What illness brings such a calamity upon you?
“You rotten wood!”
The ruler landed heavily on Su Ting’s back, jolting him awake from his nap in shock. As he regained his senses, he noticed the other students laughing at him. He steadied himself, but after receiving a few more strikes, the teacher’s anger subsided. He sat back down, but his mind was far from studying. All he could think about was how to earn money and how to treat Haitang’s illness, but no matter how hard he thought, he only ended up with a sigh: “A scholar is of no practical use.”
Last night, after Haitang had gone to sleep, he sneaked out to take on a night job as a temporary laborer just for a handful of coins.
Though it’s said that the living can’t be suffocated by their own bladder, being penniless truly makes life difficult. Su Ting was in such a state now, unable to come up with any solutions. After school, he wandered aimlessly out of the academy, only to be kicked to the ground by someone. They tore through his cloth bag, mocking him for being so poor and yet still trying to achieve something for his family’s honor.
One of them raised his hand and threw Su Ting’s belongings into a nearby gutter. Another person pinned Su Ting to the ground, laughing as they tossed his two books into the water. Then, they pulled out two cold buns and an egg from his bag, causing the group to burst into laughter. Su Ting’s eyes widened when he saw the food—those were leftovers he had prepared for Haitang the day before. When had Haitang snuck them into his bag? In a burst of anger, Su Ting broke free, leapt up, and snatched his things back. With a sweeping kick, he sent the arrogant young man tumbling into the gutter.
The gutter wasn’t deep, and the water barely reached the knees, but the bottom was coated with a layer of foul-smelling muck. The young man wasn’t physically hurt, but Su Ting was expelled from the academy because of it.
The teacher’s dissatisfaction with Su Ting wasn’t new. Today’s incident was just an excuse to stop teaching such an ignorant pupil.
Standing outside the academy, Su Ting pondered for a while, then, later that night, climbed over the wall into the teacher’s courtyard.
Su Ting returned home very late that day. The snow outside made the streets as bright as daylight. Bai Haitang, loosely wrapped in a coat, was anxiously looking around the alley near the theater. After what seemed like ages, he finally spotted a familiar figure walking toward him. “Ting-lang!” He hurried to meet him, almost tripping in his haste, which startled Su Ting.
“Haitang, why are you out here?”
Su Ting tried to take off his coat to wrap it around Haitang, but Haitang stubbornly refused, keeping a distance of a few steps between them. He followed Su Ting slowly, noticing how filthy he was, with a bruised face and a torn cloth bag. He asked worriedly, “What happened to you?”
“It’s nothing. I accidentally fell, and my books dropped into the water. The academy is on break tomorrow, so I won’t be going back. I’ll stay home with you.” As Su Ting spoke, he somehow produced a plum blossom, a red, vibrant one. Leading Haitang back to their small room, he happily guided him to the bedside. “Haitang, come here.”
Bai Haitang, feeling uneasy, sat on the bed. When Su Ting reached out to touch his face, Haitang flinched and softly whispered, “Don’t touch…”
“Don’t move.” Su Ting pouted slightly, dipped the plum blossom petals in the snow, and carefully placed the damp petals on the blisters on Haitang’s neck and scalp. After applying them, he quickly brought a ceramic bowl of water and held it in front of Haitang. “Look, how do you like it?”
Through the water’s reflection, Haitang faintly saw his face, now adorned with petals. He smiled, causing a few petals to fall off. “It looks nice.”
Su Ting set the bowl aside, while Haitang got off the bed and carefully took out Su Ting’s soaked books from his bag. He gently opened them to let them dry. As he looked at the characters on the pages, he suddenly seemed to discover something precious and pointed at one of the characters. “I know this one—it’s the ‘Ting’ in your name.”
Su Ting watched as Haitang marveled at the character, then suddenly asked, “Why did the food I left for you end up in my bag?”
Haitang, looking like a child caught misbehaving, nervously gripped his clothing and glanced at Su Ting. “It doesn’t matter if I eat or not. You need to eat more so you can study well.”
Su Ting wanted to tell him that he had just fallen out with the teacher, sneaked into his house, and had been beaten up by the teacher’s servants. Not only had he shamelessly demanded the return of his tuition money, but he had also broken the teacher’s plum tree and endured a barrage of insults, even being called a “little scoundrel.” They warned him that if he ever appeared at the academy again, they’d tie him up and throw him into the river.
“Haitang,” Su Ting leaned closer and gazed seriously at him before saying, “I want you.”
