Xu Chenger didn’t know much, only wearing an expression of reverence on his face. “That lady is an official’s wife of the sixth rank! I heard she’s even related to the family of Vice Councilor of State Affairs Wei. I don’t know how she managed to find my father to treat her illness.”
Xiangguo Temple opened to the public five times each month. Whenever it opened, crowds of commoners would swarm in, spontaneously setting up stalls and forming a bustling market.
Here, one could buy everything from jade and pearl jewelry of all kinds down to needles, thread, fruits, and vegetables.
This was even more astonishing to Yuan Niang than what she had seen at the docks. From the moment she stepped inside, her little mouth hadn’t closed once. At the temple gate, she even forgot about Grandma’s sarcastic remarks, eagerly scanning left and right with her eyes.
“Do you like it? This area is all for selling poultry and livestock. If you can think of it, you can buy it here.” Seeing Yuan Niang squatting by cages on one side and stroking animal fur on the other, Granny Wang couldn’t help but warn her, “If you take a liking to any of them, I won’t buy it. We’ve already decided to bring home the little wild kitten you wanted tomorrow. There’s no extra money to raise another one.”
Chen Yuanniang was squatting in front of a cage holding a snow-white odd-eyed lion cat. The cat sniffed eagerly at her outstretched finger with its damp nose, and the gentle lion cat even tried to poke its head out of the cage to rub against Yuan Niang’s clothes, showing great affection.
Compared to the little wild kitten hidden in the alley, this one was much more docile and clever, with soft, fluffy fur that was hard not to adore.
But Yuan Niang only played with and cuddled it for a while before standing up from the ground and trotting after her family.
The peach-colored ribbon in her hair swayed freely, just like its lively owner, never staying still for long.
Yuan Niang walked backward with her hands behind her back, facing Granny Wang. She tilted her head playfully, beaming with a smile. “I do like it, but I only like the little yellow tabby!
“I just asked that person. The lion cat is beautiful, but it can’t catch mice. It can only be raised delicately, and that won’t do. I’m keeping a cat to help Grandma with her worries. How can I abandon the essential for the trivial and just chase after superficial beauty?”
Even though she knew this little girl’s words were all sweet talk to please an old woman like her, Granny Wang couldn’t help but smile, her eyes crinkling with joy.
But she still said, “All you know is how to sweet-talk your grandma.
“Look at you, not even walking properly. Don’t come crying to me if you get bumped into.”
Though Granny Wang said this, her rough, tanned hand took hold of Yuan Niang’s fair, delicate wrist to keep her from being jostled by the passing crowd.
Beside them, Madam Cen and Chen Kuo Cang walked along steadily. Madam Cen had lived in Bianjing in her early years, and her mother-in-law was lenient. Although the grand market at Xiangguo Temple was lively, she had often come out with her husband to see it and didn’t find it particularly novel. Instead, she felt a sense of nostalgia, as if things had changed while people remained the same.
As for Chen Kuo Cang, he was naturally curious, but the adult inside him wouldn’t allow him to shake his head or look around eagerly.
Even though others didn’t know how old he was, this was his last bit of stubborn pride!
Yet the very next moment, the composed and steady Chen Kuo Cang was pulled along by Yuan Niang, holding her small hand as they darted through the crowd. He looked no different from any seven- or eight-year-old child—and a mischievous one at that.
Considering that the person leading him was his elder sister, Chen Kuo Cang thought calmly, Since I’m wearing the skin of a child, it’s fine to be a bit unruly. Who knows how old I really am?
No shame in that.
As long as Elder Sister is happy!
Chen Yuanniang pulled Chen Kuocang to a stop in front of a stall. Gazing at the enormous iron basin that stood taller than herself, Yuan Niang opened her mouth in disbelief. “Xi Lang, what is this?”
The stall owner answered her—a man in his thirties or forties, wearing a soft gray-blue headscarf, his sleeves rolled up, and a long sweat towel tied around his waist. “This is an iron pot, but ordinary households don’t need one this large. These are usually used in restaurants.
“If your family wants to buy one, why not take a look at these smaller ones below? This pot is cheap, only two hundred wen. Though it’s a bit small, it’s more than enough to cook meals for a few people at home.” The stall owner explained cheerfully.
