Young Master Ji: I’m finally online…
Yixin saw that he was just surprised and did not show any greed for the luminous pearl or the glass hairpin. He then realized, “I forgot that the young sir is a doctor, how could he care about such mundane things.”
He walked back, put down the glass hairpin, and took another cloth bag. He said, “A while ago, I had the chance to obtain a set of gold needles. Unfortunately, I don’t know medical skills. Since it seems I’m destined to meet you, I’ll give them to you.”
“…” Yu Jinnian saw the opened cloth bag containing nine gold needles, each of a different shape, a complete set of nine spiritual needles! Honestly… he was somewhat tempted.
Yixin pushed the gold needles towards him, “Do you like them?”
Yu Jinnian reached out to touch them, enjoyed it for a moment, then put his hand down, shaking his head, “I don’t want them, I don’t deserve something for nothing.”
Yixin laughed and said, “How can it be for nothing? Didn’t the young sir diagnose my illness?”
Yu Jinnian honestly said, “That’s nothing, besides, the illness is not difficult to cure. As long as you avoid the food that triggers it in the future, you won’t get it again. Yixin, although I don’t know where you got all this wealth, you shouldn’t easily show it to others in the future…” While speaking, he suddenly changed the topic, “What exactly did you eat this afternoon?”
He intended to catch Yixin off guard, but Yixin wasn’t fooled and just smiled at him silently. Yu Jinnian swallowed nervously, feeling he had asked the wrong question and was now very uneasy.
Just as he was wondering why the little novice hadn’t returned yet, Yixin casually took a couple of steps. It seemed both unintentional and deliberate as he stood in front of the door. A vine branch hung from the eaves, casting a shadow on the window paper that looked like a jagged skeleton or a ghostly figure guarding outside, making Yu Jinnian want to escape but unable to.
Perhaps it was divine intervention, as a gust of eerie wind blew, causing the thin wooden doors to creak and suddenly swing open.
Yixin stood at the door, in the wind. The mountain breeze, mixed with scattered leaves, made his monk robe flap wildly. Yu Jinnian squinted to avoid the wind, and when he opened his eyes again, he saw Yixin playing with a dried yellow leaf he had caught.
Yu Jinnian only knew of the Buddha’s story of holding a flower and smiling, but he couldn’t fully understand why the Buddha held the flower, nor why the Buddha’s disciple smiled, just like he didn’t understand Yixin’s thoughts as he held the leaf now.
“Today is the Cold Clothes Festival,” Yixin suddenly said. “Does the young sir have anyone to pay respects to?”
Yu Jinnian thought of this body’s parents, but the original body’s parents had died so long ago that he barely remembered their faces, only some vague outlines. He said, “Yixin, if you really want to give me something, why not recite scriptures for my deceased parents? I don’t understand Buddhist teachings, let alone recite scriptures.”
Yixin laughed, not a fake or indifferent laugh, but one from deep inside. His plain monk robe made him look like someone in their twilight years, devoid of vitality. Yet, this sudden smile made him seem like spring had arrived, full of vigor.
Yu Jinnian was puzzled by his laughter.
Yixin shook his head while laughing, “The scriptures I recite would only attract evil spirits. You’d better find someone more capable. But if you have financial worries, I can help relieve your burdens.”
This was like saying — I have nothing but money.
Really, comparing oneself to others only leads to frustration.
“Giving you something isn’t just because you diagnosed my illness. Your cooking is also delicious. My mother would have loved it, especially the candied ginger slices. She ended up on the streets, poor and destitute, and finally froze to death on a snowy New Year’s Eve. Her last wish before dying was to drink a bowl of sugar water.” As he spoke, Yixin’s knuckles clenched with a soft crack, but his face remained calm and indifferent, “I went to beg for sugar water but didn’t get any, and my mother died.”
Yu Jinnian didn’t know how to comfort him, so he kept his head down and said nothing, acting as a good listener.
Yixin moved closer to Yu Jinnian, looked down at the jewels in his hand, and sighed, “Even if I have a fortune, if no one shares it, it’s no different from having nothing. These gold and silver items can’t be taken with you when you die, they’re as worthless as dung compared to spring flowers, as useless as winter snow to crops… It’s better to give them to someone destined for them, to fulfill their Buddhist fate.”
Yu Jinnian didn’t quite understand Yixin’s logic. He had seen misers and show-offs but had never encountered someone like Yixin. You could say Yixin didn’t love money, but he casually had a luminous pearl. You could say he loved money, but he said it was worthless. What did he want?
The more Yixin insisted on giving him things, the more Yu Jinnian felt something was wrong with them and dared not accept them. He stepped back seven or eight steps, as if Yixin were some evil person forcing him into a bad situation.
