The night in Bianjing was a sea of brilliant lights, dazzling as bright as day.
The streets were bustling with crowds, filled with laughter and cheerful chatter, creating a lively and harmonious atmosphere.
Wen Ranran packed the braised dish and handed it to the customer, her eyes curving into a smile as she said, “Here you go, please come again next time.”
Nearby, Song Da Niang stood on her tiptoes, glancing at the endless stream of customers in front of Wen Ranran’s stall, and clicked her tongue twice with a laugh. “Wen Xiaoniangzi’s business is getting more and more prosperous!”
“Absolutely!” chimed in a familiar regular. “On Wen Xiaoniangzi’s first day, a bunch of people were complaining about the prices. But now? They come every day to buy without a single complaint.”
A man at the front, already holding his braised dish, couldn’t resist taking a bite of the dried tofu and grinned. “The ingredients in this braised dish are substantial—it really isn’t expensive at all.”
“This stuff is perfect for munching on while watching operas or listening to storytelling. So flavorful!”
“Exactly! Yesterday, when I went to listen to storytelling, I saw everyone had this braised dish on their tables, eating like it was the best thing ever! So I made sure to ask where it was from and came today to try some.”
Wen Ranran nodded to herself as she listened to their chatter. They had truly discovered the ideal way to enjoy spicy lu.
Braised duck delicacies—the ultimate companion for binge-watching!
With the night market bustling with customers, Wen Ranran was busy packing orders, collecting money, greeting patrons, and explaining the food. For a moment, she felt overwhelmed, wishing she had an extra pair of hands.
Amid the rush, she pondered what snacks she could promote at restaurants or teahouses. Ordinary ones wouldn’t do—she needed something novel and attention-grabbing.
Customers at restaurants and teahouses, especially the latter, were hardly short on money. Most teahouse patrons were refined scholars. If she could catch their eye and inspire them to compose a couple of lines of poetry, it would be like getting a celebrity endorsement!
Now that would be priceless!
Lost in thought, Wen Ranran suddenly caught a whiff of pungent alcohol.
The man who approached had a lecherous tone, puffy and bruised around the eyes. His murky gaze roamed brazenly over the young woman’s soft, fair skin, stirring a restless heat within him.
He chuckled darkly. “Little lady, how much for this braised dish?”
Song Da Niang and the others nearby tensed, recognizing the man as Zhang Si, a notorious ruffian in the market. He and his gang were known for their vices—drinking, gambling, and womanizing—and few dared to cross them.
The strong smell of alcohol wafted over. Wen Ranran glanced up at him but remained silent, instead focusing on packing the Bo Zai Gao and braised dish for another customer and handing it over.
Her dismissive attitude angered the hooligans. One of them immediately stepped forward, slamming his hand heavily on her cart. “Hey! My brother Zhang is talking to you. Are you deaf?”
“Mind your tone with the pretty lady!” Zhang Si pretended to scold him, shooing him back. “Don’t scare her.”
He then grinned at Wen Ranran. “Little lady, how about joining us for a drink? I’ll buy up all your stock. What do you say?”
“Yeah! Have a drink with us! Have a drink!”
The hooligans around Zhang Si jeered and egged him on. One bold enough reached out to grab Wen Ranran.
In response, she snatched the rolling pin beside her and struck him hard twice on the head. “Get lost!”
The thug staggered, vision blurring from the blows. Only when the sharp pain surged through his skull did he clutch his head and howl in agony.
“You dare hit someone!” Zhang Si stared at his companion’s miserable state, never expecting this delicate-looking young woman to be so fierce. He rolled up his sleeves and cursed, “If I don’t teach you a lesson today, I won’t be called Zhang!”
He waved his hand, and the surrounding thugs rushed forward.
Wen Ranran threw aside the rolling pin and grabbed the shovel she kept under the cart for self-defense. Just as she was about to swing it, she saw a middle-aged man in a long gown charging over like the wind, grappling with the thugs while shouting, “You bastards! How dare you bully my San Yatou? Have you all grown tired of living?”
“Third Uncle?” Wen Ranran stared blankly at the suddenly appeared Wen Junliang, calling out softly.
Wen Junliang took a solid punch while distracted, but upon hearing her call him, he responded, “Third Uncle is here, San Yatou. Don’t be afraid.”
Watching her usually unreliable nominal uncle fighting desperately for her, Wen Ranran felt her eyes grow moist and warm uncontrollably.
But now was not the time for sentimentality.
She swung the shovel, striking Zhang Si hard on the back of his head. Zhang Si collapsed immediately, his head a bloody mess.
“Whoa!” An exclamation erupted from the crowd: Serves him right! Picked the wrong person to mess with!
Wen Ranran blinked without hesitation as she struck several more people with the shovel, feeling more convinced with each swing that bringing it had been the right decision.
The saying “an inch longer, an inch stronger” was truly a truth passed down through countless generations of practical experience!
Wen Junliang swung his fists, but two hands were no match for multiple attackers, and he gradually fell behind. His clothes were torn to shreds, his face bruised purple from several punches, blood trickling from his nose and the corner of his mouth, and his abdomen ached terribly.
With a final desperate effort, he knocked down the last remaining thug nearby. Gasping for breath, he took a moment to recover, rubbing his injured shoulder as he staggered around. Grimacing, he said, “San Yatou, don’t be afraid. Third Uncle has taken care of them all…”
As Wen Junliang turned around, he saw his seemingly delicate niece standing with one foot on a thug, swinging the shovel to knock down another who had just gotten up, without a single scratch on her.
He froze, swallowing the rest of his words: She’s making me look useless and redundant…
“Third Uncle, are you alright?” Wen Ranran walked over, carefully examining his injuries.
Wen Junliang gritted his teeth and waved dismissively, putting on a nonchalant act: “What could possibly be wrong with me? It was nothing.”
His mouth was truly stubborn…
Wen Ranran pretended not to see him sucking in sharp breaths from the pain: “Thank goodness you were here, Third Uncle. By the way, how did you end up here?”
“I was just passing by,” Wen Junliang said, quickly adding, “Don’t get the wrong idea—I definitely wasn’t following you on purpose!”
“Oh—” Wen Ranran looked meaningfully at her uncle’s poorly concealed lie and smiled knowingly. “Of course, Third Uncle absolutely didn’t follow me here on purpose!”
Wen Junliang: “…”
“What’s all this commotion! Break it up, everyone!”
A few authoritative shouts came from the crowd. The onlookers, seeing the official uniforms, quickly stepped aside to make way for the officers.
Song Da Niang, recognizing the City Patrol Supervisor’s officers, hurried over to complain tearfully: “Officers, Zhang Si and his gang are causing trouble again!”
A young officer glanced down at the groaning, writhing thugs scattered on the ground and sneered: “Well! You were full of energy after getting out of jail the other day. How come you’re all laid out now?”
The middle-aged man leading the team frowned: “Haven’t I taught you better than this?”
Wen Ranran looked up at the sound and found the middle-aged man before her somewhat familiar: Wasn’t this the father of the little girl she had rescued some time ago? He seemed to be called Yu Shu, the leader of these City Patrol Supervisor officers.
His eyes suddenly brightened as he gazed at her, clearly recognizing her as well.
Seeing Wen Ranran, Yu Shu’s stern expression softened slightly. He stepped forward and clasped his hands in salute: “Last time, young lady, you left in such a hurry that I didn’t have the chance to ask your name or where you live. For such a great kindness, I ought to bring my family to your home to express our gratitude properly.”
Wen Ranran quickly waved her hand: “It was just a small effort, hardly worth troubling you, sir.”
Yu Shu was the Commandant of the City Patrol Supervisor, responsible for all matters in the streets and markets. Such an important figure actually speaking kindly to Wen Ranran made the onlookers murmur among themselves—this Wen Xiaoniangzi usually kept such a low profile, yet she had such powerful backing.
Wen Junliang, standing nearby, kicked Zhang Si on the ground: “You know each other? Perfect, take them all away!”
Zhang Si and his gang were familiar faces to the City Patrol Supervisor, frequently spending time in jail. Knowing this was likely another of their usual offenses, Yu Shu didn’t ask further and had them taken away.
The surrounding crowd applauded and cheered:
“Preying on a young lady just because she was alone—what scum!”
“Exactly! If her uncle hadn’t arrived in time, who knows what might have happened!”
“These troublemakers should be locked up for life and never released!”
Vendors who had long suffered from their harassment came forward, embellishing the recent events and seizing the opportunity to report Zhang Si’s history of eating and taking without payment. They hoped to ride Wen Ranran’s momentum to ensure Zhang Si’s gang received severe punishment.
With the matter resolved, the crowd gradually dispersed. Wen Ranran busied herself packing up her stall, intending to take Third Uncle to the medical clinic.
Wen Junliang approached, seeing the unsold Braised Dish and Bo Zai Gao, and stopped her: “San Yatou, you haven’t sold everything yet. Why are you packing up already?”
“How could I focus on business now?” Wen Ranran glanced at the blood at the corner of his mouth. “We’re going to the clinic.”
“To the clinic? Why!” Wen Junliang’s voice rose sharply. “How much would that cost? How many items would you need to sell to earn that back?”
His agitated speech tugged at his injuries, making him gasp in pain.
Wen Ranran pressed her lips tightly together, lowering her head without speaking. Her eyes burned, but her hands continued working. After a long pause, she said softly, “Third Uncle, you need to see a doctor.”
Wen Junliang’s lips quivered. He bent down to peer at her—the usually cheerful young girl now had red-rimmed eyes, her voice even carrying a hint of tears. He quickly softened his tone: “I’m fine, really. Why waste money?”
Yu Shu glanced over, thought for a moment, and approached: “The City Patrol Supervisor has physicians who specialize in treating these kinds of injuries. Why not come with me to our headquarters?”
For such wounds, the City Patrol Supervisor’s doctors were likely more experienced than those at ordinary clinics.
After brief consideration, Wen Ranran didn’t hesitate and quickly finished packing: “Thank you, Lord Yu.”
A young officer waiting nearby came over with a smile, taking the cart from her hands: “Young lady, please help your uncle. I’ll push the cart for you.”
Wen Ranran initially wanted to refuse, but seeing Wen Junliang limping, she could only agree: “Then I’ll trouble you, sir.”
“Please don’t call me ‘sir’—just call me Acheng!”
Wen Ranran and the others were walking toward the City Patrol Supervisor. Supporting Wen Junliang, she suddenly caught a whiff of a sweet fragrance and instinctively turned to look, spotting a pastry shop.
She stared at it all the way until they had passed it, still craning her neck for a final glance.
Lost in thought, Wen Ranran abruptly heard a voice beside her: “Craving pastries? Third Uncle will buy you some in a few days!”
“Where would you get the money?”
Wen Junliang smiled mysteriously: “Mother still has a pair of earrings. I’ll ask for them and buy pastries—we’ll split them half and half.”
Wen Ranran: “…”