Riding the gentle currents of the June river and passing through lush, shaded woodlands, the carriage wheels rolled steadily. By the time they returned to Yunxi Cheng, the mountainsides were already adorned with unripe apricots.
Outside the carriage window, everything was a vibrant green. Fledgling birds chirped, wildflowers filled the air with fragrance—it was still the familiar scenery from her memories.
Qing Luan was not a native of Yunxi. She had been sold at the age of three and passed along by human traffickers until she ended up here. She worked for nine years in a wealthy household in Yunxi, spending her entire childhood in this place.
She loved the mountains and waters here, craved the sweet rice dumplings cooked in apricot blossom wine, and longed even more for the old friend she did not know when she would meet again.
At a roadside wonton stall, steam billowed from a boiling pot. A girl in apricot-colored cloth clothes was clearing bowls and chopsticks from the tables, while a woman bustling by the stove was drenched in sweat from the steam. Yet she still smiled warmly as she greeted customers. Her figure was slightly plump, but her bright eyes were particularly endearing.
“Young lady, would you like a bowl of wontons?” the woman habitually called out, her gaze sweeping past Qing Luan before returning to the large pot.
A moment later, the woman snapped back to attention and looked at her again.
“Qing Luan?”
Qing Luan smiled. “Sister Su Zhen.”
Su Zhen looked her up and down, her face filled with disbelief. When they parted, Qing Luan had been a scrawny little girl. Now, four or five years later, she had grown into a graceful young woman, with dark hair and fair skin. Even dressed in simple cloth clothes, she could not hide her exquisite beauty.
Su Zhen’s eyes were brimming with joy, but her gaze lingered on the married woman’s hairstyle Qing Luan wore. She asked cautiously, “Are you married?”
Qing Luan lowered her eyes. “I was someone’s mistress for half a year. It doesn’t really count as a proper marriage.”
With such delicate and lovely features, who would have guessed she was already a married woman if she hadn’t mentioned it herself? However, traveling alone and mingling with all sorts of people, she carried her belongings with her and knew no martial arts. To avoid attracting unwanted attention, she disguised herself as a peasant woman.
Hearing the word “mistress,” Su Zhen’s expression softened with sympathy. She set down her ladle and motioned for Qing Luan to sit at the table closest to the stove.
“You look like you’ve just returned to Yunxi. How have you been all these years away? Ah, never mind that for now. Let me make you a bowl of wontons—hot and comforting.”
Qing Luan set down her bundle and watched Su Zhen’s busy figure, feeling as if she had returned to her childhood.
Back then, she was just a little maid, serving tea and water to the young lady, washing clothes, and occasionally helping with meals. That was how she met Su Zhen, who worked in the kitchen.
Su Zhen was three years older than her. She started as a vegetable cutter and later took over the cook’s duties, preparing meals specifically for the young ladies.
As they spent more time together, Qing Luan often brought Su Zhen scraps of fabric and colorful threads that the young lady no longer wanted. In return, Su Zhen would slip her leftover ingredients from cooking—half an apple, a handful of fried rice, two slices of cured meat… During banquets at the mansion, leftover scraps like chicken necks and duck feet were shared between them.
Back then, Qing Luan dreamed of becoming the young lady’s personal maid to earn a few extra coins each month. Su Zhen, on the other hand, hoped the mansion would host more banquets, preferably with her in charge of the cooking, to earn respect and “acquire” more leftovers.
They would chat and laugh, eating until their mouths were shiny with grease.
Unfortunately, the young master of the mansion was incompetent. After the old master passed away, the family fortune gradually dwindled. The meals for the masters grew increasingly plain, and the two little “mice” no longer had any grease to savor.
Later, when the mansion could no longer pay wages, Su Zhen left to get married.
Not even half a year later, the household collapsed entirely.
Qing Luan blew on the steaming wonton soup, the surface dotted with chopped scallions, then scooped up a jade-white wonton. As it entered her mouth, a burst of fragrant aroma spread—even more delicious than she remembered.
A sip of warm soup soothed the weariness from her journey, and she praised, “Sister Su Zhen, your cooking gets better and better!”
Su Zhen smiled and sat down opposite her. “I rely on this skill to make a living.”
Qing Luan glanced at the girl behind her. Since arriving, the child had been silently working without pause, showing no hint of childish playfulness. “Who is she?”
Su Zhen sighed helplessly. “My younger sister, named Yan Yan.”
“So it’s your sister.” Qing Luan’s face lit up with delight. She was about to call the child over when Su Zhen pressed her hand down and shook her head.
