After finishing breakfast, Fusheng set out with her mother-in-law toward the market town outside the city walls.
Sweetwater Lane was not far from the market town they were headed to—at most a quarter-hour's walk on foot.
Unfortunately, as they left the house, Yang Tieniang and Fusheng did not happen to run into Granny Zhang next door.
Fortunately, just as they stepped out of Sweetwater Lane and had not gone more than a few paces, they came upon Yueniang, who was dragging along with a mournful, downcast expression, while Granny Zhang chattered on without pause.
They had not heard what Granny Zhang had been saying to Yueniang before, but the moment she caught sight of them, Granny Zhang's endless stream of nagging became perfectly audible to Yang Tieniang and Fusheng.
"…Sending you to learn a craft means you're supposed to bring back real skills. How many times have I told you—don't bare your heart to people who have nothing to do with you? That sly little wench who's practically turned into a spirit—do you think she'd ever open her heart to you? There aren't many honest, plain-dealing folks like our family."
"In everything you do, you need to keep your eyes open and your wits about you. You also need to sweet-talk like honey on your lips. With that dull, wooden look of yours, the master's been charmed by those petty schemers—teaching her how to cook while only having you chop vegetables. At this rate, you'll never finish your apprenticeship, and then others will go around saying you're stupid!"
"Your father can't earn much money, and your elder brother needs to study—he's sitting for the boy scholar exam this year. If you can't finish your apprenticeship, are we supposed to rely on this old woman to support the whole family? Even if the master is holding back her secrets, and we can't afford to send lavish gifts to learn the real techniques, at least you could keep your hands nimble and sly—slip some good meat and fine dishes into your clothes and bring them home to supplement the household. Surely you can manage that much…"
These words, Granny Zhang often repeated and scolded at Yueniang. During these past few days of holiday, it was not the first time Fusheng had heard them.
Upon catching sight of Fusheng and Yang Tieniang, Yueniang looked at Fusheng with a pool of tears brimming in her eyes, a pitiful expression that would stir sympathy in anyone who did not know her.
The first time Fusheng had met her, she had been fooled by exactly that look.
The original owner of this body had been a quiet, refined, and spirited young woman who always liked to do her own things in peace. After being selected by Lady He to study cooking and being told she was "clumsy and slow," she had devoted herself with exceptional focus to practicing on her own. Perhaps because she was too focused, or perhaps because Yueniang had been honest at first, in the memories Fusheng had inherited after arriving, there was no deep impression of the daily conduct of her fellow cooking student Yueniang.
That day, when Qingnu—Lady He's adopted daughter and senior disciple—held out a bowl of mountain goat meat with only half remaining and confronted Yueniang, Yueniang wiped her tears and began undoing her clothes to prove her innocence, shivering in nothing but a half-worn coarse cloth belly wrap. Fusheng could not bear to watch and spoke up to help her out.
But that very afternoon, as she was heading home after lessons, carrying the family's copper pot to Granny Li's at the mouth of the lane to fetch some sweet bean soup, she passed by the Zhang family's gate. Through the half-open courtyard door, she witnessed with her own eyes Zhang Yueniang pull out a cloth-wrapped lotus-leaf bundle from her closed-crotch trousers—and inside it was exactly half a bowl's worth of mountain goat meat…
After that, Fusheng observed Yueniang for a while… Her hands were truly not clean, and the places she hid things were truly… beyond imagination.
From then on, Yueniang's tearful gaze and trembling figure no longer had any effect on Fusheng.
Not to mention that her own mother, Hu Xiangdi, had gotten into a fight with Yueniang's mother, Liu Sisao, a few days prior—over what, no one knew—but they had grabbed each other's hair and clawed at each other's faces. One bore scratch marks across her face, the other had a swollen nose and bruised eyes. The tension between them was still running high!
Fusheng's gaze lingered on Granny Zhang and her granddaughter a moment longer than necessary, and Yang Tieniang noticed.
Her relationship with Granny Zhang was one of mutual animosity—they clashed in every conceivable way, not just in their birth charts. She had always looked down on the Zhang family's ways and naturally feared her own child might be influenced by them.
Fusheng was like her, and since she had no choice but to study alongside Granny Zhang's granddaughter, Yang Tieniang's greatest fear was that Granny Zhang's crooked reasoning would enter her granddaughter's ears and take root in her heart.
"Third Girl, remember what Granny has told you. A person must be upright—no stealing chickens or dogs, and no cutting corners. You must be down-to-earth and steady, so you don't shame your ancestors or lose face yourself!"
Yang Tieniang's eyes were filled with earnestness as she looked at Fusheng, but her voice was extremely loud—clearly meant not just for Fusheng alone.
What she hated most was when Granny Zhang used her twisted logic to educate children, always dragging other people's children into listening as well, poisoning the descendants of others.
Quite a few people were heading to the market outside the city walls along the same road, including several households that were neighbors of both the Zhu and Zhang families. Many pricked up their ears and turned their heads to watch the commotion. Granny Zhang believed Yang Tieniang was insulting her in a roundabout way, and her face darkened instantly. She slapped Yuniang hard on the back.
"Stupid thing! Can't even walk properly!"
Though she often did shameless things and taught shameless lessons, she still cared about face when out in public. Feeling humiliated and finding no other outlet for her anger, Yuniang, who was right at hand, became a convenient target.
Granny Zhang was only reluctant to hit her grandson—when it came to her granddaughter, she was generous with her blows.
"Hey, Granny Zhang, Yuniang is still young. Why hit the child for no reason?" A neighbor who couldn't bear to watch tried to offer kind advice.
Granny Zhang didn't appreciate it. She grabbed Yuniang by the collar and quickened her pace. The old-fashioned, flat silver hairpin in her greasy bun shook violently twice. Before long, she and the stumbling Yuniang had left everyone else far behind.
"Hey! That Granny Zhang!" The neighbor shook her head and struck up a conversation with Yang Tieniang. "The Scholar's Wife has been her next-door neighbor for all these years—what a trial it must be!"
Old Master Zhu was the only scholar in the remote alley of Sweetwater Lane, which was why Yang Tieniang was called "the Scholar's Wife."
In truth, the old couple were well along in years, and such a title no longer fit quite right, but who could blame them? The Zhu family had only this one old scholar, after all.
If Yang Tieniang had a son who passed the county examination and became a scholar, she would be called "Scholar's Mother." If that scholar son then passed the provincial examination and became a tribute student, she would be called "Tribute Student's Mother" or "Future Jinshi's Mother." And if that tribute student continued to study and advanced further, she might even become a titled lady or a grand matriarch.
Unfortunately, of her three sons, the only one who studied was an unlucky fellow—becoming a scholar would require heaven itself to smile down and grant him a stroke of good fortune.
"Neighbors are neighbors—we don't share a roof. Close the door, and what she does is none of my business."
Yang Tieniang couldn't be bothered to gossip about the Zhang family. She brushed it off with a vague reply, and seeing that the market was not far ahead, she lowered her head to speak with Fusheng.
Yang Tieniang had come to the market to stock up on supplies and provisions. Goods at the market were cheaper than at the regular fair, and when all was tallied, she could save a decent sum. She had brought Fusheng along because of the fresh bamboo shoots she'd mentioned. Though early summer had already arrived, the last batch of spring bamboo shoots was still available for sale.
Additionally, she wanted to buy a gift for Fusheng's master, Lady He.
In these times, skills were rarely passed on to outsiders. Although Lady He had no sons or daughters of her own, she did have an adopted daughter, so she had a proper heir to her craft.
When she had taken Fusheng on as an apprentice, she had made it clear that what she valued was Fusheng's keen sense of taste—it was appreciation of talent. After Fusheng began learning to cook, she had caused no small amount of trouble before things finally clicked.
Now, not only did Lady He teach with exceptional dedication, but before the holiday she had even given Fusheng a pair of silver clove-shaped earrings as a reward for her great progress. Though they were only the size of soybeans, thin and light, the craftsmanship was anything but ordinary—they must have cost at least several dozen wen.
She had discussed it with her husband, and their family was not one to be ungrateful. They ought to return a gift of some sort, to show that their child respected her teacher and honored her craft.
The kitchen was a place of constant contact with stoves and fire, so heat was unavoidable, and a sweat cloth was the most commonly used item.
A sweat cloth—a gift from a young apprentice to her master—would not draw too much attention.
"Third Lady, what color sweat cloth does Lady He usually use? Is there any particular preference for the material?"
Yang Tieniang did not expect Fusheng, only seven years old, to describe the material and style in any great detail. As long as she could give a rough picture, she would be able to find something suitable. This market outside the east gate of Wenzhou Prefecture sat by the water, with passing passenger boats, and occasionally one could stumble upon good things that would fetch high prices in the city markets.
Fusheng understood what Yang Tieniang was getting at. Lady He had been extremely kind to her, and she had wanted to offer some token of appreciation herself, but she had no money on hand, so all she could do was display her talent in every way possible.
Now that her grandmother-in-law brought it up, she answered quickly:
"Master has been using what looks like a piece of refined silk these days, embroidered with silver thread flowers. I heard her mention before that people outside care a lot about appearances now, and this style is all the rage among women cooks—only problem is it doesn't absorb sweat well, and if the wok gets too hot, it's ruined."
There was not a drop of exaggeration in Fusheng's words. Though Wenzhou Prefecture was not exactly prosperous, the women cooks there had great pretensions, especially the famous ones.
For the past two months, refined silk sweat cloths had been in fashion, and they had to have silver edging and silver embroidered flowers to be considered proper. Pretty as they were, they were truly impractical.