The moon hid behind dark clouds.
The filthy, chaotic west side of town was unusually quiet. Not even a single bark could be heard. The people here could barely keep themselves alive; how could they have extra food to feed a dog?
The Coughing Old Man poured the well-simmered meat porridge into a chipped bowl, found a wooden spoon, and walked tremblingly to his old wife’s bedside.
“Old wife, get up and have some porridge.”
The old woman on the kang bed opened her cloudy eyes, her breath as faint as a gossamer thread. “I’ve finally waited for this bite from you. I waited from dawn till dusk, and I was afraid I wouldn’t get to eat it before I died.”
“What are you saying, cough…”
The Coughing Old Man had started simmering the porridge the moment he returned with the meat. Now that he was old and his teeth were bad, he wanted to cook it until it was soft and mushy.
His cough seemed to have lessened after he bought the meat. The water in that bamboo tube was very sweet, it must have had sugar added to it, so he poured the rest into the meat porridge.
Adding sweet water should make it taste good, right?
The Coughing Old Man helped his wife, who was so thin she was just a bag of bones, sit up on the kang bed so she could eat.
It was just one bowl of porridge, not much at all, but the old woman ate it quickly, as if she hadn’t eaten in a very long time.
The Coughing Old Man watched her with rapt attention.
Only after she finished did she find the breath to speak. “Delicious. This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten in my life. I forgot to leave some for you.”
“Old wife, I’m sorry. I’ve wronged you, making you suffer with me.”
The Coughing Old Man suddenly choked up. Usually, even with a bowl of coarse rice porridge, his wife would leave half a mouthful for him. But today… He gripped his wife’s hand tightly, stopping himself from crying out loud.
Since when had even a bowl of meat porridge become an extravagant hope for them?
The old woman let the Coughing Old Man hold her hand, a smile appearing on her weathered, wrinkled face. “Don’t say you’re sorry anymore. A person lives for a lifetime. Whether you’re a high official or a beggar, in the end, everyone has to die, right?”
The Coughing Old Man had only harbored a suspicion in his heart, but hearing these words, he felt an indescribable emotion.
“Alright, let’s not talk about it. Today’s porridge was truly delicious. Me… I don’t regret following you in this life.”
The old woman smiled and closed her eyes.
The Coughing Old Man’s tears finally could not be held back and streamed down his face as he began to whimper softly.
But old wife, I regret it. I regret it so much! If I hadn’t been so stubborn and insisted on my own way back then, how could it have come to this, how could it…
“Old wife, wake up! Don’t leave me all alone!”
The old woman’s eyelids twitched slightly.
The Coughing Old Man’s vision was blurry with tears. He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, that he was hallucinating.
“Old wife?!”
“Old wife, old wife—”
The old woman on the kang bed pulled the quilt over her head. “Stop shouting. I just fell asleep and you woke me up. Are you trying to annoy me?”
Seeing this, the Coughing Old Man cried and then laughed, laughed and then cried.
The old woman was so annoyed she sat up. This old man wouldn’t even let her sleep in peace.
She wasn’t dead. As long as she wasn’t dead, everything was fine.
…
…
“What did you say? A painting by Fang Daru appeared at Qingfeng Lou?”
Chu Xiujie shot up from his stool. “Where’s the person? Have you found them?”
He had originally thought the Poetry Meeting was just a gimmick cooked up by the Liu family to make some money for Qingfeng Lou. After returning yesterday, he had even cursed himself for being a fool. It was clearly fake news.
He hadn’t expected that in just one day, there would be new developments.
Fang Daru’s paintings had vanished without a trace for ten years. How could one appear in the tiny Qingfeng Lou? Could it be a forgery?
At this thought, Chu Xiujie’s enthusiasm waned, and he sat back down. “Where did Qingfeng Lou get the painting from?”
“A little beggar delivered it and took ten taels of silver from Qingfeng Lou. This subordinate followed him but lost him.”
Chu Jiu kept his head down, not daring to look at his boss’s face.
He heard that his boss had been splashed with water by a widow when he went out today. It was over, it was all over. He was going to be caught in the crossfire.