Chen Yuanniang held up her palm to compare, clicking her tongue in surprise. “It’s barely bigger than my hand!”
…And yet it was so expensive.
She didn’t voice the latter thought. In the few days since arriving in Bianjing, Yuan Niang had learned not to appear too astonished, or people would immediately recognize her as a country girl. But it truly was expensive—so small it could only sit on a clay stove, barely sufficient for cooking any dish, unless one imitated the wealthy families of the south, preparing individual Bo Xia Gong hot pots for each person.
The stall owner assumed Yuan Niang was dissatisfied with the pot’s size and eagerly introduced the others nearby, such as the nine-inch one for six hundred wen or the thirteen-inch one for one guan, and so on.
Perhaps because no one else had approached his stall yet, the owner patiently detailed the advantages of iron pots, concluding, “Even nobles and the imperial family greatly enjoy meals cooked in iron pots—the color and aroma are exceptional. Even with mediocre skill, the flavor can be elevated to near perfection.”
Just as he was speaking, Granny Wang arrived with Madam Cen in tow.
As soon as she reached them, Granny Wang shot Yuan Niang a sharp glare, though she held back from scolding her openly in public, mindful of the young lady’s delicate pride.
Yuan Niang seized the opportunity to play dumb, grinning innocently and putting on the air of a naive, guileless young lady.
Fortunately, Granny Wang had come intending to buy an iron pot and didn’t dwell on her annoyance. Instead, she squatted down to examine each pot carefully, handling them one by one.
If she were of noble birth, a young lady in her boudoir would typically busy herself with needlework and embroidery, or at best, read a few more books and become a poetess whose works never left the inner chambers. As for matters of the stove, she might manage accounts well enough, but rarely would she get her hands dirty doing the actual cooking.
With all the oil and fire, it was a messy affair—how could a pampered young lady endure such hardship?
Yet Granny Wang happened to be an expert in this very area. Her own mother had passed away early, and to win favor with her stepmother and ensure her father remembered he had this daughter, she had devoted herself not only to needlework but also to studying cooking, often preparing dishes to send to them.
She did earn praise for it, but when the time came to sacrifice her lifelong happiness for the family’s gain, her father hadn’t hesitated.
Now, having grown shrewd with age, Granny Wang couldn’t help but find it amusing to recall the past—how could a few dishes ever sway someone’s selfish interests?
Pushing aside these old memories surfacing in her mind, she focused on examining the iron pots. She tapped and knocked on them, then lifted them toward the sky to check for any light leaking through the surface. Whether she found any flaws remained unknown, but the stall owner grew alert, realizing she was not one to be easily fooled.
Thus, when Grandma started haggling, it went quite smoothly.
She had her eye on the thirteen-inch iron pot, as the stove in their current residence was already built. Unless they tore it down, they had to buy a pot to fit its dimensions. But there were advantages to a larger size—when stewing large cuts of pork or mutton, it wouldn’t be stretched to its limits.
Granny Wang’s mind was filled with various thoughts, but none showed on her face; she simply kept a stern expression as she bargained.
Finally, they settled on a price of 950 coins, but payment would only be made after the stall owner delivered the item to their home. Carrying such a large object would be too conspicuous.
Afterward, Granny Wang browsed nearby stalls, selecting bowls, utensils, and kitchen tools needed for the Zao.
For other items, such as low stools, cattail-leaf fans, and other daily necessities, they went deeper inside to the third gate of Xiangguo Temple.
Even then, they hadn’t finished shopping.
And the real excitement was inside the temple, where the goods displayed became truly interesting.
Unlike the haphazard stalls spread across the ground near the temple gate, the courtyard inside was adorned with colorful curtains and open-air shelters. Most goods were placed on raised stalls, likely because the items were more expensive.
Especially those jeweled crowns and head ornaments—if they were placed on the ground, with people walking past and considering the dust and footsteps, and since they were meant to be worn on the head, wouldn’t that make people uncomfortable?
However, these expensive jewelry pieces were beyond Yuan Niang’s reach. Following Granny Wang, she persuaded Granny Wang to buy a box of Tooth powder paste, said to be made from boiled herbs. Yuan Niang could faintly detect the cool fragrance of mint, but the stall owner claimed it also contained Willow twig, mulberry branches, and other ingredients, all effective for cleaning teeth, much better than ordinary green salt.
