Chapter 14

“Knock, knock, knock!”

Along with the sound of knocking, the urging voice of the chief steward, Cao Shunxin, came from outside:

“What are you all doing inside? Isn’t it time to check in? Waiting to have your pay docked?”

Only then did everyone realize it was time. Like a swarm, they rushed out to check in.

They lined up in the courtyard in front of the west building. Cao Shunxin held the employee roster and called out names one by one.

“Liao Chunhua!”

“Present!”

“Lv Xiaoniang!”

“Here!”

“...”

“Yang Manniang!”

“Here!”

Yang Manniang wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but she felt Cao Shunxin’s gaze linger on her for several seconds before moving on.

The west building, including the deputy steward, had a total of forty-four people. That day, a porter responsible for moving goods was late and docked five wen.

Cao Shunxin furrowed his brows, his tone serious:

“Last night, at table nineteen on the first floor, some peddlers caused trouble. How did Yang Sanyuan, the steward, handle it? And the maid serving table nineteen—how did she attend to the guests? If these peddlers were unwelcome, why weren’t they driven away?”

These peddlers were somewhat like hawkers—groups who came to the tavern to sell goods to guests. However, hawkers were more polite: if the guest didn’t want to buy, they would simply leave without forcing a sale.

Peddlers, on the other hand, were a group of miscellaneous people from society who clung to guests like stubborn patches. Regardless of whether the guest wished to buy, they would forcibly place their wares on the table and wouldn’t leave if the guest refused to buy, causing annoyance. Most customers dining at the tavern were respectable people who disliked quarrels over small sums.

Thus, if the tavern staff did not intervene, most guests would grumble but buy something just to get rid of the peddlers.

This was an unavoidable matter.

Most large taverns had such peddlers in the main hall. Though somewhat irritating, it was a matter of survival. With all walks of life gathering, the tavern offered more complete services.

Therefore, even a place like this tavern wouldn’t simply chase all of them away outright.

Usually, if guests expressed dislike, the steward and the maids would step in to drive them off.

So, although Cao Shunxin’s words sounded strict, they were mostly for show.

He only reprimanded steward Yang Sanyuan and the maid on duty at table nineteen with a few words, without imposing a fine.

Then he shifted the topic meaningfully:

“The weather’s gotten colder recently, and some people’s tempers have flared. Regardless of your private relationships, there must be no quarrels or fights among the staff while working in the west building. If guests witness any dissatisfaction, the consequences need no explanation. Alright, Yang Manniang, stay behind; the rest, get to your posts and work well!”

Under Lv Xiaoniang’s worried gaze, Yang Manniang remained.

She suspected Cao Shunxin wanted to speak to her alone. After all, the earlier words were clearly aimed at her and Wang Qiaoniang.

Unexpectedly, Cao Shunxin’s tone softened as he directly assigned her tasks:

“Miao Cui’er has fallen ill recently. You’ll cover her duties and take care of the third floor. Currently, there’s only one permanent guest at the Wangshu Pavilion on the third floor. This guest is of noble status and must not be neglected under any circumstances. Daily cleaning is handled by designated staff, but you’re responsible for the lighting inside and outside the private rooms, as well as dusting the rooms. Also, if the guest has any errands for the runners, you must attend to them diligently. If you cannot handle something, report to me immediately. Remember, serve the guest well.”

“Uh... okay, but who is the guest?” Yang Manniang blinked in surprise but nodded in agreement.

She hadn’t expected that the dispute from the morning would suddenly land this responsibility on her.

Cao Shunxin had originally intended not to mention it, but seeing Yang Manniang’s bewildered expression, fearing she might be careless in serving the guest, he lowered his voice:

“It’s the Seven-Star Commander.”

Then, worried, he reminded her:

“Remember, serve well on the third floor. Don’t ask unnecessary questions or pry where you shouldn’t, or we’ll all be in trouble.”

Upon hearing this, Yang Manniang immediately recalled what Lv Xiaoniang had told her about this commander and felt a tightening in her chest.

