18. How Can One Judge People by Their Appearance?

The cargo ship docked once again; by now, they had reached the territory of Hongdu Prefecture. They only needed to switch to a carriage for a day's journey before entering the city.

“They say in the old days, carriages and horses were slow, and one loved only one person for a lifetime. Damn it, the carriages were indeed slow, but as for loving just one person, it’s as many as it is,” Xia Lin complained, sitting in the stifling carriage. “In the future, no matter what, I must pave this asphalt road. Since everyone loves as many as they want, why not make the carriages faster so I can love more people?”

Old Zhang, having long been accustomed to Xia Lin’s wild remarks, had become infected by them. Yet the scholar traveling with them found Xia Lin quite amusing during the day’s journey. From his mouth always sprang some shocking, even arrogant, statements.

“Tone it down a bit. We’re here to collect debts,” Old Zhang advised with a mature expression. “A scoundrel must have the awareness of being one; don’t hold your head so high.”

“Sigh…” Xia Lin sighed. “Yeah, but I’m just a scoundrel.”

At this, the scholar finally couldn’t hold back his curiosity. “May I ask, what exactly does ‘scoundrel’ mean?”

“That was his invention,” Old Zhang pointed at Xia Lin. “He always comes up with new words; just use them and don’t question the details.”

Xia Lin nodded. “Scoundrel is a dialect from my region. It comes from a story about a man whose wife was unfaithful with another. Instead of reporting to the authorities or divorcing her, he confronted the man and said, ‘I know about your dealings with my wife; you owe me three silver coins.’ From then on, the man paid him three coins every time they met secretly. Occasionally, the man would give him an old turtle to nourish his health. Since the man’s home was in the third district, people nicknamed him ‘Turtle Three,’ which gradually morphed into ‘scrawny three’ or ‘scoundrel.’ It describes someone cowardly, useless, a waste. Old Zhang and I are nothing but scoundrels now, so we just keep our heads down. That’s the meaning of ‘scoundrel.’”

“Hahaha… Brother Xia, you’re really entertaining. By the way, if you ever find yourselves truly desperate, you can come find me in Qiantang.”

Xia Lin waved a hand. “Ah, big brother, we don’t even know your name. How would we find you?”

“Oh, right. How careless of me. I am Chu Suiliang from the Chu family of Qiantang, Henan. You can just ask for me by name. I see you two are well-educated. My father oversees the Hongwen Academy at court. The government is now keen on compiling literature. If you two are truly out of options, I can recommend you for literary work. It’s hard labor but at least you won’t lack food or clothing.”

“Oh, Chu… Chu Suiliang? You’re Chu Suiliang?”

“Hmm? Brother… you know me?”

Xia Lin made a few dry coughs and smiled faintly. “No, no, just joking. It’s a custom back home to call out loudly in surprise even to strangers. It makes one feel more renowned and comfortable, much better than polite greetings like ‘I’ve long admired you.’”

“Hahaha!” Chu Suiliang laughed heartily. “Alright, brother, I’ll remember that trick.”

Xia Lin looked at him smiling, but inside his lips felt dry. Who was Chu Suiliang? The Tang Dynasty’s Taizong era was full of renowned ministers, but there were only two guardians appointed to raise the heir—one was Changsun Wuji, the other was Chu Suiliang.

No need to elaborate too much—it suffices to say he was one of the “Four Great Masters of Early Tang,” alongside Ouyang Xun, Yu Shinan, and Xue Ji. He was also a guardian to Li Shimin, the Tang Taizong. Even during Wu Zetian’s reign, who dared only demote him slightly, after the Shenlong coup, he was posthumously rehabilitated, given the honorary title “Wenzhong,” worshipped in the Tang Gaozong temple, and promoted to Grand Marshal.

That alone showed how formidable he was. Although the current setting was after the fall of the Tang, the court remained the court, and such powerful figures would still emerge.

Fortunately, the Chu Suiliang Xia Lin met was a naive and innocent scholar. Had it been the chancellor Chu Suiliang, he would never have dared to speak so recklessly.

Still, calling Chu Suiliang ‘brother’ felt subtly awkward.

Before Xia Lin could dwell on this further, the carriage rolled into the city by dusk. Chu Suiliang naturally invited them to the local fellow-townsmen association, but Xia Lin politely declined. He had important matters to attend to: not just collecting money but also reporting population, geography, and hydrology data to the prefectural office the next day. There was much to be done.

