If the cold of Jingcheng in autumn and winter is a throat-cutting blade, then the cold of Yangzhou in autumn and winter is a bone-piercing thorn. Once the night wind rises, the chill spreads wantonly, seeping into every crevice.
Qing Luan lay in warm, dry new bedding. Having soaked her feet in hot water before bed, she now felt utterly comfortable all over.
After living with Su Zhen and her sisters for so long, she had almost forgotten how delightful it was to have a large bed all to herself. Starting tonight, this sturdy old willow-wood bed was hers—ample enough for her to stretch her arms out and even roll around on it.
She still had to check on the shop’s business tomorrow, so she set aside her small joy for the moment. Yawning wearily, she hugged her soft pillow and closed her eyes.
The howling night wind swept past outside the wall, making the window paper rustle noisily. In her light sleep, Qing Luan drifted between dreams and wakefulness, wondering: With such strong winds, would those two children be freezing?
They had once been pampered young masters held in the palm of someone’s hand. Now, having wandered in destitution for several months without perishing, it was clear they had been tempered into resilience.
Qing Luan felt she was worrying needlessly.
If they truly couldn’t sleep from the cold, they would naturally find a way. If all else failed, they would come to her themselves.
She tried to cast aside these unnecessary concerns: Raising children—providing them with food and a shelter from wind and rain was already going above and beyond. Caring too much would only entangle her, and she might end up burdened.
Those two little ones weren’t flesh of her flesh—why trouble herself with such idle worries?
At this thought, a man’s blurred face appeared before her eyes—it was Qi Zheng.
If he hadn’t died and had truly returned to fulfill his promise of “bringing her into the mansion with great fanfare,” she would have long been his legitimate concubine.
If all of that had come true, the two children now curled up in the woodshed would both be her sons.
If she had a husband, children, affection, and wealth, why would she rejoice so much over having an old willow-wood bed all to herself?
Alas, it was all just wishful thinking.
Qing Luan opened her eyes, sat up from the bed, and rummaged through the wardrobe for two quilts. Gritting her teeth, she still couldn’t bear to take the new ones. Instead, she threw on her outer garment, picked up an old quilt, and walked out the door.
Pushing the woodshed door open gently, she tiptoed inside. On the bedding atop the haystack, the two brothers were tightly embracing each other face-to-face for warmth, like two frail newborn kittens, their hair and clothes disheveled.
Before bed, Qing Luan had told them to wash their hands, feet, and faces. Now, aside from the washed areas that looked clean, the rest of them remained grimy, resembling more and more the neighbor’s black-and-white striped tabby cat.
Her feelings wavered between disdain and pity. She covered them with the quilt, then crouched down to tuck the corners firmly in place.
After finishing this, she rested her chin in her hands and quietly watched the two children for a while.
Her gaze shifted from their gaunt, emaciated faces to the broken window, which was surprisingly blocked by wooden planks covering most of the drafty gaps. The mouse hole in the corner was stuffed with a bundle of folded hay. Two pairs of worn cloth shoes were neatly placed beside the makeshift bed, their toes pointing outward—silently revealing the proper upbringing their owners had once received…
An absurd sense of relief washed over her. Qing Luan lifted the corners of her mouth, reached out to rub the boy’s ear, warming his icy earlobe before standing up to leave.
Seeing how clever and capable they were, taking such good care of themselves, she had nothing left to worry about.
Returning to her room, she settled down and fell peacefully asleep.
In the woodshed, Qi Yuchen, nestled in his brother’s embrace, slept soundly. After a quilt was draped over him, he snuggled even closer against his brother, unaware that Qi Zhaoye’s earlobes had flushed red and grown warm, his eyes opening in restless agitation.
Ever since that night when he had fallen asleep on the street and been kidnapped by traffickers, Qi Zhaoye had never dared to sleep deeply again. He remained vigilant of his surroundings, startled awake by even the slightest sound.
Her footsteps were light, as airy as the apricot blossoms she loved, free of hidden intentions, like mist or wind.
She had come to bring them quilts. After tucking them in, she didn’t leave but crouched nearby, lost in thought.
