If there was anything truly delightful about arriving in Tokyo, food was definitely one of them.
In just one morning, Zhao Chunmei and her servant had sampled over a dozen different snacks, almost as if they were indulging in a post-crisis spending spree.
Among these, the most unforgettable was a pastry called “Yunying.” According to the shopkeeper, it was made by mixing lotus root, water chestnuts, taro, and other ingredients, steaming them with lean meat, mashing them into a paste, then blending them with honey and spices. After cooling, it was sliced into long, paper-thin pieces. Because the final shape resembled snow-white flower petals, it was named Yunying.
This dish was not only delicious and beautiful but also quite elegant, truly opening the eyes of a country bumpkin like Zhao Chunmei.
Chewing on a few sour dates, the young girl strolled leisurely down the street, chatting idly with the person beside her.
“In Kaifeng Prefecture, you can find everything. As long as you have money, you don’t need to prepare anything—even washing your face with hot water can be delivered to your door for just two or three coins. The night markets in the city don’t close until the third watch, and they reopen as early as the fifth watch. Every morning, the head monks who announce the dawn walk along the streets with iron clappers, knocking on doors. Once you hear that sound at home, it’s about time to go out…” Having enjoyed quite a few treats with Zhao Chunmei, Zhao Xiaoying’s servant patted his round belly contentedly as he enthusiastically introduced the city to the young girl.
Zhao Chunmei listened attentively, knowing these were valuable pieces of information essential for living comfortably in Tokyo. When she heard the word “home,” she was struck by a thought and asked, “I’d like to rent a place to stay. Do you know where I should register?”
The servant laughed upon hearing this, looking quite pleased with himself. “You’ve come to the right person, miss.”
Due to the dense population and high urbanization during the Song dynasty, housing prices in the capital had skyrocketed. Not only ordinary people but even many officials could only “gaze longingly at houses.” Su Shi’s younger brother, Su Zhe, served the court diligently for decades but never managed to buy a house in the capital. Finally, at the age of seventy, unable to bear his son’s complaints, he sold a collection of his beloved books and bought a house in Xuchang near Kaifeng. He later lamented, “In my old age, I overestimated myself,” for becoming a mortgage slave at such an advanced age.
As a result, the rental market naturally flourished. Not only merchants and commoners engaged in this business, but even the imperial clan and temples participated. The servant had another reason for laughing.
Perhaps anticipating such a situation, the Song dynasty’s affordable housing system was also highly developed. The court established the “Dianzhaiwu” (Storehouse and Housing Bureau) to provide relatively cheap housing for ordinary people, with a room costing only about five hundred coins per month. And currently, Zhao Xiaoying was in charge of managing the Dianzhaiwu.
Eager to show off to the young lady, the servant said proudly, “I’ll speak to my master later and make sure to pick a spacious room for you.”
To his surprise, Zhao Chunmei responded seriously, “No, that won’t do. Since it’s affordable housing, it’s meant for those who are truly in need. I still have some money left and am not struggling to get by. If I were to take someone else’s spot, wouldn’t that be a sin? Please just let me know about other rental options.”
The servant was taken aback for a moment, then set aside his earlier casual attitude and said with admiration, “You are truly righteous, miss. I apologize for my presumptuousness. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to handle this matter properly for you.”
He secretly marveled that despite being an orphaned girl with her own hardships, she still possessed a heart that cared for the suffering and poor. In this regard, she truly lived up to being of the same true dragon bloodline as his master!
The two continued into the city, heading straight for the largest housing agency—what served as a real estate agent in the Song dynasty. Having revealed their status in advance, the person in charge was extremely enthusiastic and immediately took them to view several nearby properties.
Zhao Chunmei took an instant liking to a small, single-courtyard house. Not only was it fully furnished, but it also had a well in the middle of the courtyard, making daily life much more convenient. When she inquired about the price, it was three strings of cash per month. Though somewhat expensive, it was still affordable. She promptly paid three months’ rent and moved her belongings into her new home.
With her now settled, the servant had to return to report back.
Before he left, despite his protests, Zhao Chunmei insisted on giving him some money as thanks for his assistance over the past two days. She also promised to visit her granduncle’s residence once she was properly settled.
Having been treated with both generosity and respect, the servant was highly satisfied. Upon his return, he praised her extensively in front of Zhao Xiaoying.
Of course, that was a matter for later and need not be discussed now.
Back to Zhao Chunmei: after tidying up her luggage, she began cleaning the entire house—a habit she had developed since crossing over. Through strenuous labor, she could better clear her mind and assess her surroundings.
It was only when dusk approached that she finished cleaning. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, Zhao Chunmei looked around with satisfaction. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, this would likely be her home for the next year.
She recalled her previous life, born in a small third-tier city where she even attended university nearby. She had planned to seek work in Beijing, Shanghai, or Guangzhou after graduation, but was diagnosed with cancer instead. What followed were endless surgeries and prolonged treatment—she never even left her province before she died. Now, after crossing over, she had a sizable house in the capital, albeit rented. Still, it felt like the journey hadn’t been in vain.
With this thought, Zhao Chunmei stood up to take stock of her current assets.
The family she had traveled with had carried thirty to forty taels of broken silver in total. As the sole surviving “daughter,” Zhao Chunmei naturally inherited it. However, she had no intention of spending this money. Apart from purchasing offerings, she planned to light several eternal lamps at a temple as a way to pray for their souls.
Additionally, when Wu Song had extorted the Ximen Family, he obtained eight hundred taels of silver in total. Before leaving, Zhao Chunmei took half, exchanging it for four gold bars that she carried on her person. Along with the gold belt and three hundred strings of copper coins bestowed by the current emperor, as well as an ox cart, bolts of cloth, medicinal herbs… it was no exaggeration to say that in this era, she could already be called a wealthy woman.