The word “want” could carry many meanings, but in this context, there was only one possible interpretation. Bai Haitang was so startled that he nearly bolted out the door. Instead, he stumbled and fell to the ground, the plum petals on his face scattering all over. He ignored the petals, desperately crawling a few steps toward the back of the room, then looked back in terror to see Su Ting already standing before him. He was so scared he was on the verge of tears. “Ting-lang, please…”
“Why can’t I?” Su Ting felt even more sorrowful than Haitang.
Haitang shook his head repeatedly. “It’s me. I can’t. Ting-lang, I really can’t.”
“…I’m sorry.” Su Ting stood up without saying more, taking out the egg from his bag and peeling it. Knowing that Haitang wouldn’t eat it unless he did, Su Ting took a bite before handing it over. “Eat this, and pretend what I said earlier was just a joke.”
Haitang accepted the egg and slowly ate it, bite by bite.
Later that night, Su Ting was awakened by soft groaning. He opened his eyes to see Haitang’s thin, arched back on the bed. He hurried over, panicking, asking where the pain was coming from and why it had suddenly worsened.
“Sorry, Ting-lang, I woke you.” Haitang, wrapped in his blanket, said, “I’m fine… go back to sleep.”
Su Ting was furious. “How can you say you’re fine when you’re groaning like that?” He suddenly realized that this must be how Haitang felt every night, enduring the pain in silence, only losing control tonight.
Forced back to bed, Su Ting lay there, hearing the occasional muffled moan from Haitang. He felt helpless, wishing he could take the pain in his place. But he had no way to help, so he pulled the blanket over his head, curling up in the dark, biting down hard on his teeth.
It wasn’t until the middle of the night that Haitang finally fell asleep. Su Ting quietly got up, wrung out a damp towel, and gently wiped away the cold sweat from Haitang’s forehead, being careful to avoid the blisters.
Having made up his mind, Su Ting blew out the candle, locked the door, grabbed the curved knife, and the tuition money he had retrieved from the teacher, and left into the night.
The wind and snow intensified, and red lanterns adorned the fronts of shops along the street. The lanterns bore words of blessing like “Wealth and Prosperity” and “Five Blessings,” casting a red glow over the long street. The snow on the ground was slick and treacherous, crunching underfoot. As Su Ting walked, he took out the silver from his sleeve and counted it. Though it wasn’t much, it should be enough for a visit to the doctor.
Tomorrow was the twenty-seventh, and soon it would be New Year’s Eve. Once the markets reopened after the holiday, he wouldn’t need to return to the academy. The money he saved from books and supplies would be a small surplus. By then, he could sneak out and find some odd jobs. Life would surely find a way forward.
Before his family’s decline, Su Ting had been entirely focused on studying the Confucian classics, never concerning himself with financial matters. Although they had become poorer later on, Haitang had supported him, so he hadn’t suffered much hardship. Now, as the pillar of the household, he was tasting the bitterness of life for the first time and realizing just how ridiculous his previous lofty attitude had been.
Today, Su Ting had caused a huge commotion at the academy, marking a break from his previously aimless life. After today, once he hired a doctor for Haitang, he would find a job and settle down. It didn’t matter what kind of work—he would even do hard labor—but he wouldn’t resort to petty theft again. Now it was his turn to support Haitang.
Thinking this, Su Ting felt a faint lightness in his heart, as if he could already see the dawn of the next day. He was about to run to a noodle shop when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow flicker in a nearby alley. He didn’t think much of it, but just as he took a step forward, a figure suddenly lunged out, swinging a wooden stick, and struck him hard on the back, knocking him down into the snow.
Dazed, Su Ting lay on the ground, hearing the sound of footsteps around him—at least three or five people, judging by the noise.
“Who… are you…”
“I’m your grandpa!” The man with the stick struck him again on the back, then squatted down to tear at Su Ting’s clothes, snarling, “You don’t even know who you’ve offended? Hand over the silver!”
Su Ting thought of the young master he had pushed into the water earlier and, clutching his chest, tried to explain, “I don’t have—”
“Bullshit!” The man spat and ordered the others to search Su Ting. He himself circled Su Ting a few times before raising his foot and stomping on the back of Su Ting’s head, pressing his face into the ground. “With that famous opera singer keeping you, you think I believe you don’t have money? Don’t talk nonsense, or we’ll beat you to death!”
The group of thugs showed no mercy, kicking and punching Su Ting relentlessly.
Outnumbered and knowing he stood no chance, Su Ting refused to get up, letting them stomp on his head while he stayed curled up like a turtle on the ground. He tightly protected the small curved knife hidden against his chest. Enraged, the leader of the gang grabbed Su Ting by the hair and dragged him forward, scraping his limbs on the ground until they bled. The snow beneath him was stained red from the blood running down his pants.
The leader spat again, yanking Su Ting’s head up. “You’re pathetic! Been hanging around that opera singer so long you don’t even act like a man anymore!”
He sneered, “But I have to say, that Bai Haitang of yours is quite the beauty. Looks like a man, but is even more delicate than a woman. Not that it’s any surprise—he’s been passed around enough. Only a fool like you would still want to pick up the scraps! What, gave up your scholar’s dignity for some worthless goods?”
Su Ting’s eyes burned with fury as he glared at him. “Shut your mouth!”
“Oh, struck a nerve, did I?” The thug laughed. He had been paid to humiliate Su Ting, so he picked the most hurtful things to say. “That rich merchant who sells rouge? I heard he had your singer crying for his mother. Did you know? Who knows what kind of dirty things they did—three people, five people, maybe a dozen? Who knows! And I hear that money he earned? He used it to send you to that academy.”
Su Ting had never heard of such things before, and he stared at the man, trembling with anger. “What are you saying… what are you talking about? You’re the one spewing nonsense!”
“Tsk tsk, such foul language for a scholar. Let me teach you some manners!” The leader kicked him again, grabbed his hair, and slapped him across the face repeatedly. After landing dozens of blows, he finally relaxed, stretching his neck. “Ah, teaching a scholar a lesson is so satisfying!”
Su Ting was barely conscious by then, and the group looked ready to hit him again when a night watchman appeared in the distance. Not wanting trouble, they each kicked Su Ting one more time, spat on him, and left, yelling, “Don’t forget this beating!”
The night watchman, seeing someone lying in the snow, rushed over in alarm. “Do you need me to call a doctor?”
“No.” Su Ting waved the man off and struggled to his feet. His curved knife was still in his possession, but when he checked his sleeves, his clothes were torn, and the silver coins in his pouch had been stolen, leaving only two dirty copper coins.
The watchman shook his head and called after him, “Young man, it’s the New Year. You should head home early!”
Su Ting stumbled forward, each step unsteady. The knife hanging at his waist jingled with each movement.
Home? How could he go home now?
Su Ting, with his head down, began to run, tripping and falling a few times along the way. When he finally looked up, he saw a pair of oval-shaped orange-red lanterns overhead, with large, graceful characters spelling out the word “Fortune” on them. Below the word was a painting of a small bowl. The cold wind made the lanterns sway slightly, causing the flickering flame inside to waver, almost going out several times.
He reached up, trying to steady the lantern, but when he saw his blood-stained hands clutching two miserable copper coins, it felt like a mockery of his own powerlessness. His thoughts returned to Haitang, and the cruel words the thugs had said, unsure if they were true or not.
It was a night of endless turmoil.
…
On the 27th day of the last lunar month, just days before New Year’s Eve, most of the shops on the street were closed. Only a few stores selling New Year’s goods remained open, but even they opened later than usual. It seemed that the laziness of the holiday had been around since ancient times. Even the early morning snow sweepers were fewer than usual.
After another night of snow, the entrance to the noodle shop was covered in white. Yu Jinnian woke up freezing, realizing that he had been sleeping poorly and had left one arm outside the blanket. The small heater in the room had long gone cold, but at least the blanket was still warm like a furnace. He pulled his arm back under the blanket and snuggled into the embrace behind him, relishing the warmth for a while before reluctantly getting up to start his day.
He refueled the heater with coal, placed it back in the room, and filled a water bottle with hot water to tuck into Ji Hong’s bed. Only then did he quietly close the door and head to the kitchen to make breakfast.
In the kitchen, a freshly slaughtered chicken was simmering into a pot of rich broth. Yu Jinnian skimmed off the fat and simmered it on low heat, adding diced winter bamboo shoots, fresh mushrooms, and some tender greens. Afterward, he went outside to fetch some water, shivering from the cold wind, and upon returning, he tossed two pieces of fresh ginger into the soup. He quickly mixed a bowl of thick dough with water, and when the vegetables were cooked, he deftly dropped the dough pieces into the boiling broth to make “mouse noodles.”
Soon, the irregularly shaped dough pieces floated to the surface, bouncing around like little mice scurrying about.