Was she scrutinizing their frail, sickly frames, disgusted by the grime covering them? Or was she pondering how to ask them to leave, or calculating whether the money spent on his medical treatment and medicine could be recovered…
The more Qi Zhaoye thought, the more fearful he became. He had endured countless such weighings and judgments before and had no confidence that she would be willing to keep them.
Anxiety and dread swirled within him, leaving him uneasy.
But Qing Luan said nothing. In the silent darkness, she only used her warm, soft hand to knead his ears over and over. The heat spread from his earlobes to the tips of his ears, as if his frightened, unsettled heart had been cupped in her palm, kneaded repeatedly until it grew warm.
Even after she stood up and left, Qi Zhaoye’s pounding heart refused to calm. His worries momentarily vanished, replaced by a surge of indignant shame.
Did she think of him as a little cat or dog?
After the shame faded, his heart, tugged by the lingering warmth at his ear tips, gradually settled: It seemed she didn’t dislike children… Thankfully, he was still a child…
At least for tonight, he could sleep peacefully.
The high-rising sun dispelled the chill. On the bustling main street, the doors of eateries stood wide open, with customers streaming in and out, filling the entire hall.
“Xiao Wu, go brew two fresh pots of wine for the guests.”
“Yan Yan, don’t clear that table—let the handyman do it. Go to the kitchen and wait to serve the dishes. If you forget which table ordered what, come ask me again.”
“Finished your meal, sir? Your bill is eighty wen. Here are some crispy beans and fennel peanuts we made ourselves. You’re a regular, so we’re giving these to you to try. Come back if you like them.”
The busy figure in green behind the counter resembled a fresh, elegant landscape painting. Even children unaware of feminine charms would glance her way more than once.
The proprietress was a young woman of sixteen or seventeen. Even dressed plainly with a simple hairpin and cotton skirt, she couldn’t conceal her striking beauty. Though in the prime of youth, she already wore her hair in a married woman’s bun. No one knew what kind of man she had married, but her status as a married woman was enough to deter honest men with few schemes.
Regular customers sat at their tables, stealing glances toward the counter when they had a moment, listening to her melodious voice, finding her beauty a feast for the eyes.
Qing Luan had grown accustomed to being watched and didn’t mind those unintentionally intrusive gazes.
She busied herself with her tasks, her mind preoccupied with other matters.
Only after the busiest noon hour passed did she join the staff at the table in the corner of the kitchen for lunch.
After the meal, Su Zhen brought a freshly fried packet of fennel peanuts to find her. “What’s wrong with you today? You seemed listless even during the meal. Is living in Huazhi Xiang uncomfortable? I told you that old bed is too hard, like stone. If you sleep lightly at all, you’ll be jolted awake.”
The two sat under the eaves, dried ducks and sausages hanging overhead. Su Zhen placed the peanuts between them as a snack.
Qing Luan chuckled softly. “It’s not the bed.”
She had laid two new mattresses on the bed, making it quite soft to sleep on, and she had slept very soundly the previous night.
“Just…” she pondered lightly, carefully choosing her words, “Sister Su Zhen, you’ve lived in Yunxi for a long time. Do you know of any families who might want to adopt a child?”
“Adopt a child?” Su Zhen thought it over carefully, chewing a peanut before swallowing.
“Now that you mention it, there are indeed two such families—the Qiu family in the north of the city and the Zhao family in the east. Squire Zhao and his wife are deeply in love, but unfortunately, they haven’t had any children in five years of marriage. Squire Zhao refuses to take a concubine, and I heard recently that he plans to open the ancestral hall to adopt a foster son.”
Since it involves opening the ancestral hall, he would surely choose from among his clan relatives and wouldn’t take a child from another family.
Qing Luan pressed further, “What about the Qiu family?”
“The Qiu family… Elder Qiu is a great philanthropist. He retired and returned to his hometown four years ago, and his family is already full of children and grandchildren. He’s seventy this year, and I’ve heard that he’s adopting children to accumulate merit for longevity. He doesn’t care about gender, background, or age, but the child’s birth date and time must be auspicious and able to bring him good fortune. Only then will he be willing to take them in.”
