The sun slanted to the west. Before He Mingyu and the others had even entered the courtyard, they smelled a faint, sweet fragrance of fruit, wisping through the air and making their mouths water.
Pushing open the creaking courtyard gate, they saw two large bamboo baskets neatly placed in the corner. One was filled with plump, round golden apricots, their color like honey, becoming even more enticing under the sunset. The other basket was even more delightful: small, bright red cherries piled high, every single one crystal clear.
He Mingyu’s eyes lit up. She stepped forward, picked up a cherry, and put it into her mouth. As her teeth gently closed, the crisp, sweet juice immediately melted on her tongue. Perhaps because they were picked early, the flesh was firm and crisp, with a hint of tartness.
The golden apricots were a unique early-ripening variety found outside Bianjing City. They weren’t very large, and looking through the sunset, they were covered in a layer of fine, soft fuzz. A gentle rub in the palm made the apricot smooth and glossy. Unlike the sweet and sour taste of the cherries, this apricot was soft and juicy when bitten, the flesh thick, without a trace of sourness or astringency.
“Mother!” She ate another one and turned back happily to look at Wu Chunlan, who was busy in the kitchen. “The quality of this fruit is excellent! Especially these golden apricots; they are very sweet!”
Wu Chunlan, with her back to her, paused for a moment while scooping water into the pot before turning around with a smile. “I just happened to come across them… It was the village near Auntie Zhou’s maiden home, famous for growing early-ripening fruits. I saw they were very fresh, and the price was much fairer than in the city: ten wen per jin for the golden apricots, eighteen wen per jin for the cherries. Since I bought a lot, her brother was honest and gave me full weight, and he even offered to round down the change…”
“It’s more than just fair; it’s like finding a treasure!” He Mingyu squatted by the basket, picking through them excitedly. “Such excellent quality—if displayed in a fruit shop, the asking price would be quite high, especially for this basket of cherries.”
The people of Bianjing were wealthy. Golden apricots were already a common treat for commoners to taste in the spring, and many families even planted apricot trees in their own yards to satisfy their cravings.
Cherries were different. Because they were called the “first fruit of early spring” by scholars and poets, they were deeply favored by noble families. Furthermore, after the Imperial Examinations, the palace often bestowed cherries as a reward to the newly successful candidates, naturally driving up their value. Nowadays, cherries in Bianjing City were nearly thirty wen per jin, and a plate of honey-preserved cherries could sell for as much as eighty wen. If they came from a well-known shop, the price would be even higher.
She picked out a handful of the reddest, brightest ones, took them to the basin to wash, and called out to Yingzi and Shitou, who were feeding the chickens in the yard: “Come and taste these! They are very sweet!”
Yingzi ran over like a little bird, took the cherries handed to her, and stuffed her cheeks full, her face bulging. “Delicious! Sweeter than the ones we bought on the street last time!” Shitou also walked over silently. He Mingyu placed a few washed apricots into his hand. The boy lowered his head, took a slow bite, and didn’t speak, but his tense mouth corners relaxed slightly.
The family gathered around the fresh fruit, the atmosphere lively and joyful for a moment. The vague unease He Mingyu had felt due to her twitching eyelid that morning was blown to the winds by this unexpected windfall.
Looking at the full, brightly colored baskets, she silently calculated. The Bathing Buddha Festival was just around the corner. If the weather stayed this clear for the next few days, the new bread oven they had built in the yard should dry faster. Once the oven was thoroughly dry, not only could she bake bread, but perhaps in autumn, she could try drying some fruits or making candied preserves… Thoughts bubbled up one after another, like lush new buds appearing in the spring breeze.
She completely failed to notice that while Wu Chunlan was smiling and nodding along, her eyes often drifted involuntarily toward the window, hiding a hint of hesitant panic.
It wasn’t until they had finished washing up in the evening and the family gathered under the dim oil lamp that He Mingyu felt something was off. Wu Chunlan was much quieter than usual, only focused on bowing her head to mend old clothes.
“Mother,” He Mingyu put down the charcoal pencil she used for bookkeeping and looked over with concern. “Are you tired today? It was a long way to go to collect the fruit. Did the trip go smoothly? Did you encounter any difficulties?”
The hand holding the needle trembled imperceptibly; the tip nearly pricked her finger. The image of that suddenly appearing, gaunt, and shocked face flashed before her eyes. Her heart felt as if it had been grabbed tightly, thumping wildly, and a layer of cold sweat broke out on her back.
“No, nothing at all.” She forced herself to stay calm, lifted her eyes, and tried to make the arc of her mouth look natural. “It’s just… I heard from Yingzi that the bun stall across the street is also imitating your poems, and their business seems… not too bad. My heart is… more or less unsettled.”
“Our business has just started to improve, and they are already rushing to steal it. Mother is afraid… afraid that these good times won’t last.”
Hearing this, He Mingyu didn’t look worried; instead, she chuckled, a sense of certainty flashing in her eyes: “Mother, don’t worry. I suspect that it is not our business that won’t last—”
She paused deliberately, her tone light and teasing: “But rather, they are about to go out of business.”
This wasn’t her deceiving herself; whenever she remembered the commotion during the day, she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. It was truly a case of “Dolly the cloned sheep only living for six years.”
To backtrack to the morning: just as He Mingyu had finished reciting her doggerel poem, the couple’s stall across the way had also set up their position.
The man seemed determined to have a showdown, and imitating He Mingyu, he stretched his raspy throat and roared: “Thick skin, plenty of filling, keeps you full! Eight wen a steamer, such a good deal! Don’t miss out as you pass by, hot buns to warm your heart!”
The tone was crude and the lyrics were unsophisticated, but they were loud and direct. Many scholars hurrying by who didn’t care much for poetic lines, as well as travelers looking for nothing more than a cheap way to fill their stomachs, were genuinely attracted by the “eight wen a steamer” slogan. Suddenly, a group of people gathered around the stall opposite, making it seem quite bustling.
Seeing this, the couple beamed with joy, nimbly lifting the lids of the steamers. White steam puffed out, and they were busy grabbing buns and collecting coins for customers, bustling with excitement. Occasionally, they would glance toward He Mingyu’s side with eyes filled with competition and triumph.
However, this lively scene did not last long.
Just as they were busy serving the second wave of customers, the two young scholars who had bought buns first stood outside the crowd and spat. The one in the green gown actually spat the food in his mouth onto the ground, his eyebrows knotted: “What kind of filling is in these buns? Why is there such a strange taste?”
The other also frowned, chewing, and hesitated: “It seems… it’s a bit sour? It doesn’t taste like meat…”
The area in front of the stall went silent in an instant. The couple’s smiles froze on their faces. The man’s hand, holding a bun, stopped in mid-air, while the woman’s eyes darted around, stammering: “H-how can it be sour? This morning… these were steamed this morning, they are still hot…”
“It is sour!” The scholar who had spat out the bun raised his voice, walked up to the stall, and showed the remaining bun in his hand. “If you don’t believe me, try it yourself!”
This street in front of the Imperial Academy woke up earlier than other places because of the crowds of scholars. With such an incident occurring, it was like cold water dropping into a hot pan, and the commotion spread with a “hiss.” The onlookers didn’t scatter; instead, they gathered in even larger numbers. Nearby vendors also stretched their necks to watch the excitement, and whispers began to hum:
“They couldn’t have used yesterday’s leftover filling, could they?”
“The weather is getting warmer; meat and vegetables don’t keep…”
“Tsk, in this neighborhood, keeping things clean is the biggest rule for food businesses…”
Although the discussions were kept deliberately low, they clearly reached the ears of those around them, and immediately someone shouted: “Refund my money! The buns aren’t clean, I’m not buying!”
“That’s right! Refund! I don’t want them either!”
“To think they would dare to fool people with overnight food, how unreasonable!”
The questions and reproaches grew louder and louder, surrounding the couple. The woman panicked completely, her eyes darting everywhere, repeating only a pale and feeble: “That’s not true… Don’t listen to others’ nonsense, our buns really are fresh… Perhaps, perhaps these two gentlemen have different tastes…”
“My tastes are different?” The young scholar seemed to have heard the biggest joke on earth. “Who are you slandering! Do you dare swear to it!”
This commotion, unusual for the norm, quickly drew the street officials patrolling nearby. A middle-aged man wearing a black uniform with a stern face pushed through the crowd; it was the head of the Street Department—Zhao De.
He scanned the chaotic scene and said in a deep voice: “Disperse, disperse, what are you doing gathered here? What happened?”
Hearing this, the man rushed forward, spoke first, and pointed a finger sharply at the vendor who had been whispering earlier: “My lord! You must seek justice for this humble one! It’s this person! He slandered my family’s buns as unclean! Spreading nonsense here and ruining my business! Please arrest him!”
Zhao De frowned and glared at him: “Whether I arrest someone or not is up to this official; no need for you to dictate!” He turned to the vendor who had been pointed out: “You said their buns are unclean; do you have concrete proof? Or are you just spouting nonsense to deliberately disrupt the order of the market?”
The vendor had only made a few snide remarks because his own business was slow and he was jealous of the crowds next door. He never expected to bring disaster upon himself through his words. He immediately panicked and stammered: “M-my lord, please examine… I was just… I just heard that young gentleman say the buns were sour, so… so I guessed that the filling might not be fresh…”
“Did you hear that! Did you hear that!” The man jumped up immediately and shouted loudly, as if he had the upper hand: “He even admitted it was just a guess! This is slander! Deliberately ruining my reputation!”
Seeing her man like this, the woman found a bit of backbone: “That’s right! He should be arrested and beaten!”
Zhao De ignored them and turned his gaze toward the green-gowned scholar who had first complained about the sour buns, his tone noticeably more polite and respectful: “Young master, what is the situation exactly? Could you please describe it in detail?” Scholars of the Imperial Academy had limitless futures; he, a minor street official, naturally dared not be negligent.
The scholar was calm and handed over the half-eaten bun: “Official, please look. The moment this bun entered my mouth, there was a sour, rotten smell—this is definitely not the taste of fresh food. If you don’t believe it, you may taste it yourself, or invite everyone here to judge.”
Zhao De took the bun. Before he had even brought it to his mouth, a faint, stale odor hit his nostrils. His expression darkened, his eyes widened with rage. He threw the bun onto the stall board and shouted sharply at the couple:
“You tell me! When exactly was this bun filling mixed? How long has it been stored? If you dare to hide anything, I will have you taken to the Kaifeng Prefecture for torture!”
This shout was full of force. The woman trembled all over, her face turning as white as a sheet. She looked to her man for help, but the man was a spineless coward. Shocked by Zhao De’s momentum, his lips quivered, his eyes panicked, and he burst out: “The bun filling was mixed by her yesterday morning! She said it could be kept for two days! This has nothing to do with me!”
It turned out that when the two saw He Mingyu’s business booming, they had prepared a massive amount of filling from the start. But because the taste and appearance were significantly inferior, more than half was left over. Both were stingy about the meat filling and thought that the spring night was still cool, so keeping it overnight shouldn’t be a big deal. The decision had been discussed by both, but now, the man pushed all the blame onto her.
“What did you say?” The woman was stunned, her eyes showing a hint of disbelief.
The man flushed red and scolded her, the more he spoke, the more energized he became: “It’s all your fault! If your craftsmanship wasn’t so poor, would we have had so much left over yesterday? It was you who said it wouldn’t go bad in two days! You really are my nemesis! All day long…”
Hearing this, the woman sneered, looking as if she had turned into a different person. Gone was her previous cowardice; she grabbed his hair and began frantically slapping his distorted face: “I’ll let you talk nonsense! I’ll let you talk! Who exactly was the dog that said it could be kept for two days! Speak!”
This scene startled everyone, but no one moved, all still stretching their necks to watch. A peddler even began selling roasted pumpkin seeds on the street: “Freshly roasted pumpkin seeds, one wen a handful.”
“So it was overnight buns!” The onlookers cracked seeds and sighed. “The filling was mixed for a day and a night? Heavens, and they still dared to sell it for eight wen a steamer!”
The scholars were filled with righteous indignation, their angry rebukes rising and falling. Some impatient ones had already thrown the uneaten buns back at the stall: “Refund!”
The couple was now disheveled. The man’s cheeks were red and swollen from the beating, and there was even blood at the corners of his mouth. The woman had a fearless look on her face; if the officials hadn’t pulled the two apart, she likely would have hit him more.
Zhao De’s face was livid. He waved to the two young officials following him: “To dare to commit such filthy acts in front of the Imperial Academy! Confiscate their stall! Take them away!”
Several officials stepped forward in response, nimbly seizing the wooden cart along with the unsold buns, and pushed and shoved the two away. The crowd discussed the incident as they gradually dispersed, leaving only sighs and pumpkin seed shells on the ground.
Yingzi, who had watched the whole process with wide eyes, suddenly raised her little face and shouted happily:
“Selling Cicada-Wing Buns, fresh Cicada-Wing Buns! Clean, hygienic, and delicious!”
“And soft, flavorful steamed pork with rice flour, all made with fresh pork bought from the butcher shop this morning~”