Ptui, why do people become more shameless the prettier they get!
The night was deep, shrouded in mist, with the moon half-hidden and half-visible. The chilly evening wind howled, creating an eerie atmosphere reminiscent of a world plagued by demons and monsters.
The person making this strange noise was a monk, which greatly surprised the passersby. However, their wariness did not diminish, because this monk was dressed entirely in white mourning clothes. Even though his monk robe was as pure and immaculate as snow, it could not hide the fact that he was an unusual monk.
For a hundred years, Buddhism had flourished. During the tumultuous times when the Xia and Yue clashed and chaos reigned, there were still three hundred temples of varying sizes across the land. Now that peace had been restored, the number of temples had only increased. Yet, even with the multitude of monks in the country, none had ever seen a Buddhist disciple wearing white.
In Buddhism, it is emphasized that one should be detached from worldly desires, aiming to reach a state of neither joy nor sorrow over external matters. Therefore, wearing bright and luxurious clothes is not encouraged, and pure colors like yellow, green, black, red, and white are especially avoided. Hence, Buddhist disciples often wear mixed colors like grey and yellow-brown to eliminate any greed for attire.
This white-robed monk was tall and walked steadily, with a straight spine. His left wrist was adorned with a string of red sandalwood beads, and in his right hand, he held a black-gold lotus staff with six rings. The jingling sound came from the rings clashing against each other as he walked. Seeing a white-robed monk on the street during the time of night when ghosts were believed to roam was strange enough, but what was even more peculiar was that the monk wore a white hat with a long veil that completely covered his face. On either side of the hat’s brim hung strings of small beads, each ending with a bead the same color as the ones on his wrist.
To a monk, he appeared too opulent, thought Yu Jinnian.
Even though this monk seemed out of place, his extravagant yet composed demeanor made him appear extraordinary in the eyes of the common folk, who only thought that such a high monk must naturally be different. Their reverence for him did not diminish but instead increased.
The white-robed monk slowly walked from one end of the long street, stopping before a passerby burning cold-weather clothes for the dead. With a slight movement of his left hand, something fell from his sleeve, making a jingling sound as it hit the ground before he continued walking.
The kneeling person on the ground waited until the monk had gone far before tremblingly reaching out to pick up the scattered objects. To his surprise, they were shiny copper coins, causing him to widen his eyes. The white-robed monk, having given something without leaving a word, left the man to interpret it himself. After a moment of gratitude, he exclaimed, “It’s money to ward off evil… Ah, thank you, Master!”
Saying this, he held the few copper coins in his hands and bowed in the monk’s direction, regardless of whether the monk could see it or not.
Yu Jinnian knew that in the practice of feng shui, copper coins could be used to ward off evil, such as the Five Emperors Coins, the lesser Five Emperors Coins, and even more extravagant ones like the Six Emperors Coins or Ten Emperors Coins, and even copper coin swords. These all had the effect of expelling evil and avoiding disasters.
Copper coins, being round with square holes, harmonized yin and yang, accumulating the essence of heaven, earth, and humanity. They gathered the prosperous aura of emperors and the yang energy of countless households, making them protective talismans for experts. It is said that great masters could even change the fortunes with Five Emperors Coins. Although contemporary currency did not have the same effect as ancient coins in warding off evil, if blessed by a master, it could still offer protection.
Yu Jinnian did not fully believe such folklore, but it reminded him of a time in his previous life when it was trendy to keep a folded triangular banknote in one’s wallet. Since banknotes also passed through countless hands and carried the energy of great people, it was believed to offer protection. This belief, whose origin was unknown, essentially turned the banknote into a kind of warding money.
Lost in thought, Yu Jinnian realized the white-robed monk was now very close. The monk walked up to the old woman and there was another jingling sound.
They had already stood up and planned to leave, but the appearance of the white-robed monk piqued Yu Jinnian’s curiosity, causing him to linger and watch a bit longer. Ji Hong, seeing the monk approach, felt a strange sensation and instinctively shielded the young man behind him.
The white-robed monk, unfazed, stopped before Yu Jinnian and gently shook the lotus staff in his hand. The staff was exquisitely crafted, with flowers and vines carved along its length, and a green jade bead embedded at the tip. If not for the staff’s dark color, which marred its beauty, Yu Jinnian could have thought of many more words to praise it. He stared at the monk’s staff, lost in thought, when he suddenly heard a clattering sound.
