18 The Debt Storm

The leader of the group kicked Mengge aside, and after he and his men rummaged through the place for a long while, they found only a small earthen jar of copper coins. Finding it light, the leader spat on the ground and smashed the jar to pieces.

"Poor as church mice, aren't you?"

The leader spat again, pointing at Zhao Xiangping. "I’ll wait until the thirtieth of this month. If you can’t scrape together the money to pay us back by then, this shop belongs to us!"

After such a commotion, the patrons of the Li family’s deli immediately paid their bills and scattered. The neighbors watching from the street tutted, with only a few remaining. Jin, the proprietress of the Qian family’s noodle shop, helped Zhao Xiangping tidy up the tables and chairs. Uncle Li, who sold straw-woven goods, carried the kicked-over duck cage back inside, while Zhang Renbai stepped slowly out of the shop and beckoned to Mengge, who was still wiping away tears.

"They already came to cause trouble during the Qingming Festival."

Jin skillfully took a broom to sweep away the discarded bone fragments. "Ah Ping, that coward Li Dadan has been missing since New Year’s Day, leaving you, a lone woman with a child, to suffer in this shop. Why wait for a man with no sense of responsibility? Those debts weren't even borrowed by you!"

The money Zhao Xiangping had earned lately had all gone toward paying off debts, yet it remained a bottomless pit, impossible to fill.

Wei Jinyun set down a jar and joined Wang Qiulan in helping to tidy up. After all, they were neighbors sharing a wall, and Zhao Xiangping had often shared good food with the sisters.

Wei Fuqu and Wei Fuling stood beside Zhang Renbai, trying to coax a smile out of Mengge with a few candies. They were used to seeing Mengge with a wide, happy grin, trotting cheerfully behind them. Seeing him unable to stop crying now made them anxious. Since they were newcomers, it was Mengge who had helped them get to know the neighbors, and they couldn't stand to see him bullied.

"He said he had changed this time... that he was taking money to go do business elsewhere and would be back in a few months." Zhao Xiangping sighed, wiping away her tears. "I remember... I remember there weren't this many debts back at Qingming..."

Hearing this, Jin grew even more indignant. "A few months? It’s been half a year! Didn't he run off with the shop's money on New Year’s Day? He probably borrowed more after he snuck away. A man as heartless as him—I watched when he married you; he talked smoother than a professional singer. Now that he’s gambled it all away, he knows only how to hide like a rat!"

Jin was not many years older than Wang Qiulan, and she had watched Zhao Xiangping grow up; for twenty days out of every month, Zhao would eat noodle soup at her house. Li Dadan had originally been a porter who carried goods, and no one knew where he had picked up the glib tongue he used to sweet-talk Zhao Xiangping into becoming a live-in son-in-law.

Zhao Xiangping’s parents had provided the capital for them to open the deli. For the first two years, Li Dadan had acted like a decent man; the business was booming, Mengge was born, and it seemed they were headed for a good life.

But who would have thought that once he had some spare cash, he would become addicted to gambling? Over the years, he had lost a fortune. The deli, which he should have been managing, had fallen entirely onto Zhao Xiangping’s shoulders. Relying on her good recipes, the business stayed afloat, allowing her to fill some of his gaps.

But as soon as she filled them, he would go gamble again.

When he lost, if Zhao Xiangping wouldn't pay his debts, he would kneel, slap himself, bang his head against the door, use Mengge as a hostage, or threaten to light charcoal and take them all to their deaths.

There were truly such shameless men in this world.

Uncle Li was busy hammering a door panel that had been kicked loose. He thought for a moment, then struck a nail with his hammer as if the nail were Li Dadan himself.

"Ah Ping, that thing isn't even a man... Last month, a traveling peddler came by to rest and said he had seen someone like him in Bianliang, holding a harlot and drinking flower wine in the entertainment district. I scolded the peddler for talking nonsense at the time, but now that I think about it, it’s likely true. That wretch! His wife is here working herself to the bone to keep the shop open, while he’s out there living it up!"

He hadn't wanted to say anything, but if he didn't, the mother and son might be killed by him in the end. Today those people only smashed things; who knows what they might do next.

Wei Jinyun stood to the side, helping Zhao Xiangping fix her loose bun.

She soaked a towel in fresh water and handed it to her to wipe the blood from her forehead. "Auntie Zhao, we are better off without such a man. Since there has been no word for half a year, he is no different from the dead. You might as well file a petition with the local government, stating that he has abandoned his family and fled. Cut ties with this nightmare, and in the future, you can run this deli on your own; there’s no reason you won't do well."

Wei Jinyun had studied many such examples regarding marital debt. She hadn't expected to encounter a living case before her eyes. Impulsive, she couldn't help but speak up.

"I can file a petition?" Zhao Xiangping looked up at her, dazed.

She knew the young Miss Wei was a capable person. In just a short time, she had transformed the "haunted house" the neighbors whispered about and was able to make delicious pastries to earn a living. Now, it turned out she understood legal matters as well.

"Certainly," Wei Jinyun continued. "If a man steals the shop’s assets and runs away, leaving behind a pile of bad debt, that is considered 'absconding with his wife's property.' Remember, if you go to the magistrate, say this: He ran away with your private assets and left you starving. According to the law that 'a wife who cannot provide for herself is permitted to remarry,' the government will surely grant a divorce. Auntie Zhao, did you ever act as a guarantor for him?"

"No," Zhao Xiangping shook her head. "He borrowed it all behind my back."