This made Yixin have a somewhat helpless expression.
While they were talking, the little novice who went to get the inkstone finally returned. Yixin quietly hid the jewels in his sleeve, took the inkstone, and began to grind the ink. When Yu Jinnian looked at him again, he found that the smile on Yixin’s face had disappeared, replaced by a gentle and indifferent expression. It was as if he had immersed himself in Buddhism for many years, becoming as ordinary as the other monks seen in the temple.
How can a person change expressions so quickly, Yu Jinnian thought.
“Please, sir.” Yixin stood up and made way for the writing desk.
Actually, seeing the paper and pen still gave Yu Jinnian a headache. Picking up the pen felt like taking a test, making him nervous and afraid of writing the wrong characters and being laughed at. He wrote slowly, and Yixin did not disturb him, instead, he turned to look for something in the cabinet. The little novice, however, couldn’t wait any longer. Seeing that the two of them were dry and boring, he saluted Yixin and asked to go back to report to his master.
“Xiaofeng powder uses Jingfang, cicada slough, black sesame, bitter ginseng, and Cangzhu. Shizhi, burdock, Tonggui, earth grass, it cures wind rashes and damp rashes.”
Yu Jinnian silently recited the formula, adding and subtracting a few herbs. When he wrote “cicada slough,” he got stuck again. Frowning, he unconsciously bit the pen, trying to recall the strokes of the two characters—actually, he was inwardly shouting, “Young Master Ji, where did you go?”
As for Ji Hong, he didn’t wander off. He was just waiting outside the treasure hall.
However, after waiting for a long time without seeing anyone come out, he returned to find that the boy’s figure was gone inside the hall—naturally, he couldn’t find him because by that time, Yu Jinnian had already been led out through the side door of the treasure hall by Yixin. His face turned cold instantly. Along the way, he stopped many monks, asking each one, and finally heard from a passing novice monk that a monk named “Yixin” had taken Yu Jinnian away.
Ji Hong recalled the Yixin he had seen under the banyan tree, the young monk who seemed gentle and harmless, and felt increasingly uneasy, quickening his pace.
He traced his way to the monks’ quarters. The courtyard, with its entwined vines and flowers, and mist shrouding the greenery, should have been a picturesque sight, but at this moment, it felt eerie and cold to Ji Hong, like a man-eating demon’s lair.
He saw a door slightly ajar and hurriedly walked over.
Inside the room, Yixin took out a copper incense ball with carved patterns of intertwining foliage from the cabinet. With a gentle press, the hollow copper ball split into two. Yixin wiped it clean inside and out with a white cloth, then took out a small wooden box, scooped a spoonful of blackish-brown paste, and shaped it into a ball with his fingers, placing it on the incense grid inside the copper ball.
He lit the incense paste, closed the copper ball, and hung it on a small flower rack protruding above the desk.
Yu Jinnian, deep in thought, suddenly smelled a refreshing scent and couldn’t help but look up. Wisps of smoke rose elegantly from the intricate patterns of the copper ball, filling the room with a delightful aroma.
Yixin glanced at Yu Jinnian’s prescription and, seeing him stuck for a while, smiled and took another pen, dipped it in ink, and filled in the character that Yu Jinnian had been pondering over.
At this moment, Ji Hong pushed the door open and saw this scene: Yixin was bent over beside the boy, looking very close, while the boy was engrossed in writing his crooked characters, oblivious to everything else. Ji Hong didn’t need to understand the whole situation. His eyes darkened as he strode forward and grabbed the boy’s wrist holding the pen.
He unconsciously exerted force, pulling the boy away from the desk, “What are you doing here? It’s time to go.” Ji Hong suppressed his voice. Although he was speaking to Yu Jinnian, his gaze was fixed on the quickly retreating Yixin.
Yu Jinnian, happy to see that Ji Hong had found him, dropped the pen and said, “A monk asked me to diagnose Yixin’s illness. Hmm, it’s done now. Let’s go!”
Yixin also respectfully saluted Ji Hong, then lowered his head and stepped aside.
Ji Hong was not a narrow-minded person. He understood that as a doctor, the boy inevitably had to interact with various people. If he couldn’t tolerate such interactions, he wouldn’t have fallen for the boy in the first place. However, Yixin always gave a feeling of being inscrutable, reminding Ji Hong of the white wolves he had seen in the far north. They looked pure and flawless, like snow elves, but were actually fierce beasts with sharp teeth and claws.
The room had a faint fragrance. Ji Hong glanced around, and Yixin spoke first, “It’s Wake-Up Incense.”
Though Ji Hong didn’t like Yixin, he couldn’t act rashly against the smiling, devout monk. He held Yu Jinnian’s hand, his face dark, and led him out, intending to lecture him outside—telling him to be more cautious when treating others and to assess their character—because this Yixin was clearly not a kind person!