Ji Hong instinctively stepped back, then looked down to see what had fallen, and was speechless.
Yu Jinnian also fell silent, unsure of what to say.
He glanced at the few copper coins in the hands of others and then at the pile at his feet. In a mix of surprise and confusion, he looked up at the white-robed monk before him, silently questioning: why did others receive a few jingling coins while he got an avalanche of clattering ones? Master, are you not bestowing warding money but simply a leaking money bag?
Unfortunately, with the white-robed monk’s face covered by a veil, it was impossible to discern his expression or if he was feeling any pain over the money that had “accidentally” fallen out. Judging by his steady posture, he seemed to have a strong psyche, not fainting from heartache.
As Yu Jinnian hesitated about whether to help the master save face by picking up the money and returning it, the white-robed monk suddenly turned his head, seemingly glancing in Ji Hong’s direction. Following the monk’s gaze, Yu Jinnian realized his hand was being held by Ji Hong. Although he didn’t mind holding Ji Hong’s hand, he thought it might be disrespectful in front of a monk and tried to pull his hand away.
To his surprise, Ji Hong held on tightly, giving him no chance to withdraw, and instead pulled him closer, looking like a mother hen protecting her chick, facing off against the white-robed monk.
Yu Jinnian thought it was remarkable that he could discern a stare between them when the monk’s face was entirely hidden.
“Heh, hehe…” he laughed awkwardly.
Then, the monk’s sleeve moved again, but this time he threw out a long red string, which coiled like a snake onto the pile of copper coins on the ground. Yu Jinnian wondered what this meant—was the master hinting for him to string the coins together with the red string and return them?
Just as he was about to put this thought into action, the monk struck the ground with his lotus staff and walked away, the jingling sound fading as he disappeared into the mist, leaving the bewildered youth behind.
“What does this mean?” Yu Jinnian asked, pointing at the pile of copper coins on the ground.
Ji Hong, not being one who cared much for money, was indifferent to the coins. Since they came from an unknown monk, he had even less interest in them and simply said, “I don’t know.”
“It’s given by the master. Leaving it here might bring retribution,” Yu Jinnian said. He wasn’t greedy but couldn’t just leave the money unattended. He earnestly picked up the red string and started threading the copper coins, putting them into a basket. “We can donate them to the temple someday.”
While the copper coins were ordinary, the red string was quite interesting. Ji Hong, being knowledgeable, recognized it as a special red string with a diamond knot, meant to ward off disaster and protect the wearer. Thus, he didn’t stop Yu Jinnian from picking it up and even looked in the direction the monk had gone, pondering.
As the fog thickened, the outlines of distant buildings became faint. The night fog brought a sudden drop in temperature, causing Yu Jinnian to shiver from the cold, prompting him to start heading back with Ji Hong.
The red string given by the white-robed monk was exceptionally long, with plenty left over after threading the coins. Yu Jinnian, feeling restless, played with the string as they walked. After a while, he had the sudden idea to tie it around Ji Hong’s wrist. He didn’t bother asking for permission and quickly did it.
Ji Hong knew what he was doing but didn’t stop him, smiling at his actions. He only felt slightly uncomfortable that the other end of the string was tied to copper coins instead of the youth himself.
After finishing, Yu Jinnian admired his work for a moment, the red string contrasting beautifully with the fair skin. Raising the basket higher, Ji Hong had no choice but to lift his hand as well. As Yu Jinnian walked forward, he seemed to pull Ji Hong along, as if the red string had truly bound Ji Hong to him, making him laugh happily.
He shared this idea of being “tied” as a joke with Ji Hong, not noticing Ji Hong’s slight change in expression. Unbeknownst to him, Ji Hong reached into his basket, fiddling with it quietly. When they reached a narrow alley close to a noodle shop, Yu Jinnian was still thinking about what to have for breakfast the next day when he suddenly felt the basket grow heavier, causing him to stumble to the side.
Ji Hong, with a push on his shoulder, spun him like a top until he landed against the gray brick wall of the alley. The basket made a clattering sound—Ji Hong had somehow untied the other end of the red string!
Seeing Yu Jinnian’s shocked expression, Ji Hong laughed softly, “Why so surprised? Didn’t you say you wanted to tie me up? This much money can’t bind me.”
Yu Jinnian blinked, teasing him, “Then how much money would it take to bind you?”
