When He Sheng pushed open the firewood gate, the sparse stars had already settled quietly along the silent eaves.
A bitter scent of medicine dregs hung in the courtyard, and from inside the house came bouts of violent coughing. He hurriedly set down the book box from his back beneath the eaves and quickly pushed the door open.
“Bang!”
A coarse porcelain bowl struck the tip of He Sheng’s foot and shattered across the dirt floor. Brown medicinal soup splashed onto the hems of his worn, faded trousers, halting his hurried steps.
“Where have you run off to die this time?”
The old woman on the bed spoke in a hoarse voice that sounded like stones grinding in her throat. Behind the white gauze curtain lay a body on the verge of death. The withered hand gripping the edge of the bed had turned pale from exertion, and with a sudden motion, she swept the remaining medicine bowl from the small table beside her onto the ground.
“Are you all waiting for me to die? Waiting for this burden to finally breathe her last so you can be at ease!”
He Sheng quietly looked at the mess on the floor, like pools of congealed blood.
He bent down to pick up the shattered pieces. A sharp edge sliced across his fingertip, drawing blood, yet he seemed unaware of the pain, as though he felt nothing at all. He only spoke softly in explanation.
“Grandmother, I was helping the teacher sort books at the academy and lost track of time…”
Before he could finish, the strange old woman behind the curtain had already grabbed a sandalwood pillow and hurled it at him. It struck his forehead squarely. He groaned in pain, his body losing balance as he fell to the ground, his palms pressing hard into the shards of broken porcelain.
The wooden pillow rolled once across the floor, smeared with medicine and dust.
“Lies! I think you’ve been dazzled by all those flashy things outside and don’t want to come home anymore!” The old woman gasped for breath as she spoke, coughing between words, veins bulging along her wrinkled neck. “Your father back then was just like—”
She suddenly stopped mid-accusation. Her cloudy yellow eyes stared fixedly at He Sheng, who endured her scolding without resistance. After a moment of silence, she cursed.
“Get out! Don’t stand here and irritate me!”
With that, she clutched her chest and lay down on her side.
He Sheng rose to his feet, still holding the bloodied porcelain shard. Seeing that his grandmother would not spare him another word or glance, he sighed softly, stepped out of the room, and closed the door behind him.
At dawn the next morning, before the light had fully broken and fine snow had just begun to seep through the window paper, He Sheng, who had spent the entire night slumped over the desk without sleep, awoke.
In recent days, his grandmother’s temper had grown even more erratic. At the slightest dissatisfaction, she would erupt in anger. Her health was worsening as well. Her coughing had become especially severe, and she would barely take a few bites of food before smashing the bowl to the ground.
He still had to attend the private school in town today, a journey of more than ten li through the mountains. He dared not delay.
After bringing food into the room, he quietly tucked the blanket around his sleeping grandmother and cleaned up the mess on the floor. Just as he was packing his brushes and ink into his book box, a light knock sounded at the courtyard gate.
He Sheng froze. At this hour, who would come?
He opened the creaking wooden door to see a young woman standing in the falling snow, dressed in a goose-yellow dress. Snowflakes clung to the ends of her hair, and she held an oil-paper package in her hands. Behind her stood a tall man with a stern face. Though dressed in coarse cloth, he could not conceal his noble bearing.
“Good morning, Young Master He.”
The young woman’s voice was clear and pleasant, like melting ice in spring.
“My name is Tang Li. I live at the east end of the village. I’ve seen you hurrying past my house these past few days and thought you must be working hard at your studies. It just so happens that I’ve developed a new dessert. Would you like to try it?”
He Sheng was stunned, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. It seemed his embarrassed state from a few days ago, when he had hurried home while gnawing on a cold bun, had been seen.
He waved his hands and stepped back repeatedly. “Miss, this… how could I accept this?”
“What happened before must have been laughable to you. Besides, we don’t know each other. How can I take your things?” As he spoke, he awkwardly hid his injured hand behind his back.
“What do you mean we don’t know each other? I know you.”
Tang Li smiled and pushed the oil-paper package forward again. “You’re young, diligent in your studies, and the only xiucai in our village. You even take such good care of your grandmother, despite having no blood relation. You’re a well-known talent and filial grandson around here.
This is a dessert I came up with, called Xuan Paper Cake. I made it specially for you to try.”
He Sheng lowered his head to look at the package in her hands. Her slender, fair fingers were slightly red from the cold.
“Miss, I still have to go to school today. I’m truly sorry…”
Just as he turned to leave, the tall man who had remained silent stepped forward. His lean but broad shoulders blocked the doorway like a wall, stopping He Sheng in his tracks.
The man’s expression was cold, carrying a stubborn determination that said he would not let him leave unless he accepted it.
“A’Niu!”
Tang Li cried out in alarm, quickly pushing his shoulder, her tone carrying a hint of reproach. “Young Master He, please don’t mind him. A’Niu isn’t very sharp.”