Before going to bed the night before, he had asked Qing Huan to bury some taro in the stove’s ashes, and he wondered if Qing Huan had remembered. Squatting by the stove, he poked around with a fire stick and, sure enough, found a small taro. Over the night, the residual heat from the ashes had perfectly cooked the taro, making it soft but not mushy. Unlike steamed or boiled taro, this method gave it a subtly different texture. Peeling away the skin, the soft white flesh melted in his mouth, with a faint smoky flavor that was simply delicious.
In ancient times, people called taro “earth ginseng,” and the small roasted taro pieces were referred to as “earth ginseng pills.” There was even a saying: “When the taro is cooked, even the emperor can’t compare to me.” As Yu Jinnian sat by the fire, eating the taro, occasionally dipping it in some white sugar, he felt so content in the cold winter that he wouldn’t trade places with anyone, not even for a throne.
There weren’t many customers at the noodle shop, and there wasn’t much to do besides preparing New Year’s goods like firecrackers and red paper. After lounging by the kitchen fire for a while, he suddenly heard a few meows. Excited, he rushed out and looked up at the roof. Sure enough, a fat cat was making its way across the tiles.
“Little Dingdang!” He reached out his arms, and the cat jumped down, landing squarely on his chest, nearly knocking the wind out of him. “Where have you been stealing food? You’ve gotten so fat! No one will marry you at this rate!”
The cat squinted at him disdainfully, then wriggled out of his arms and swaggered into the kitchen.
Yu Jinnian eagerly followed, preparing a bowl of rice soaked in fish fillets and shrimp for the cat. As he ran his hand through Little Dingdang’s thick fur, there was a sudden crash—the flower rack by the courtyard wall had toppled over. This winter’s winds seemed particularly fierce, having damaged nearly everything in the courtyard.
“Sigh,” Yu Jinnian sighed, resigned to the task of fixing the flower rack. He tied it up securely with rope to prevent it from falling again and potentially injuring someone. As he cleaned up the tools, he remembered the two lanterns hanging in front of the shop, wondering how many had been blown askew by last night’s snowstorm.
Just then, Ji Hong had woken up. Yu Jinnian said, “There’s warm water in the kitchen. Use that while I go open the shop.”
He walked toward the front, hearing the sound of hurried footsteps, the creaking of door panels being removed, and then a startled shout: “—Oh my goodness!”
Ji Hong had barely finished splashing warm water on his face when he rushed to the front hall. “What happened?”
A man had collapsed onto the floor, dressed in plain scholar’s robes, covered in injuries. His clothes were stained with blood, patches of which had soaked through the fabric, and the snow on his hems and hair, blown by the wind overnight, had mixed with the blood and frozen into icy clumps. His face was deathly pale, his lips blue, and he was trembling on the verge of freezing to death. He lay at Yu Jinnian’s feet, shivering uncontrollably, and after what seemed like an eternity, he opened his eyes, as if suddenly recalling something. However, his legs refused to cooperate, and he could only twitch feebly from side to side.
Yu Jinnian gasped in surprise. “How is it him?”
Ji Hong asked, “Do you know him?”
“I saw him once at Doctor Luo’s place, I think he was there to seek treatment. We didn’t talk much. I have no idea how he ended up here, or why he’s so badly injured.” As Yu Jinnian spoke, he pulled Su Ting inside, then dashed to the room to fetch two thick blankets—one to place under Su Ting and the other to wrap around him. He also brought a small heater, placing it nearby to gently warm him.
A frozen person couldn’t be suddenly exposed to heat, as it would cause severe pain later on. The warming had to be gradual to prevent any long-term damage.
Yu Jinnian prepared a basin of warm water, adjusting the temperature to match the body’s warmth. He soaked a towel, wrung it out, and began rubbing Su Ting’s hands slowly. It took quite a while, but eventually, Su Ting started to regain feeling in his limbs. Seeing this, Yu Jinnian said, “Ah Hong, there’s some mouse noodles in the pot. Please bring me a bowl, along with two of the taro from the stove and some sugar.”
Ji Hong soon returned with a tray of food. Yu Jinnian helped Su Ting sit up. “Eat up. You need to warm up before we can talk.”
Su Ting stared at the fresh, hot food on the table. Even though it was just simple boiled taro, it emitted an unusually alluring fragrance. Instinctively, he wanted to hide the taro and take it back for Haitang. He had already grabbed one, ready to sneak it into his coat, when he suddenly realized what he was doing. Looking up, he saw Yu Jinnian watching him curiously, and shame flooded him.