“Hmm.” Ji Hong pretended to think deeply, then took Yu Jinnian’s hand, wrapping the red string around it twice and tying a loose knot, effectively binding their hands together. He then stroked the back of Yu Jinnian’s hand and said, “What can bind me is a priceless treasure.”
It was quiet deep into the night, with the occasional sound of hurried footsteps from people returning home after burning cold-weather clothes for the dead. Ji Hong’s voice, intentionally lowered, became slightly hoarse. Yu Jinnian, who had intended to tease him, found himself on the receiving end instead, feeling a tingly sensation as if stung on his heart. If he still didn’t understand the meaning behind Ji Hong’s words, he would be foolish. However, the phrase “priceless treasure” was both cheesy and cliché…
Yu Jinnian stared at the ethereal and handsome face before him, thinking about the phrase “priceless treasure.” His face burned as he thought, “It might not be that cheesy after all…”
He couldn’t help but fall into Ji Hong’s trap, fully immersed in the sweetness. As Ji Hong gently played with his fingers, he felt a tingling sensation all over, his eyes glued to Ji Hong in a daze. Feeling both happy and embarrassed, he replied, “Mm, you… you are also a priceless treasure…”
Ji Hong felt pleased, smiling gently and tenderly. He lightly scratched the boy’s soft and slightly sweaty palm with his smooth, rounded fingernail, trying to coax him into saying something even more affectionate: “Whose priceless treasure?”
Even Yu Jinnian, usually unflappable, felt quite awkward at this moment. His hand recoiled shyly from the tickling, hoping Ji Hong would drop the matter and not continue pressing the issue. However, Ji Hong seemed relentless, moving closer and leisurely scrutinizing him.
Unable to meet his gaze, Yu Jinnian decided to just go for it. He was about to say, “I—”
“Meow—!”
A fat cat jumped down from the wall, stepping on Ji Hong’s shoulder and diving into Yu Jinnian’s arms.
——It was the long-missing Little Dingdang!
Yu Jinnian joyfully hugged the cat, immediately distracted, showering it with concern. He didn’t notice Ji Hong’s dark expression, watching the cat like it was a meal, clearly thinking about cooking the cat that had interrupted them.
With the conversation topic lost, Ji Hong, looking grim, was about to grab Little Dingdang by the neck when they heard the distant sound of the white-robed monk’s staff rings, a pressing and hurried jingling that seemed to be chasing away something unclean.
Ji Hong had a sudden sense of foreboding but couldn’t pinpoint the cause. Forgetting about flirting, he pulled Yu Jinnian toward the noodle shop. The alley was just a few steps from the shop, and in moments they would be safe inside, away from any outside horrors.
“What’s going on?” Yu Jinnian asked.
Just as he spoke, a figure suddenly burst from the alley ahead, holding a wicker box. The person seemed to be another night-time mourner, but the elaborate box, with its six or seven colorful gemstones and gold and silver inlays, marked them as wealthy. Even in the thick fog, the box’s decorations faintly glimmered.
The person ran wildly, frantically throwing colorful papers from the box, as if terrified of something on them. Despite his fear, he clung to the valuable box, unwilling to discard it entirely, creating a comical sight.
Yu Jinnian had no intention of colliding with him, but the man ran headlong toward them, oblivious. Yu Jinnian and Ji Hong instinctively tried to dodge, only to be yanked back together by the red string still binding their hands, nearly bumping heads.
The terrified man, seeing them at the last moment, seemed stunned. Seeing their connected hands, he froze, eyes bulging. Before Yu Jinnian could speak, the man screamed, eyes rolling back as he fainted.
“……” Yu Jinnian nudged the unconscious man with his foot, wondering, “Did he see a ghost? Am I that scary?”
The man on the ground was skinny, his face gaunt, making his rich attire look stolen. Yu Jinnian bent down for a closer look, finding the man oddly familiar. After a moment, he exclaimed, “Isn’t this Mr. Yang?”
——Today, at Fengbo Temple, they saw that wealthy man who looked like a refugee, the one Master Qingxu mentioned as “Benefactor Yang” in the side hall. It seemed to be this very person lying here now.
——
Benefactor Yang fainted in front of the One Bowl Noodle Shop, and it was uncertain how long he would remain unconscious. Yu Jinnian figured they couldn’t ignore him; otherwise, it would be quite a sight for customers to find a body sprawled across the entrance the next day. So, he enlisted Ji Hong’s help to carry Yang inside.