If she spent frugally, this money could likely support her for a lifetime. However, Zhao Chunmei hadn’t forgotten the vow she had once made. She hoped to make a name for herself in the Great Song—not only to live comfortably herself but also to help as many people as possible before the impending catastrophe. To achieve this, she had to redouble her efforts.
“I need to find a livelihood in Tokyo, but what should I do?” During her illness in her previous life, Zhao Chunmei had read many leisure books, acquiring a jumble of knowledge that seemed useless at the time but held great potential after crossing over. However, this was still a feudal society after all. Many things couldn’t be achieved through hard work alone—she would have to choose carefully.
Perhaps because she had exhausted herself from the earlier labor, Zhao Chunmei found her eyelids growing heavy as she pondered. Drowsily, she slumped onto the bed and fell asleep. Just before losing consciousness, she seemed to hear the sound of a woman sobbing.
Who could be crying so late at night?
Never mind, she thought. Sleep first, deal with it later.
…
Early morning, Sang Family Entertainment House in the southern street.
People of the Song dynasty enjoyed leisure and entertainment, and entertainment houses became popular venues for relaxation. In this place alone, there were at least fifty different types of performances, with the largest capable of accommodating thousands of people. Moreover, Sang Family Entertainment House was considered the holy land for storytellers across all of Tokyo.
“Storytelling” was a commercial rap-like performance art that flourished in entertainment houses, somewhat similar to later-day stand-up comedy but with slight differences. To attract more audience applause, performers often switched roles during their narratives, alternating between “telling the story” and “acting out the characters,” creating a lively atmosphere.
Today, the storyteller on stage was recounting a tale of supernatural disturbances caused by sorcery. As he reached the climax, he imitated the righteous protagonist, shouting with resounding force: “I am the Great Wisdom Immortal from the Great Luo Heaven, here under the decree of the Purple Sun True Lord to capture you! Surrender at once!”
The audience below responded enthusiastically, erupting into thunderous applause. Amid the cheers, a frowning young woman in the corner stood out conspicuously.
A young child at the same table blinked his eyes, gazing longingly at the sweet cakes beside him.
The young woman noticed and forced a smile, pushing the pastries toward the child. “Here, you can have them. I don’t want them.”
To her surprise, the child politely declined, saying in a childish voice, “My father told me not to take things from others.”
The boy looked no more than three or four years old, utterly adorable. Under normal circumstances, the young woman would have teased him playfully, but today she was in no mood for it.
Zhao Chunmei sighed once again at her misfortune. After all she had been through since crossing over, she had finally settled down, only to realize that the house she lived in was not quite right.
Ever since moving in, she had often heard inexplicable sobbing of a woman at night while trying to sleep. The crying wasn’t constant but came and went intermittently. Sometimes, she could hear it while lying in bed, but it would vanish as soon as she stood up.
At first, Zhao Chunmei tried to reassure herself that it might be an auditory hallucination from exhaustion—she should trust science, as there were no ghosts in this world. But then she suddenly froze, realizing that according to the current setting, she herself was likely seen as a ghost in the eyes of others…
Besides, having crossed over, she could no longer remain a staunch materialist.
This situation persisted for two or three days, leaving her restless and unable to eat or sleep properly. As soon as dawn broke, she felt too uneasy to stay indoors and ventured out for breakfast and a stroll to clear her mind. Originally intending to observe local customs, she chose the liveliest entertainment house to listen to storytelling. Unfortunately, the storyteller happened to pick a tale involving supernatural and eerie elements, leaving her feeling unsettled and on edge.
She called for the waiter to settle the bill, deciding she couldn’t stay any longer. But just as she stood up, she noticed something amiss with the child at her table. His once fair face had turned flushed, and he was flailing his arms wildly. Glancing at the fruit peel on the floor, she understood—he had likely choked on something.
The entertainment district was bustling with people, and soon, not only she but many others around noticed the situation. Faced with such a young child, everyone exclaimed in alarm—some rushed to fetch a doctor, others patted the child’s back repeatedly, and some offered water, hoping it would help the child swallow…
Seeing the chaotic crowd, Zhao Chunmei shook her head. She turned around, picked up the child, and sat him on her bent thigh, tilting his body slightly forward before applying forceful pressure.
To onlookers, this action seemed rather undignified, and the young child was clearly distressed by it. Many bystanders stepped forward to intervene. However, after a few repetitions, a soft “pop” was heard as a longan pit was expelled from the child’s mouth. Immediately afterward, his condition visibly stabilized.
Just then, a panicked male voice came from outside, “Xun’er! Xun’er, what’s wrong with you! Make way, my son is in there!”
Seeing the guardian arrive, Zhao Chunmei knew there was nothing more for her to do. She quietly slipped away while no one was paying attention.
Feeling pleased with herself for having done another good deed, the young woman spent the rest of the day wandering around the city. By the time she returned home in the evening, she had made up her mind. Having spent so much money, giving up this house was out of the question.
So, even if it truly was a ghost, she would try to reason with it. Perhaps they could find common ground as fellow sufferers and strive for peaceful coexistence.
That night, Zhao Chunmei kept her eyes wide open like copper bells, pressed against the inner side of the bed, not daring to relax for a moment.
Finally, just before the fifth watch of the night, the mournful female voice echoed in her ears once more.
Zhao Chunmei successfully caught it and listened carefully. Gradually, a suspicious frown creased her brow.
Why did it feel like the crying was coming from the other side of the wall…