Just the other day, he had stolen from this person, and now he was about to steal again.
Su Ting, oh Su Ting, you really are a scoundrel.
Cursing himself silently, he returned the taro to the plate, swallowing his guilt. Rubbing his hands together nervously, he finally suppressed his craving for the food’s aroma and said, “I’m sorry.”
Yu Jinnian sensed his discomfort and, recalling the previous time Su Ting had come seeking treatment, guessed there might be someone sick at home. With a kind tone, he said, “If you like it, take it. It’s not some rare treasure.”
Su Ting was so ashamed he couldn’t even lift his head. He thought, how could there be someone so kind in this world? He had studied the teachings of sages, but all he did was commit lowly acts. Overwhelmed by guilt, he suddenly dropped to his knees, pulling out the small curved knife from his coat.
Yu Jinnian gasped. “My knife!” He took the beloved knife, cradling it fondly, momentarily forgetting to ask how it ended up with Su Ting. He was so relieved to have it back that he didn’t even question the knife’s journey.
But Su Ting confessed, “I’m sorry… I stole it from the teacher.”
Yu Jinnian, astonished, scrutinized Su Ting carefully. He finally recognized a faint resemblance to the little thief he had encountered before, despite Su Ting’s face now being swollen beyond recognition. His eyes widened. “It’s you! The little thief!”
Just then, Duan Ming arrived for work. Yu Jinnian called out, “Brother Duan, throw him out for me!”
Though Duan Ming didn’t fully understand the situation, he knew the hierarchy in the house—Ji Hong’s word was law, and the young master came second. Without asking questions, he rolled up his sleeves, grabbed Su Ting, and dragged him toward the door.
“Little doctor! Little doctor!” Su Ting clung to Yu Jinnian’s leg, throwing away all sense of pride. He looked up, pleading, “I’m a scoundrel. I stole your things, and I deserve to die for it. But I really don’t have the money to treat Haitang. Little doctor, you’re a good person. I’ll repay you however I can—just please, come take a look at Haitang. I’ll pay you back for the treatment somehow…”
Yu Jinnian kicked him aside and retreated to Ji Hong’s side, clutching his precious knife, too angry to help but laugh. “So because I’m a good person, I deserve to be taken advantage of? I haven’t even found a single sheep to shear! Brother Duan, throw him out!”
“I, I…” Su Ting stammered, but the tuition money he had retrieved had been stolen by the thugs. Now he had nothing left but two measly copper coins. Tears welled up as he realized the depth of his self-made misfortune. He had stolen from Yu Jinnian, only for others to steal from him in turn. What a cruel cycle of karma! Duan Ming lifted him effortlessly and tossed him out of the noodle shop like a rag, sending him rolling in the snow.
Yu Jinnian ran out, throwing the two taros after him, slamming the door shut in anger.
“Little master, throwing taro at him? Isn’t that like tossing steamed buns to a dog?” Duan Ming said with a laugh. “There’s no need to be soft with people like him. If it were up to me, I’d send him to the authorities. Stealing is punishable by seventy lashes, two years of hard labor, and chopping off a hand!”
Yu Jinnian, having been unable to eat or sleep properly for days over the loss of his knife, was still seething. Had Su Ting stolen only money, Yu Jinnian might have brushed it off, perhaps even sympathizing with his plight. But the fact that he had stolen the treasured knife made it unforgivable. Just as he was about to agree with Duan Ming’s suggestion of two years of hard labor, the mention of chopping off a hand gave him pause.
“Little master, you’ve got a soft heart,” Duan Ming sighed, returning to the front to set up tables and chairs, preparing to open the shop.
With everyone busy, the shop soon filled with a few customers, and Yu Jinnian, distracted by work, pushed aside the morning’s frustrations. He went to the kitchen to prepare meals, and since it was the New Year, most patrons ordered meat dishes. Knife in hand, Yu Jinnian busied himself with the tasks, quickly forgetting the earlier unpleasantness.
Ji Hong, meanwhile, stayed in the kitchen with him, carefully cleaning the curved knife with a cloth soaked in strong liquor, polishing every gem until it gleamed. He then rinsed it with clean water before fastening it back to Yu Jinnian’s waist.
Yu Jinnian said, “I think I’ll stop wearing it. It’s lucky to have made its way back.”
Ji Hong smiled at his contradiction. “If you like it, wear it. It’s no big deal.”
Despite the reassurance, Yu Jinnian still hesitated. Fortunately, he planned to spend the entire day in the back courtyard, with no intention of interacting with outsiders, so there was little concern about the knife disappearing again. It wasn’t until after lunch, when Yu Jinnian awoke from a nap, that he finally remembered to check on the two rice sacks hanging in the courtyard. Inside were the rice slurries that Duan Ming had painstakingly ground over the past few days—one of glutinous rice and one of regular rice.
At this point, the two cloth sacks had finished draining their water content. Yu Jinnian took them down and spread the contents out in two winnowing baskets. Using a small wooden mallet, he patiently crushed the powdery lumps inside, then sifted them through a fine sieve, yielding glutinous rice flour and sticky rice flour. The texture of the New Year cake would depend on the ratio of the two flours—more glutinous rice flour would make the cake chewier.
Yu Jinnian didn’t care for overly chewy cakes, so he mixed two parts sticky rice flour with one part glutinous rice flour. After steaming the mixture, he brushed it with oil and used the mallet to knead the dough, shaping it into long strips to cool. The cakes weren’t just for his household; they were also for the young master of the Jiang family. Ever since the gingerbread man, Jiang Bingren, had gotten involved with Shi Xing—who was one of Ji Hong’s men—he had practically adopted *One Bowl Noodle Shop* as his personal kitchen, coming around every few days to ask Yu Jinnian for food.
Jiang Bingren had grown tired of his family’s New Year cakes and, upon hearing that the noodle shop was making cakes as well, insisted on getting involved. He specifically requested sugar osmanthus fruit cakes, which required the addition of osmanthus and various chopped nuts to the rice dough before steaming.
Yu Jinnian couldn’t refuse but wasn’t going to let him have it for free either. He handed a list to Shi Xing, detailing the ingredients he needed: five liang of dried ginger, five liang of salt-pickled white plums, one liang of sweet pine, two liang of sandalwood, and five portions of licorice. He asked Shi Xing to take the list to Shouren Hall to have the herbs ground into powder and brought back to him.
This was the preparation for *Five Beauties Ginger Tea*, originally made by marinating young ginger slices in medicinal herbs. The tea had properties to dispel wind and cold, warming the body. However, knowing Ji Hong’s refined tastes and dislike for the pungent smell of such remedies, Yu Jinnian modified the recipe, grinding the herbs into a fine powder instead of using slices.
Mixing three parts of the powder with tea created a drink that was not only invigorating but also refreshingly pleasant.
Once Yu Jinnian had finished steaming the New Year cakes, Shi Xing arrived with the herbs. He wasn’t alone; he had come with a monk, who was there to collect alms. Following local custom, Yu Jinnian cut a piece of red paper, wrapped a coin in it, and tossed it into the monk’s bowl with a clatter. He also gave the monk a slice of New Year cake, wishing him “Good fortune!”
The monk blessed him, saying, “May you experience prosperity and long life!”
After the monk left, Shi Xing handed Yu Jinnian the herbs. “The young master’s medicine.” He then went to the courtyard to talk with his master, returning shortly to say, “My little demon will be coming by soon.”
Yu Jinnian, meanwhile, was lounging at the counter, keeping an eye on the shop while brewing tea in a small stove. Just as the tea started boiling, Jiang Bingren came bouncing in, his face glowing with health. His skin looked smooth and radiant, like a pampered little fox. As he cheerfully approached the shop, he was suddenly blocked by a man dressed in purple.
“Excuse me, young master,” the man asked, “have you seen…”
Yu Jinnian looked up, seeing the man who had stopped Jiang Bingren. He was wrapped in a gray cloth that covered half his face, swaying unsteadily in the wind. His clothes were old and worn, but they appeared to be the type of costume that young actors in theater troupes favored, embroidered with pink butterflies—a style that seemed neither male nor female. It struck Yu Jinnian as odd, but he didn’t dwell on it.
Jiang Bingren, after being held up for a while, suddenly exclaimed with joy, “Bai Haitang?”
The figure froze, retreating several steps. He hastily covered his face with the cloth and looked ready to flee, but by then, a crowd had gathered around to watch. Bai Haitang had been somewhat famous in the past, known for his silk-like voice and delicate figure. There had even been a wealthy patron who once tried to buy him to keep as a private treasure, though Bai Haitang had mocked and humiliated the suitor in public.
That had been years ago, but Bai Haitang’s name had gained a certain notoriety, thanks to the embellished rumors of his romantic escapades. The small theater troupe he had belonged to had managed to establish itself in Xinan County largely because of him, even going so far as to open a theater of their own.
