In the blink of an eye, the beginning of Summer had passed, and travelers from south to north swapped their heavy clothes for lighter ones.
Achan, frail as she was, still felt cold in her hands and feet at times. Following the example of the elderly, she brought a stool outside on pleasant days to bask in the sun.
Boss Xu, when free, also enjoyed sitting outside, occasionally telling stories to the neighborhood children when in a good mood.
Recently, his shop had new storybooks with fresh tales. Today, he was recounting the story of Yan the Just to a group of children squatting around him.
Achan, half-squinting in the sunlight, tilted her head to listen.
The storybook’s author had skill, using a classic arc of hardship followed by triumph. The protagonist suffered a tragic past, their family unjustly killed with no recourse, then endured countless trials to reach the capital, only to face closed doors. Finally, they met Yan the Just, who heard their plea and brought the true culprit to justice, delivering a satisfying resolution.
When Boss Xu finished, the children shouted “Yan the Just” in excitement, their chatter lively.
Achan, having enjoyed the story, checked the sun’s position—it was nearly lunchtime. She wavered between her own terrible cooking and the equally bad noodles from nearby stalls.
For better food, she’d need to walk two streets over, which she didn’t feel like doing.
“By the way, Miss Ji, a new eatery opened at the street’s end. Have you been?” Boss Xu asked as she stood.
“When did it open?” Achan was curious; she hadn’t been to the street’s end lately.
“Just a couple of days ago. The owner’s cooking is quite good. You should try it,” Boss Xu said.
He loved sharing food tips with Achan, as she always indulged him.
Following his advice, Achan headed to the street’s end. Halfway there, she spotted the new eatery.
Shops near the street’s end typically saw less business, but this eatery was surprisingly busy with customers.
When Achan entered, every table was occupied.
She didn’t rush to leave, instead observing the place. The shop was small, with two long tables against one wall seating six and two square tables on the other, combinable for eight.
The menu board on the wall listed just two dishes: braised noodle soup for seven wen and shredded chicken noodle soup for eight wen—two wen pricier than street stalls. Seeing the customers eating heartily, Achan decided to try it.
Just then, the curtain separating the kitchen lifted, and the owner called out, “One shredded chicken noodle, one braised noodle. Whose order?”
A burly man at a nearby table stood. “Here.”
He tossed thirteen wen into the money box behind the curtain and carried two bowls back to his seat.
As a customer left, the owner came out to clear dishes, smiling at Achan. “What would you like, miss?”
“One shredded chicken noodle.”
“Coming right up.” The owner swiftly cleared the table and returned to the kitchen, likely to prepare the dish.
Achan was surprised as she recognized her. It was Madam Chen, the woman beaten by her husband outside the teahouse.
In just a few days, she seemed transformed.
Soon, the shredded chicken noodle arrived: fine noodles in clear chicken broth, topped with shredded chicken and green onions.
One bite, and Achan thought she could eat noodles for every meal.
Over the next few days, Achan ate at Madam Chen’s eatery daily, and they grew acquainted. Madam Chen even reserved a seat for her.
Noticing Achan’s love for chicken, Madam Chen once made her a special cold shredded chicken dish.
After eating, Achan nearly wanted to swear sisterhood with her.
Surprisingly, Madam Chen’s personality was nothing like Achan had assumed. Far from timid, she was warm, generous, and likable.
One day, Achan arrived late, before lunch, and found the neighborhood’s famous matchmaker in the eatery, proposing a match for Madam Chen with a widowed wealthy merchant who’d fallen for her after one meal, determined to marry her.
Achan privately marveled at her popularity.
That afternoon, Achan dried her calming incense pellets and a dozen pellets mixed with a pinch of dragon bone powder in the backyard. Seeing it was nearly the shēn hour (3 PM to 5 PM), she washed her hands and headed to the eatery.
Madam Chen’s place didn’t serve dinner, but after they grew close, she offered to share evening meals with Achan for five wen each.
Achan, expecting her dowry soon, didn’t mind the daily expense of a dozen or so wen and agreed eagerly.
Not only did Achan like Madam Chen, but Madam Chen was fond of her too.
The matchmaker had mentioned Achan, noting she lived alone, was frail, rarely went out, but was beautiful and gentle. If not for her frequent dealings with officials, suitors would’ve already come knocking.