Yixin didn’t stop them, just silently followed behind. As Yu Jinnian stepped over the threshold, Yixin suddenly reached out and gently patted his shoulder.
Yu Jinnian looked back, puzzled, only to see Yixin standing quietly at the door, smiling at him, “Young sir, next year at this time, if you still remember Yixin, please burn two pieces of colorful clothing for my mother when you burn them at the roadside.”
Yixin, though seemingly abnormal and with a hint of madness, hadn’t caused any substantial trouble. Yu Jinnian thought, everyone says that to achieve enlightenment, Buddhists must sever all emotional ties. Since Yixin was in the Buddhist sect, he probably couldn’t worship his mother as he wished. Burning a few more pieces of paper during the Cold Clothes Festival was not a big deal, so he nodded in agreement.
…
The two walked out of Fengbo Temple and down the stone steps. Along the way, Yu Jinnian kept talking about Yixin, vividly describing how the little monk had hidden a room full of treasures and tried to force them on him. Even after they descended the mountain, he continued chatting with Ji Hong: “Yixin may not be a good monk, but he’s a good son, isn’t he?”
“Heh,” Ji Hong laughed coldly.
Yu Jinnian tilted his head and asked, “What are you laughing at?”
Ji Hong finally found a chance to speak, “Look in your sleeve.”
“Huh?” Yu Jinnian rummaged through his sleeve’s inner pocket and felt a small coin pouch, a small packet of candied ginger slices, and a handkerchief. Suddenly, he stopped and pulled out something extra—it was the luminous pearl that Yixin had shown him. He couldn’t help but exclaim, “Ah! When did this appear?”
Ji Hong, as if he had known all along, said blandly, “When he patted your shoulder.”
Yu Jinnian was surprised, “Then why didn’t you say something earlier? You let me carry it down the mountain!”
Ji Hong frowned and said sourly, “I wanted to, but you kept talking about Yixin, so how could I get a word in?”
Yu Jinnian: “…Then I’ll give it back to him.”
Meeting him once and already unable to forget, what if he met him a second time? Ji Hong grabbed the boy’s wrist, pulled him back, and held him tightly, ordering, “No, he obviously has plenty of wealth. He won’t miss this pearl.”
“…” Was he jealous?
Yu Jinnian was coaxed back to the noodle shop by Ji Hong, who also persuaded him to let Ji Hong keep the pearl. Later, he was too busy with the shop’s numerous tasks and troublesome customers to think about the pearl anymore. While he was busy in the kitchen, he saw Qing Huan struggling in with two large baskets of duck eggs.
He helped carry them and asked, “Where did these duck eggs come from?”
Qing Huan was also puzzled, “I don’t know. I just turned around, and these two baskets appeared outside the shop. I asked the customers, and none of them knew. There was a note inside. Young Master Ji, take a look.”
Ji Hong took the note, which only had four words: “Thanks to Mr. Yu.”
“Seems like it’s not a mistake, maybe a patient’s thank-you gift?” Qing Huan laughed.
Yu Jinnian thought for a moment but couldn’t figure out who sent them. Thank-you gifts between patients and doctors were a good omen, and rejecting them might be bad, so he happily accepted the duck eggs and started thinking about how to eat them.
When it came to food, the boy’s eyes lit up. Ji Hong couldn’t resist patting his head and suggested, “How about making preserved eggs? I haven’t had them in years.”
These duck eggs were large, round, with a pale blue shell, heavy and solid, unlike those light and hollow white-shelled eggs that looked unappetizing. The best way to enjoy duck eggs was to make preserved eggs, especially with the green-shelled duck eggs, which had the best taste. While chicken or pigeon eggs could also be used, they were not as flavorful.
Since Ji Hong wanted preserved eggs, Yu Jinnian naturally obliged. He immediately asked Qing Huan to get some clear spicy wine.
There are various ways to preserve eggs: coating with mud, powder, or simply soaking in brine. But Yu Jinnian often used the wine-soaking method, which was simple and clean. The yolk would remain runny with a hint of wine aroma, and the wine could remove the duck egg’s fishy smell and help the yolk turn red and oily.
Yu Jinnian prepared five-spice powder, mixed it with salt, and Qing Huan returned with the wine.
As a little wine lover, Qing Huan couldn’t resist taking a sip first. The clear spicy wine wasn’t like the finely brewed bamboo, chrysanthemum, or fruit wines, but a straightforward, cheap, and strong drink from the tavern. Although its taste was simple, it was invigorating. A sip warmed the whole body, filling it with boundless energy.