Bai Haitang had started performing at the age of ten, working tirelessly to support the troupe that had raised him. He had performed day and night, with hardly any rest, until his voice grew hoarse long before his time. Now, though not yet thirty, his voice had already lost its youthful clarity. Moreover, illness had struck him hard, leaving him unable to perform.
Yet people’s gossip didn’t fade with his health; instead, it fueled even more curiosity. They longed to peel back his skin and expose the person beneath, eager to see how much ugliness lay hidden behind the mask of beauty.
Bai Haitang, who had always taken pride in his appearance, couldn’t bear the scrutiny. Now, stripped of his stage persona, he didn’t know how to face the crowd that was ready to tear him apart. He glanced around in a panic until his eyes met those of a young man for a brief moment.
Lowering his gaze quickly, Bai Haitang tried to hide. Yu Jinnian stepped out from behind the counter, pretending to scold, “Young Master Jiang, stop blocking my business. Get inside!”
Jiang Bingren reluctantly stepped inside but continued glancing back at Bai Haitang. Seeing the fallen beauty about to be surrounded, Yu Jinnian pushed through the crowd, grabbing Bai Haitang by the wrist. He pulled the terrified man into the shop. “Since you know Young Master Jiang, come in and have some tea.”
The onlookers, wary of Jiang Bingren’s reputation, refrained from causing trouble and eventually dispersed.
Inside, Bai Haitang pulled his hand away, trembling. “You should go wash…”
“What’s wrong?” Yu Jinnian smiled, puzzled. He placed half a coin’s worth of the *Five Beauties Ginger* powder into each tea cup and poured freshly brewed tea over it. He handed one cup to Jiang Bingren and the other to Bai Haitang. “Sit down, warm up. You were looking for someone earlier… who?”
Bai Haitang, still standing, felt out of place in the noodle shop, as though his very presence sullied the clean tiles beneath his feet. His icy fingers were warmed by the fragrant ginger tea. He examined the simple white porcelain cup in his hands and nervously asked, “…Can I keep this cup?”
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his body, causing him to spill some of the tea. Yu Jinnian quickly grabbed a cloth to wipe his hands, but Bai Haitang snatched it from him, sounding desperate as he pleaded, “Could I… have this cloth too?”
Yu Jinnian couldn’t help but laugh. “Should I pry up the tile you’re standing on and give it to you as well?”
Bai Haitang glanced down at his feet, seriously considering the idea. Realizing it was impossible, he looked even more despondent.
Jiang Bingren, eager to seize the opportunity, chimed in, “I love your performances! Have you recovered from your illness yet? When will you perform again?”
Bai Haitang, dejected, replied, “Thank you, but… I won’t be performing anymore.”
Jiang Bingren looked disappointed. “Who were you looking for earlier?”
Bai Haitang hurriedly replied, “I was looking for Su Ting, a scholar. He’s not very tall, has bright eyes, and seems very honest. He’s always getting lost. He’s… he’s…” At this, Bai Haitang’s voice trailed off. Last night, he had turned Su Ting away, and this morning, Su Ting had vanished. He had promised to stay with Bai Haitang, but now there was no trace of him. The academy was empty, and the bookstore Su Ting frequented was closed.
Su Ting had never gone anywhere else, nor would he ever leave without a word. Bai Haitang’s first thought was that something terrible had happened to Su Ting. But then, another thought crept into his mind.
Perhaps… Su Ting didn’t want him anymore.
It made sense. Who would want a burden like him, someone who couldn’t offer affection, couldn’t provide comfort, and was constantly sick?
Bai Haitang’s thoughts spiraled into despair, feeling as if the sky had collapsed. He was panicked and lost, unsure of what to do, when Yu Jinnian suddenly said, “Stretch out your hand. If you don’t, I’ll touch you!”
Startled, Bai Haitang hurriedly extended a hand, whispering, “Please don’t touch me. Really, don’t.”
Yu Jinnian pulled out a *Tusu* pouch from behind him and gently placed it in Bai Haitang’s palm. “You’ll get better.”
“Oh…” Bai Haitang softly murmured in surprise. He wanted to say that he’d seen this before—he not only recognized it but already had two at home. Remembering what Su Ting had mentioned about a kind shop owner, he glanced at Yu Jinnian and quickly bowed his head in gratitude. “Thank you, thank you so much.”
Jiang Bingren, not to be outdone, exclaimed, “Why don’t I have one of these?”