“Don’t call her. She… is a bit simple-minded. Only when she’s busy does she seem like a normal person. If she has nothing to do, she bangs her head against the wall. Several times, she’s even cracked her head open. I can only keep her constantly occupied to prevent her from having an episode.”
Hearing this, Qing Luan’s eyes filled with sorrow. “She looks about eight or nine years old. Haven’t you found a doctor to treat her?”
Su Zhen shook her head. “Where would we get the silver? This wonton stall is run by just the two of us sisters. We only earn thirty to fifty wen a day—how could we afford good medicine?”
As they spoke, Qing Luan learned that Su Zhen had once married a cook. Because Su Zhen’s skills surpassed his, the cook grew lazy and had Su Zhen take over his work while he spent his days gambling. Within a year, he lost all their savings and sold Su Zhen to a wealthy landowner as a concubine.
The landowner treated Su Zhen well, but he was too old and passed away last year. After his death, the main wife drove out all his concubines, and Su Zhen was cast out. She could only set up this wonton stall to make ends meet.
“Now, life is tiring, but at least we have enough to eat and wear.” Su Zhen sighed, then asked with concern, “You’ve just returned to Yunxi—do you have a place to stay?”
Having been someone’s mistress, yet returning to her hometown alone.
Without asking, she knew Qing Luan’s situation couldn’t be too good.
Under her friend’s caring gaze, Qing Luan felt too embarrassed to mention that she had saved some private funds. Nor did she tell her that she had left Jingcheng with Yinping, traveling together for a few days before seeing Yinping back to her hometown and then coming here alone.
Qi Zheng, Jingcheng, wealth and glory, love and separation—all were in the past. There was no need to look back.
“I asked about your whereabouts as soon as I entered the city and haven’t had time to rent a house yet. If you know of a good place, you could recommend it to me.”
“Why go through all that trouble? My sister and I live in Huazhi Xiang, in a small courtyard. It’s quiet there, and the neighbors are all decent people. We’ve lived there for a year without any trouble.”
Su Zhen warmly took her hand, her eyes full of expectation.
“In my opinion, you should move in with us. We won’t charge you rent—just having an extra pair of hands will make living more secure. If you have time to help me out occasionally, I can even cover your breakfast and dinner.”
Only those without family or friends understand how precious it is to have someone trustworthy by your side, someone you can talk to.
After a brief consideration, Qing Luan agreed.
Delighted by her acceptance, Su Zhen smiled happily. “Then it’s settled. I haven’t sold all the wontons yet, so I can’t leave right now. You don’t have to stay here with me—go explore the city. After being away for so many years, you should take a look around.”
Qing Luan had been thinking the same. She shouldered her bundle again and walked deeper into the city along the long street.
The layout of the city remained unchanged. This entire street was dedicated to food stalls, and the Drunken Immortal Tower standing prominently at the center of the street entrance was still bustling with business. Wine jars were piled high at its entrance, emitting an intoxicating aroma of liquor.
Yunxi was merely a small town within the Yangzhou region, neither as prosperous as Jingcheng nor blessed with the scenic lakes and mountains of Yangzhou city. Yet, it was the most tranquil and comfortable place in her memory.
She wandered from the east to the west of the town, then took a longer route back to Su Zhen’s wonton stall, where the two sisters were already packing up.
Qing Luan helped with the cleanup, and the three of them headed home together.
Su Zhen walked ahead, carrying the heaviest load of utensils. Yan Yan carried a basket stacked high with stools, while Qing Luan held a basket of bowls and chopsticks in one hand and the snacks she had bought while strolling in the other, still warm.
The savory aroma of meat seeped through the oiled paper. Yan Yan, who usually appeared vacant, kept glancing at Qing Luan’s hand, following closely behind her step by step.
Su Zhen looked back and saw the two walking side by side. In the past, she would worry about Yan Yan getting lost on the road, but now, seeing the child’s eyes fixed on what Qing Luan was carrying, her worry turned into a gentle, relieved smile.
“Qing Luan, I never thought you’d come back.”
“Raising Yan Yan alone has been tough. With you here, the burden on my shoulders feels lighter. Truly, thank you.”
Qing Luan gazed at the woman’s back ahead. Su Zhen loved cooking and always had endless passion for food. Qing Luan admired her proud demeanor while cooking, her blissful puffed cheeks while eating, and now, her broader, more resilient shoulders after years of hardship.
She smiled in response. “Sister Su Zhen, I came back to live a life. With the three of us together, we may not seek great wealth, but at least we’ll have enough to eat and wear, and find peace of mind.”
“Yes, peace of mind is rare in life.”
The once heavy and difficult path ahead felt effortless today as they chatted and laughed along the way, arriving home without even feeling tired.
