Chapter 115: First Rain

Gou Buli proved a quick study, following his opening gambit with practiced skill. He twisted his features into a mask of remembered anguish and declared: "There I was, steaming baozi for Young Master Gou. Seeing what he'd done, I begged this steward—I said: if the young master doesn't want the leftovers, couldn't you give them to the tenant farmers outside? Let everyone share some of the Gou family's blessings." He paused, adopting an expression of aggrieved fury. "But this man—this man actually said their family name was 'Gou,' so even their dogs were nobler than outside tenant farmers!"

A murmur swept through the crowd below. The anger he had kindled now blazed openly. In an age of scarcity, the deliberate waste of food constituted a terrible crime, and voices rose in condemnation: "Kill this villain!" "Hang him alongside a dog—let them share blessings!" The kinsman on the platform gasped desperately, unable to produce a sound, his face turning crimson beneath his bonds.

Sensing his advantage, Gou Buli pressed harder, shouting at the half-old man: "What are you glaring at? With the Short-hair Masters as our Blue Sky protectors, we common folk don't fear you villains anymore! No more Gou family riding on our heads, shitting and pissing on us!" He rolled up his sleeves and stripped off his shirt, revealing a lattice of old and new whip marks crisscrossing his body. "Everyone—look at this! This year I roasted a single sweet potato in the kitchen. This fellow saw it and said I was stealing their horse feed. I told him: your horses eat golden millet and beans—what would I want with coarse stuff like this? Where would I even steal proper feed? Just for that remark, he reported me to Gou Xunyi. They beat me near to death and threw me in the dungeon. If the Short-hair Masters hadn't opened that dungeon door, I'd have died in there for nothing—" Recalling his torments, tears flowed with convincing authenticity.

By now the crowd below was weeping along with him. Wu De, pleased by the effect though privately aware that Gou Buli's account mixed truth with fiction, leaned toward Xi Yazhou and whispered: "Isn't this too hypocritical?"

Xi Yazhou shook his head. "The real stories are far worse than what he's telling. Look at them crying—that's resonance. If the Gou family hadn't done genuine evil, ruined real lives, would they weep like this? Right now, most people still don't dare speak. Those brave enough to speak can't articulate their suffering well. Gou Buli may be embellishing, but he's bold and eloquent. He stirs emotions and helps the others break through their shackles."

Wu De felt uneasy. He was older than Xi Yazhou's generation and had witnessed political storms launched through mass movements. What consequences might such movements have here? He wasn't certain. Seeing his skeptical expression, Xi Yazhou added: "Great undertakings can't sweat small details. Mobilizing the masses is paramount. Let's keep watching."

At that moment, someone approached and whispered that a maidservant was requesting an audience with the person in charge. Wu De was puzzled—why would a maidservant want to see him?—but quickly spoke to Xi Yazhou and departed with several men.

The Gou family's male and female servants, excluding the guards, numbered one to two hundred. Their backgrounds were complex and couldn't be easily sorted, so they had been temporarily detained by gender in separate courtyards. Earlier, based on Zhang Xingjiao's list, the most powerful servants had already been taken to the struggle meeting.

The maidservant requesting the meeting was named Chuyu—"First Rain." She had been personal attendant to Gou Xunyi's most favored Seventh Concubine. When the manor fell, all of Gou Xunyi's wives and concubines had hanged themselves, some forced and some willing, and several maids had also committed suicide in the chaos. But this girl felt no desire to die for her usually harsh mistress, and having seen that the short-hairs didn't harm women, her death wish had evaporated entirely. Perceptive and quick-witted, knowing some Mandarin, she had heard various rumors about these short-hairs. Watching these young "pirates"—tall, strong, light-footed, confident without arrogance, utterly different from the pompous swagger of masters or the timid cringing of servants—she couldn't help feeling a certain admiration.

She considered her situation carefully. She had been sold by famine refugees to this county, then resold multiple times before landing as a Gou family maid. Though she served as Seventh Concubine's personal attendant, that mistress was impossibly demanding and harsh—life beside her had been daily torment. Alone in the world with no ties of kin, she had only hoped that someday she might marry a servant or tenant and live peacefully. But Gou family maids never married; some remained unwed into their forties or fifties. Now the Gou family was finished, and she needed to plan her future. These short-hairs professed righteousness—no looting or killing after taking the manor, respectful behavior toward women. They'd even assigned a short-hair female supervisor with a good heart and attention to detail.

