Chapter Three: The Diplomatic Murder Case, Part One

For Zheng Yanqing, the name Yan Hu carried extraordinary meaning.

He knew of Yan Hu, but he did not dare ask openly. He could only inquire in secret, and even then he learned little.

Now, out of the blue, Xiong Da Hammer had brought up Yan Hu’s name, and he was utterly shocked.

He wanted to ask, yet did not know how to begin. If Xiong Da Hammer were to ask why he cared so much about Yan Hu, how was he to answer? Could he say that Yan Hu was his maternal uncle? That would surely invite disaster.

Just as Yanqing was searching for a way to broach the subject, Zheng Shian suddenly spoke.

"Da Hammer, is there really no one left alive from Yan Family Village?"

Xiong Da Hammer froze, then shook his head. "I’ve never heard such a thing. Big Nose, why have you suddenly taken an interest in Yan Hu?"

Zheng Shian stole a glance at Zheng Yanqing and said with a smile, "Yanqing once wanted to have a lance made for cavalry practice, but he could not find a suitable craftsman. I know you’re a master at forging blades and swords, but you don’t know how to make a cavalry lance.

"When you mentioned Yan Hu just now, I thought: if Yan Hu is still alive, could we not find him and have him make a lance for Yanqing?"

Xiong Da Hammer scratched his head. "That, I really do not know. If Yan Hu is still alive, I’d guess he’s living under another name. Back when Yan Family Village was destroyed, it happened far too suddenly; hardly anyone knew about it. I only later learned from someone else that the whole village had been slaughtered... I suppose Yan Hu must have offended some enemy, and so met with such a calamity. As for whether any of his family survived, I’ve never heard of it...

"I do know Yan Hu lost his parents early, and it seems he only had one younger sister... I don’t think he ever married; as for whether he had children... heh, even if he did, they’d be hard to find. If little Qing truly wants to practice with a cavalry lance, I can find someone to make one for him. It won’t compare to one made by Yan Hu himself, but for practice, it should be fine."

Yanqing looked in surprise at Zheng Shian, not understanding why Zheng Shian would take an interest in Yan Hu’s affairs.

Zheng Shian seemed somewhat tense. After hearing Xiong Da Hammer’s explanation, he appeared to let out a breath. He turned his head and happened to meet Zheng Yanqing’s eyes, but quickly looked away again. Yanqing began to understand: could it be that Zheng Shian suspected some connection between him and Yan Hu? Thinking it through, it did not seem impossible. If Zheng Shian truly wanted to investigate, he would certainly have learned about the massacre at Yan Family Village, and might well have connected it to Yanqing. After all, Yanqing still had a longevity lock, which remained in Zheng Shian’s possession to this day. And Zheng Shian, it seemed, did not wish to tell him the truth.

Yanqing could make out the shape of Zheng Shian’s feelings.

He had no son or daughter; now he had only Yanqing, this one grandson. If Yanqing learned the truth and wanted to leave him... how could Zheng Shian bear that? The old man had pinned all the hope of his life upon Yanqing. If Yanqing truly went away, whether Zheng Shian could go on living would become a grave question.

Wang Zheng then said, "All right, all right. Since that Yan Hu’s whereabouts are unknown, let us not speak of him any longer. Da Hammer, hurry and bring out the gift you prepared for Yanqing."

Xiong Da Hammer laughed. "Heh, this gift cost me quite a bit of thought."

He pointed toward the carriage and said, "Little Qing, go up and see for yourself."

Zheng Yanqing gave Xiong Da Hammer a puzzled look, then turned to Zheng Shian. Zheng Shian had already returned to his usual calm, smiling as he nodded to him. "Go take a look. Your Uncle Da Hammer spent a great deal of money preparing this gift... That old fellow really dares to spend. He’s forgotten all about how hard things once were for him."

Yanqing leaped onto the carriage board, lifted the curtain, and peered inside.

