Chapter Forty-Six: The Three Brothers

Zhao Shuihe told me that the Huainan branch of the Zhao family had moved out of Zhao Family Tower quite early. As a result, the "historical imprint" of the Zhao family had barely survived to her generation.

Many of the past events she recounted were stories passed down from her elder brother, father, and grandfather, and she did not dare to vouch for their complete authenticity.

As I had suspected, Zhao Shuihe’s lineage fled Zhao Family Tower during the early days of the War of Resistance, led by her great-great-grandfather Zhao. They endured great hardships, wandering restlessly between the northern banks of the Huai River and the Jiangbei region, drifting without roots.

Back then, to survive, they joined numerous gangs and organizations, engaging in many lowly dealings. The Green Gang, Salt Gang, Cao Family Gang, the docks, gambling dens, and the maintenance societies all bore traces of the Zhao family’s presence.

In that era, her great-great-grandfather’s life was extremely bleak. He and his kin did whatever they could, yet they never managed to rise above their plight or establish a stable footing. It was only on the eve of the founding of the new nation that, by a twist of fate and relying on their culinary skills, they joined the “Suzi Zuo” association in the two Huai regions. Through their craft, they gradually settled down in the Yangzhou area.

Human fortunes are unpredictable, success and failure often turn on a dime. Though the Huainan Zhao family suffered a tragic diaspora, in the blink of an eye, they endured the worst and finally saw the dawn of their breakthrough.

Once they stabilized, they unexpectedly found fortune through misfortune.

After the founding of the People’s Republic, the Huainan Zhao family, though hailing from extreme poverty, were skilled artisans and thus considered proletarian. They escaped the ravages of the decade-long Cultural Revolution, and after a few years of recovery, they flourished far more than their Lu Nan counterparts.

Moreover, with the mutual support of the Suzi Zuo network and the deep-rooted cooking tradition on the Zhao family side, this branch quickly integrated into Yangzhou’s culinary circles. After decades of hard work, they became a genuine “hereditary” line of chefs in the Huaiyang region. The family prospered, producing several renowned master chefs who are now at the height of their fame, proudly representing Yangzhou’s native culinary heritage.

Hearing this, I could not help but sigh. The saying goes, “A tree that moves will live, one that stays will die.” Their experience and circumstances starkly contrasted with the conservative Lu Nan Zhao family, yet they preserved a thread of the six-century-old “culinary family” legacy.

However, as Zhao Shuihe said, they and the Lu Nan Zhao family were truly distant relatives. Though they shared the Zhao surname, their kinship was more theoretical than practical.

The Huainan branch had long since parted ways with the Lu Nan main family, their blood ties diluted. Even before moving out of Zhao Family Tower, they had diverged for five generations; by Zhao Shuihe’s time, it was likely ten generations apart.

Aside from the fact that she was the grandmother of Zhao Haikun, who was related to my master Zhao Haipeng, there was little to link them.

Now, the Huainan Zhao family were no longer chefs at the Confucius Temple of Lu cuisine. The entire clan had assimilated locally, becoming natives of the “Two Ancestor Temples” of Huaiyang.

But I could not understand... why would such distant relatives know so much about the local affairs of Zhao Family Tower? And why would they travel so far just to attend my old squad leader’s funeral?

My curiosity was piqued.

So I asked, “You left over half a century ago; how do you still know about the Mingdeng King and the copper coins that can restrain him?”

At this, Zhao Shuihe paused to think, then replied deliberately, “Those who come from Zhao Family Tower will never forget these things—they are debts owed by our ancestors!”

“Debts?!” I was taken aback.

“Yes, debts!” she said. “Huowei Lian is a monster created by our Zhao ancestors three hundred years ago!”

Before I could ask further, Zhao Shuihe quickly recounted the origins of the cat demon known as Mingdeng King.

She said it all began in the late Ming dynasty, during the “Jia Shen rebellion.”

At the end of the Ming dynasty, amidst the Jia Shen upheaval, the world changed hands. The last Ming emperor hanged himself, and the palace maids, eunuchs, and cooks were all captured and conscripted by the rebel leader Li Zicheng.

Among these captives were Zhao family ancestors who served in the Ming court’s “Guanglu Temple” department.

Back then, the Lu Nan Zhao family had three brothers serving the court: the eldest named Zhao Dao, the second Zhao Huo, and the youngest Zhao Gong.

Though their positions were low, they were still officials. Coupled with their culinary skills, they initially escaped harsh treatment from Li Zicheng and were even selected to cook for the rebel army, sparing their lives.

Yet, the three brothers found their situation difficult.

Zhao Dao, the eldest, was bold and ambitious. Upon seeing Li Chuang’s favor, he dreamed of gaining a foothold in the new regime through his own abilities.

He shared his aspirations with his two younger brothers, but Zhao Huo and Zhao Gong strongly opposed his ideas.

Compared to the eldest, Zhao Huo and Zhao Gong were more cautious, with Zhao Gong being especially conservative. He believed their ancestors had been honored by the emperor, serving the Ming court for over a century. The late emperor’s remains were hardly cold—how could they abandon the Ming for the rebel Li Zicheng?

In his view, they should seize the chance to escape, contact the Southern Ming court, and work toward restoring the northern territories.

Zhao Huo agreed with Zhao Gong’s plan to flee but was more pragmatic. He reckoned the Zhao family were mere cooks with no influence over the realm’s fate. After fleeing, they should return to their Lu Nan homeland to avoid persecution and rebuild their lives.

Thus, the three brothers formed three entirely different plans, unable to persuade one another.

After much discussion, they respected each other’s choices and parted ways on a rainy night, embarking on three very different destinies.

The rest will be told later, but Zhao Huo, the second brother, traveled south that rainy night, passing through Baoding Prefecture, Kaifeng Prefecture, and Jinan Prefecture, narrowly escaping death several times before finally returning to Zhao Family Tower to seek refuge.

Back home, Zhao Huo, having witnessed the turmoil in the capital, realized the country was about to plunge into even greater chaos. The only thing he could do was lead his entire clan to avoid disaster.

But “avoiding disaster” was a skill in itself.

At first, his actions were no different from nearby villages around Shiren Gu: mobilizing the clan to build walled enclosures, organize militias, erect signal trees, and dig tunnels.

Soon after, however, he received news that shocked him profoundly.

Because of that news, Zhao Huo deeply felt that surviving the turbulent times by relying solely on his own strength was impossible—too difficult, too unrealistic.

He had to take a desperate risk.