Perhaps because the festival was approaching, the small town was exceptionally lively. Half-grown children were not kept indoors by adults, instead wandering the streets together in groups of two or three. A few clever little rascals walked along the street carrying baskets brimming with fresh willow branches, shouting their wares.
Cen Xianyun watched as children about his own age passed by carrying bamboo baskets. The soft willow branches were very long, half of them hanging over the edges of the baskets. The fresh green willow leaves were tender, adorned with a few crystal-clear dewdrop beads that enhanced their appearance.
The third day of the third lunar month was the Shangsi Festival, a time for ritual purification by the waterside, sweeping away the old and welcoming the new.
Although the third day of the third month had not yet arrived, the lively festive atmosphere was already in full swing.
The willow branches swayed gently with the children’s steps, and the precarious dew dropped off, floating down to wet the back of Cen Xianyun’s hand. He turned his head casually to glance back. The diverse passersby mostly walked in a hurry, showing nothing unusual on the surface.
However, Cen Xianyun knew that several guards were following behind him. How could a delicate, frail young master go out without guards accompanying him?
Shaking off these guards would be effortless for Cen Xianyun, but there was truly no need. He had only come out to get some fresh air and was not doing anything shady; if someone wanted to follow, let them follow.
Cen Xianyun wiped away the water stain on the back of his hand and called out to a child: “Hey, how much are the willow branches?”
The child dressed in coarse hemp clothes immediately turned around, a bright, eager smile plastered across his face. His cheerful tone rose and fell rhythmically, almost like singing: “Two copper coins for three branches! Take a look, sir, they are all fresh and emerald green. Take them home and put them in a vase, and they can stay alive for quite a few days!”
Willow branches were hardly valuable items in Tangshui Town. Fearing Cen Xianyun might lose interest, he hastily shuffled through his basket, pulling out two moist twigs and holding them up right before Cen Xianyun’s eyes, racking his brain for words of praise: “Take a close look, sir. I woke up before dawn to pick these, and they are all the most beautiful batch.”
“I want,” Cen Xianyun touched his waistband and pulled out eight copper coins, which he had specifically exchanged with the gatekeeper before stepping out, “Give me eight copper coins’ worth.”
“Alright! Does the young master want to choose them yourself, or shall I pick them for you?” The child beamed with joy, hurriedly handing the basket over to Cen Xianyun. He fumbled with a ragged cloth pouch hanging at his waist and pulled out a yellow prayer sachet embroidered with a pattern of five blessings gathering together. “My mother embroidered this, and it sat on the altar table as an offering for a long time. Since you bought so many, I will give you one as a gift!”
Cen Xianyun took the little sachet and could tell at a single glance that it was likely made from scrap cloth cut off during garment making. The material was rough; even the rags used in his manor were much better than this fabric.
“Then thank you.” Cen Xianyun did not show any disdain. He accepted it with a smile, retrieved two more copper coins, and placed them in the child’s hand. “I will buy another one. You pick the willow branches for me.”
The child smiled even more brightly. Moving nimbly, he pulled out the sachet, placed it in Cen Xianyun’s hand, and retrieved a thin hemp string from the edge of the bamboo basket. Tying a dozen or so willow twigs together into a bundle, he handed them over to Cen Xianyun: “Thank you, young master! May you enjoy good health and have all your wishes come true!”
After speaking, he could not help but secretly glance up at Cen Xianyun’s expression. These two auspicious greetings were learned specifically from the sour scholar next door for the sake of doing business, and this was the very first time he had said them to a stranger!
“Thank you.” Perhaps infected by the child’s overflowing joy, Cen Xianyun hooked the corners of his lips, revealing a faint smile. He tucked the sachet into his waistband, held the bundle of willow twigs, and continued walking forward.
As noon approached, the street began to grow even more bustling. People from nearby villages pushed handcarts or drove ox carts into town to conduct business. The restaurant waiters swung their sweat towels and shouted even louder, their voices echoing back and forth like folk songs, terrified of falling behind and attracting fewer customers than the shop next door.
While they shouted with gusto, the street vendors setting up stalls along the road were not to be outdone, setting out various snacks. Cen Xianyun had not walked many steps before stopping in front of a relatively quiet little stall: “How much is this ball?”
A five-colored spliced hemp cloth was spread out on the ground. On the left side were bamboo-woven back baskets and crates, while the small remaining area on the right was filled with palm-sized trinkets like dragonflies and grasshoppers, all vividly lifelike.