Each grabbing one of his arms, they dragged him into the shop and dropped him on the floor. Ji Hong, looking disgusted, pulled out a white silk handkerchief from his sleeve and began wiping his hands. Although Benefactor Yang appeared emaciated, he was surprisingly heavy. Yu Jinnian sat on a stool to rest and called out, “Benefactor Yang, Benefactor Yang?”
Qing Huan, who had been listening in the back courtyard, heard them return and brought out two cups of warm water, mimicking what Yu Jinnian had done before by adding a few slices of ginger to each. She then hurried to the front hall with the hot ginger tea. Seeing them sitting there, with a now even fatter cat lying on Yu Jinnian’s lap, she said, “Warm yourselves up. Why did you come back so late? Mr. Ji, please have some tea.”
Ji Hong nodded in thanks. First, he removed the cloak from the boy’s shoulders, along with the basket, and handed them to Qing Huan. Then, he placed a cup of hot ginger tea in the boy’s hand. Despite their hands still being tied together by the red string, they coordinated seamlessly, with Qing Huan watching in admiration. She saw Yu Jinnian take the tea cup and say something softly to Ji Hong, who then bent down slightly to sip the tea from the same cup with a smile.
Watching their gentle and affectionate interactions, Qing Huan felt a sudden urge to find a good man to marry. However, after seeing such tender and considerate people, she felt she couldn’t settle for anyone less. She knew that, given her status, she had no chance of a good match and didn’t dare to dream of climbing higher. She decided that rather than marrying into a mundane life, it was better to serve these two young masters and repay the kindness they had shown her.
Besides, where could she find another master as kind and never abusive as Young Master Yu?
Qing Huan had long accepted her role as their servant. Coming back to reality, she noticed the person lying on the ground and exclaimed, “Isn’t this Mr. Yang? How did he end up sleeping here?”
“I scared him into fainting. He should wake up soon,” Yu Jinnian said gloomily. Then he asked Qing Huan, “Do you know this person?”
Qing Huan scoffed, “Who doesn’t know Mr. Yang on Qingliu Street? He spends most of his time there, either in one place or another, just like his father, who loved to frequent brothels!” She paused, puzzled, “Last year, Mr. Yang, though not very robust, looked quite healthy. How did he become so frail? If it weren’t for his still somewhat charming face, he’d be unrecognizable.”
Suddenly, Yu Jinnian remembered something and told Qing Huan, “Quickly, go pick up that gilded wicker box outside and see if there’s anything strange inside.”
Qing Huan hurried out, retrieved the fallen wicker box, and handed it to them.
Yu Jinnian rummaged through the box, finding only some unburned colorful padded clothes, two silver candleholders, a fire starter, and various paper money and ingots. There was nothing particularly frightening inside. He pulled out an unfamiliar paper object, resembling a small rattle with a round disk and thin bamboo stick at the bottom. The disk was decorated with colorful flower patterns, fish on lotus leaves, and other auspicious motifs, with small wooden beads tied on each side.
Qing Huan glanced at it and said, puzzled, “This is a paper rattle drum, usually burned for children who died young.”
Indeed, it did resemble a rattle drum. Yu Jinnian asked, “Did Mr. Yang’s family recently lose a young child?”
Qing Huan scoffed, “Everyone knows that the Yang family’s biggest issue is their lack of heirs. It’s said that old Mr. Yang’s sins have prevented them from having children. He has taken seven concubines, but the Yang family has only produced four sons. Though the eldest and fourth sons died young, the second and third sons have never stopped trying to have children. They’ve caused quite a stir with their marriages, divorces, purchases, and new concubines, but no grandchildren have been born. It’s become a joke in the county… Not even a whisper of anyone expecting, let alone a child dying.”
Yu Jinnian, turning the paper rattle drum in his hand, pondered, “Such a thing.”
Qing Huan picked up the colorful clothes from the wicker box and commented on the fragrant scent, noting how even special-made clothes from wealthy families smelled pleasant. Ji Hong’s brow furrowed as if struck by inspiration. He instructed Qing Huan, “Bring a candle.”
“Yes, Mr. Ji,” Qing Huan promptly fetched a candlestick.