Zhang Renbai stood to the side, his eyes wide. He hadn't been unexposed to laws during his studies, but they were things he forgot the moment he read them—the imperial examinations didn't test for them, after all.

How was this young Miss Wei so well-versed in this? The way she spoke, why did she look so tall and imposing?

She could climb trees, discuss the law, and make sweet pastries. She was like a handful of dough, capable of being molded into anything.

"Since you didn't guarantee the loans, you have nothing to fear. If the money he borrowed outside wasn't spent on your daily living expenses, you only need to explain this to the magistrate and bring your neighbors as witnesses to prove that it wasn't spent on the household’s oil, salt, sauce, or vinegar. These debts cannot be pinned on you."

Zhao Xiangping’s daily expenses were covered by the money she earned herself. None of what he borrowed had been spent on her, so it did not constitute joint marital debt. Since she hadn't spent it and hadn't signed as a co-signer, the case would be very easy to judge once in court.

"Really?"

"Yes. If you don't know how to phrase it, that's fine too; we can hire a litigation master."

Wei Jinyun couldn't be a litigation master herself, of course, but they were very common in the Great Song. She had asked around when she first arrived. Not only were there those with silver tongues who could talk the dead back to life, but for such an easy case, there would be many lining up to take it for a fee.

"Auntie Zhao." Wei Fuqu stared at her and suddenly spoke, "My father used to say that a gambler can never change."

"Yes, yes, there was one in our old alley who seemed to have his legs broken for gambling, and he still went right back to it." Wei Fuling, still chewing on her candy, nodded along with her sister.

"Ah Ping, look at Mengge. He was originally a clever child; at three, he could recite poems for us. It was all that man’s fault for lighting the charcoal!" Jin looked at the twins, and as she spoke of the past, her eyes welled up with tears.

Zhao Xiangping began to tremble. It was true—her Mengge had once been as bright as the Wei twins.

"...I want to divorce him." Zhao Xiangping’s fingers whitened as she gripped them. She took a deep breath and looked at Mengge, who had been comforted in Zhang Renbai’s arms.

If it hadn't been a sunny day back then, and she hadn't decided to take the bedding out to dry, she might never have seen Mengge again. Mengge was only four then; the man had been able to get up and kneel to beg for money, but Mengge’s lips had already turned purple.

Wei Jinyun stood by, shocked. No wonder she thought Mengge’s thinking was slower than other children’s; despite being taller than the sisters, he always seemed to struggle to grasp things.

It was carbon monoxide poisoning from back then.

To think there could be such a despicable man in this world!

Wei Jinyun’s anger flared up. "Auntie Zhao, set your heart at ease. The rules of our Great Song are clear; how could they let you suffer such an injustice? Once the magistrate grants the divorce, we can call those creditors to court for a confrontation and tell them to go find the one who ran off to collect their money. Why should you bear the debts he incurred?"

The others had been stunned by Wei Jinyun’s clear and logical explanation, but once they heard the word "divorce," they grew emboldened.

Jin wiped her tears and stood up immediately. "That’s right! The other day I went to the Changmen area and saw a widow and her daughter running a breakfast stall; business was booming. You have a real knack for roasting ducks, and the neighborhood recognizes it. Without him dragging you down, you’ll surely do even better. If he had a shred of conscience, he would have come back long ago. Since he’s like this, he’s a heartless wretch not worth a moment of your thought. Leave him! You’ll be better off without him!"

Uncle Li, seeing that Zhao Xiangping’s eyes were still red, softened his tone. "Don't cry, Ah Ping. It’s not worth ruining your health over that wretch. I’ll chip in for the money to hire a litigation master!"

"I’ll chip in too, that dog!" Jin, the more she thought about it, the angrier she got, and she reached for her coin purse.

Zhang Renbai, still immersed in the "imposing figure" of Wei Jinyun, was pulled back to reality by the word "dog." "And... and I’ll chip in too!"

The group had come to comfort the mother and son, but after Wei Jinyun’s speech, they all felt as energized as if they’d been drinking chicken blood. Even when Zhao Xiangping tried to refuse, they waited until she turned away to slip some money onto the table before running off.

"Sister." Wei Fuqu tugged on the sleeve of Wei Jinyun, who was stirring hot milk with a spoon. "Next time, don't be so quick to step forward and talk about the law..."

"I already explained why," Wei Jinyun smiled, adding a spoonful of brown sugar and letting it simmer slowly by the earthen stove.

Watching the fine white foam rise to the surface, she tested the temperature near the jar. It was warm but not scalding—about the right temperature to poach an egg—so she took it off the fire. She turned to pick up the bowl of finely ground ginger juice, which she had strained through a cloth, and held the pot of milk high, pouring it in a steady stream to mix with the ginger juice. She covered it with a saucer and waited half the length of an incense stick.

"Oh, so it’s just because you read more books while you were sick at home that you know all these arguments?"

Wei Fuqu waited for the ginger milk curd to set, looked at Wei Fuling, who was still comforting Mengge in the distance, and laughed. "That... really was a good argument."

"Oh, my dear Fuqu, why are you so thoughtful of me?"

"Who’s thinking of you?" Wei Fuqu looked away.

"Open up." Wei Jinyun spooned a bit of the set ginger milk curd into Wei Fuqu’s mouth. "Is it sweet, my dear sister?"

"Sweet, very sweet!"

Wei Fuqu’s face turned as red as a crabapple as she swallowed, but she still mumbled, "Anyway, I’m coming with you to the stall tomorrow..."

"Just to supervise you so you don't say anything reckless!"