Today, Madam Chen had bought two crucian carp for tofu soup and braised a chicken frame, deboned for a dish Achan would love.
As she brought out the food, hearing the door, she called with a smile, “Finally here!”
But it wasn’t Achan.
Seeing the visitor, Madam Chen’s smile faded, her tone cool. “What are you doing here?”
The visitor was Yan Liru, Vice Minister of Justice, whom Achan had met at the Zhao residence.
When Achan entered, she saw Madam Chen talking to him, her tone unfriendly, her expression cold.
Only when she saw Achan did warmth return to Madam Chen’s face. “Come in, the food’s ready.”
Yan Liru turned, pausing as he recognized Achan.
His memory was sharp, and he knew her at once.
“Miss Ji.”
Achan realized he knew her identity.
Since he’d spoken first, she couldn’t pretend not to see him and bowed politely. “Ji Chan greets Lord Yan.”
Yan Liru nodded, then turned to Madam Chen, his tone gentle. “I’ve dealt with those troubling you. It won’t happen again.”
Achan knew he meant the recent troublemakers who’d driven away some of Madam Chen’s customers.
Madam Chen replied coldly, “If Lord Yan stops showing up, I won’t have these troubles.”
Achan was surprised. She’d thought rival eateries, jealous of Madam Chen’s business, had hired thugs. Was it something else?
Were the troublemakers tied to Lord Yan?
“Ahui,” Yan Liru said helplessly, using her personal name.
Madam Chen was unmoved. “It’s getting late, Lord Yan. You should return home before your family worries.”
Yan Liru looked disappointed but yielded. “I’ll leave. Don’t be angry.”
After he left, Madam Chen smiled and invited Achan to eat.
Noticing Achan’s curious glances but feigned nonchalance, Madam Chen laughed. “Ask what you want. Don’t bottle it up and lose sleep.”
“What’s your relationship with Lord Yan?”
“My father was his teacher. We grew up together. Curious about him?”
“Very,” Achan admitted. “Boss Xu’s shop sells a popular storybook based on Lord Yan. He’s been telling it outside, and recently it’s about a woman stopping Yan the Just to plead her case.”
Madam Chen couldn’t stop laughing. Her dark past, retold by Achan, felt less painful.
“Funny enough, I’m that woman.”
“What?” Achan hadn’t expected that.
Madam Chen spoke evenly, “That day, my ex-husband beat me badly. I saw him passing and forced him to help.”
She paused, then added, “I suppose I leveraged his debt to me. For my father’s sake, he helped me divorce and warned my ex-husband. After the divorce, I used what was left of my dowry to open this shop.”
“And the troublemakers?”
Madam Chen dodged the question, changing the subject. “Don’t just sit there, you should eat. The fish soup won’t taste as good cold.”
She served Achan a bowl. “Try it. It’s fresh.”
Achan was quickly distracted by the delicious soup.
After Yan Liru’s visit, the troublemakers stopped, and within days, Madam Chen’s business recovered.
That afternoon, Achan stubbornly tried sewing a sachet at home, but halfway through, it was visibly crooked.
As she pondered how to destroy the evidence, a knock came at the door.
Without looking up, she said, “Door’s open. Come in.”
Thanks to Boss Xu’s connections, word of her pest-repelling incense pellets had spread three streets over. Recently, shop owners came to buy, earning her a tidy sum, and her shop was officially open.
Setting aside the failed sachet, she looked up and was surprised to see Madam Chen at the counter. “What brings you here?”
“There’ve been rats in the eatery. I heard your incense pellets work wonders against pests, so I came to buy one.”
Achan grabbed a pellet from the shelf. “Twenty wen each, lasts a month. Place it in a corner for one room.”
“That’s plenty.” Madam Chen paid, then noticed the crooked half-sachet and laughed. “Making a sachet?”
Achan blushed, muttering, “Just trying it out.”
“My needlework’s decent. Shall I teach you?” Madam Chen offered.
Given her skill, she probably never learned needlework at home.
“Really?” Achan’s eyes lit up.
Madam Chen picked up the sachet, unpicked the stitches, and taught her how to place the needle and use proper stitches.
Soon, a small sachet was done.
She even embroidered green bamboo stalks and leaves on it, instantly elevating its value.