“For the nobility, it’s more complex, often adding expensive spices like borneol and musk, but the results are excellent, leaving breath as fragrant as orchids,” the stall owner said with envy, as his goods were all cheap.
Although Yuan Niang had instigated the purchase by saying she liked it, Granny Wang, who had used green salt for many years, remembered the benefits of Tooth powder paste and promptly paid for it.
Next, they went to pick some brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones for Chen Kuo Cang—this time, Yuan Niang had no share.
Perhaps to compensate, when choosing bed curtains, Granny Wang only picked the cheapest plain curtain for Chen Kuo Cang. Yuan Niang not only could choose a bed curtain but also picked a curtain to hang on the arched doorway between the Chuang Ta and the room door. The latter was optional, usually a practice of wealthy households to allow better rest during midday naps—Granny Wang was clearly compensating Yuan Niang.
But she didn’t say it outright, only remarking that Xi Lang’s room was small and didn’t need such an item, as it would be cumbersome.
Yuan Niang didn’t care about these reasons; gaining practical benefits was what mattered.
So she chose a goose-yellow bed curtain embroidered with autumn osmanthus branches and a persimmon-colored curtain with auspicious patterns.
These two together weren’t cheap.
Later, they went to the fixed stalls of the temple nuns to buy some ordinary hair accessories like velvet flowers and ribbons. Buying from the nuns was much cheaper than outside, though the craftsmanship varied, requiring careful selection.
When Chen Yuanniang was first brought near the nuns’ stalls, she was startled and tried hard not to act improperly.
Granny Wang calmly began selecting items, even holding colored ribbons against Yuan Niang’s hair. Finally, she chose a madder-red ribbon with a pearl at the end and a lotus-root-colored ribbon with a small bell, along with several ordinary ribbons and velvet flowers.
The pearl-adorned one was dignified and pretty, suitable for wearing when meeting guests.
As for the ribbon with bells, it was even simpler. On bustling market days like today, or during festivals like the Beginning of Spring and New Year’s Day, one only needed to tie it around the head—it wouldn’t stand out, but the jingling sound would be there. Once she wandered off, Granny Wang would know, making it perfect for an active little rascal like Yuan Niang.
Once Granny Wang had made her selection, she paid promptly without haggling. Monks and nuns had a hard life, and the price was already much lower than the market rate, so there was no need to bargain.
After they had walked some distance, Yuan Niang couldn’t contain her curiosity. Clinging to Granny Wang’s hand, she asked, “Grandma, shouldn’t monks and nuns stay in temples reciting sutras and making offerings to Buddha? Why do they also set up stalls?”
Didn’t they say that monastics were free from worldly attachments and regarded wealth as dirt, something they dared not touch?
But she didn’t dare voice the latter part of her thought. After all, they were at Xiangguo Temple, and being young, she held a certain reverence for temples.
Granny Wang had long since seen through such matters and paid them no mind. She shot Yuan Niang a glare and retorted impatiently, “Becoming a monastic doesn’t turn you into an immortal. Don’t they still need to eat and drink?”
That made sense. Yuan Niang pondered it and found it quite reasonable.
Meanwhile, Granny Wang suddenly remembered she had forgotten to buy something. She took out fifty copper coins and handed them to Yuan Niang, telling her to take her brother to buy some snacks and meet her later at the stall run by the nuns.
The forgotten item was intended as a gift for Madam Hui from the Xu Family Medical Shop.
Granny Wang had just recalled that the woman had been so courteous, helping their family by passing messages and even cleaning. It would be too ungrateful not to give a gift, but something too expensive would also be inappropriate, lest others gossip and speculate. Striking the right balance was tricky, so Granny Wang took Madam Cen back to pick out a gift.
As for Yuan Niang and Xi Lang, while they were told to buy snacks on their own, they weren’t allowed to wander far—just to a few nearby stalls.
Yuan Niang stood in place, looking around, and soon had an idea. She looked down at her brother and said, “Let’s buy some preserved fruit!”
Because they were poor, even buying malt candy was a luxury. Yet, whenever they saved enough money, they would buy malt candy. It was impossible to grow tired of it, but when they had enough coins, they also wanted to try other treats.
Yuan Niang had only tasted preserved fruit once, when Wu Taoniang’s relatives returned to their hometown and brought some back.
