayal needed only a single moment, without warning or preamble.

With these thoughts, Luo Gan found his breakfast tasteless. Suspicion had crept in between them, making it impossible to act freely and boldly; instead, restraint and caution seemed the only way to avoid disaster.

“Shall we go buy some wine this morning? We can prepare a few dishes for tonight.”

“Haha, no need for all that trouble. I’m already imposing on you, Old Hu—when this is over, I’ll find a way to repay you.” Luo Gan forced a laugh, promising a future favor, and watched for Hu’s reaction.

Old Hu’s expression dimmed at once.

“Repay me? I’m not after your money. Once you’re free, how about we visit the next city? I’ve heard there are some lovely girls there…” His tone turned roguish and suggestive, the greasy humor of a middle-aged man unmistakable.

“Deal! It’s settled,” Luo Gan agreed without hesitation.

Inside Tiger Roost Pavilion, the air buzzed with voices. Han Chong, still in his official’s uniform, burst into the kitchen waving a sheet of paper. Old Lin tried to stop him, but Han Chong, in his fury, shoved him aside and strode straight to Bamboo Zhang.

“It’s been two days and there’s still no sign of my brother!”

“Is that all? Come now, Han, you must calm down. If you frighten my staff, how are we to work?” Bamboo Zhang found Han Chong’s intrusion ill-timed, disturbing their routine.

“Staff?” Han Chong glanced around—cooks, kitchen hands, each busy at their station, casting him sidelong looks of annoyance.

“You call all these people ‘brothers,’ but you care nothing for your real brother?” Han Chong roared, a tiger ready to pounce, his anger a show of force.

Knowing Han Chong’s temper was unstoppable once roused, Bamboo Zhang led him aside, removing his outer robe as they walked.

“No need to worry, Han. It’s only been two days. Little Zhi is of age now—maybe he’s off chasing after some young beauties.” Bamboo Zhang spoke with deliberate exaggeration, making light of Little Zhi’s absence.

“If he were out womanizing, I’d be pleased as his brother, but he hasn’t got the nerve.” Han Chong was unshakable; no one knew his brother better than he did.

Bamboo Zhang fell silent, pondering how to ease the tension between them.

“I heard yesterday that the authorities arrested several men who broke into the Sima residence at night. One of them was called Little Zhi, caught among a group of peasants.”

“Peasants?” Bamboo Zhang tried to recall if the three of them had any disputes with farmers and worried some creditor might be seeking revenge.

“Haha! Han, you must be mistaken. Why would we have dealings with peasants? Use your head—it can’t be our Little Zhi!”

“But today I have proof. The whole town is plastered with wanted posters for Luo Gan!” Han Chong thrust the notice at Bamboo Zhang. Sure enough, the portrait was unmistakably Luo Gan.

Bamboo Zhang immediately realized the situation was serious.

“Ah… it’s my fault. I always warned Little Zhi not to get too close to Luo Gan—trouble would surely follow. What you fear is often what comes to pass.” His expression was full of regret, but it was more for Han Chong’s benefit, to cast suspicion on Luo Gan.

“What good does talk do us now? The urgent thing is to rescue Little Zhi!” Han Chong was beside himself. To be arrested by a corrupt magistrate for breaking into a private house—what fate could await him? And the Sima residence was guarded by special officials. Why would Little Zhi, who avoided brothels, risk sneaking into that place? Frustration clouded Han Chong’s mind.

“Why don’t we confront Luo Gan directly? He’s behind all of this.” Bamboo Zhang continued to fan the flames, urging Han Chong to seek out Luo Gan.

Han Chong sighed deeply and nodded. The two of them left Tiger Roost Pavilion together.