Chapter 38: The Magistrate Sends an Invitation

Faced with Chen Ping’s clear and guileless eyes, Magistrate Wang fell into a long contemplation. Given the current situation, why was it still so hard to set aside his pride? Magistrate Wang was by no means a pedant; on the contrary, he was one of the more enlightened officials.

After a while, a faint smile appeared on his face. He nodded at Chen Ping, having already devised a makeshift strategy. He laughed, "Since you are interested in this matter, why don't you be the one to receive Master Huang the Sixth?"

Without waiting for Chen Ping to decline, Magistrate Wang pressed his personal seal onto a slip of paper and issued the order, "Constable Zhao, take my invitation immediately and go to the Fuding Restaurant to invite Master Huang the Sixth to the county office for a chat!"

Instead of issuing an arrest warrant or a formal summons, using an invitation from the magistrate—while personally avoiding the encounter for the time being—was Magistrate Wang’s compromise.

Though he understood the magistrate’s intent, Chen Ping felt rather helpless. You may be comfortable, but having a seven-year-old child play host is going a bit too far. He turned to look at Master Ye for help, only to find the old scholar nodding gently.

"It is quite appropriate for you to meet him," Master Ye said. "Regardless of your age, you are my, Ye Wenchang’s, closed-door disciple—a scholar in the true sense. For my disciple to receive a merchant on behalf of the magistrate will not invite idle gossip."

Hearing Master Ye’s reasoning, Chen Ping finally grasped the logic. Indeed, while neither he nor Master Ye held prejudices against merchants, such personal views could not sway the prevailing sentiment. In the official world, one must be wary of what people say. If someone of Magistrate Wang’s or Master Ye’s status were to suddenly lower themselves to show favor to a merchant like Master Huang, rumors would undoubtedly spread.

Living in this era, one must respect its mainstream values. A tree that stands above the forest will surely be leveled by the wind, and those who are too unconventional will eventually be ostracized by society.

***

At Fuding Restaurant, Master Huang the Sixth wiped the sweat from his forehead once more. The back of his inner garment was soaked through, and the cloth in his hand was wrung damp. He glanced toward the door from time to time, ready to act at the slightest sign of trouble. If things went awry, he would have to flee without a moment’s hesitation.

He knew well that his recent actions had earned him the focused attention of the authorities. Recalling his recklessness over the past two days, he realized he had effectively been slapping Magistrate Wang in the face—and quite loudly at that. If not for his righteous indignation, his fear of impending financial loss, and the assurances of Assistant Magistrate Huang—who promised that no matter what happened, he would find a way to save his life and move his assets—Master Huang would never have dared to be so provocative.

Yet, even with the escape route promised by the assistant magistrate, he was terrified. It was not that Master Huang was cowardly; in fact, as a wealthy merchant who had built his fortune from scratch, he was a man of considerable means and courage. However, he understood better than anyone that no matter how bold or well-connected one might be, it was no match for the government.

"The commoner does not fight the official." This was a piece of advice forged through countless years of blood and tears; how could he not know it?

Just as Master Huang was trembling like a startled bird, Constable Zhao arrived at the entrance of Fuding Restaurant with several bailiffs. With a creak, the magnificent red-lacquered doors were pushed open.

Master Huang’s legs went weak, and a dull thud echoed from the back room. "Master, what has happened to you? Quick, call a physician!"

Holding the magistrate's invitation, Zhao Jin had just stepped into the restaurant when he heard the panicked cries of the servants. Looking over, he saw Master Huang with his eyes closed, his body sliding slowly down the wall to the floor.

Zhao Jin weighed the invitation in his hand and looked at the seemingly dying Master Huang with a touch of pity. *It is simply a lack of good fortune,* he thought. *A grand opportunity comes knocking at your door, and yet you are so shocked by it that you faint.*

Shaking his head, Zhao Jin said to a servant, "Since your master is unwell, I shall not disturb him further. When he recovers, please inform him that Magistrate Wang had sent an invitation for him."

As Zhao Jin turned to leave, a faint voice came from the floor. "Wait... wait! Who sent an invitation to whom? Explain yourself clearly!"

Fortunately, Zhao Jin was sharp-eared and heard the thread-thin voice perfectly. Looking back, he saw Master Huang, supported by his servants, trembling as he stood up. He was gazing at Zhao Jin with a look that clearly said, *Don't you dare try to trick me.*

Master Huang did not believe for a second that a dignified magistrate would send him an invitation. Even the assistant magistrate—a distant relative who took large sums of money from him every year—had never sent him a formal invitation or a visiting card. Usually, when there was something to discuss, he would send a secret letter or a trusted servant to deliver a message. That was all. Master Huang had never found this strange; everyone felt it was normal. In a society where scholars and merchants were strictly separated, this was how it should be.

Having seen many people in his time, Zhao Jin naturally understood Master Huang’s thoughts. Without wasting words, he handed the invitation over with both hands and smiled, "If Master Huang does not believe me, or does not wish to go, feel free to throw it away. Oh, I forgot to mention—the invitation bears Magistrate Wang’s personal seal."

Master Huang’s face twitched violently. He hesitated to reach out, as if the invitation were a hot potato, but his hands betrayed him and rose on their own. Upon receiving it, he felt the weight and texture of an official document. Unfolding it, the small red seal appeared dazzling, as if coated in gold.

It was this golden light that instantly cured all of Master Huang’s ailments and dispelled his anxiety, making him look radiant once again. As a constable, Zhao Jin could not—and would never dare to—forge the magistrate's personal seal. This meant the invitation was truly from Magistrate Wang!

Though he did not yet know what the magistrate was planning, Master Huang’s panic had vanished. Magistrate Wang was a civil official who had risen through the imperial examinations; he was a stickler for rules and protective of his reputation. Such a person, having sent an invitation, would certainly not resort to trickery or "courtesy before force." Otherwise, his reputation as a scholar—built over many years—would be damaged, and the loss would outweigh the gain.

Having reasoned this out, Master Huang regained his composure. He straightened his clothes, smoothed his sleeves, and respectfully accepted the invitation with both hands. After placing it safely in a sandalwood box, he asked with a smile, "My apologies to Constable Zhao and your men. Please, have some tea at my restaurant before we head to the county office, shall we?"

With his wits returned, Master Huang began to ponder. He still could not understand why the magistrate would invite him at such a time. Logically, as the cousin of the assistant magistrate, his relationship with Magistrate Wang was at best "the well water does not interfere with the river water." If the magistrate had discovered his recent activities, he should have sent men to arrest him, not an invitation.

Unable to fathom the reason, Master Huang set his sights on Zhao Jin, hoping to probe him for information so he could be prepared before meeting the magistrate. Zhao Jin, however, was no naive youth and saw right through Master Huang’s intentions.

He did not give Master Huang a chance to stall, asking straight to the point, "Master Huang, give me a straight answer. Are you coming, or not?"