Inside the canopy sat only a wooden box with no lid. It had been lined with blankets, and within it lay two black, newborn puppies, their little eyes still tightly shut.

Their fur was longer than that of ordinary dogs, and their faces were wrinkled, making them look rather endearing. The moment Zheng Yanqing bent his head inside, one of the puppies suddenly opened its eyes.

"This is..."

Outside the carriage, Xiong Da Hammer said with a grin, "Yesterday I went to Tongyuan Market and happened to run into a Tibetan. That fellow had been ordered by his master to come to Luoyang and buy rosin. Who would have thought that as soon as he arrived in Luoyang, someone stole all his money and belongings, leaving him without even a place to stay. I took pity on him and brought him home for the night. That fellow had a pair of large mastiffs, and they had just given birth to a litter of two. I was still wondering what to give you, so I asked him and bought these two little mastiffs."

The mastiff, in later ages, would be known as the Tibetan mastiff.

In the ancient classic on animals, there is a saying that dogs four feet tall are mastiffs.

Tibetan mastiffs were said to be enormous, lion-shaped, tiger-bodied creatures capable of rending wolves and leopards apart, and fiercely loyal besides. In his former life, Zheng Yanqing had once wanted to keep a mastiff, but their price was high, and many were bred artificially, with few of pure blood. So he had given up the idea. He never imagined that Xiong Da Hammer would actually gift him a pair of mastiffs...

In this era, there could hardly be any talk of artificial breeding. These two mastiffs were unquestionably genuine purebred dogs.

The little mastiff opened its eyes and met Zheng Yanqing’s gaze.

He could not help reaching out and gently patting the top of its head. The puppy seemed to approve of the affection too, and stretched out its tiny tongue to lick the palm of Yanqing’s hand. Overjoyed, Zheng Yanqing lifted the box out of the canopy.

Upon closer inspection, he discovered that the pair of mastiffs looked rather unusual.

Above their eyes seemed to be two brows, each astonishingly similar to their eyes. At first glance, one might think they had four eyes.

"The Tibetan fellow said this kind is called the Four-Eyed Mastiff, fiercer even than ordinary mastiffs.

"I had wanted to buy the pair of adults as well, but the Tibetan fellow flatly refused. He said these mastiffs are extremely loyal and in their whole lives recognize only one master. Often, the first person they see when they open their eyes will be taken as that master... Hm? Have they opened their eyes already?"

That meant the pair Xiong Da Hammer had brought had not yet opened their eyes before.

Then just now... Zheng Yanqing’s heart grew even more delighted, and he hurriedly said, "Thank you, Grandfather Da Hammer!"

"Heh, I knew it!" Xiong Da Hammer grinned broadly. "Little Qing is sure to like them. Brother Tiger is going to have to admit defeat this time."

Wang Zheng, standing nearby, smiled and nodded.

Xiong Da Hammer then explained several things to keep in mind when raising mastiffs, and afterward went with Zheng Shian and Wang Zheng into the bamboo house.

Yanqing, cradling the two little mastiffs, hurried back to his own quarters in high spirits.

He had Ma Ya prepare some blankets, since the weather was growing cooler and the puppies must not catch cold or suffer an accident. Beneath the stairs of the bamboo house, he had a mastiff nest set up, and only after settling the two puppies properly did he at last relax.

"Xiao Ya, from now on you’ll help me take care of these two little mastiffs."

Ma Ya nodded repeatedly. "Don’t worry, Young Master. I’ll take good care of them."

Zheng Yanqing smiled as he watched the puppies lying in their nest. Suddenly he reached out and patted the larger one. "You are called Thin Waist, the elder brother. You are called Four Eyes, the younger brother."

In legend, the Howling Sky Hound of the Dragon King’s nephew Erlang Shen was a kind of Four-Eyed Mastiff.

This could be counted as one of Yanqing’s small wicked tastes...

He stood up, preparing to leave. But then he saw Ma Ya lingering nearby, her little face red, her hands twisted together anxiously, as though she had something to say.