At the time, to show off, Tao Niang had saved her share and divided it among her little friends, giving each half a piece.
Though her intention was to boast, it truly benefited them. Made from fruit, preserved fruit was even more delicious—sweet and tangy. That one bite had lingered in Yuan Niang’s memory for a long time.
As for which stall had the best preserved fruit, there was no need to worry. Over the past few days, while chatting idly with Xu Chenger, Yuan Niang had learned quite a bit.
At the Xiangguo Temple market, the preserved fruit from Daoist Li’s stall in front of the Great Buddha Hall was the most affordable and delicious.
It wasn’t that it was cheap—on the contrary, it was slightly more expensive than the common preserved fruit stalls.
They had both high-quality preserved fruit for the wealthy and more affordable options that commoners could splurge on, and even the latter was exceptionally tasty.
Yuan Niang, of course, chose the latter. But she didn’t need to say it aloud. As soon as she approached the stall, the hired attendant took one look at her clothing and understood. Instead of asking whether she wanted the good or the ordinary kind, he inquired, “Young lady, do you prefer sweeter or tangier ones? We also have salted ones, but few in the Eastern Capital are accustomed to that flavor.”
Without a doubt, Yuan Niang would definitely choose the sweeter ones. Most young ladies prefer sweet flavors, especially those from common households. Since they cannot compare to nobles who indulge in rich delicacies, they have fewer unique preferences and simply enjoy sweet and fatty foods.
The vendor was also just around twenty years old. Seeing Yuan Niang’s young age, he spoke even more kindly, “From the young lady’s perspective, how much would be appropriate to weigh?”
Yuan Niang weighed her purse hesitantly and said, “Twenty coins, is that okay?”
Twenty coins—it was indeed a bit little, but after all, their shop sold expensive goods.
Moreover, the young lady before him was pretty and young, and people felt goodwill upon first sight. So he promptly took a scale and weighed about seven or eight pieces, wrapped them in oil paper, tied them with a thin string, and handed them to Yuan Niang.
Chen Yuanniang was clear and proper, and her manners outside were never lacking. She thanked him crisply before leading her brother back.
After just two steps, unable to resist temptation, Yuan Niang opened the palm-sized oil paper package, gave one piece to her brother, and stuffed one into her own mouth.
Indeed, it was no wonder that Xu Chenger, who grew up in Bianjing, often praised these preserved fruits. The flavor was different, much better than the half piece Yuan Niang remembered. Upon entering the mouth, it first tasted like honey sweetness, followed by the aroma of plum, with a slight hint of sourness upon reflection, just enough to balance the sweetness and prevent it from becoming cloying. Moreover, when savored carefully, there seemed to be another fragrance, perhaps from other spices used in the preservation.
Coincidentally, while Yuan Niang was eating the preserved fruit praised by Xu Chenger, she glanced over and saw her and her mother.
They seemed to be following behind a noble lady.
Even if not a noble, she must be of distinguished origin. The fabric of her clothes was clearly much finer than that of Madam Hui and her daughter. Her hairpin was adorned with a thumbnail-sized tourmaline, accompanied by two maids and four attendants. Her every gesture carried the dignified air of an imperial family lady.
The two groups likely happened to meet by chance, as they faced each other, with Madam Hui continuously flattering and smiling apologetically.
Xu Chenger was also unusually restrained, standing properly and respectfully.
Although Xiangguo Temple was crowded, it wasn’t so busy that familiar people nearby couldn’t be recognized. Xu Chenger soon spotted Yuan Niang and signaled with her eyes to wait for her.
Then, the noble lady stood up. Madam Hui intended to follow behind, but Xu Chenger timidly said something. Madam Hui looked toward Yuan Niang’s direction and explained to the noble lady. Xu Chenger then parted from them and walked over to Yuan Niang.
Once beside Yuan Niang, Xu Chenger no longer showed the earlier propriety and shyness. She sighed deeply with relief and said gratefully, “Luckily I met you. Otherwise, following my mother to flatter others was really uncomfortable.”
Chen Yuanniang leaned closer and whispered, “What happened?”
Xu Chenger didn’t know much, only holding reverence on her face, “That lady is a sixth-rank official’s family member. I heard she’s also related to Vice Councilor Wei’s family. I don’t know how she found my father to consult for illness.”