She turned back to the scholar with a warm smile, speaking sincerely, “Young Master He, please don’t take offense. I really put effort into making this Xuan Paper Cake. With the limited ingredients here, I could only figure out a rough version and make do.
It doesn’t even have a proper name yet. If you find it tasty, please help spread the word for me. My family depends on this craft to make a living, so just consider it doing me a favor.”
“Don’t worry, it won’t take up your time!”
As she spoke, she stuffed the oil-paper package into his arms.
He Sheng stumbled back slightly. The package in his arms was warm, pressing against his chest through his coarse clothing, and a faint sweet fragrance lingered at the tip of his nose.
Lowering his head, he examined it carefully. On the wrapping paper, a large “fortune” character had been neatly written in red ink, with two small crooked flowers drawn beside it.
“This…”
His throat tightened. Unable to resist his curiosity, he gently lifted a corner and opened the package.
In an instant, a sweet fragrance mixed with the scent of cream wafted up. Inside lay a small square cake, topped with a thin layer of icing as delicate as cicada wings. On it, a painting of flowers and birds had been carefully drawn in colored powder, the layered petals and lively bird rendered vividly. Beneath the “paper” was snow-white cream and a golden sponge cake, its colors alone enough to whet the appetite.
“This is… Xuan Paper Cake?”
He Sheng stared blankly at the exquisite dessert he had never seen before, unable to look away as he murmured.
“It doesn’t have a name yet. I just got the idea from the way scholars use xuan paper to paint flowers and birds.”
Tang Li pointed at the dessert, a hint of joy unconsciously appearing on her face.
“I thought it would be easy to carry, filling enough to keep warm in winter, and help students stay energized for their studies. And it’s delicate, pretty, and fun too.”
Dimples appeared at the corners of her lips as she smiled, her expression especially sweet. “Young Master He, look at this painting. I drew it myself! It may not compare to a professional artist, but it’s the thought that counts. Give it a taste. If it’s good, make sure to spread the word at the school!”
Looking at the delicate pastry, He Sheng suddenly thought of his grandmother, who had been bedridden for years, accompanied day after day by bitter medicine. If she could taste something sweet like this, perhaps her mood would improve.
Her sudden outburst yesterday, smashing the medicine bowl, was probably due to the bitterness in her heart.
With that thought, he swallowed and carefully wrapped the package again, placing it solemnly into his arms, his cheeks reddening further.
“Miss Tang Li, this Xuan Paper Cake looks excellent, but… I haven’t tasted it yet and dare not make a judgment. Perhaps… I could take it back and let my grandmother try it first? She takes medicine all year round, and I wish for her to taste something sweet to lift her spirits.”
Tang Li paused for a moment, then smiled. “What are you waiting for? Go give it to your grandmother. Just remember to tell me whether she likes it. I came up with this because of you, after all.”
He Sheng gave a muffled response and turned, carrying the package inside.
The warmth in his arms felt like a small flame, driving away the chill in his body. He eagerly hoped it would smooth the wrinkles on his grandmother’s brow and bring back a long-lost smile.
Clutching the package, he hurried to the room and pushed the door open. The scent of medicine was heavy inside.
His grandmother lay reclined on the bed, holding a bowl of medicine. Upon seeing him, she raised her hand as if to throw it.
“Why aren’t you at school this early? What nonsense have you been up to?”
He Sheng quickly stepped forward and caught the bowl before she could throw it, setting it securely on the table.
“Grandmother, I brought you something delicious…”
He smiled as he sat by the bed, carefully taking out the oil-paper package and unwrapping it layer by layer, presenting it like a treasured offering.
“This is Xuan Paper Cake made by Miss Tang Li from the east end of the village. Would you like to try it?”
The old woman’s cloudy eyes glanced at the package, her face full of disdain. “What kind of nonsense is this? Take it away!”
“Grandmother, look, this top layer is made of sugar icing, like xuan paper. It’s so delicate and beautiful.”
He Sheng persisted, smiling as he coaxed her. “And the painting on it is so lifelike, it even resembles what Father used to paint back then…”
“Smack!”
No one knew which words had ignited the old woman’s temper. Her withered hand suddenly lashed out, knocking the package from He Sheng’s hands onto the ground.
The sugar “paper” shattered upon impact, the white cream smeared with dirt, and the delicate painting of flowers and birds was completely ruined, reduced to a mess on the floor.
“You wretched thing!”
The old woman trembled with anger, pointing at her grandson as she cursed.
“What kind of bizarre nonsense do you dare bring into my room? Are you trying to anger me to death?”
He Sheng lowered his head, looking at the ruined mess. He slowly knelt down and reached out to pick up the dirt-stained cream. The fragments of icing reflected the bright daylight from outside, yet he felt no warmth at all, only a sticky coldness at his fingertips.
His throat felt bitter. After a long while, he spoke softly, “I wouldn’t dare… I only wanted you to be a little happier…”
“Happier? This is how you make me happy?”
The old woman trembled with rage, sweeping all the medicine bowls from the table onto the ground.
“You’re just like your heartless father! Get out, all of you!”