Lost for Words
The morning market was bustling with activity. Stalls selling fruits, vegetables, poultry, and fish were all set up along the sides. Even the goose at the noodle shop had laid a few eggs. Qing Huan, however, disliked goose eggs, finding them too gamey and tough. She thought they weren’t as fragrant as chicken eggs when boiled, nor as flavorful as duck eggs when pickled. She planned to sell them for a few copper coins, but Yu Jinnian managed to convince her to keep them. He took two goose eggs and made a plate of *thick egg omelette*.
*Thick egg omelette* required a lot of eggs, and since goose eggs were large and rich, one goose egg was equivalent to three chicken eggs, making it quite economical for this dish. Yu Jinnian cracked the two eggs into a bowl, adding a spoonful of sugar and a little less than half a spoon of salt—the ratio of sugar and salt depended on whether one preferred sweet or savory flavors. He prepared it according to his usual taste but suddenly remembered that Ji Hong didn’t like sweet eggs.
“Oh well,” he muttered to himself, “I’ll just steam a separate portion for Ji Hong.”
Using chopsticks, he whisked the eggs until a light foam formed. Then, he brushed a thin layer of oil onto the pan to prevent sticking and poured in the egg mixture to fry the egg layers. The key was controlling the heat—too much fire would burn the eggs, while too little oil wouldn’t allow the layers to puff up. Once the egg layers were cooked and folded, they were thick, full, and evenly shaped.
The dish was ready to be cut into sections and served with sweet osmanthus sauce, rose jam, or shrimp paste according to one’s preference.
After serving the thick egg omelette to Qing Huan and Sui Sui for breakfast, Yu Jinnian returned to the kitchen to prepare *steamed eggs in shell* for Ji Hong.
*Steamed eggs in shell*, as the name suggested, were eggs steamed within their shells, but the preparation was a bit more intricate. This time, Yu Jinnian cracked a goose egg from the pointed end, carefully making a small round opening. He poured out the egg liquid, minced a piece of fragrant mushroom, a small cube of lean meat, and two tiny shrimp. After mixing them into the egg liquid, he seasoned it with a few drops of yellow wine, a spoonful of salt, and six or seven Sichuan peppercorns to remove any fishiness and add warmth.
He then poured the seasoned egg mixture back into the shell, placed it on a small carved-out carrot base, and steamed it upright. Given Ji Hong’s appetite, one goose egg was more than enough to fill him up.
When steamed, the egg still looked whole from the outside, but peering inside revealed a delightful surprise. Scooping it with a spoon uncovered all sorts of delicious bits. While the dish wasn’t much different from regular steamed eggs in substance, its appearance made it more interesting and fun to eat.
If Yu Jinnian were cooking for himself, he wouldn’t have bothered with such fuss, but knowing it was for Ji Hong, he felt a burst of enthusiasm. He found himself constantly coming up with new ways to make Ji Hong happy.
Holding the *steamed egg in shell* delicately in his hands, Yu Jinnian crouched next to Ji Hong, who was rinsing his mouth at the well. Smiling mischievously, he said, “Try it, no one else got one.”
At that moment, Ji Hong’s face was still wet with water. Yu Jinnian had prepared warm water for him early in the morning, steam rising in the cool air. As droplets of water rolled down from Ji Hong’s forehead and hung on his lashes, he squinted one eye to look at what Yu Jinnian was holding.
His eyelashes were long, dark, and slightly curled, strikingly beautiful—almost too delicate for a man. Since he had just woken up, his hair was a bit tousled, making him appear even more endearing. Yu Jinnian’s heart raced. *This is bad,* he thought, but his hand couldn’t resist reaching up to brush against Ji Hong’s lashes, like stroking a feather—gentle but with a touch of impulsiveness.
The droplet hanging from Ji Hong’s lashes transferred to Yu Jinnian’s fingertip, sitting there like a dewdrop on the tip of a lotus leaf. Yu Jinnian stared at it, stunned.
His finger felt hot. His face felt hot. His heart felt hot. Everything seemed to burn, yet when he touched his face, it wasn’t warm at all. It felt as if the impulse bubbling inside him had received a gratifying response, like a wire connecting to an old, corroded battery, sparking dangerous yet thrilling electricity.