Ji Hong picked up a piece of colorful paper and held it over the flame. Yu Jinnian, sensing something interesting, eagerly knelt on the stool, eyes fixed on the paper. He leaned in closer until Ji Hong gently flicked his forehead, prompting him to back away from the flame.
The paper, when roasted, began to wrinkle slightly, revealing some drawings. Qing Huan, initially interested, jumped up in shock when the drawings became clear, covering her eyes and shouting, “Throw it away, throw it away! This paper is cursed by evil spirits!”
Ji Hong shook the paper, revealing the face of a child. However, it wasn’t an ordinary child’s face but that of a bald infant with a large forehead and wide face. The two almond-shaped black eyes were entirely black, devoid of any white, and the corners of the mouth curved up at a strange angle, giving it an eerie, ghostly appearance.
He handed the paper to Yu Jinnian, who, instead of being frightened, observed it with interest, saying, “So, this is what scared him. He must have been burning offerings by the roadside when the fire licked the paper and revealed the picture. It’s nothing too serious.”
Seeing Qing Huan genuinely scared, Ji Hong casually burned the colorful paper with the ghostly face. He had hoped the boy would be frightened and seek comfort in his arms, feeling a bit disappointed. He said softly, “Don’t be afraid, it’s just a hidden writing technique.”
Yu Jinnian nodded calmly, confident as if saying, “I know a hundred such tricks.”
The two of them roasted one colorful paper after another, each revealing similar ghostly faces—some with one ghost, some with two, each grinning ominously at them. Despite Ji Hong’s brief explanation of the hidden writing technique, Qing Huan still couldn’t get over the eerie images and decided to focus on the unconscious Benefactor Yang instead, admiring the courage of the two young masters.
As Yu Jinnian roasted more papers, he lightly scratched Ji Hong’s hand with his pinky, whispering, “Are you hungry? Shall I make you a midnight snack?”
“Not particularly hungry, eating late is not beneficial,” Ji Hong replied coolly.
“I’ll make some soup for you then, to have in the morning,” Yu Jinnian said, nudging Ji Hong’s leg with his foot under the table. “You should untie this string, it’s quite uncomfortable.”
Seeing Ji Hong’s reluctance, Yu Jinnian persisted, hooking his pinky around Ji Hong’s and complaining cheerfully, “Your hands are so cold, let me warm them up.”
Ji Hong didn’t refuse, and their fingers intertwined under the table. Yu Jinnian recalled their earlier flirtation about being “priceless treasures,” smiling uncontrollably. His feet swung happily under the table, occasionally kicking the man beside him. Ji Hong gave him a deep look and whispered, “Behave.”
Yu Jinnian, grinning, nudged Ji Hong’s ankle with his foot and whispered, “Come closer, I have a secret to tell you.”
Ji Hong, thinking it might be something serious, leaned in slightly. Yu Jinnian, seeing how obedient he was, decided against playing a prank and suddenly lifted his head to plant a quick kiss on Ji Hong’s lips. It wasn’t a deep kiss, just a soft touch, and he pulled away immediately, feeling shy.
If asked to describe the sensation, he would probably say it felt like kissing a piece of warm tofu—soft and warm.
Ji Hong was momentarily stunned but quickly recovered. He grabbed the shy, retreating boy, eyes filled with amused affection, and said softly, “What did Mr. Yu say earlier? I didn’t catch it, could you say it again?”
“I didn’t say anything,” Yu Jinnian whispered, glancing at Qing Huan, who had her back to them. Flirting in private was one thing, but if she saw him fail at it, it would be mortifying. Ji Hong, undeterred, pinched the back of Yu Jinnian’s neck, forcing him to look at him, and pretended to be puzzled, “Let me repeat it for you, Mr. Yu. See if it’s correct?”
With that, he leaned in, his lips lingering over Yu Jinnian’s, alternating between gentle sucking and slow licking, in a variety of ways. Compared to this, Yu Jinnian’s earlier peck seemed insignificant, just a nibble, unworthy of being called a kiss. But such intimate acts were never meant for public display anyway…
Yu Jinnian found it surprisingly enjoyable, feeling as if his bones were soaked in vinegar. It was far more pleasant than his own attempt, almost addictive. He was so dazed by the kiss that he almost let out a moan, but Ji Hong stopped just in time, covering his mouth and whispering, “Keep it down.”
Suddenly realizing what was happening, Yu Jinnian blushed furiously, slamming his head down on the table in embarrassment, refusing to lift it.
