The moment Shen Mingyu caught sight of her, she felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity, as if she had seen her somewhere before. Since she was almost sold out anyway and planned to pack up and head home early, she deliberately lowered her price: “If the lady wants them, how about taking them for twenty cash a catty?”
Jiang Lan glanced at Caihuan, who stepped closer and reminded her in a low voice, “Kumquats like these go for thirty cash in the South Market. That’s ten cash cheaper.”
Hearing this, Jiang Lan was already rather displeased. With prices so low, what kind of good goods could they possibly be?
“Are these even good fruits?” Caihuan picked up a kumquat to inspect it.
Seeing the other party’s interest, Shen Mingyu eagerly introduced them: “They’re good! The fruits from our stall come from the Jiangxi water transport. Look at how fresh the peel is and how translucent the color is. If the lady wants to take a closer look, I can peel one for you to taste.”
The girl was glib-tongued, and the more Jiang Lan listened, the more disdainful she felt, thinking her quite crafty. Perhaps the fruit she offered to peel had already been prepared beforehand.
“No need,” Jiang Lan said. “The skin of the kumquats looks fresh, but the flesh is the easiest part to spoil. A business like yours probably mixes a lot of bad fruits among the good ones, trying to fool people with cheap prices. Who knows how many people looking for a bargain have been conned.”
“People like you are truly poor and cunning.”
With a mocking snort, she contemptuously tossed out a handful of copper coins and departed with her maids and guards without once looking back.
Jiang Lan boarded the carriage, leaning against the soft pillow to massage her temples.
That girl was dressed in dingy, dusty clothes like a little beggar, and she was skinny and small, not even as well-nurtured as the maids in the estate. But for some reason, whenever she looked at her, she felt a flutter of palpitations—an indescribable sensation.
The summer carriage felt terribly stifling, and Caihuan pulled up the bamboo blind. Noticing the Marquis’s wife was still feeling unwell, she quickly lit the calming incense.
“That girl just now was quite pretty, and she looked to be about the same age as Yan’er.”
The Marquis’s wife suddenly dropped the remark out of nowhere.
Caihuan hadn’t expected the Marquis’s wife to offer praise.
Recalling the girl’s face in more detail, she massaged the Marquis’s wife’s legs and chimed in, “When the mistress was young, her beauty was already renowned throughout the capital; there are rarely any girls she would praise as pretty. Come to think of it, though the girl was dressed in dust, she was indeed truly pretty—she looked just like the mistress when she was young.”
At these words, the carriage interior fell silent for an instant.
The Marquis’s wife suddenly frowned: “What did you say?”
Startled, Caihuan lowered her head in a panic: “This servant spoke out of turn…”
“No, no!” The Marquis’s wife suddenly gripped her hand tightly: “Caihuan, turn the carriage around! Tell the driver to turn around right now, I’m going back to find her!”
Caihuan was terrified, having no idea what had happened to make the mistress so emotional. She had no choice but to order the driver to turn back. Once the carriage returned to the spot, she supported the Marquis’s wife as they hurried down.
That citrus stall had not yet sold out, and Jiang Lan had tossed a handful of copper coins before leaving.
At this moment, under the twilight, the dusty young woman was squatting on the ground, picking up the coins one by one. She wiped off the dust and tucked them into her pocket—that thin, small figure struck straight at Jiang Lan’s eyes, causing her chest to contract with a sudden, agonizing pain that left her unable to breathe.
Her daughter, her daughter! Her precious flesh and blood who had been wandering outside for sixteen years!
None of the maids and guards expected this, nor did they know what had happened to make the usually poised and pampered Marquis’s wife lose all composure! Trembling, she walked swiftly toward the young woman picking up coins, and before anyone could react, she pulled her tightly into her embrace.
On March 19th, Pei Shumin completed the five-day provincial examinations and bid farewell to the assembled scholars. Sharing the same sleeping mat for days had deepened their friendship, and upon parting, they wept tearfully, vowing not to forget one another if they should one day pass the imperial exams.
When two close scholar friends asked Pei Shumin how he felt he had done, he merely smiled faintly and shook his head.
