Inside the packed teahouse.
The waiter served the last dish, fried fragrant pork loin. “Esteemed guest! Please try this famous Linchuan City dish, even nobles and high officials praise it endlessly!”
Although Ning Qingzhu sat properly and upright, her gaze instinctively drifted towards the aromatic dish.
This scene naturally didn't escape Jiang Moran's eyes. He propped his chin with one hand, naturally picked up a piece of pork loin, and placed it in her bowl.
“Eat. Why sit there like a statue?” As his words fell, the young girl’s eyes brightened slightly. She picked up the pork loin from her bowl, took a bite, and immediately her eyes curved into crescents, looking utterly content.
Though the young girl came from a poor family and had a difficult life, she didn’t gobble down the irresistible food. Instead, she ate slowly, carefully chewing each bite.
As if sensing his curious gaze, the young girl put down her chopsticks and said in a calm tone, “When I was little, my Grandmother and I relied on each other. Her health wasn’t good, so she occasionally did some embroidery work to make a living, and at least we had steamed buns for our three meals a day.”
“Later, Grandmother fell ill. That severe illness forced us to sell off the few possessions we had, including the embroidery fabric and needles. I went to every pawn shop in the city, but they all said they wouldn’t take a child so young.”
Jiang Moran listened quietly, serving only as a listener at that moment. The young girl’s eyes dimmed, as if returning to those days of barely scraping by.
However, the story continued.
“Once, I was caught stealing and they harshly threw me into an alley. There, I saw an old man whose ten fingers had all been severed. When he saw me, he smiled.”
It hurt so much, my insides ached.
Her frail, emaciated body lay on the ground, trembling slightly, covered in footprints, looking utterly wretched.
The old man, sitting against a wall nearby, saw her miserable state. His deeply lined old face broke into a smile, revealing a mouthful of uneven yellow teeth.
“Hahahaha, little girl, were you caught stealing?”
The young girl didn’t reply. She merely used all her strength to get up, trembling violently as she braced herself with her hands, but still managed to stand.
She didn’t spare the old man a glance, walking straight ahead with her arm clutched, until she suddenly stopped as she passed him.
A copper coin lay quietly in the old man’s palm, which had no fingers, showing two dents.
The young girl’s pupils constricted. She instinctively reached into her pocket, but it was empty.
The old man chucklingly tossed the copper coin into the air, which the young girl steadily caught. He looked up at her, his ugly face bearing a pair of deep-set eyes. “Little girl, amateurs call it stealing, professionals call it thievery. Even thieves have their Dao!”
...
“From that day on, he became my Master. He taught me to steal, and I split everything I stole with him fifty-fifty.”
“I only stole from the rich, never from the poor. I only used the money to buy medicine for Grandmother. At night, I would go to the alley behind the steamed bun shop, where they occasionally threw out spoiled steamed buns that couldn’t be sold. I would take them home to steam and eat them, slowly, just like now, because the steamed buns were very small.”
This story could have been told with tears, or with choked sobs, yet she recounted it in a flat tone, as if speaking of someone else’s life.
“If it weren’t for Young Master, I might have died in some corner this winter,” she said, looking up at Jiang Moran with a serious expression.
Meeting her gaze, Jiang Moran said nothing, only reached out again to pat her hair.
“You can eat faster from now on.”
“Otherwise, you won’t finish.”
After leaving the teahouse, Jiang Moran felt somewhat carb-drunk, his whole body feeling lazy and without any strength.
Ning Qingzhu looked at him like this, silently taking out a handkerchief to wipe a bit of oil from the corner of his mouth.
The streets gradually grew more crowded. The hawkers’ shouts along the roadside drowned out the commotion of pedestrians, and the rare and exotic items on display attracted passersby who stopped to watch, even making Ning Qingzhu frequently glance over.
Seeing this, he was slightly moved. He tugged the young girl’s sleeve and led her to a sugar painting stall, the place where her gaze had lingered the most.
On the stall were various animals painted and solidified from sugar syrup, especially a dragon, which was carved so lifelike and majestic.
“Shopkeeper, two sugar paintings.”
“Alright! Please wait a moment, esteemed guest, it’ll be ready shortly.”
Ning Qingzhu watched the shopkeeper’s movements, the sugar syrup flowing and dancing with the flick of his wrist, first taking shape, then gaining spirit.
Soon, the two sugar paintings solidified on sticks, a dragon and a phoenix.
Ning Qingzhu held the sugar phoenix, looking left and right, somewhat reluctant to eat it. This sight couldn't help but make Jiang Moran feel a little helpless.
“Even if you don’t eat it, it will melt.”
Ning Qingzhu pursed her lips, then carefully took a bite. The sugar syrup melted in her mouth, sweet but not cloying.
The tavern ahead was surrounded by a crowd, drawing passersby to stop and watch. Jiang Moran, too, was drawn by curiosity, and pulling Ning Qingzhu’s hand, he squeezed into the crowd.
He saw the Tavern Shopkeeper, belly protruding, standing on a platform, glaring sternly at the old man in front of him, and loudly scolding, “Old geezer, stop clinging on here. Get lost!”
The old man wore simple but clean and proper gray clothes, standing unmoving with neither subservience nor arrogance.
“Shopkeeper, I’ve handled the accounts here for a year. Why are you only giving me ten taels of broken silver?” he asked in a deep voice.
“You old good-for-nothing! At your age, it was me who took you in! How dare you demand more??” the Shopkeeper cursed angrily. Seeing the crowd gathering, he inwardly cursed again, then pulled another five taels of broken silver from his robes, threw them heavily onto the ground, gave a cold snort, and turned back into the tavern.
Five taels of broken silver were already not much, and after being thrown heavily onto the ground, they scattered, tiny gleams of silver everywhere.
“Silver! Pick it up quickly!”
“I got it! This big piece, hahaha.”
The surrounding spectators, seeing the broken silver scattered on the ground, all rushed forward, their eyes revealing greedy glints, afraid that others would take more than them.
For a moment, such a scene unfolded at the tavern entrance: countless people crawling on the ground picking up broken silver, and one old man standing.
The old man didn’t compete with them. His upright figure merely sagged a bit, appearing somewhat desolate.
He lifted his foot and walked away, never once glancing at the broken silver on the ground.
“Old man.”
Suddenly, a voice sounded from behind him. The old man’s steps halted.
He slowly turned to look at the speaker, who stood casually, watching him with a smile playing on his lips.
His gaze was calm, subtly revealing a hint of faint appreciation.
“You’re a scholar, aren’t you?”
The old man looked at him and slowly said, “I’ve read books, and I can say I have a slight understanding of things.”
Jiang Moran nodded in satisfaction, pulled a silver ingot from his robes, and tossed it over. The old man’s body moved instinctively, his hand unconsciously catching it.
The heavy weight resting in his palm made him pause slightly, looking at the other man with confusion.
“Scholars should earn a scholar’s money. Come, take me to see the ancient sites and cultural atmosphere of Linchuan City.”
The old man looked at his face, from clear to blurry, his fingers tightly clenching the silver ingot. He couldn’t tell if he was disbelieving he had received this silver, or if he was simply receiving affirmation.
...
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