He almost crushed the egg in his hands, but Ji Hong was quick, snatching the egg away before it could be ruined.
After breakfast and ensuring Qing Huan was ready to open the shop for the day, they headed to the morning market to buy lamb. They had promised to make lamb wine earlier, and it was time to follow through. Unfortunately, the butcher was still sharpening his knives and hadn’t started processing the meat yet, so they placed an order with the butcher for eight pounds of lamb, both fatty and lean, with bones included. With the lamb reserved, they decided to stroll through the nearby Fruit Alley.
Fruit Alley was mostly filled with stalls selling fruits and vegetables, as well as a few selling small pastries, but these were homemade and not as refined as the high-end sweets and confections from the shops in the east of the city. However, they were honest and lacked any pretentious decorations.
As they walked along the street, they overheard someone loudly hawking “old pastries.”
Yu Jinnian turned toward the sound and saw two tall, muscular men with sly expressions. One had triangular eyes, and the other a ruddy nose. Their necks were tanned dark like bronze from the sun. One of them lowered the carrying pole from his shoulder, squatting in the corner and shouting, “Selling old pastries! Hey, anyone want to try some old pastries?”
Someone approached and asked, “Where are these from?”
The burly man whispered, “Spring Breeze Delight Restaurant’s golden fried pastries! Leftovers from yesterday. The boss said they didn’t want them, so my wife took them as a reward. Now, I’m selling them to you cheap for a treat!”
This was a common practice. Large, prestigious restaurants often discarded their day-old pastries, some of which were given to the staff, while others were tossed into the swill bucket. That’s how this small trade of selling “old pastries” came about. Most of these pastries could last four to five days without issue, and while the taste might not be as fresh, they were still edible and much cheaper than freshly made ones. These leftover pastries were often called “old pastries,” and their buyers were usually the poorer folk who wanted a taste of the luxuries enjoyed by the wealthy.
As soon as the men mentioned the golden fried pastries from Spring Breeze Delight Restaurant, a crowd immediately gathered around.
Yu Jinnian also moved closer to take a look. The tray was filled with various small biscuits, resembling the golden fried pastries he had made. But…
“This isn’t from Spring Breeze Delight Restaurant!”
A sharp, childish voice suddenly cut through the crowd. Everyone turned toward the sound, hearing the boy angrily exclaim, “My brother bought golden fried pastries from Spring Breeze Delight Restaurant for me before, and they don’t look like this at all! Brother Nian’s pastries all have small bowl imprints on the back. These don’t! You’re lying!”
The crowd parted, revealing a small, baby-faced boy standing by the tray, pointing out all the flaws in the pastries with righteous indignation.
Yu Jinnian was surprised to see that it was A-Chun, the half-witted boy who was always tagging along with Jing Zhong.
How could A-Chun have run out by himself?
A-Chun was indeed a bit slow-witted, and by publicly exposing the vendor’s deception, he had clearly angered the burly, triangular-eyed man. The man’s face twisted in rage, and the redness on his nose intensified as he raised his hand, ready to strike A-Chun.
Yu Jinnian instinctively took a step forward to intervene, but before he could act, a “whoosh” sound pierced the air. A walnut flew from afar, hitting the triangular-eyed man squarely in the forehead. The force of the blow made his head snap back, and it was clear from the impact that it wasn’t a light hit. The man clutched his head and cursed, “Who threw that at your grandpa?!”
“A-Chun!”
A figure pushed through the crowd, holding several small parcels. It was a man who rushed over to A-Chun, hurriedly checking him from head to toe. Clearly, he had been worried about A-Chun, and though relief was evident on his face, he was also visibly angry. His words carried the weight of his worry as he scolded, “Didn’t I tell you not to run off? How did you manage to go so far in just a moment? You—”
A-Chun, blinking in confusion and feeling wronged, twisted his fingers in his clothes. After a couple more reprimands, he couldn’t hold back anymore and began to tear up, his eyes welling with fat drops of tears. Trembling, he stood on his tiptoes, reached out, and cupped the man’s face—then, in front of everyone, kissed him on the cheek. Softly, he murmured, “Don’t be mad, don’t be mad, Brother. A-Chun knows he was wrong…”
The triangular-eyed man spat out in disgust, “Those two are *that*! Disgusting!”