She obediently promised:

“I will do my best, chief steward.”

“All right, go work now!”

“Yes!”

Yang Manniang took a few steps, then, recalling earlier events, anxiously turned back to ask:

“Chief steward, don’t you blame me for the quarrel just now?”

After all, Cao Shunxin had warned against arguing in the tavern under threat of consequences.

Cao Shunxin seemed to have anticipated this question and showed no surprise, stroking the short beard on his chin.

He smiled faintly:

“Heh, sometimes a little sharpness is no bad thing when you’re out working.”

Yang Manniang tidied her appearance and ascended the stairs to the third floor.

In this tavern, maids from higher floors could go down to lower floors, but those from lower floors were forbidden from wandering up.

After all, the higher the floor, the more prestigious the guests, and they must not be disturbed casually.

For safety, strangers were not permitted close access.

This was Yang Manniang’s first time on the third floor of the west building.

Her first impression was how high it was.

Her second was how vast.

The height was notable because, in this era’s Bianjing city, considering architectural standards and the palace’s security, no building exceeded two stories except for the palace’s Star-Seizing Tower and the Great Prime Minister’s Temple’s Relic Pagoda.

Thus, standing on the flying corridor of the third floor allowed a broad view, nearly overlooking half of Bianjing.

The vastness was due to the floor’s nearly three-hundred-meter width, divided into just two private rooms: Wangshu Pavilion and Zhanlu Residence.

One could imagine the immense size of each room.

Opposite the west building was the inner palace courtyard, off-limits to ordinary people’s gaze.

Perhaps Yang Manniang’s stare lingered too long, for the soldiers at the Wangshu Pavilion’s entrance, two tall men dressed identically in white robes with black patterned cloaks, matching leather waistbands and wrist guards, and polished black riding boots, cast wary glances her way.

Seeing this, Yang Manniang quickly withdrew her gaze, stepped forward, and performed a respectful bow, introducing herself:

“Brothers, the original maid Miao Cui’er is ill. I’m the new maid.”

“Hmm, the steward said your name is Yang Manniang, right?” The taller soldier returned the salute, verifying her identity.

“Yes, I am Yang Manniang.”

“Go in, just clean normally. But don’t touch anything on the tables.”

“I understand. Thank you both.”

Yang Manniang smiled in gratitude.

The tall soldier’s face reddened slightly, waving her inside.

“Go on in!”

The private rooms on the third floor were nominally just private rooms but differed from those on the second floor.

The second floor’s rooms were primarily for dining and entertainment, but the third floor’s were larger and served multiple functions, including dining rooms, living rooms, studies, bedrooms, and tea rooms.

A delicate, exquisite sandalwood Eight Immortals table exuded an elegant and refined air.

A smooth, intricate rosewood screen seemed imbued with a millennium of wisdom.

In the living and study rooms, symmetrical layouts cleverly emphasized spatial layering and beauty through furniture and décor.

On the main wall hung Yan Su’s “Snow Accumulated on the Mountain Pass,” likely an original.

The entire room was simply yet finely arranged—light and refined—but every detail revealed exquisite taste and careful selection of materials.

Low-key luxury.

The room was extremely quiet.

Yang Manniang saw no sign of the owner and suspected they had not yet risen.

She instinctively stepped lightly.

Since dedicated staff cleaned daily, the room was already very tidy, but Yang Manniang responsibly took a clean cloth dipped in lotus dew water to carefully dust every surface.

The dining, living, and tea rooms showed almost no signs of use—no personal belongings at all.

Had it not been for the study table, where a large plate of fried broad beans, an ink paste box, and several stacks of documents were arranged, she might have doubted Cao Shunxin’s claim that anyone even lived here.

Remembering the guard’s instructions, she did not disturb the items on the table but simply wiped down the corners with the lotus dew-dampened cloth, leaving the objects untouched.

The bookshelf by the window held few books.

As she dusted, she glanced at the titles:

"The Art of War" by Sun Tzu, "Military Treatise" by Sima, "Wuzi’s Military Strategies," "Six Secret Teachings," "Three Strategies," "Shi Gong’s Three Strategies," and "Li Weigong's Q&A."

All were military classics.

Judging by the worn, faded edges, these books were clearly frequently read.

Yang Manniang recalled the fearful reverence others showed when mentioning Commander Fu Jingguang.

Could he really be the one reading these?

This thought passed quickly, and she set it aside.

After cleaning the study’s white jade and purple clay lamp stand and replacing the candle, only the bedroom remained.

“Knock, knock, knock!”

She carefully knocked on the bedroom door.

After a moment, there was no response.

“Sorry to bother you.”

Yang Manniang cautiously pushed the door open and found the room empty.

Yet it was neat and orderly.

The light blue curtains on the canopy bed were drawn up, and the bedding was neatly folded.

On the nearby yellow rosewood desk lay a half-read copy of “Wei Liaozi.”

Yang Manniang breathed a sigh of relief, entered the room, and quickly wiped the window, headboard, and desk with a towel soaked in lotus dew water.

She then stepped out, refilled a basin with fresh water, and cleaned the lanterns in the third-floor corridor and the flying corridor connecting the east and west buildings.

It was then time for lunch.

Today’s meal was glutinous rice.

Its sticky but non-greasy texture was beloved by the common people of the Song dynasty and was among the most common meals for ordinary townsfolk.

The preparation was simple: soak the glutinous rice overnight, steam it until soft, then season with salt, oil, Sichuan peppercorn, minced ginger, and scallions—a delicious dish.

Yang Manniang fetched a bamboo cup of water, carried her bowl, and sat in her usual spot.

Soon after, Lv Xiaoniang arrived, somewhat unenthusiastic, took her meal, and sat opposite her.

While eating, she complained:

“It’s better being with you. You don’t know, when you went to the third floor, the deputy steward pulled Wang Qiaoniang from the first floor to help on the second. That girl’s careless and keeps sneaking back to the first floor to gossip—just showing off, really. You’ve been moved to the third floor and haven’t shown off at all. I don’t know what she’s proud of!”

“Did she bully you?”

“She wouldn’t dare!”

Lv Xiaoniang puffed out her round face, put down her chopsticks, wrinkled her nose, and snorted:

“I have two big shots backing me up!”

“That’s good.”

Seeing Lv Xiaoniang’s proud expression, Yang Manniang felt she had worried unnecessarily.

Lv Xiaoniang’s aunt was a helper in the kitchen, known for being fierce.

No matter what, Wang Qiaoniang wouldn’t truly dare bully her.

“Forget that annoying woman!” Lv Xiaoniang waved dismissively.

Her eyes twinkled as she leaned in conspiratorially:

“Tell me, how was it on the third floor? Did you see the guest? Older? Married?”

Such gossip was common among tavern maids.

Most had no illusions about sudden social ascents; it was just idle talk to pass the time.

Yang Manniang had heard such gossip often in the changing room.

“Well... when I went to tidy up, the guest wasn’t there,” Yang Manniang hesitated, glanced around, then whispered, “But I heard it’s that commander from the Imperial City Guard.”

She truly had not seen the mysterious guest.

Yet, as a working girl, she didn’t mind. One day of work was one day’s pay.

If the commander remained so elusive, that was fine—she could work more freely and wouldn’t be nitpicked or ordered around.

Perhaps some deity heard her wish or fate intervened.

By coincidence, for the next few days, Yang Manniang cleaned Wangshu Pavilion for three consecutive days, lighting the lanterns on the flying corridor and hallways each night, yet never encountered Commander Fu Jingguang.

He seemed very busy.

She could only deduce his presence from subtle changes: the moved documents and books, the shortening candle on the stand, and the dwindling plate of fried broad beans.

She guessed he must have stayed overnight during the evenings.