Servants weren't considered important; in a few days, most would probably be released to go home. But she had no home. She needed an exit strategy. After thinking it through, she decided to offer her secret knowledge as tribute. Her plan set, she approached Du Wen during a bathroom break and quietly requested an audience.

Du Wen had long planned the mass meeting and couldn't attend herself—a frustrating circumstance. Now an "oppressed class sister" was volunteering to expose secrets—perfect! She was about to have the girl speak right there, but this First Rain stubbornly insisted on seeing "the person in charge."

"I am in charge," Du Wen tried.

"Big or small charges—you're definitely not the main charge!"

"Why not?"

"Because you're a woman! What woman is ever the main charge?"

This left Du Wen momentarily speechless, mentally cursing the girl for having "no consciousness" and a "head full of patriarchal feudal thinking," but she helplessly summoned Wu De nonetheless.

Guided by Du Wen, Chuyu entered the interview room. She knelt, kowtowed, and bowed her head: "This slave First Rain pays respects to Master." Head lowered, Wu De couldn't see her face clearly, but her tall figure and composed manner already pleased him. After so long in this era, here was a rare woman matching modern aesthetics. He asked with a smile: "You're the girl who wanted to see me?"

"Yes. This slave."

"What do you want to tell me?" Wu De picked up the preliminary interrogation records—this girl had been Seventh Concubine's personal maid. "You were the Seventh Concubine's attendant. She's dead now—do you grieve for her?"

The question seemed dangerous. She replied carefully: "Years together as mistress and servant—this slave isn't made of grass and wood. How could I not feel sorry?" She said "sorry"—not "grief"—marking the distinction with precision.

"You don't look that sad."

Chuyu kowtowed and answered with composure: "This slave served Seventh Concubine, running and sweeping diligently every day—repaying her kindness for food and shelter. Master-servant bonds end there." In other words: my work matched my wages. The company's bankrupt now. Some sadness, sure. Regret? Not really.

Wu De nodded approvingly and privately praised her perception. "First Rain, lift your head," he said. She boldly raised her face, letting Wu De see her features while taking the chance to observe him in turn. She saw that this manor-conquering short-hair master was middle-aged, with regular features, heavy brows, piercing eyes, dark skin, and a strong, powerful build. Her heart stirred. Fearing his direct gaze, she lowered her head again.

Wu De's first impression: roughly eighteen or nineteen—a teenager who in modern times would still be in high school. Yet her demeanor showed steady self-possession beyond her years. He asked: "What do you want to tell us?"

"Gou Xunyi's study has a secret vault. Have the masters discovered it?"

"Secret vault?" Wu De and Du Wen exclaimed together. They had searched the entire compound but found nothing of the sort.

"Correct. In the inner study—behind the paneling is a hidden vault. It stores important correspondence, account books, and valuables."

A major discovery. Wu De understood immediately: gold and silver were secondary. This major pirate den's secret letters and ledgers would reveal crucial details about local power structures. Communication in this era was painfully slow—Guangdong news often took a month to reach the county, and local conditions could only be researched in history books. He nodded. "How do you know this?"

"This slave was Seventh Concubine's personal maid. Master often summoned Seventh Concubine to the inner study for sleeping. This slave waited in the outer room. Occasionally—occasionally—" She blushed slightly, showing a maiden's bashfulness. Wu De, the middle-aged man, also felt stirred before remembering that this child was old enough to be his daughter. Mustn't lose control. He nodded:

"Since you're willing to share such secrets, what do you want? Whatever valuables we recover, we'll reward you handsomely—then escort you home."

"This slave only asks Master to keep me as a servant. This slave has no family or kin. Even with gold and silver—where would I go? Please keep and use me!" She kowtowed again with calm dignity.

This embarrassed Wu De considerably—a young girl volunteering to serve as his maid. Such unexpected good fortune, first time in his life. Of course he couldn't agree; ignoring the hundreds of sexually frustrated otaku back home, Du Wen beside him would probably kick him. Fortunately, they had already planned for this: homeless servants would all be taken in.

"Very well. Sisters with nowhere to go—we'll naturally keep and employ you all. Rest easy! Now lead us to open the vault."

(End of Chapter)