“Shut your mouth!” His companion, the ruddy-nosed man, quickly covered his mouth and grabbed their cart, pulling him toward the edge of the crowd. “That’s *Loyalty Master Jing*! Do you want to die?!”
Others, fearing they’d get caught up in trouble, also began to disperse. As the two men squeezed past Yu Jinnian, the triangular-eyed man asked, “Who the hell is Loyalty Master Jing, that you’re so scared of him?”
The ruddy-nosed man whispered, “He’s from the docks—tough as nails. Used to be a beggar, then started working at the docks a few years ago, taking any job no matter how dangerous or low-paying. He’d haul rice sacks, do the roughest labor—basically, whatever it took to survive. But because of all the work he did, people started trying to steal his wages, and he fought constantly. His body’s covered in scars.”
The triangular-eyed man scoffed, “So what? Everyone’s fought someone. Back in the day, I—”
The ruddy-nosed man cut him off. “He killed someone.”
The triangular-eyed man froze. “What?”
The ruddy-nosed man scratched his head, grimacing as he explained, “Normally, fights like this are just about winning or losing, and that’s the end of it. But one time, a beggar got mad after losing. The next day, when Loyalty Master Jing was working at the docks, that beggar sneaked into his rundown temple outside the city—where Jing slept—and went after A-Chun. You know, that slow-witted kid. Just as the beggar was about to… well, you know, Loyalty Master Jing came back early from work. He caught the beggar with A-Chun’s pants down and…”
The triangular-eyed man’s eyes widened. “And what happened?”
The ruddy-nosed man grimaced even more. “He beat the beggar to death with his bare fists. Because it was a fight between beggars, the authorities didn’t bother investigating. The whole thing was hushed up. But after that, Loyalty Master Jing made some money at the docks, and now no one in the west side of the city dares cross him! Especially not when it comes to that kid—A-Chun is his weak spot.”
The triangular-eyed man winced, his body tense. “Damn it. Let’s get out of here. I can’t believe I almost hit that little monster!”
Yu Jinnian, having overheard the story, felt a tightening sensation in his chest. His brows furrowed slightly as his mind filled with the violent imagery. Ji Hong, sensing his discomfort, gently massaged his ear and whispered, “Don’t dwell on it.”
Yu Jinnian nodded, trying to shake the disturbing thoughts from his mind. He was about to guide Ji Hong away from the area, hoping to avoid any direct confrontation with Jing Zhong, when A-Chun suddenly called out, “Brother Nian!”
“…” Yu Jinnian sighed inwardly. Of course, when you think about someone, they always appear.
Jing Zhong, who had been wiping the tears from A-Chun’s face, froze when he heard A-Chun’s shout. His entire body stiffened, and he slowly turned around. A-Chun, on the other hand, had already sprinted toward Yu Jinnian and threw himself into his arms. Yu Jinnian caught him, holding him close and soothing him, all the while thinking to himself that if Ji Hong decided to lash out in anger and drag someone into an alley for a stabbing, at least he could use A-Chun to buy some time.
Then what? Well, if worst came to worst, they could always flee together.
Yu Jinnian remembered the last time he’d seen Jing Zhong—lying sick in bed, barely clinging to life. But now, he looked much healthier. His face had regained its color, and he stood tall, wearing a black silk robe. Jing Zhong certainly didn’t look like someone who had recently been on the verge of death. It was clear he had been a suitable choice as a bodyguard, handpicked by Ji Hong’s second brother. Jing Zhong carried himself with a quiet strength that no ordinary family upbringing could produce. From a distance, he even looked rather handsome.
If Yu Jinnian’s calculations were correct, Jing Zhong and his second brother were about the same age, which meant Jing Zhong was in his early thirties. Yet, fine lines had already started to gather around his eyes and brows, not in a way that made him appear old, but rather giving him an air of seasoned intensity. Just as those two vendors had said—Jing Zhong was clearly a “tough character.”
But at that moment, there was no toughness in Jing Zhong’s expression—only fear and helplessness. He stood dumbfounded as Ji Hong approached, unable even to muster the courage to take a step back. His lips trembled, trying to form words, but nothing came out. He stood there like a trembling flagpole, shaking in the wind.
Ji Hong, graceful as ever, walked up until he was shoulder to shoulder with Jing Zhong. Although men were said not to cry easily, Jing Zhong seemed to be holding back a flood of tears—whether they were from regret, bitterness, or some other deep emotion, it was hard to say. A myriad of emotions swirled inside him, like a bottle of mixed spices spilling out.
Just as Ji Hong was about to pass him, Jing Zhong’s legs gave way, and he nearly collapsed to his knees in a pitiful display of sorrow.
“Stand straight!” Ji Hong snapped.
Jing Zhong’s legs froze a foot off the ground, and he instantly straightened up.
Ji Hong’s voice dripped with cold sarcasm. “Those legs of yours are precious—my second brother couldn’t get you to kneel, so how could you possibly kneel before me?”
Jing Zhong stammered, “Young Master…”
“Shut up, how dare you say that?” Ji Hong suddenly kicked the back of Jing Zhong’s knee. Jing Zhong wobbled but managed to stand firm, gritting his teeth. Ji Hong’s voice was filled with disdain. “That title belongs to my second brother. It’s the last thing I would ever want to carry.”
“Second Master once told us,” Jing Zhong choked on his words, “that if… if anything happened to him, you would be the rightful heir to the title, the only one who could inherit it. You would become our sky, our law.”
Ji Hong sneered. “Jing Zhong, do you still remember my brother’s law?”
Jing Zhong nodded, his voice trembling. “Anyone who betrays him… shall have their eyes gouged out, tongue cut, and limbs severed…”
Before he could finish, he collapsed to his knees with a loud *thud*, groveling before Ji Hong. He reached out, wanting to grab Ji Hong’s legs but hesitated, his hands hovering before they finally clutched the dirt at Ji Hong’s feet. He looked up at Ji Hong, pleading, “I will, I will! Third Master, Jing Zhong knows his crime, knows the sin he committed in a moment of foolishness. Ever since I fled, I haven’t had a peaceful night’s sleep. I know I can never redeem myself, but I still have unfinished business…”
“After Second Master’s death, I secretly returned to the estate once, only to find out that all the remaining guards had been sent away. Now they’re scattered across the world. But Duan Ming, Shi Xing, and the others each held something of Second Master’s. It was as if Second Master had foreseen that he wouldn’t return, and he told us, should the worst happen, to leave those things to you. But in the end, I was the only one left alive.”
Ji Hong’s pupils shrank. He grabbed Jing Zhong’s collar, his voice quivering with barely contained emotion. “My brother left something for me?”
“Yes, yes,” Jing Zhong lowered his head. “I don’t know what it is. For the past few years, I’ve wandered, trying to find them, but the world is vast…” He hesitated as he saw the glint of despair in Ji Hong’s eyes, quickly adding, “But recently, just as I recovered from my illness, I heard that Duan Ming was in a small town northwest of here, working as a blacksmith…”
Ji Hong seemed momentarily stunned. Just then, Yu Jinnian approached, catching the tail end of the conversation about Ji Hong’s brother leaving something for him. Yu tugged at Ji Hong’s waistcoat, bringing him back to reality. Ji Hong threw Jing Zhong aside, his voice cold and restrained. “Get lost. I don’t want to see you again.”
He spared Jing Zhong’s life, for the sake of his brother’s legacy.
Yu Jinnian knew just how much Ji Hong longed to have something, anything, left behind by his brother. Something meant for him specifically, not just scraps he had fought to recover from others.
Jing Zhong knelt and bowed twice, and A-Chun, sensing the tension between his brother and Ji Hong, stood silently, realizing that it was his brother who had wronged Ji Hong. He didn’t dare say a word. Instead, A-Chun fumbled in his sleeve and pulled out a small paper packet. Sneaking a glance at Ji Hong, he shyly handed it to Yu Jinnian. “A-Chun’s favorite… zongzi candy.”
Children were simple; to them, a piece of candy or a fruit was a treasure. Yu Jinnian took two pieces and patted A-Chun’s head. “Go now. It’s best if we don’t meet again.”
A-Chun looked back with every step as he followed Jing Zhong away. Yu Jinnian opened his palm and held out the candy to Ji Hong. “Want some? A-Chun gave it to you to make amends. He saw that you were angry.”
Ji Hong’s gaze returned to Yu Jinnian. “What do I care about him? What use is his attempt to please me?”
Yu Jinnian paused, then, with a smile, said, “What about me trying to please you? Is there any use in that?” He stopped walking, holding up one of the candies, squinting at it in the sunlight. The translucent wrapper showed a tiny yellow-white flower inside, probably osmanthus-flavored. He stared at the delicate little flower inside the candy and chuckled.
Ji Hong tilted his head, his gaze softening as he watched Yu Jinnian. It seemed he was curious to see how this so-called attempt at pleasing him would play out.
Just then, a carriage with purple silk curtains passed by, its wheels muffling the sounds around them. As the carriage drew close, obscuring them from view, Yu Jinnian removed the candy and, taking advantage of the moment, stood on his tiptoes and pressed his lips to Ji Hong’s.
It was quick and somewhat reckless, like a secret stolen in broad daylight. Ji Hong’s eyes lit up, alive with joy, as if the cold, composed man had suddenly come to life. He lowered his head, meeting Yu Jinnian halfway in response. The carriage rolled on, and when it had passed, they separated, their expressions as calm as if nothing had happened. Except, of course, for the slight flush of satisfaction on both their faces.
“Hm,” Ji Hong replied softly, his voice calm. “It was very effective.”
Yu Jinnian licked his lips, teasing, “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.”
Neither of them noticed that the purple curtain of the carriage had briefly been pulled back, only to be slammed down again in frustration. Inside the carriage sat none other than Yan Rong, recently returned from outside the city. The fleeting glimpse of the two men had shocked him. He had never seen anything like it. Even with his newlywed wife, he had never shared such a moment of intimacy. The sight churned his stomach, making him feel as though he had swallowed a live shrimp, which was now wriggling up his throat. Horrified, he clapped his hand over his mouth.
The idea of engaging in such closeness with a woman already made him uneasy—let alone with another man. In a daze, Yan Rong rode back to his estate. As he stepped out of the carriage, a maid hurried over to help him, lifting the curtain. A pale, delicate hand, adorned with a simple wooden bracelet, reached out to greet him. “Sir, the lady has prepared a special fish dish for you—red-braised fish lips. You’ll be able to enjoy it for lunch!”
Yan Rong, already feeling queasy, was startled out of his wits. “What… what lips?!”
The maid smiled innocently, “Red-braised fish lips… Sir, are you feeling unwell?”
Realizing she was talking about a fish dish, Yan Rong waved her away in frustration and jumped out of the carriage, grumbling, “This world is turning upside down, men and women are meant to be…”
Just as he rounded the corner to the inner courtyard, he saw a group of maids bustling toward the side rooms, carrying basins, tea, and all sorts of other items. He stopped one of them and asked, “What’s the matter?”
The maid replied, “Fifth Miss’s eye ailment has flared up again. She’s writhing in pain in bed.”
Yan Rong, concerned, quickly asked, “Has the doctor been called?”
“Call a doctor? Of course, we did…” The maid stamped her foot in frustration. “But it’s been no use! We’ve had doctors from both Shouren Hall and Jiaan Hall come several times. We even called Old Master Luo, and just last night, we paid a hefty sum to invite Master Zou, but none of their treatments have worked! Fifth Miss finally fell asleep from exhaustion in the early morning, but when she woke up today and tried to sew a few stitches of her wedding dress, her illness returned, and it’s worse than before. She says her vision is blurry, and she can’t see clearly at all…”
Yan Rong frowned deeply and waved his hand impatiently. “Go, go. Take good care of her.”
As he stepped into the back hall, an elderly lady emerged from the side corridor, walking briskly with the help of a cane and two attendants. Yan Rong’s heart sank, and he hurried over, bracing himself as he greeted her. “Grandmother!”
“Don’t ‘Grandmother’ me!” The old woman glanced behind him, seeing that he was alone, and angrily stamped her cane on the ground. She sighed heavily, “Look at Yao’er. Her condition worsens by the day. She’s already engaged, and you expect her to marry into another family while wrapped in illness? How is your father supposed to hold his head high and maintain his position in office? I might as well skip my birthday celebration and let my old face be buried in the dirt along with your father’s!”
Yan Rong bowed his head, murmuring, “Please, Grandmother, don’t get angry. I’ll go to another county and find a different doctor.”
The old lady’s face hardened with frustration. “Another doctor? What doctor? Even Old Master Luo and Master Zou can’t do anything, and you think you’ll bring a royal physician from the capital?”
Yan Rong hesitated, unsure of what to say. “Well…”
Luo Qian and Zou Heng were indeed the most reputable doctors in Xinan County. Just yesterday, Yan Rong had traveled to a nearby county to search for another famous doctor, only to discover that the physician had returned to his hometown, and there was no telling when he’d be back. It would take at least two more days to seek help elsewhere.
Suddenly, the old lady’s eyes brightened. “What about that young doctor who saved you? Can we ask him to come take a look at Yao’er?”
“No!” Yan Rong’s face immediately darkened.
“And why not?” The old lady began to sob as she struck her cane on the floor. Her despair made the two attendants struggle to hold her up. “Doctors are compassionate! Yao’er is so ill, and yet you won’t even give this a try! Are you waiting for her illness to spread to the capital so the engagement is called off? Will you only be satisfied when our family’s reputation is ruined? Oh, what have I done in my old age to deserve this…”
Yan Rong, feeling cornered, mumbled, “Grandmother…”
“Don’t call me Grandmother! If you won’t ask him, then you don’t have me as a grandmother anymore!”
Yan Rong was speechless.
—
Meanwhile, back at the noodle shop, Yu Jinnian and Ji Hong had returned with some fresh fruit. Along the way, they had come across a cart selling winter jujubes—crisp and sweet with a mix of red and green colors—so Yu Jinnian bought two pounds to share with the women in the shop. He also purchased pickled cucumbers, ginger, and a jar of eight-treasure pickles from a nearby store.
The *eight-treasure pickles* were a type of northern delicacy, made with a variety of vegetables like kohlrabi, silver sprouts, bamboo shoots, peanuts, lotus root, cucumbers, and tender ginger buds. Each vegetable had a different water content and pickling time, requiring careful timing to ferment properly before being mixed together in the jar. Despite the care needed to make them, Yu Jinnian found it much easier (and cheaper) to buy them ready-made.
After returning to the noodle shop, Yu Jinnian soaked some glutinous rice in preparation for making *lamb wine*. He also boiled the lamb, both lean and fatty cuts, along with almonds in one pot. The lamb wine, known for replenishing vital energy, would be perfect to open during the snowy season, allowing them to drink by the fire and admire the moon—an idyllic scene indeed.
Ji Hong seemed to be in an unusually good mood, likely due to the news about his second brother leaving something for him. He hadn’t mentioned Jing Zhong again, and Yu Jinnian felt relieved, finally able to focus on his brewing tasks in the kitchen. With Qing Huan’s help, he took extra care with the lamb wine, mindful that any small mistake could turn the batch into spoiled liquid.
By the time they finished sealing the jars, it was already nightfall.
…
As they were relaxing, a sudden, urgent knocking echoed through the noodle shop’s door, followed by a loud voice shouting, “Young Doctor! Young Doctor! Please open the door! Doctor Yu, we need you!”
Yu Jinnian perked up his ears, recognizing that they were calling for him. He quickly got up, bending down to pick up his clothes. “You stay here. I’ll go see what’s going on.”
“I’ll come with you,” Ji Hong said as he propped himself up, brushing his long hair back over his shoulders. His robe hung open at the front, where Yu Jinnian had tugged it loose earlier, revealing just a hint of his waistline. Yu Jinnian swallowed hard, hastily pulling on his clothes. “Fine, but you should put on something warmer.”
The two of them headed to the front of the shop. Yu Jinnian called out through the door, “Coming!” He slid the door open just enough to peek out and asked, “Who is it? What’s the emergency at this hour—” He paused in surprise. “It’s you?”
The person outside stiffened, suddenly lost for words. He hesitated for a moment before flinging his sleeves in embarrassment and turning away, his ears and face quickly reddening. “This is… this is so improper! Put on… put on your clothes properly, will you!”
Caught up in the urgency of the moment, the person’s formal tone suddenly slipped into a southern dialect, which, combined with his flushed face, made the whole scene oddly amusing.