They stored the utensils in the kitchen. Su Zhen asked Yan Yan to boil water and invited Qing Luan into the main hall, personally brewing tea for her.
Qing Luan stopped them both and unwrapped the oiled paper, revealing still-warm meat pies and vegetable buns. “Let’s not rush with chores. Come, have dinner first.”
Food tasted exceptionally delicious after a day of labor. In comparison, Qing Luan felt the delicacies she had eaten in Jingcheng were nothing extraordinary.
The last rays of the setting sun fell over the wall.
That night, the three of them slept together on the old elmwood bed in the inner room. The bed was hard and a bit cramped, yet each felt more at ease than ever before.
The day after Qing Luan moved in, she began helping Su Zhen with accounts and purchasing ingredients. In her spare time, she tended to the vegetables growing in the garden. Several women living in Huazhi Xiang made a living by washing clothes, so dirty laundry and bedding didn’t need to be washed by themselves—they could be outsourced for just a few coins each time.
From being a Shouma who served others with servility, to a kept woman who never lifted a finger, and now to someone plain-faced, dressed in coarse cloth, counting every coin earned and spent, frugal in every way.
Qing Luan adapted quickly to her new environment. She only wanted to live a stable life, whether as a servant, adorned in gold and jade, or embracing simplicity.
Thus, two months passed.
She was quite content with her current life: Su Zhen’s cooking was delicious, and she treated Qing Luan like a beloved younger sister; Yan Yan, though seemingly slow-witted, was diligent. Perhaps because the household had grown livelier with an extra person, Yan Yan rarely deliberately injured herself anymore.
Three bowls of wontons and one bed—though not wealthy, they didn’t have to endure others’ disdainful looks. Their hearts were light, and their days were comfortable.
But she always felt it was a pity that Su Zhen, with her exceptional culinary skills, only toiled over a small wonton stall instead of becoming a head chef at a restaurant.
Perhaps their lives could be even better.
Qing Luan felt the kindness of the Su Zhen sisters deeply, both in her eyes and in her heart, and she had no intention of being the kind of shrewd person who only looked out for herself.
So, on the day of the Beginning of Autumn, she bought a shopfront.
Another month later, Su Zhen’s Eatery opened.
Two helpers were hired for the kitchen, and the three of them bustled around the stove, busy and lively. Steaming home-style dishes were served to the tables. Behind the counter, Qing Luan looked up to greet customers and bid them farewell, then lowered her head to tap away at the abacus with a crisp, rhythmic sound, her eyes brimming with smiles.
The golden hues of autumn crept onto the tips of leaves. The wind blew through the wide-open shop door, quietly drifting into the kitchen, carrying the fragrant aroma of delicious food and the rising steam out the window.
The breeze soared up to the clouds, where the scent faded, then traveled over countless mountains and rivers, rustling the tattered hem of a young boy’s clothes.
In a dim alley, the boy pursed his chapped lips, clutching a dry, hard steamed bun in his hand. With effort, he bit off a piece, then forcefully broke the rest into small, crumbled bits, feeding them to his younger brother.
The younger boy, expressionless, could no longer remember when he had last eaten. Whatever his brother fed him, he ate and swallowed in large mouthfuls—an instinct forced upon them after months of wandering.
The playfulness, delicacy, dignity, and pride they once knew were all rendered insignificant in the face of hunger.
They had no idea where they were.
Two months ago, the brothers had been kidnapped in their sleep, tied up, and taken away in a carriage. When they awoke, they were already far from Jingcheng, and their valuable silk clothes had been replaced with plain gray cloth.
Qi Zhaoye seized the chance one night when their captors were distracted and escaped with Qi Yuchen into the wild mountains by the roadside, hiding deep in the dense forests. But they didn’t know what was safe to eat, surviving for two days only on wild bird eggs Qi Yuchen found in the bushes.
After leaving the mountains, unsure of the direction, they headed toward where the trees were lush and the weather mild.
Now, Qi Yuchen had grown as thin as a little monkey, while Qi Zhaoye had grown a bit taller, covered in filth. As he fed his brother, his bloodshot eyes remained as vigilant as an eagle or a wolf, fixed warily on the alley entrance, trembling with fear.
He absolutely could not die.
He would never abandon Qi Yuchen.
Even if they were reduced to beggars, wild dogs, or left to rot in the mud, they would survive!
The autumn wind swept through the clouds, and a cool drizzle began to fall, moistening the rough, dry food in the brothers’ mouths and drenching the young boy’s heart, already riddled with scars and with nowhere left to retreat.
Author’s Note: