Chang’an Small Restaurant Chapter 91 (Part 1)
Translated by Pure
Chapter 91.1 Deputy Magistrate's Confession
Shen Shaoguang rubbed her aching glabella, staring blankly at the lake and mountain scenery on the headboard screen. She had drunk too much the previous night with Princess Imperial of Fuhui, and then, she freely drank more of the plum wine, and then—Deputy Magistrate Lin arrived… And then?
This was Shen Shaoguang's first experience of drinking so much that she couldn’t remember anything. She racked her brain trying to recall what she had said or done during that time. It seemed so close, yet she couldn't remember a thing, as if the web novel website's server had crashed. The latest updates were showing, but refreshing just showed a spinning circle, and when it finally did load, it said, "Server is updating." It was almost enough to make her want to throw her phone onto the ground!
From the context, it seemed like there might have been a romantic subplot, or perhaps something inappropriate for children—people tend to lose their self-control when they've been drinking. Did she act flirtatiously with Deputy Magistrate Lin? If so, in what manner? Did she simply hug him, or did she kiss his cheek, or…? How did he react at the time?
The previous day, while drinking with Princess Imperial, she had thought about letting go. Don’t all lyrics say ‘If you love someone, let them go’? Whether she loved him or not… Shen Shaoguang stared at the canopy above, giving a wry smile, feeling a pang of pain in her heart.
She wondered, if she had done something inappropriate at that time, it would only make things more complicated—or perhaps, make her seem even more of a scumbag?
With a deep sigh, Shen Shaoguang covered her head with a pillow. Forget it. Forget it. It was pointless to dwell on it…
"Miss, you’re awake?"
A’Yuan lifted the bed curtains and pulled aside the screen. Seeing Shen Shaoguang’s condition, she was startled. "Miss, is your headache that bad?"
Shen Shaoguang lowered the pillow, forcing an awkward laugh. After a moment’s thought, she asked, “A’Yuan, I drank too much yesterday. Did Deputy Magistrate Lin come by?”
“He did.”
“What did I say to him?”
“You mentioned you had something to discuss with Mr. Lin, so we went to another room.”
Shen Shaoguang: “…”
Noting Shen Shaoguang’s expression, A’Yuan asked, “Miss, don’t you remember?”
Shen Shaoguang shook her head.
“You probably didn’t say much, after all, we only had time to make two bowls of hangover soup.”
Shen Shaoguang felt a mix of regret and relief. It seemed she hadn't done anything too egregious after all. Well, that’s good too.
“When I came in, you were already asleep.”
Shen Shaoguang felt her good drinking habits had preserved her dignity. At least she didn’t act like a scumbag; she still had a bottom line. As for falling asleep in Lin Yan’s presence—she wasn’t particularly concerned about that.
“You fell asleep in his arms, with your hair all tousled. Your face was tear-streaked; I also noticed Sir Lin’s clothes had quite a bit of your tears and snot.”
Shen Shaoguang: “…” A’Yuan’s method of recounting truly had its twists and turns!
A’Yuan remained unfazed. “I’ve seen people drunk enough to stumble into trees and even relieve themselves in public. What you did is nothing, Miss, especially since Sir Lin isn’t an outsider.” Like her favoritism towards the beautiful cat, Ming Nu, ‘facecon’ A’Yuan had already come to regard Deputy Magistrate Lin as their residence’s Master, quite unlike her previous attitude toward Sir Liu.
“It was Sir who carried you to bed.” Though she could have easily carried Miss herself, the way Sir Lin had handled her with such care—like he was cradling something priceless—made A'Yuan reconsider. Perhaps, in that moment, he truly was the better choice.
Shen Shaoguang pressed her lips together. “Is there more?”
“Before leaving, Sir Lin asked me to make sure you didn’t kick off the blankets and catch a chill—and to be vigilant in case you felt unwell.”
Shen Shaoguang nodded.
"Does your head hurt, Miss?"
Shen Shaoguang shook her head.
"I’ll go fetch you some honey water."
Shen Shaoguang weakly waved her hand in refusal.
A’Yuan furrowed her brow as she looked at Shen Shaoguang, wondering if the Miss had cried because of a quarrel. From Sir Lin’s demeanor, it didn’t seem like that was the case...
Shen Shaoguang took her time as she dressed, moving languidly before freshening her face and rinsing the remnants of last night's indulgence from her mouth. Seated before the mirror, she studied her reflection—puffy, her features marked by the telltale signs of a hangover. With a deliberate hand, she gathered her hair into a top bun, fastening it securely with a silk ribbon. This time, she wound it around a few extra times, ensuring there would be no chance of it coming undone again.
Knowing that she had overindulged, the kitchen had prepared a soothing bowl of sweet arrowroot powder and rice congee for her, enriched with jujube dates and goji berries. It wasn’t unpleasant to drink. Shen Shaoguang could almost picture Princess Yu San, with a disgruntled face, ordering, “Grind the arrowroot powder finer.” Despite her own complicated romantic entanglements, the people around her were rather considerate.
Not long after finishing her congee, Shen Shaoguang was still mulling over her interactions with Lin Yan when a servant came to announce that Sir Shao had arrived.
Shen Shaoguang was taken aback. It was the Winter Solstice, and with the snow making travel difficult. If he wasn’t mingling with merchants or attending to business, it was better to stay at home. Why the sudden arrival? Was there an urgent matter?
Indeed, there was.
“That Qiu Three still has injuries on his face. He claims it was scratched by his cat, but what cat has such large paws? Yet, this was his own fault. It’s known that when he moved to live with his wife’s family, he agreed to only have maidservants but not concubines, and certainly no external households. Now he’s kept a concubine outside and fathered a child. How could his wife not cause a commotion?” Shao Jie remarked, taking a sip of tea.
“Moreover, Missus Zhao is quite resourceful. She’s decided to sell the tavern in the East Market that had been managed by Qiu Three, focusing entirely on her family’s grain business instead. The grain store is staffed with Zhao Clan’s personnelles, which effectively ties up Qiu Three’s resources.”
To take drastic measures to deal with a drastic situation… Shen Shaoguang nodded, acknowledging that indeed, the women of this era were formidable. “So?”
“So, how about we take over that East Market tavern?” Shao Jie’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.
Shen Shaoguang glanced at her barely warmed house. Her funds were all tied up in it, leaving her little room for new investments. But she understood Shao Jie’s eagerness. The tavern must be quite favorable and priced attractively.
Indeed, “The tavern is not far from where we last set up our stall. It has good business prospects—two stories, a spacious main hall, and overall, it’s four times the size of our current establishment. The place was freshly painted earlier this year and was originally a tavern, so the kitchen is spacious and needs little modification. Since Missus Zhao is eager to sell, the price has already been reduced by 20%. If we negotiate further, it might go even lower…”
Shen Shaoguang pondered, “Is Missus Zhao in urgent need of money?”
Shao Jie shook his head. “Missus Zhao has a fiery temperament, but her decision to sell is more about resolve than necessity. The Zhao Residence has been a prominent grain merchant in Chang’an for years, with ample wealth. The real issue lies with their difficulty in producing heirs, which is why they took in Qiu Three as a live-in son-in-law.”
Shen Shaoguang nodded in understanding.
Seeing her contemplate, Shao Jie added, “Don’t worry about the finances. I know you’re probably short on funds after buying this house. We can consolidate the profits from our various shops, and I’ll seek additional support from my grandfather.”
Shen Shaoguang waved her hand, refusing to burden the Shao Residence. Business dealings must maintain their integrity. The previous additional investment was an act of kindness from them, not a sign of gullibility to exploit.
“Since Missus Zhao isn’t in need of money, how about this: we offer to mortgage and make payments in installments? We could use two of our shops as collateral, pay the down payment to her, and handle the rest through monthly or quarterly payments, plus interest.”
Shao Jie’s eyes lit up with new possibilities. He had heard of various loan schemes where repayments were made monthly, with collateral involved, but he hadn’t considered such an approach for purchasing property or shops.