One of them remarked, “Brother Pei, don’t be modest. Spending these days with you, anyone can tell you are exceptionally talented and will sooner or later rise above the crowd. If we have the chance to meet again in the future, we’ll see whether today’s words were true or not.”
By the time Pei Shumin left Jinling and returned to Baiyun Village, summer had already arrived.
Eager to return home, the journey still took him over a month. Whenever he missed his wife, he could only take out the sachet she had embroidered to look at. Now, he no longer needed to pine over objects in place of a person.
Just as Pei Shumin entered the village, he ran into Thin Pole.
Thin Pole was returning from the fields with a hoe slouched over his shoulder, looking quite surprised to see him: “Oh, back already? Heard you went to Jinling for the provincial exams. How’d you do?”
The two families had no dealings in daily life, and Pei Shumin didn’t like this man either, so he merely gave a bland, perfunctory reply.
However, Thin Pole grew somewhat irritated.
Though he heard the fellow might make something of himself after taking the exams and had intended to strike up a friendly conversation out of goodwill, he was still a fellow villager, yet the other treated him with such coldness that he felt he had lost face.
Seeing that the other was about to leave, Thin Pole leaned gloomily against a tree trunk and began speaking with sarcastic cool detachment: “Hey Pei, are you heading home? I reckon you don’t even know yet—your wife has run away!”
Pei Shumin’s stride faltered slightly.
He turned his head, revealing a pair of sharp, chillingly cold pupils.
Strange—it was clearly summer, yet under that single glance, Thin Pole felt a chill run through his entire body.
Still, he loathed the fellow named Pei to his core. What was so great about just being able to read and make some money? He felt nothing but disdain, so he brazenly hardened his scalp and continued: “I ain’t lying to you. If you don’t believe me, go back and check for yourself. Your wife said around Qingming time that she was looking for some relatives, and she left carrying her bundle. She hasn’t been back for over a month now. The neighbors in our village were worried and asked around everywhere, only to find out there was no such relative at all—she just flat out ran away!”
As he spoke, he saw Pei Shumin curve his lips into a smile—a brilliant smile, yet one that sent a freezing chill straight into a person’s bones.
Trembling, Thin Pole hugged his arms, feeling the man was acting like a lunatic. Not daring to stay any longer amidst such eerie, spine-chilling vibes, he grabbed his hoe and hurried home as if nothing had happened.
Pei Shumin withdrew his gaze. Not until the man had vanished completely, leaving only a stretch of golden-yellow farmland, did he turn with cold eyes, pick up his bundle, and walk the path toward home.
Pei Shumin pushed open the familiar courtyard gate. The yard was very clean, as if someone had swept it recently. Urgency filled his heart; after waiting three months, he was finally going to see her, and he called out “Yuniang” first.
The desolate wind blew, rustling the branches of the locust tree. There was no answer from either the yard or the house.
Pei Shumin figured that at this hour, she must have gone to help out at someone else’s house.
Very well, then he would just wait until Mingyu returned; there was no need to rush over these few moments.
Thinking of the wife he was about to meet, his heart warmed considerably, and he had already prepared what to say to her—he would tell her about the sights along the road, ask her how she had been at home, and take her to see the vast and magnificent Jinling.
Oh, and he would also tell her—about her true parentage. He would take her to the capital to find her parents. Mingyu had always longed for a home, and she would surely be overjoyed upon learning this. Though she might be timid and hesitant, it didn’t matter; he would be there to accompany her.
With this thought, a faint smile curved Pei Shumin’s lips.
He put down his bundle and went inside. Before resting even for two ticks of an hourglass, another thought struck him, and he turned back to the luggage.
Inside was a soft cloth wrap. He carefully drew it out and unfolded it: two butterfly-and-stone-embedded silver hairpins. He had bought these in Jinling; Mingyu liked jewelry, and she would definitely be happy upon seeing them.
Pei Shumin placed the hairpins into the dressing box, wanting to give her a surprise, but when he pulled the drawer open, he saw that the interior of the box was completely empty.
All her jewelry was gone—the jade, the silver, and even the wooden ones; not a single piece remained.
He stood frozen in a daze.