They returned home from the market town past noon. Food had been set aside for Fusheng and Yang Tieniang, and the two ate hastily before each going about their own tasks.
Every day at dusk, Yang Tieniang would take her second daughter-in-law, Hu Xiangdi, to set up a stall at the night market between Yujiao Street and the Xihe Tile Market. They would pack up when the market dispersed and head home. Their main fare was wontons and dumplings with various fillings, the combinations changing with the seasons. Because the flavors were considered quite good among the night market snacks, business was brisk.
Waking at dawn to wash the stall cart and utensils, preparing fillings at noon, and setting up the stall in the evening—this had become the daily routine she shared with Hu Xiangdi. So the moment she started working, Hu Xiangdi, who had been making hair flowers under the eaves with the third daughter-in-law, Cao Sanqiao, pulled down the arm strap hanging from the eaves, wrapped it around her arm a few times to secure her sleeves, and came over.
Zhu Bingwen was obsessed with woodworking, but because of Old Master Zhu's insistence, he had not become a professional carpenter. Instead, he did handiwork at home and took it to the market to sell. He was especially skilled at carving wooden hairpins, and though Cao Sanqiao's embroidery was mediocre, she was deft at other crafts. She often made hair flowers and hairpins for Zhu Bingwen to sell at the market.
They weren't elaborate designs—just scraps of cloth gathered into little blossoms. They didn't compare with the expensive imitation flowers or silk gauze flowers, but as long as they were made with some delicacy, selling for a wen or two apiece, they could earn a bit of pocket money.
Hu Xiangdi had clumsy hands and poor embroidery skills. In the past, during idle moments, she had made a show of picking up an embroidery hoop and stitching away. But she couldn't produce a single handkerchief worthy of an embroidery shop's notice even after half a month. At first, Yang Tieniang hadn't checked on her progress, but as time went on, how could she not take a look?
That one look was enough. After that, Hu Xiangdi never picked up an embroidery hoop in her spare time again. Instead, she squeezed in next to Cao Sanqiao and helped make flowers.
At least the flowers she made were presentable enough to sell.
Seeing results, Yang Tieniang stopped scolding her for laziness. Having tasted the benefits, Hu Xiangdi was happy to join in, even if she found Cao Sanqiao stubborn as a mule.
"Oh, Mother, there's artemisia today! Late spring artemisia is tender and fresh—just a bit of minced meat and it'll make your eyebrows drop off from deliciousness! The day before yesterday when I was delivering wontons, Lady Qiongzhu, who always hawks her wares around the tea houses and taverns on Yujiao Street, asked when we'd have the spring-flavor wontons to catch the tail end of the season!"
Hu Xiangdi's face lit up as she gazed at the fresh artemisia in the basket, as if she were looking at a beloved lover. Before her eyes seemed to float the image of the always-generous Lady Qiongzhu, after eating the spring-flavor wontons today, casually tossing her a few copper coins as a tip.
The ten-to-fifteen-wen bowls of wontons—not a single coin of that would ever land in her own pocket. The prices were fixed, and Mother would carefully count the earnings after closing the stall.
But tips were different. If she didn't mention them, no one would know, and they became her private savings. Buying herself some face powder, or getting a little treat for her three children—none of that required begging anyone.
Yang Tieniang could tell from the look on her face exactly what she was thinking. She was well aware that her daughters-in-law each squirreled away a bit of private money. Aside from the eldest daughter-in-law, whose head wasn't quite clear and who would secretly save a coin or two to buy candy for her nephew on her mother's side, the other two either spent it on their own faces or on treats for their husbands and children. None of it was anything serious, so she was happy to turn a blind eye.
"River shrimp are cheap today, and they're lively and fresh. Clean these shrimp and mince them with pork for wonton filling. Take the artemisia, this basket of daylily buds, and the wolfberry shoots—have Second Aunt take Fourth Aunt to wash them." Before she could finish her instructions, Yang Tieniang spotted Junsheng sneaking out of the north room. Her brow furrowed as she called out sharply, "Eldest boy, what are you sneaking around for?"
Fusheng, who had just checked whether the dough she'd kneaded before leaving had risen and was picking up bamboo shoots to prepare, lifted her head at her mother-in-law's words, her gaze sharp as a hawk's talon fixed on Junsheng.
Junsheng's foot was still frozen mid-step, but his face had already turned around.
There was a smile on his face—though it was somewhat stiff. His overly long sleeve covered his hand, and it seemed he was holding something.
Fusheng narrowed her eyes. "Elder brother, what are you up to? Grandfather told me before he left that he assigned you new lessons today. If you haven't finished them, you can't go out freely, and you definitely can't go find Xiaosheng and Mangzi to fight crickets!"
Xiaosheng and Mangzi were both Junsheng's friends, and could barely be considered the budding form of "fair-weather friends"—neighborhood children Old Master Zhu didn't approve of his grandson associating with.
Xiaosheng was the son of Sun Mao, who lived in the alley. The boy was extremely slick, and his father Sun Mao was an enforcer at the gambling den. Since ancient times, gambling has been the start of ruin and downfall. Sun Mao was dishonest, and his son had picked up his habits. Most of the elders in the alley told the younger ones to keep their distance from that family.
As for Mangzi, he was loyal and righteous—unfortunately, he had a mother who didn't listen to reason. His mother, Li Doufu, loved to gossip. She couldn't be comfortable for a single day without talking about others' faults, and she was petty to the extreme—she'd make a scene over something as small as a needle's eye. Whenever Mangzi went out to play with others, if he so much as scraped his skin, Li Doufu would find the children who'd been playing with her son before dark and come make a scene at their door—the Zhu family had been visited several times too!
Under such circumstances, logic dictated that Junsheng, being sharp-witted, would keep his distance from them.
But somehow, the three of them seemed to share some secret, and they insisted on playing together.
It was only in the past half month that Fusheng had been keeping him in check, and with Grandfather and Father watching at home, he'd had fewer chances to go out and find those two. Before that, that slippery Junsheng would go out to play with them every single day.
At the words "fight crickets," the hand hidden under Junsheng's sleeve moved behind his back—after all, he was still a child. Clever as he was, his instinctive reaction was still there.
With that retreating motion, not only did Fusheng, who had been watching him all along, notice, but even Lansheng, who had just come out of the north room with Jusheng, caught sight of his hand.
Lansheng had also come out of the north room, just one step behind Junsheng. Lately, she'd been enjoying watching this younger brother's antics, and she happened to be right behind him. She reached out and snatched the thing from his hand.
"Oh my! What a mighty cricket general!" Lansheng opened the bamboo tube in her hand, looked at the spirited cricket inside, and exclaimed loudly: "Eldest boy, didn't Grandfather confiscate your cricket general? Where did this one come from?"
The smile on Junsheng's face grew even stiffer—where could it have come from? Since he couldn't secretly retrieve it from Grandfather, he'd naturally caught this one with great effort from under the wall in the back courtyard!
When Xiaosheng had come to find him secretly yesterday, he'd said that they'd arranged a cricket fight with the boys from the neighboring alley—whoever won would become the "Alley King" of both lanes, just as mighty as a mountain king.
Though he had indeed settled down these days, he still wanted to be the "Alley King"!
Fusheng genuinely thought her elder brother was quite something—for the sake of idle mischief, he truly spared no effort.
Cricket fighting, in Old Master Zhu's eyes, was the embryonic form of gambling. She could perfectly imagine that once Grandfather learned his grandson had hidden away another cricket, there'd be no need for her to resort to force—Grandfather himself would grab that specially tanned, extra-tough bamboo switch that Third Uncle Zhu Bingwen had prepared, and chase after Junsheng, huffing and puffing.
Of course, Grandfather wasn't home at the moment, but Grandmother was still there, wasn't she!
Yang Tieniang's only elder brother on her maternal side had gone from cricket fighting to cockfighting to gambling in betting houses, which cost him his life, sickened his parents with grief, and forced her to become a butcher to support the family at a young age. Compared to Old Master Zhu's aversion, Yang Tieniang's was even stronger.
Last time when she'd confiscated Junsheng's cricket, Old Master Zhu had already given him a thorough lesson, so she hadn't raised a hand.
Now, though… there was proper business to attend to, so she could grudgingly spare him a quarter of an hour.
"Erniang, hand me the cricket. Take Siniang and wash these vegetables. Later have Sanniang dice them—today's wontons will also have a seven-treasure vegetarian filling." Yang Tieniang spoke as if nothing had happened at all, merely confiscating the cricket while assigning tasks as usual.
Junsheng let out half a breath of relief, saving the other half to use his long-unused coaxing tricks to smooth things over before fully relaxing.
But unexpectedly, Fusheng's hawk-like gaze was still fixed on him, and Grandmother's task came down like a death warrant: "Within half a stick of incense, go to the oil shop and bring back a jar of sesame oil. If you're late, for the next seven days, all snacks are cut off, and you'll eat whatever your father cooks!"
Junsheng loved good food—Yang Tieniang knew exactly where to squeeze him, and when she was truly angry, she squeezed even more precisely.
Going on time to compete for "Alley King"—he was indeed itching to go; becoming the "Alley King" of both lanes—he longed for it.
But a truly angry Grandmother… she meant what she said. He didn't want to live without snacks, and he certainly didn't want to eat his unlucky father's pig… slop.
"I'm going right now! Grandmother, don't light the incense yet!"
He snatched the copper coins from Yang Tieniang's hand in a flash, and seeing Fusheng already pulling out some leftover incense from who-knows-when from under the chopping board, Junsheng's feet ran ahead while his voice trailed behind.
Everyone in the courtyard burst out laughing.
"Ever since being disciplined daily by Sanniang, Dalang has become much more obedient. Grandmother, what Uncle said is true—Sanniang is the heavenly maiden sent down by Lord Wenchang to keep Dalang in check!"
Hu Xiangdi kept working as she watched her son's fleeing figure, her heart swelling with delight.
She could never bring herself to discipline him harshly—hitting him hurt her own hand. If her son could stay under his little daughter's guidance like this, pass the boy's exam, earn the scholar's title, obtain the provincial graduate's name, and head to the capital for the imperial examination… wouldn't she have hope of becoming a titled old lady!
The more she thought about it, the happier she felt. Hu Xiangdi began calculating in her mind whether, after delivering the spring-flavor wontons to Lady Qiongzhu and receiving her tip today, she should buy Sanniang a serving of five-spice cake or a serving of fish dumplings.
As for Sanniang? Sanniang had already started making steamed buns.
The steamed buns filled with bamboo shoots, meat, and dried mushrooms indeed incorporated Lady He's teachings, but they also drew upon the experience Yang Tieniang had accumulated from learning cooking in her previous life.
With nimble hands, she took out a piece of pork hind leg with a good balance of fat and lean from the basket. She separated the fat from the lean, diced the fat, minced the lean, and then prepared diced bamboo shoots, chopped scallions, and minced ginger for later use.
The dried mushrooms were soaked in hot water until softened, then diced, with the soaking water set aside for later use.
These dried mushrooms had been sent by Hu Xiangdi's younger brother from her natal family at the beginning of the year, carefully selected, each one plump and full. If not for the fact that the fresh vegetables from the family garden could keep up with the household's appetite, such fine dried mushrooms would have been eaten up long ago.
Meisheng saw that her sisters all had their own tasks to keep them busy, and since her birth mother Lin Cui happened to be away from home, she set down her embroidery hoop and came over to help tend the fire.
Fusheng gave her eldest sister a sweet smile, then stepped onto a stool and stood before the wok. Once the wok was hot, she added the fat directly, stir-frying it until golden and the oil rendered out, then scooped it out. She then put the minced lean meat into the wok and stir-fried it until the moisture evaporated, before splashing in a little yellow wine to remove any gamey smell and enhance the aroma. Only then did she pour the previously set-aside fat back in, along with the minced ginger, bamboo shoot dices, and dried mushroom dices.
Watching Fusheng work with such swift, orderly movements, Yang Tieniang felt satisfied with her earlier decision to send Fusheng to learn cooking.
When Fusheng added the water used to soak the dried mushrooms into the wok, followed by salt, sugar, and a series of seasonings including their house-made sauce, the fragrance wafted out from the wok and spread across the courtyard with striking boldness.
"This filling looks a bit dark and murky, but it does smell rather good."
Junsheng's voice suddenly burst by her ear, startling Fusheng, who was just scooping the stir-fried filling out of the wok. Her hand trembled, and the spatula nearly fell into the pot.
Junsheng had returned from buying sesame oil a while ago. Going out to fight crickets was certainly out of the question now, and he couldn't bring himself to study even if told to do so immediately. Seeing that his grandmother didn't stop him, he wandered over to Fusheng's side to watch her make the steamed buns.
These were the steamed buns he had ordered! Bought with the price of reciting three passages from books and writing ten pages of calligraphy!
"Third sister, those are scallions, aren't they? Did you forget to stir-fry them?" Junsheng sniffed the air. He felt that he was truly hungry now.
Fusheng gripped the spatula firmly again, scooping out the remaining filling from the wok as she replied:
"No, the scallions go in after the filling has cooled, right before wrapping!"