Achan adored the sachet. Thinking of something, she took a pellet from a box on the top shelf. “You gave me a hand-stitched sachet, so I’ll give you a hand-crafted pellet.”
Madam Chen, knowing incense was costly, tried to decline, but Achan said, “It’s not made with expensive herbs, just a family recipe, unique but only good for its scent.”
It had other uses, but Madam Chen wouldn’t need them, just the smell was enough.
She handed it over, and Madam Chen sniffed it. The scent was faint but captivating, making her want to smell it again. Oddly, it made her hungry, perhaps stimulating her appetite.
Madam Chen loved the pellet’s scent and, hearing Achan’s explanation, accepted it without further protest.
As they chatted, a luxurious carriage passed outside. It had gone by but suddenly stopped.
Two maids stepped out, setting a stool, and a richly dressed middle-aged woman was helped down.
Without glancing around, she headed straight for Achan’s shop.
“Madam, here to buy incense?” Achan asked, puzzled. Given her attire, she seemed high-status. Why visit a commoner’s area like Changping Lane?
Her pellets weren’t that famous yet.
The woman ignored Achan, her gaze fixed on Madam Chen.
Madam Chen looked up, forcing a smile. “Ah, Yuyu. What a coincidence. It’s been years.”
The woman smiled back. “Quite a coincidence. I heard from my husband you opened a shop nearby. I meant to visit, but I didn’t expect to find you here.”
“Some time ago, troublemakers came to my shop. Lord Yan happened by and helped,” Madam Chen said, pausing. “You don’t mind, do you, Yuyu?”
“Why would I? You and my husband grew up together. Even without old ties, for Old Master Chen’s sake, he’d help.”
“Grew up together? That’s in the past,” Madam Chen replied.
Even Achan, with little experience of women clashing, sensed the tension.
This madam saw Madam Chen as a rival, didn’t she?
Madam Chen didn’t provoke further. She was innocent and didn’t want trouble.
Her grudge with the couple was old history, long over for her. Her words now were just to irk Fang Yuyu.
Fang Yuyu, prideful, wouldn’t make a scene here.
So Madam Chen changed the topic. “Since you’re here, Yuyu, Miss Ji’s incense pellets are excellent. Why not try some?”
Fang Yuyu, not wanting to argue in public, followed along. “Are they? Show me.”
Madam Chen signaled Achan, who brought out her recent pellets for Fang to try.
Fang Yuyu was surprised. Expecting a mediocre shop, the scents were impressive.
“They’re decent, but the ingredients are too common for high society. I’ll take ten of each,” she said haughtily.
Though her work was belittled, Achan didn’t mind—fifty pellets was big business.
The pellets varied in price. As Achan calculated, Fang’s maid tossed over two taels of silver.
Achan accepted it, packed the pellets separately, and handed them to the maid, thinking this woman was a godsend.
Fang Yuyu seemed to want to say more to Madam Chen, but with Madam Chen avoiding eye contact and Achan present, she left reluctantly.
After she was gone, Achan offered Madam Chen one tael. The pellets didn’t even total one tael, and without Madam Chen’s nudge, the lofty madam wouldn’t have bought anything.
Madam Chen laughed and refused. “Keep it. You earned it.”
Achan had guessed the woman’s identity but didn’t pry, not wanting to offend Madam Chen.
She only said, “That madam doesn’t seem easy to deal with. Will she trouble you later?”
Madam Chen lowered her eyes, chuckling. “You think she hasn’t already?”
Achan understood. “Those troublemakers…”
So they were sent by this madam, explaining Madam Chen’s coldness toward Lord Yan.
Madam Chen added, “Don’t worry. Yan Liru will keep her in check. She probably came to probe if I’m still in contact with her husband. Once she confirms we’re not, she’ll stop.”
Since Madam Chen was confident, Achan let it go.
As evening approached, Madam Chen said she needed to place the pellet to keep rats out of the kitchen and left with both the bought and gifted pellets.
For days, nothing happened. Then one morning, Achan went to the eatery and found a crowd outside.
Approaching, she learned Madam Chen hadn’t opened on time.
Thinking she might be sick or delayed, Achan expected the shop to open by noon. But it stayed closed, and Madam Chen was nowhere to be found.
For the next few days, Achan visited daily, but Madam Chen never reappeared.
She had just vanished like that.
Comments
Post a Comment