The reason Wu Yulan frequented this shop was because Li Xiuyun had taken on embroidery work there, stitching handkerchiefs. Her embroidery was exceptional—where ordinary people earned only two or three wen for a handkerchief, she could earn five.
Of course, Li Xiuyun never got to keep that money.
“I was just about to tell you, sister,” Wu Yulan said. “My third daughter-in-law gave birth yesterday, so the handkerchiefs will be a bit late.”
The shopkeeper waved a hand dismissively. “No matter. Once your third daughter-in-law has recovered, you can stitch the handkerchiefs then.”
The two chatted a little longer, but Wu Yulan remembered she still had other things to buy, so she took her leave.
The shopkeeper watched Wu Yulan’s retreating back and muttered to herself, “That old sister—she usually looks like she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, but today she seems cheerful.”
She shook her head and turned back to her work.
Wu Yulan loaded the cloth onto her cart and then found a salt shop.
Fine salt had already been produced in this era. The market sold coarse salt, fine salt, and the refined salt that wealthy families enjoyed.
Coarse salt was bitter and astringent, so Wu Yulan had no intention of buying it.
“Boss, how much is this fine salt?”
The shopkeeper was busy, but seeing Wu Yulan, he called over a shop assistant to attend to her.
“Auntie, this fine salt is ten wen per small scoop, or a hundred wen per catty.”
The word “auntie” stung Wu Yulan’s heart with bitterness.
“I’ll take two catties. Can you give me a discount?”
“The most I can knock off is five wen. How about a hundred and ninety-five?”
Wu Yulan gave a slight nod, counted out the copper coins, paid, and took out a salt pouch to fill.
After buying salt, Wu Yulan found a butcher shop.
“Boss, how much is this meat?”
The butcher was a young man in his twenties. Seeing Wu Yulan, he grinned. “Auntie, I don’t sell my meat—I sell my pork.”
Wu Yulan tugged at the corner of her mouth and let out a dry chuckle.
Very funny.
“Auntie, just joking. Leaf lard is twenty-four wen, front leg is twenty, hind leg is nineteen, and pork belly is also twenty.”
“So, what can I get you?”
Wu Yulan picked out a piece of leaf lard weighing over three catties, a piece of pork belly close to two catties, and spotting the pork leg bones nearby, grabbed two of those as well.
“I’ll take this leaf lard and this pork belly. I won’t haggle with you, boss—but can you throw in these leg bones?”
“Heh, auntie, you sure know how to joke! These leg bones sell for three wen a catty! These two pieces are worth at least five or six wen.”
“But if you buy a bit more, I’ll throw them in.”
Hearing this, Wu Yulan picked up another piece of leaf lard weighing over two catties. After all, it could be rendered into lard and wouldn’t spoil.
Seeing this, the butcher said cheerfully, “Alright, the leg bones are yours, auntie!”
“Leaf lard, five catties three taels; pork belly, two catties two taels. That comes to a hundred and seventy-one wen—call it a hundred and seventy.”
As he spoke, he threaded the meat onto bamboo skewers and handed them to Wu Yulan.
“Could you give me a handful of that straw?” Wu Yulan pointed at the straw on the butcher’s awning.
The bucket was a bit rank; Wu Yulan thought she could line it with straw.
The butcher chuckled and personally grabbed a handful of straw to hand to Wu Yulan. “Auntie, if you keep coming back, you’ll pluck my awning bare!”
Wu Yulan gave an embarrassed smile, took the straw, placed it in the bucket, and set the meat on top.
After paying, Wu Yulan pushed her cart away. “Thanks, boss. I’ll be back to pluck more of your straw next time.”
…
With most of her shopping done, Wu Yulan followed the memory in her mind and found the rice shop where the prices were very cheap.
But just as she entered, she saw the shop assistant adding rice to the bin.
Wu Yulan scooped up a handful of rice and brought it to her nose. People trained in medicine tend to have a keen sense of smell, and she immediately detected that the newly poured rice was old stock.
She shook her head and thought to herself, “No wonder it’s cheaper than other shops—so this is how they cut costs.”
The shop assistant noticed Wu Yulan’s gesture, dropped the sack of rice, and snapped, “Are you buying or not? If not, keep your dirty hands off my rice!”
Wu Yulan tossed the rice back and said, “Can’t I even take a look?”
The assistant frowned and gave Wu Yulan a once-over, noticing her clothes were washed pale and patched in several places. He let out a cold sneer.
“Hah!”