Cen Xianyun immediately took a liking to the woven grass ball placed in front of the half-grown youth. The ball clearly looked tightly bound; the withered yellow grass roots were wound tightly into a solid sphere, looking quite like a ball of yarn.
The youth wiped the sweat from his face. This was not his first time coming into town for business, so he could naturally tell that the child before him, who was even younger than himself, was a customer with plenty of money. He bent over, picked up the ball from the ground, and spoke in a voice muffled and raspy from thirst: “This thing isn’t of much practical use and isn’t worth much to begin with, but weaving one takes a lot of effort, so”
He hesitated for a moment before quoting a price: “It costs fifteen copper coins.”
A single meat bun cost no more than five copper coins, yet a grass ball cost fifteen copper coins; it was indeed somewhat too expensive.
Cen Xianyun’s gaze rested on the grass ball held in the youth’s hands. In his mind emerged the cute image of a kitten batting at a ball of yarn. His fingers, concealed beneath his wide sleeves, twitched slightly, brushing across his palm with a faint itch.
Perhaps owing to his young age, the current Xie Lingyou would always expose feline habits at certain moments. He wondered if Xie Lingyou would do the same upon seeing this grass ball.
“This grass ball, as well as these woven small animals, I want one of each.” Cen Xianyun stopped his wandering thoughts, pointing to the small bamboo basket beside the stall. “I also want that small bamboo basket. Place the items inside and pack them up.”
The youth was greatly astonished; this was a huge order!
He hurriedly lowered his head to pack the items, his mouth muttering continuously as he calculated the price. However, before he could figure out the total cost, he heard noisy shouts:
“Young Master! This is bad! Young Master!”
The smile on Cen Xianyun’s lips froze. He took a glance at the stall in front of him, then turned his head to look over. The guards who had been silently tailing him from behind now disregarded their concealment, exposing themselves before him, accompanied by two out-of-breath servants.
The servants had run through half the town before spotting the guards beside the young master. Now they were so exhausted they could not even speak, leaving the guard to explain on their behalf: “Young Master Lingyou is crying!”
Cen Xianyun turned his head and glanced at the stunned youth, waving his hand: “You keep calculating. When you finish, tell me how much it costs.”
When had the youth ever witnessed such a scene? He buried his head even deeper, and even his muttering calculation grew much quieter.
“If he wants to cry, let him cry. What does it have to do with anything?” When Cen Xianyun turned back to face the guard, the smile on his face had completely vanished. He knitted his brows, appearing puzzled as to whether such a trivial matter was worth panicking over.
“No,” a servant panted for a long while before finally catching his breath, speaking with a mournful face, “Young Master Lingyou has been crying in the manor for over an hour!”
When Xie Lingyou first started crying and throwing a tantrum, nobody took it seriously, assuming he was throwing a childish fit because practicing calligraphy was too difficult. However, after everyone took turns trying to coax him, he failed to stop, hugging a piece of paper and crying at the top of his lungs.
After crying for over an hour, his voice turned hoarse and he could no longer make a sound, so he began silently shedding tears that could not be stopped no matter what anyone said. Butler Wu and Nanny had no choice but to send people out to search for the young master.
He had been out for quite a while now, and there was no telling if Young Master Lingyou had stopped crying. How could such a small child endure crying for so long?
Cen Xianyun’s expression changed slightly. Without even realizing it himself, his hand holding the willow branches suddenly tightened. He said nothing, turning on his heel to head back toward the manor.
“Eighty-four copper coins in total. Do you, do you still want them?”
A trembling voice sounded behind him. Cen Xianyun did not turn back. A servant hurriedly retrieved a piece of silver the size of a pinky fingernail from his pocket and tossed it over, grabbing the basket to catch up with the young master’s pace while calling out: “Keep the change!”
“System.” Cen Xianyun wanted to walk faster, but his body was simply too weak. An uncontrollable itch surged up his throat. He pursed his lips tightly, holding back the urge to cough, calling out in a low voice within his mind, “How is he doing?”
[Who?] The system, which had not spoken for several days, had not expected to have a day where it could lord over him again. It immediately acted snobbish, adopting a sarcastic and mocking tone to ask back: [Who is this ‘he’ the host is talking about?]
“701!”
An inexplicable rage surged from the bottom of his heart. However, what vented out before his anger was an irrepressible cough: “Cough, cough, cough!”
A sweet, metallic taste filled his throat, and blackness enveloped his vision.
“Young Master!”
Anxious cries drowned out the noisy commotion, and amidst the shouts, Cen Xianyun sank into endless darkness.