From the sound of it, the Qiu family might be a possibility?
She wasn’t necessarily looking for an extremely wealthy family to adopt the two children, but since they had a good foundation, if they could continue their studies, they might have a bright future ahead.
When she had some free time, she should inquire at the Qiu family. If their birth dates happened to match and they could be adopted by Elder Qiu, being raised in a large family would surely be better than staying with her, living a life of constantly watching others’ expressions.
Lost in thought, a large hand waved back and forth in front of her, pulling her back to reality.
Su Zhen asked curiously, “What are you thinking about? Why are you suddenly asking me about families who adopt children? Do you have a child you want to give away?”
Qing Luan’s face flushed slightly, and she casually replied, “I just saw a few little beggars on the road, and they looked pitiful.”
“There are plenty of pitiful people in the world…” Su Zhen was successfully diverted by her explanation and suggested, “The shop throws away so much leftover food every day. Why not pick out the decent-looking portions and give them to the beggars?”
“That’s a good idea.” Qing Luan smiled and nodded. “Let Xiao Wu handle it. Every evening, he can take the selected leftovers to the ruined temple, so the beggars won’t gather outside the shop and affect business.”
“You’re right. Let’s do that.” Su Zhen agreed, appreciating her thoughtfulness.
“By the way, Sister Su Zhen, I won’t be eating dinner at the shop these next two days. Could you prepare two portions for me and put them in a food box? I’d like to take them back to Huazhi Xiang to eat.”
“Sure, that’s no trouble at all.” Su Zhen agreed readily.
Then, feeling something was off, she leaned closer and asked, “Qing Luan, are you really alright?”
Under Su Zhen’s gaze, the young girl arched her delicate brows, her relaxed forehead resembling blooming petals in spring. Her lowered eyes flickered with a light, like shimmering ripples, captivating and warming the heart, as if catching a glimpse of a fairy descending through the mist accompanied by flowers and birds.
Su Zhen couldn’t help but blush at the sight.
But Qing Luan simply shook her head and spoke in a gentle, soft tone, “Two little stray cats have wandered into the house at Huazhi Xiang. They’re thin and pitiful, and I couldn’t bear to drive them away, so I’ll keep them for a while.”
The extra portion of food she planned to take home was naturally meant to feed the cats.
“Oh.” Su Zhen finally understood, feeling embarrassed for staring at her face for so long, and turned her head away.
In the afternoon, the accountant took over the shopkeeper’s duties, leaving Qing Luan with some free time. She picked up the food box filled with dinner that Su Zhen had prepared for her and returned to Huazhi Xiang.
Knocking on the door, she immediately heard the sound of pattering footsteps running through the courtyard.
Through the gap in the door, she could see the little one struggling to stand on tiptoe to reach the door latch. After grabbing it, he clutched the latch with both small hands and pulled the door open with all his might.
As the courtyard gate swung open, a thin, sallow face appeared behind it, with only a pair of clear eyes retaining their former innocence.
“Auntie!” Qi Yuchen called out in a sweet, childish voice.
Seeing her return, his little face lit up like a blooming flower. Excitedly, he clasped his hands together and tried to move closer to her skirt. But noticing the things she was carrying, he immediately took two obedient steps back, afraid of bumping into her and causing trouble.
The once annoying little troublemaker had become sensible—Qing Luan smiled and carried the food box into the main room, placing it on the dining table.
Looking back, she saw Qi Yuchen had already followed her eagerly to the doorway of the main room. But he stood outside the threshold, not daring to enter, and just clung to the half-open door, gazing at her with longing eyes.
Why was he so well-behaved?
Seeing his innocent and adorable expression, Qing Luan’s heart nearly melted. She crouched down and beckoned him to come inside. “Come here, let Auntie give you a hug.”
Qi Yuchen’s eyes brightened. Clattering in his worn-out cloth shoes with exposed toes, he rushed into her warm, fragrant embrace like a fledgling returning to its nest. His small arms wrapped tightly around her neck, and he nestled his face against her shoulder, murmuring softly.
“Auntie… Auntie is the best!”
Author’s Note: