“Exactly! This petty thief must be new here, not a native of Pingjiang Fu. Daring to steal right in front of Lord Lu—looks like he’s itching for a new skin.”
The young man working at the rope shop by the dock was efficient, carefully sorting bundles of hemp rope while managing to praise the crimson figure.
“Look at our Lord Lu—even catching a petty thief, he does it himself.”
Before he could finish his sentence, the pickpocket who had snatched the money pouch was already kicked to the ground by that figure. Two guards beside him swiftly stepped forward, and in the blink of an eye, the thief was handcuffed and taken away.
A money pouch embroidered with peonies sliced through the mist, thrown from a distance and landing precisely in the arms of its owner.
“Oh dear, my wife just embroidered this for me. Even if I lose the money, I can’t lose this pouch.”
The owner clutched the pouch tightly, gazing at the departing figure. Stroking his thick beard, he said firmly, “As a fur trader, I travel to many places, but I rarely see such a young official.”
He had caught a glimpse of the face—though not clearly—but he could tell it was actually a young man!
“That’s right.”
The young shop assistant had worked at this rope shop for five or six years and saw Lord Lu every day. Seeing the out-of-towner’s curiosity, he couldn’t help but explain, “Our Lord Lu is only eighteen this year, the second child in his family.”
He hastily took a gulp of tea and continued, “In our Pingjiang Fu, everyone respects him. Lord Lu holds the rank of Metropolitan Patrol and Inspection Commissioner, overseeing patrol and inspection affairs along the Zhenze coast and the county’s waterways and roads. He commands over a thousand robust soldiers, specializing in capturing thieves and protecting trade routes. Speaking of the autumn two years ago, when the ‘Black Wind Gang’ in Zhenze looted merchant ships, Lord Lu personally led his troops, advancing by both land and water from Wujiang County. In less than ten days, they wiped out the bandit lair and even captured the gang leader alive!”
“…When you come to our Pingjiang Fu, you can enjoy yourself freely. The public security here is excellent! With Lord Lu around, common folks can sleep soundly at night!”
He had likely said this to out-of-towners countless times, not only delivering it eloquently and coherently but also without pausing for breath.
Two years ago?
Wei Jinyun steadied herself, squeezed among the crowd watching the commotion, and listened to the shop assistant’s grand speech.
At sixteen, he was already suppressing bandits, while at sixteen, she was still lamenting, “Alas, how perilous and high!” or thinking, “What excuse can I use today to skip running drills?” or “Which gate should I exit from, and how many seconds should I run to get today’s limited-edition fried chicken legs in the cafeteria?”
“You’ve said so much, but we still don’t know Lord Lu’s honorable name.”
The shop assistant finished the tea in his bowl and set it down on the table. “Listen well. Our Lord Lu, who makes bandits cry and thieves tremble, is surnamed Lu, with the given name ‘Lan.’”
As soon as he finished speaking, the listeners applauded appreciatively, making the young assistant beam with pride.
“Don’t want to work anymore? Change careers and become a storyteller.”
The rope shop manager, having heard the assistant’s storyteller-like spiel, came out of the shop and tapped him on the head with a finger.
“Ouch!” he exclaimed, shrinking his neck and returning to moving ropes.
The passengers watching the scene chuckled among themselves. Whether it was due to the assistant’s earlier words or not, the passengers disembarking afterward began to move in an orderly manner, no longer pushing and shoving.
Wei Jinyun and the others had their travel permits inspected once more before squeezing through Chang Gate and slowly stepping into Pingjiang Fu city.
The intermittent plum rains had ceased by si chu, and faint light spilled through the gloomy clouds.
“Wei Fuling, slow down—be careful not to slip.”
Wei Fuling was running ahead of the group, her feet pattering across the bluestone slabs. Pingjiang Fu was a city of many waterways and bridges, connecting one place to another. She dashed up one arched bridge and charged down another curved one, thoroughly enjoying herself.
Yet she insisted on carrying a bundle for the others. Wang Qiulan couldn’t dissuade her, so she spread out a square cloth, packed two sets of clothes for the sisters, tied it into a small bundle, and let Wei Fuling carry it on her back.
Wei Fuling beamed with pride, boasting that she too could help her grandmother and sister carry luggage.
Wei Fuqu, however, didn’t have as much restless energy as her younger sister. The red bean paste steamed buns her grandmother had made had been eaten up during the past few days of travel by boat, but she still helped by carrying the now-empty basket.
She secretly took half a bag of flour from Wei Jinyun’s carrying basket, placed it inside her own, covered it with a cloth, and even artfully arranged a nearly wilted lotus flower on top as a disguise.
Wei Jinyun saw it.
And pretended not to.
Her little sister was doting on her.
It had been nearly forty years since Wang Qiulan last returned to Pingjiang Fu. Her gaze lingered on the surroundings as she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.
The road was still the same road, and this arched bridge was one she had crossed countless times with her elder sister in her youth. They had counted how many bluestone slabs there were along this stretch and scooped up a basketful of river shrimp under the bridge.
Everything seemed unchanged, yet somehow, everything felt different.
Many new shops had opened, and even the few that remained were staffed by unfamiliar shopkeepers calling out to customers.
Colorful banners fluttered in the breeze as shop assistants enthusiastically beckoned from under the eaves, while streams of customers flowed past like woven threads.
All sorts of aromas, mingled with the steam of freshly baked goods, wafted from shops and the gaps of steamers at small stalls.
“Freshly baked crab shell yellow pastries, hot off the stove! Would you like savory fillings like minced pork, crab roe, or shrimp, or sweet ones like sugar, red bean paste, or jujube paste? Our flaky pastry is a family recipe passed down for generations. Just three copper coins for a taste—buy some as snacks for the young and old at home, and everyone will praise your good taste!”
Small sesame cakes puffed up as they baked in stacked stone ovens. The shopkeeper deftly picked up a few with bamboo tongs and stuffed them into oiled paper, scattering sesame seeds all over the table.
“Sour plum drink, litchi paste, perilla water, red bean soup—just two coins for a bowl that’ll fill you up! Come have a bowl!”
“Step inside and take a look, honored guest! Feel the texture of our Wu silk—smooth as spring water, bright as moonlight. Wearing it is both dignified and cool, perfectly suiting your distinguished appearance! Whether you’re making a ruqun robe, a pao gown, a beizi jacket, or a half-sleeve garment, our fabric can be tailored for it, and the price is fair!”
Another shop refused to be outdone, shouting from across the way, “Take a look at our water-silk brocade embroidered with gold thread! Making new clothes for festivals or adding a garment for your wife or husband—that’s what we call refined and dignified! Our goods are praised by loyal customers, and we treat everyone fairly, young and old! How about picking out a piece of fabric first?”
The chorus of hawking along the way left Wei Jinyun momentarily stunned. It seemed that to establish oneself in the bustling market of Pingjiang Fu, mere shouting wasn’t enough—one had to shout with vigor.
Everyone here had a silver tongue.
The cries of hawkers, the sounds of carriages and horses, and the faint strains of pipa and stringed music filled the air endlessly. Pedestrians were too numerous to count—some dressed in fine clothes, others in sedan chairs or horse-drawn carriages…
“Wei Fuling, come over here. Let’s have a bowl of soup noodles.”
Wang Qiulan stopped before a noodle shop's banner. The characters "Qian's Noodle Shop" on the banner had faded, and the edges of the cloth had yellowed. Unlike the earlier shop with its hawking staff, this one had no attendants outside.
Yet tables and chairs spilled from inside the shop onto the street, packed with travelers and foot porters.
They waited for the time it takes an incense stick to burn before a small table was freed.
Wei Jinyun deftly set out bowls and poured vinegar for the two sisters, prompting Wang Qiulan to joke whether she had dreamed of coming here before, as she seemed so familiar with the place.
They had only been on the boat for a few days, swaying and rocking along the canal, which was difficult to navigate during the rainy season. Even though Wei Jinyun had tried various ways to prepare food, the two sisters had spent the journey feeling dizzy and hadn't eaten much.
"A bowl of noodles will settle your stomach."
Wei Jinyun rubbed Wei Fuling's head as she looked around restlessly. "Grandmother said the shop hasn't changed in decades, so it probably won't be ready to open immediately once we get inside. We'll need to tidy up properly. Let's eat out here first."
Wang Qiulan's shop was nearby, just around the corner. She had grown up eating noodles from this noodle shop and never imagined it would still be here decades later.
She had intended to head straight back to her shop, but couldn't resist stopping here.
An attendant lifted the bamboo curtain to the kitchen and brought out several steaming bowls of noodles.
Faintly visible behind him was the stove, where a pot bubbled noisily. The chef flung dough onto the countertop, and silver-thin noodles were shaken loose into the boiling water as he stretched them.
"Everything's getting more expensive these days, yet your noodle shop has stayed the same for decades. Old Qian, aren't you afraid of losing money?"
A customer mixed his noodles and laughed loudly.
"Not losing money, just making a small profit," replied the chef kneading the dough inside. "Still relying on you all to keep the place going. Everyone's having a hard time making ends meet."
Several customers chatted and laughed, and the shop was filled with the sound of slurping.
Noodles in Pingjiang Fu emphasized toppings. Snow-white noodles lay in the bowls, with brightly colored toppings served in several small dishes.
Shredded eel was braised until translucent, braised pork had a perfect mix of lean and fatty meat, fried eggs were served on a separate plate, and there was also a bowl of shelled shrimp.
They ordered three bowls: one each for Wei Jinyun and Wang Qiulan, while the two sisters shared a single bowl in smaller dishes.
"I want a big bowl too," Wei Fuling said, using her spoon to pick shrimp from her bowl while eyeing Wei Jinyun's large bowl.
"You always have eyes bigger than your stomach," Wei Fuqu said, splitting her fried egg in half and giving one portion to Wei Fuling. "Finish this half-bowl and the braised pork before you say anything else."
"Sister Qu is so mean," Wei Fuling puffed out her cheeks, picked out the fatty parts of the braised pork, and scooped the lean meat into her bowl. "I won't give you any meat."
Wei Jinyun choked on her roasted barley tea, laughing silently.
Wei Fuling loved fried eggs, while Wei Fuqu disliked fatty meat.
Though the broth was clear and bright, it was simmered with chicken bones and marrow bones, making it incredibly flavorful.
The noodles were cooked perfectly, each strand chewy and springy. The aroma of wheat blended with the tender braised pork, melting on the tongue.
A spoonful of river shrimp mixed in added a springy texture and the savory freshness of the broth. With each slurp of noodles and soup, warmth spread through the body, quickly dispelling the discomfort from the past few days on the boat.
"Delicious," Wei Jinyun took a sip of the soup, her eyebrows lifting with delight. "No wonder Grandmother couldn't walk past this place once she arrived."
"Delicious, delicious."
Wei Fuling bit into her fried egg and looked up. "So Grandma cried because it was so delicious."
Wei Fuqu handed her a handkerchief.
Wang Qiulan laughed through her tears.
The taste of the noodle shop had remained unchanged for decades, stirring a sense of nostalgia and melancholy in her. She did not regret bringing her granddaughters back here in the slightest.
Qian's Noodle Shop was honest and reliable, with most of its customers being foot porters, so the portions were generous. Wei Fuling couldn't finish her half-bowl of noodles in the end, exclaiming that she would definitely finish it next time.
The four of them paid twenty wen and left with full stomachs.
Following the address on the deed, the grandmother and her three granddaughters finally stood before the shop.
The location was excellent.
Situated on the main street in front of Tianqing Temple, though not at the prime central spot but slightly to the side, the scenery was breathtaking. The nearby Lindun River and Bifengfang River intertwined as they flowed past.
To the left was a stationery shop with a strong scent of ink, frequented by well-dressed customers. To the right was a bustling cooked food shop, its enticing aromas wafting through the air.
Wei Jinyun stared at the shopfront for a long time, realizing it seemed remarkably close to where her grandmother's old-fashioned pastry shop would stand a thousand years later.
This was Guanqian Street!
It was truly a pity that such a prime location had been left abandoned for so long.
The heavy wooden door was mottled and covered in cobwebs. Looking up at the lintel, the space where a plaque should have hung was empty, overgrown with nameless weeds and succulents.
The windows were askew, the paper covering them full of holes, and the tiles on the eaves were broken and incomplete. Damp moss swayed proudly between the cracks.
With a creak, the door was pushed open, and the lock on it fell off with a clatter, stirring up a cloud of fine dust.
There was no need for a lock at all.
"Well now, has the sun risen from the west today? Someone actually dares to visit this haunted house?"
Author's Note:
Patrol Inspector: A local military position in the Northern Song Dynasty, responsible for maintaining public order, capturing thieves, patrolling borders, and mobilizing troops when necessary.
Wu silk and water-silk brocade were both famous types of Gusu silk at the time.