After a restless night at a modest inn, they went to the prefectural office early the next morning. After identifying themselves, they met with the registrar. Upon hearing they wanted money, he mocked them mercilessly.

“A village headman traveling across mountains and rivers to ask the prefectural office for two thousand taels of silver? Don’t you have a county magistrate? If every little matter had to be handled by the prefecture, it would become a marketplace! I’ll overlook your presumption since you’re young, but come back when your county magistrate is here.”

“No, our village was just split from Poyang County and is directly under the prefecture. We don’t have a county office,” Xia Lin patiently explained. “Two thousand taels isn’t much. Please approve it for the sake of the villagers.”

“Look at you. What good is pity? I’m following imperial regulations. If I approve this, I won’t keep my own head. Go away, don’t waste my time.”

Xia Lin refused to leave. Eventually, as a government official, he was forcibly dragged out by the prefectural guards and tossed aside like a rag.

He stood, hands on hips, staring at the imposing prefectural office. He wasn’t angry—getting angry when powerless was like falling in love with a remarkable woman when utterly incapable: useless and only inviting ridicule.

“What now?” Old Zhang dusted himself off. “I say, you, an official, are really pathetic.”

“A scoundrel, after all,” Xia Lin said helplessly, spreading his hands.

“So what now?”

“What now? I’ll deal with him! If he throws me out, I’ll parade him through the streets. Forget the saying ‘a gentleman’s revenge is never late,’ I’ll have him dealt with within three days!”

Without further ado, Xia Lin went to a butcher and bought half a jin of fresh pig’s blood. Holding his breath against the metallic stench, he dipped his fingers into the blood and began writing on a large white cloth.

“What are you doing?” Old Zhang leaned in. “Menglang… what’s this?”

As he read further, he found a vivid little story unfolding, sharply portraying the faces of corrupt officials and wolfish functionaries with such depth it was worthy of applause.

Once finished, Xia Lin wiped his nose and returned to the prefectural office entrance. He spread the white cloth on the ground, placed his village headman’s identification upon it, and knelt behind the cloth without a word.

He even chose the spot carefully—under a tree’s shade, out of the sun, with a gentle breeze providing some relief.

“Old Zhang, go buy some sour plum juice. Feed me a few sips when no one’s looking.”

Thus, he set up his stall. As the sun climbed higher and the crowd grew, curious onlookers gathered. The story was biting, and the fact it came from a humble official made it all the more intriguing.

As more people stopped to read, many began to grasp the deeper meaning and started discussing it. Their loud chatter soon caught the attention of the prefectural office staff. Yet, faced with such a crowd, they dared not disperse them outright.

Only when Governor Guo Minghuai arrived did the crowd thin.

Guo approached, brows furrowed upon reading the scathing article, and asked, “What are you trying to do here?”

Though Xia Lin didn’t know the man, his tone and bearing spoke of great status. Seizing the moment, Xia Lin took a deep breath and began.

“I am the village headman of Xinping Village. Originally, it had 1,500 households, now barely over 900 remain. No young men remain, farmlands lie fallow, trade routes are blocked. I see the elderly have no support and children no care, and I am anxious. I planned to build workshops and a dock by the mountains and river, but since our village split from Poyang County, we’ve received no funds. Even the wages for village clerks come from my own pocket. Without funds, building workshops and docks is impossible. So I traveled across mountains and rivers to the prefecture, seeking funds to save the people. Yet the officials told me to seek the county, but we have no county. I explained this endlessly but to no avail, and they threw me out.”

At this, Xia Lin stood and showed the crowd the ragged hole in his trousers from being thrown on the ground. Though crude, the sight moved the people deeply.

“I’m not here to complain. The prefecture claims to act by royal law, so I cannot fault them. But feeling frustrated, I wrote a little piece to vent my anger.”

Governor Guo pursed his lips. “Why kneel here?”

“Shame before the villagers, no face to face the elders and children of Changjiang.”

Brilliant! Old Zhang secretly gave Xia Lin a thumbs-up. His talent for speaking off the cuff was truly exceptional, and it made perfect sense.

“Come with me,” Governor Guo said coldly, hands behind his back, and entered the prefectural office. Xia Lin picked up his identification and hurried after him.

Whether intentionally or not, Xia Lin left the scathing story pinned there for passersby to read at leisure.