Upset that Yu Jinnian had given something to someone else but not him, Jiang Bingren jumped up, eager to inspect the pouch. Yu Jinnian swiftly caught his hand mid-air, scolding lightly, “Stop that! I’ll give you one later.”
Jiang Bingren, sensing something was off with Yu Jinnian’s behavior today but unable to pinpoint it, sulked as he sat down.
Bai Haitang was still bowed low in gratitude when a voice from outside suddenly called out, “—Haitang!”
Everyone turned to see Su Ting running in, breathless and worried, holding two steamed buns. He quickly checked Bai Haitang from head to toe and, seeing that he wasn’t hurt, let out a sigh of relief. “Why did you come here? I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“You…” Yu Jinnian felt a surge of anger but then realized that this Su Ting, the one calling out for Haitang, was the same Su Ting Bai Haitang had mentioned before—the scholar whose name matched the small thief.
Su Ting, noticing Bai Haitang holding a teacup and a cloth from the noodle shop, quickly said, “Give those things back, and let’s go home.” He then turned to Yu Jinnian, apologizing, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he’d come here.”
“This was given to me,” Bai Haitang said quietly, suddenly feeling relieved that Su Ting hadn’t abandoned him. He held onto the items stubbornly and repeated softly, “The owner gave them to me.”
Su Ting, feeling embarrassed, didn’t want to take anything from the noodle shop. “We have cups at home. Why do you need to take theirs?”
Bai Haitang insisted, “It’s really mine.”
“If he likes it, let him keep it,” Yu Jinnian said, not wanting to argue over such a small matter. Since the shop owner had spoken, Su Ting had no choice but to accept the situation. With no room to argue, he quickly led Bai Haitang out of the shop.
As they left, Bai Haitang asked, “Where did you get those injuries?”
Su Ting responded, “It’s nothing. I’ll tell you when we get home.”
As they were leaving the noodle shop, Yu Jinnian suddenly cursed, “That little rascal…” He had just remembered Su Ting’s name. “Su Ting, wait a minute.”
Su Ting stopped at the doorway and told Bai Haitang to stay put while he ran back inside. Barely steadying himself, he quickly blurted out, “I’m really sorry. I didn’t know he’d run off. I forgot to tell him I was leaving, and he must’ve come out looking for me.”
Yu Jinnian wasn’t interested in the excuses. He asked seriously, “His illness—do you have it?”
“Huh?” Su Ting looked confused, then hesitated before replying, “No.”
“Those rashes on him—you’re sure you don’t have them? Show me your hands and feet,” Yu Jinnian ordered.
“My feet?” Su Ting held out his hands, which were smooth and clean, not even a mole in sight. Then, standing on one foot, he removed his shoes and socks, showing his foot to Yu Jinnian with a hint of embarrassment. “Do you need to see more? Should I take off my clothes?”
Seeing that Su Ting’s hands and feet were indeed clean, Yu Jinnian was still puzzled. “You two… aren’t you together?”
Su Ting’s face flushed as he realized what Yu Jinnian was insinuating. He stammered, “W-we are, but, um, nothing improper…”
He was trying to be proper, but in truth, he was saying that their relationship hadn’t progressed beyond affection.
Yu Jinnian, feeling relieved, realized his earlier insult was misplaced. While Su Ting might be a thief, he wasn’t entirely dishonorable. Waving him off, Yu Jinnian said, “Get your shoes back on and get out of here! Just remember—don’t let any bad ideas creep into your head. Stay a proper gentleman, and don’t let those sage books you’ve read go to waste.”
Su Ting, putting his shoes back on in a hurry, replied with a chuckle, “I’ve already fished those books out from the dog’s belly. I’ll be sure to remember!”
With that, Su Ting returned to where Bai Haitang had been anxiously waiting, and the two left together.
Jiang Bingren, still puzzled by the strange conversation, asked Yu Jinnian what it was all about, but Yu Jinnian refused to explain. Frustrated, Jiang Bingren sat down and ate two full plates of fried New Year cake, then shouted for Shi Xing to bring a jug of sweet wine to go with it.
Later, as Yu Jinnian went to the back to wash his hands, he bumped into Ji Hong. Startled, he asked, “How long have you been eavesdropping here?”
Ji Hong handed him a few fat pearls, his tone playful. “What illness brings such disaster upon you?”
Yu Jinnian rubbed the pearls between his hands, his expression darkening as he sighed. “It’s probably syphilis.”