“If you can’t afford it, don’t pretend. Who knows if you’re just standing there trying to steal rice!”
Wu Yulan’s gaze drifted faintly toward the rice sack as she said coolly, “Even mice wouldn’t dare steal from your rice—who knows how long it’s been sitting there.”
With that, she turned and left without looking back.
The waiter’s neck craned forward as he made to chase after her. “Hey, you old hag, say that again and I’ll—”
“Stop!”
The shopkeeper blocked the doorway.
“Boss, that old woman dared to spout nonsense—watch me tear her mouth apart!”
The waiter stomped his foot in fury as he watched Wu Yulan walk away.
The shopkeeper gave Wu Yulan a once-over, then turned and barked at the waiter, “Shut up!”
“Did I not tell you to mix in the new rice tonight? Are you deaf?”
The waiter hung his head and pointed at the rice bin. “But… this rice is almost sold out…”
“Then add fresh rice when it’s gone! If you slip up again, you’re out on your ear!”
As he was scolding the waiter, a dull-witted little boy came stumbling down the stairs, drooling, with a girl of about ten or so trailing behind him.
“Papa! Papa!”
Spotting the shopkeeper, the boy trotted down the stairs gleefully—then tripped and tumbled all the way down.
Seeing this, the girl rushed down in a panic.
The shopkeeper lunged forward to help his son up, then fixed a harsh glare on the girl.
Smack!
The girl covered her cheek with her hand, biting her lip and not daring to make a sound.
“Didn’t I tell you to look after Sicong? Is this how you look after him?”
He looked at the scrapes on his son, growing more displeased, and grabbed the girl by the arm, dragging her to the stairway before shoving her down.
Watching the girl roll down the stairs, the shopkeeper still seemed unsatisfied and cursed, “Bah! You worthless little wretch! What good is buying you if you can’t even watch over a child?”
“If my son gets hurt again, I’ll sell you to a brothel!”
The girl picked herself up from the ground. The scrapes on her body were nothing compared to the bruises covering her everywhere. She knelt and begged in a low voice, “Master, I know I was wrong. I’ll take good care of the young master. Please don’t sell me to a place like that!”
Hearing the girl cry, the boy hopped and clapped, giggling, “Hehehe, she’s crying, she’s crying! How fun! Hit her, hit her—I love watching her cry!”
At that, the shopkeeper raised his hand and slapped the girl again.
She was knocked to the ground, her face turned toward the doorway.
In a daze, she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure. She opened her mouth to call out for help, but then a thought crossed her mind, and the words stuck in her throat.
Never mind. Even if she called out, what good would it do?
The one who sold her would never buy her back—she’d be lucky if they didn’t sell her a second time.
Tears slid silently from the corners of her eyes. The girl lowered her head and knelt there, numb.
…
Wu Yulan compared several grain shops and finally settled on one with fair prices and a courteous waiter.
“Ma’am, what can I get for you? We’ve got rice bran, brown rice, fine rice, coarse flour, and fine flour.”
The waiter wore a warm smile as he spoke, scooping up a handful of rice to show her.
“Take a look—this is fresh early-season rice shipped up from the south. Delicious stuff!”
Wu Yulan took the rice, gave it a sniff, and said, “Mm, it is indeed fresh rice.”
“I’d like some fine rice and fine flour. What are the prices?”
“Fine rice is fifteen wen a catty, fine flour fourteen. How much would you like, ma’am? I’ll weigh it out for you.”
Thinking of the dozen or so mouths at home, Wu Yulan waved her hand. “Give me fifty catties of fine rice and fifty catties of fine flour.”
The waiter beamed, his eyes crinkling. “Right away! I’ll give you a good deal.”
After weighing the rice, the shop assistant pulled out an abacus and calculated with a clatter, “Fifty catties of fine rice comes to seven hundred and fifty wen, and fifty catties of fine flour comes to seven hundred wen. That’s one tael of silver and four hundred and fifty wen in total. I’ll knock off fifty wen for you—just give me one tael and four hundred wen.”
“Alright.”
Wu Yulan settled the bill, and the shop assistant helped carry the rice and flour onto the cart.
“Let’s go home!”
Wu Yulan pulled the cart, with Song Dalang and Song Erlang pushing from behind.
As they passed a vendor selling candied hawthorn skewers, Song Erlang licked his lips. He glanced at Wu Yulan, who was trudging along in silence, then drooped his head dejectedly.
“Wait!”
Wu Yulan suddenly remembered something and stopped in her tracks.