Ji Hong nudged him and asked with a smile, “Did you hear it clearly? Was it this sentence?”
Yu Jinnian, feeling his ears burning, was terrified that Qing Huan might have seen them. He muttered into the table, “It wasn’t that, you added extra embellishments!”
Ji Hong felt a sweetness in his heart but maintained a serious expression, as if genuinely instructing Yu Jinnian in the art of writing poetry. “I merely embellished your words, Mr. Yu. Now you have the experience for next time.”
Yu Jinnian thought, “Ptui, why do people become more shameless the prettier they get!”
At this moment, Qing Huan turned to look at them. She hadn’t seen any of their small gestures and was silently admiring their learning, thinking it admirable that they were still studying so late at night. Her respect for them grew even more. Just then, Benefactor Yang, lying on the ground, twitched his foot, and she exclaimed, “Mr. Yu, Mr. Yang is waking up!”
Yang Cai woke up groggily, and the first thing he saw was Ji Hong looking down at him. Still half-conscious, he thought he was in a brothel and, feeling lustful, tried to get up to enjoy the “beauty,” but a sharp pain in the back of his head, as if he had drunk three jins of alcohol, prevented him from moving. Groaning, he said, “Beauty, help me up…”
Yu Jinnian walked around him, noticing his lecherous eyes fixed on Ji Hong. Furious, he stomped on Yang Cai’s hand, causing him to yelp and sit up abruptly, clutching his hand, not knowing what had happened.
“Mr. Yang, you’re awake?” Yu Jinnian greeted with a smile.
The stomp cleared Yang Cai’s mind. He recalled the incident where burning offerings revealed ghostly faces. Terrified, he ran into the fog where a white-robed monk appeared, surrounding him with eerie ghost lights. The monk warned that Yang’s household was haunted and needed purification. Terrified, Yang Cai fled without listening to the full message. He remembered seeing what he thought were ghostly figures and fainted.
Recalling this, Yang Cai jumped up, shouting, “Ghosts! Ghosts!”
Yu Jinnian held up a piece of colorful paper, “You mean this?”
“Ah! Ah!” Yang Cai screamed at the sight of the ghostly face on the paper and fainted again.
They had seen scared people before, but never someone so terrified. Yang Cai lay on the ground, unconscious and snoring loudly—a sign he had fallen asleep mid-faint. With no way to wake him, Qing Huan threw a blanket over him, and everyone returned to their rooms to sleep.
After a series of unexpected events, it was already midnight by the time Yu Jinnian finished washing up and returned to his room. Ji Hong was carefully rolling up the red string and placing it in a small brocade pouch. Seeing Yu Jinnian return, he said, “This is a Vajra string. Even if you don’t wear it, don’t discard it casually; it’s meant to protect you.”
As they talked, they sat by the bed. Ji Hong began to comb Yu Jinnian’s hair. The boy was still growing, and his hair had turned from brown to black since they had settled down, becoming smoother and giving him a handsome appearance.
Yu Jinnian, touching the red string in the brocade pouch, asked, “What did the white-robed monk mean by this?”
Ji Hong, despite his dislike for the monk, admitted, “He gave you the Vajra string to wish you safety.”
Yu Jinnian, exhausted, didn’t want to dwell on it. He put the brocade pouch away and jumped onto the bed, saying, “Whatever, today’s been full of nonsense… Let’s go to sleep, Ah Hong!”
Ji Hong, caught off guard, was pushed onto the bed as Yu Jinnian climbed under the covers. Initially facing Ji Hong, Yu Jinnian felt his heart race with the man’s close breathing. Embarrassed, he turned over, covering his face with the blanket, wondering why he suddenly felt shy after sleeping together for so long.
He scooted to the edge of the bed, his mind in turmoil, and soon fell asleep with one hand hanging out of the covers, resting on the bed’s edge.
“You’re about to fall off,” Ji Hong whispered, seeing Yu Jinnian fast asleep. He carefully studied the boy’s sweet, peaceful sleeping face for a while before pulling him back into his arms, holding him close from behind. Recalling the kiss he had embellished earlier, Ji Hong closed his eyes, feeling very content.
Yu Jinnian, when asleep, became soft and cuddly. Despite being a naturally warm person, he curled up in his sleep when it got cold. Perhaps because Ji Hong’s embrace was so comfortable, his hunched back relaxed slightly, and the two of them spent the night sleeping chest to back.