Chu Xiujie scoffed, “Ten taels. It sounds like a fake. If it were a genuine painting by Fang Daru, a thousand taels wouldn’t be an exaggeration.”
Ten taels, and Qingfeng Lou actually bought it? And they had the nerve to spread the news that it was a Fang Daru painting? The people in this place have probably never even seen a real one.
Chu Jiu lowered his head. “It’s also possible that someone is spreading false news.”
“Boss, Boss, I figured it out! The one I met in the mountains wasn’t a fairy! If it were a fairy, I would have been eaten for sure. And I think he saved me!”
Wang Dagang ran in, drenched in sweat and as filthy as a wild man.
The stench of sweat from his body made Chu Xiujie stand up and back away. He spoke with disgust, “What, not a fairy, but a ghost? Did you just act out a drama where a mountain spirit saves a human? Are you going to pledge your life to it in return?”
Idiots. Every single one of them was an idiot.
Wang Dagang said anxiously, “Boss, I’m telling the truth! That person must have swiped my He Bao. Why didn’t I check it at the time? I’m so stupid.”
Chu Xiujie rolled his eyes. You’re just realizing that now?
“Boss, I’ll go look for him right now! Even if I have to dig three feet into the ground, I’ll find that person!” Wang Dagang clenched his fists and went out.
“Have Chu Liu and Chu Qi investigate.” Chu Xiujie didn’t want to stay in the room any longer. It was truly vexing.
By the time this idiot found what he was looking for, it would be too late.
…
…
Early in the morning, Ye Wan, sporting dark circles under her eyes, left the house with San Ya. The villagers heading to the fields saw them and started chattering.
“I heard from Old Sun that Lin An Yuan’s new wife is selling Digua at a stall in town. She’s quite capable. Look at that San Ya, it hasn’t been long and she’s already wearing new clothes and has a new hair tie.”
“Roasted Digua? That stuff is so dry it chokes you. Would anyone want it?”
“I’m not sure about that. If you’re so jealous, why don’t you go sell some too?”
The person who said this was just asking. He wouldn’t actually go himself. Selling things wasn’t that easy. You had to buy supplies and pay rent. What if you accidentally lost money?
“I say, old Wang family’s wife, why are you speaking up for Lin An Yuan’s family? Could it be you want to marry Da Ya to your Shitou?”
Aunt Wang was about to leave, but hearing this, she exploded with anger. “That Ye woman buys Digua from my house. If you keep spouting nonsense, I’ll tear your mouth apart.”
“Aiyo, I was just saying. That Da Ya is a good girl. How could Er Niu, such an honest boy…”
Just yesterday, Da Ya had been forced to cut her hair. How could these people’s words be so vicious?
Listening to this gossip, Ye Wan felt indignant. But the mouths were on other people’s faces; she couldn’t argue with them one by one.
She had to leave this place.
When the time came, if San Ya was willing to go with her and Lin An Yuan agreed, she would take her too.
As for Er Ya, forget it. She didn’t like adding to her own troubles.
As for Da Ya…
“Lin Da Ya, you can go home early today. Here is your monthly wage.”
In the Embroidery Workshop at the easternmost end of town, Da Ya, who had just arrived not long ago and was in the middle of embroidering, was called out by the shopkeeper to be paid her monthly wage.
Da Ya was stunned for a moment. Seeing the shopkeeper looking at her hair, she understood.
She knew that even if she begged, the shopkeeper wouldn’t let her stay. She said her thanks and spoke, “Shopkeeper, if you have a lot of work, you can call for me again.”
The shopkeeper was a woman in her early forties. Seeing that this young girl was clever and her embroidery was good, she felt it was a pity, but her hair was cut…
“Alright, you can go back.”
Da Ya came out of the work courtyard and glanced back at the Embroidery Workshop.
It was called an Embroidery Workshop, but it was just a courtyard with seven or eight rooms and four or five embroiderers, taking on work like handkerchiefs, clothes, and quilt covers from well-off families.
“Da Ya, Da Ya.”