Ji Hong heard Qing Huan say that the method for making salted eggs was simple, and even an outsider like him could help. He washed his hands, changed into lighter clothes, and returned to the kitchen. As soon as he entered, he saw the young man happily sneaking a drink of the spicy wine used for the salted eggs.
When he walked into the kitchen, the young man approached him, holding a cup of wine and smiling up at him, saying, “This is a reward for you.”
Ji Hong couldn’t help but be infected by his smile. He wrapped an arm around the young man’s waist. The young man always said his body was like a piece of paper, easily blown over, yet he wasn’t that strong either. His waist was so slender and flexible that it could barely be grasped. Ji Hong’s tone softened as he felt it, “Hmm, why are you rewarding me?”
Yu Jinnian earnestly replied, “For traveling such a long way and climbing a mountain without becoming too exhausted to walk.”
Hearing this, Ji Hong realized it might indeed be true. He rarely left his residence, and when he did, he always rode in a sedan chair, even for just a few steps, always surrounded by attendants to ensure his comfort. During his weakest years, they even carried a folding chair with the sedan. But after coming here, the young man treated him like a worker, making him sweep, serve dishes, and run errands, all things he never did before. Surprisingly, his health seemed to have improved a bit.
Ji Hong had long given up hope for his health to improve. But having this lively, adorable young man by his side, he couldn’t help but feel sentimental late at night. He hoped to pass away soon, allowing the young man to move on while still naive in matters of the heart. In the future, when speaking of him, he could simply say “an old friend.” Yet, the thought of the young man forgetting him completely caused a pang in his chest, making him want to keep the young man with him forever, through life and death.
Thinking back and forth, unable to sleep, Ji Hong concluded that being alive was still best because only then could he see the young man’s smile.
So, while Ji Hong outwardly appeared indifferent to his health, he actually wanted to get better. Hearing the young man say this, he felt hopeful and happy. He drank the cup of wine held by Yu Jinnian and even kissed the young man’s fingers along the rim.
Yu Jinnian’s fingers itched from the kiss, and he laughed, lightly brushing his chin against Ji Hong’s in return.
Ji Hong loved this reciprocal gesture but showed only a slight smile.
They sat facing each other in the kitchen, poured the wine into a basin, and placed a clean, dry jar beside them to start making salted eggs.
The method involved rolling the green-shelled duck eggs first in wine, then in five-spice salt before placing them in the jar. In the past, they would use a refrigerator, making the salted eggs lightly salted and perfect for their taste. But now, to ensure longer storage, they made them saltier.
After rolling the duck eggs, Yu Jinnian prepared a brine by boiling salt until a thin layer remained at the bottom, indicating saturation. He sprinkled five-spice powder into the brine and added the remaining wine. They poured this mixture into the jar, sealed it with a wooden lid, and weighed it down with a stone, then patiently waited.
As evening approached, Yu Jinnian quickly cooked a slightly salty and spicy dish and thinly sliced meat for making zhajiang noodles.
He also took five or six leftover cold buns, carved a hole in the bottom with a knife, and scooped out some filling. Holding the buns with long chopsticks, he roasted them at the stove until the skin turned slightly yellow and cracked, filling the kitchen with a roasted aroma.
Yu Jinnian fondly remembered the taste of roasted buns from his childhood. Though he had his foster father make them once using a gas stove, the flavor wasn’t quite the same. Stove-roasted buns had a unique fragrance.
His stomach growled at the thought, and he patiently roasted the hollow buns. He placed them on small porcelain plates, stuffed them with the previously prepared dish, and garnished them with a bit of sliced meat.
This dish, called “Mantou Soup,” combined vegetables and bread delightfully.
The leftover bun filling was chopped, coated in flour, and cooked into a bun soup, a simple yet delicious household dish made by frying ginger, garlic, and scallions, adding an egg, cabbage, seasoning with salt and soy sauce, and finally simmering with the bun pieces.
Although it looked rustic, it was incredibly tasty, and Yu Jinnian himself could drink two big bowls.
Since today was the Cold Clothing Festival, diners left early, avoiding the time when spirits were believed to roam. Those feeling vulnerable to spirits returned home to avoid encountering them.
The family ate warmly together. Sui Sui found the Mantou Soup amusing and ate half more than usual, making her too full to sit up straight, to everyone’s amusement. After dinner, they each cleaned up. Qing Huan took Sui Sui to their room to teach her needlework, though it was uncertain how much a child that young could learn.
Yu Jinnian, excitedly carrying a small basket, went to find Ji Hong.
Ji Hong, having been fed too much by the young man, was pacing in his room. Suddenly, the door opened, and before he could turn, he felt a weight on his back and a slight chill.
The young man wrapped his arms around Ji Hong’s neck from behind, half-hanging on his back, cheerfully saying, “Ah Hong, let’s also go deliver cold clothes!”