…
Because they had stayed up late the previous night, Yu Jinnian woke up yawning repeatedly. Seeing Ji Hong still sleeping peacefully, he decided not to wake him. Moving stealthily, he dressed and put on his socks, forcing himself to wake up fully as he headed to the kitchen to start cooking. A thick fog had descended the previous night, and as expected, the weather had turned cold and damp, making everything outside feel uncomfortable. A thin layer of moisture had collected on the baskets and wooden buckets left in the courtyard, and Yu Jinnian shook them off before lowering a bucket into the well for water.
The sounds of peddlers were already echoing on the street. Yu Jinnian, with sharp ears, heard someone selling yantou rice and quickly sent Qing Huan to buy two pounds. Meanwhile, he ground polished rice and white glutinous rice into powder and took out a jar of ginseng powder he had bought from Mr. Luo, along with some white atractylodes and poria, all finely powdered.
It wasn’t long before Qing Huan returned with the yantou rice. Yu Jinnian took a handful and instructed her to grind it finely as well. He then boiled water with licorice, mint, anise, and a bit of sugar. Once it boiled twice, he set it aside to cool. By this time, Qing Huan had finished grinding the yantou rice powder. The yantou rice, being in season, was plump and smooth, with a slightly red outer layer and a tender white interior. It had a sweet and astringent taste, earning it the nickname “ginseng of the water” for its spleen and kidney benefits.
He mixed the medicinal powders with the ground yantou rice, polished rice, and glutinous rice powders, then blended them with the cooled herbal syrup. After bringing it to a boil again, he set the mixture to steam. The cake required careful monitoring; insufficient heat would leave it undercooked, while too much heat could burn it, wasting the valuable medicinal ingredients.
This cake he was making, known as five-spice cake, incorporated the Four Gentlemen’s Decoction: ginseng, white atractylodes, poria, and licorice. Ginseng, as the chief herb, was sweet and warm to nourish qi; white atractylodes strengthened the spleen and dried dampness; poria and licorice acted as assistants, harmonizing the overall formula. Naturally, the five-spice cake had similar benefits of strengthening the spleen and nourishing qi.
As he watched over the cake, Yu Jinnian also prepared another dish: golden eggs.
Despite the name sounding luxurious, golden eggs were made from simple ingredients: chicken, duck, or goose eggs. The process was somewhat unusual and always made Yu Jinnian wonder about the boredom of the person who first made them.
To make golden eggs, you had to wrap the eggs tightly in a cloth, secure the ends, and then shake them vigorously in one direction, over and over again. While this was the method, not every egg would turn out successfully; luck played a part.
When successful, the egg’s shell remained intact, but the yolk and white inside mixed evenly. After boiling, the egg, when peeled, would be a complete golden yellow inside, earning it the name “golden egg.” The texture was unique, with the white becoming softer and the yolk more elastic.
However, the most important part was the fun of eating it. Golden eggs could be sliced or quartered and served with dipping sauces like sesame or mustard, adding a touch of luxury with garnishes of green leaves and chrysanthemum petals.
While Yu Jinnian was busy shaking the eggs, Qing Huan rushed in from the front of the shop, lifting the kitchen curtain in frustration. “Mr. Yu, that Benefactor Yang is really ungrateful! We gave him a place to sleep for the night, and he doesn’t appreciate it. I brought him a cup of hot tea this morning, and he threw it to the ground, complaining about our noodle shop!”
“Calm down, Qing Huan. Tell me slowly, what happened?” Yu Jinnian asked.
Just as Qing Huan was about to explain, Ji Hong came out of the room, having heard her shouting from afar.
Seeing Ji Hong heading to the courtyard to wash with the cold well water, Yu Jinnian hurriedly stopped him. “It’s too early for cold water!” He fetched a basin of warm water and a towel for him before turning back to Qing Huan. “Continue, what happened?”
Qing Huan, having been angered by Benefactor Yang outside and then witnessing the two young masters’ tender interactions inside, felt even more frustrated. She vented her anger by rapidly recounting, “That Benefactor Yang woke up complaining of dizziness and nausea, saying he couldn’t stand up. Now he’s out front, yelling that our place is dirty and brought evil spirits onto him!”
Hearing this, Yu Jinnian shook his head and said, “Such a troublesome man.”