Chapter 8: The Game of the Poor

Chapter 8: A Poor Man's Game

The tubercular fellow untied forty copper coins from the string in Tie Xinyuan's hand and smiled, "Having saved for three months, I entrusted someone to bring a string of cash back to my wife and children in the countryside, leaving me with just ten cash coins in hand. Since I'm the one who wants tea, it's only right that I make up the fifty cash coins needed to buy it."

The gentleman who wanted wine gave a bitter smile, "Fifty cash coins are indeed a bit short for buying wine, but that's still not enough to stump your younger brother."

The last fellow shoved the remaining fifty cash coins into his sleeve and laughed heartily, "I've never been this wealthy before. Fifty cash coins? Heh heh, the meat we can buy with this will be more than enough for the twelve of us."

Tie Xinyuan laughed aloud, "Brother Beaver, my family runs a soup and noodle shop and sells meat. I know very well how much meat fifty cash coins can buy. You must not buy spoiled meat, otherwise everyone here won't let you off."

Brother Beaver laughed, "Rest assured, I guarantee it will be the freshest meat. We'll meet at that small tea stall outside the city, right?"

Seeing Tie Xinyuan nod with a smile, he cupped his fists, strode away loftily from the group, and vanished in an instant.

The tubercular fellow smiled, "He ran off so fast. Could it be he fled with the money?"

Everyone burst into uproarious laughter. The tubercular fellow pointed at Tie Xinyuan and said, "You've long held the reputation of a prodigy and are a prominent figure in the Imperial Academy. Since you surpass the rest of us, then..."

Tie Xinyuan smiled, "The musicians and courtesans are naturally for me to find. Brother Yansou must compose a few more *ci* poems by then to present as a parting gift."

Brother Yansou smiled, "What is so unusual about exchanging *ci* poems for musical entertainers? I mean, since you are a prodigy, even if we don't compose *ci* poems, we should at least enjoy the luxury of having beauties in our arms."

At this, his expression changed entirely into one of disgust. He jingled the copper coins in his hand, making a rattling sound, and said viciously, "Even if the courtesans you find are as plain as Wuyan or Mumu, I won't say a word. The only thing not allowed is someone from Wa."

Tie Xinyuan smiled and nodded in agreement, cupped his fists to the remaining people, and said, "This younger brother will go find suitable courtesans right now. You brothers can go wait at the tea shack outside the city."

After bidding farewell to the scholars, Tie Xinyuan went straight to Zaozhong Alley, where his mother was still staying.

He had promised his mother last night to accompany her to the Golden Jade Tower; the silver empty coffin crafted for his deceased father should be finished by now.

He didn't understand why his mother insisted on making such a thing. The expense wasn't the main issue; the problem was that something buried underground would eventually be dug up by tomb raiders.

Once a loved one passes away, the living family member's heart is the best tomb. He couldn't understand why his mother insisted on making it so tangible.

"This coffin weighs nine catties, nine taels, and nine qian. If you include the jade ornaments on top, the total weight should be around twelve catties and two liang, with a deviation of no more than five qian."

Wang Rouhua sat in the carriage, smiling as she described the appearance of the coffin to her son.

"What do you plan to put inside?"

"A lock of my hair, and a lock of your hair. That way, your father will know we are thinking of him over there, and he won't be too lonely."

"This child feels that for a hero like my father, King Yama won't keep him in the netherworld for long. If there is still one chance for reincarnation in this world, it should go to a good man like my father."

"Nonsense. Your father will wait for me."

"Then my father is in trouble; he'll have to wait another hundred and ten years. I asked the Buddha atXiangguo Temple, and the Buddha said you have at least another hundred and eighty years of mortal life left."

Wang Rouhua reached out and slapped Tie Xinyuan on the head, saying, "Don't talk nonsense using the Buddha's name; you'll incur divine retribution. Your mother doesn't plan to live that long. I'll die right after I watch you grow up, become an adult, and get married—yes, I'll die then!"

Tie Xinyuan smiled, "Can you bear to leave this child? Don't you even want to see what your grandson looks like?"

Wang Rouhua hesitated slightly, but the temptation of a grandson was too great. Gritting her teeth, she said, "Then I'll wait until I've seen my grandson."

Tie Xinyuan smiled again, "Are you satisfied with just one grandson? This child plans to have a house full of children and grandchildren. Haven't you always envied General Yang's matriarch with children and grandchildren surrounding her knees? Later on, you'll be holding one in your arms, carrying one on your back, and another will be crawling up your knees. All of them will open their little mouths and call you grandmother—will you still bear to leave them? My father probably reincarnated long ago and is currently enjoying blessings in some wealthy household. If you go down there one day and can't find my father, you'll suffer a huge loss."

Wang Rouhua scratched her head and said, "Your father said he would wait for me."

"Hard to say! My father is naturally a man of his word, but just look at the government in Tokyo. You can tell what the petty officials in the netherworld are like. My father was just a blacksmith; if the officials tell him to go reincarnate, I'm afraid he won't be able to refuse!"

Wang Rouhua gritted her teeth and said, "Then we'll go buy some paper money—buy a lot of it—so your father can use the money to bribe those netherworld runners."

Tie Xinyuan smiled. For his mother to say this meant she had surrendered. This was a Wang Rouhua-style surrender, which was rarely seen.

The Golden Jade Tower and the joss paper shop were both in Zaozhong Alley, and they were familiar faces. Whether it was the silver coffin repeatedly requested by his mother or the massive amount of paper money needed, everything had been handled impeccably.

The silver coffin was somewhat taboo and could not be displayed openly in front of people, so they would have to wait until the first day of the tenth month, when winter clothes were sent, to pass it along to the deceased father.

He had heard that it required a high-monk chanting sutras to send this precious coffin off to another world...

By then, it would probably be purely virtual, a spiritual farewell. If the silver coffin suddenly vanished with a *swoosh*, Tie Xinyuan would immediately dedicate his life's energy to studying the phenomenon. If successful, it would rewrite human history.

Xiaohua stood stubbornly under the eaves holding a pipa, refusing to agree to go sing at the grass shack by the city gate, no matter how much Tie Xinyuan talked until his lips grew dry.

That a young woman who had once been quite skilled at boiling wontons had transformed, five years later, into a courtesan who carried a pipa everywhere to sing for a living was something Tie Xinyuan had never anticipated.

The first time he saw Xiaohua in a restaurant carrying a pipa and asking customers if they wanted to hear a tune, Tie Xinyuan was so shocked he was virtually speechless.

Yet Xiaohua cared nothing for the troupe leader's scoldings; she simply clutched her pipa and fled. After chasing her for half a mile, Tie Xinyuan finally caught up to the exhausted girl.

No matter how he asked, he couldn't get a straight answer out of her. She only insisted that she loved playing the pipa and had no desire to go back to boiling wontons.

That was absurd. Loving the pipa yet playing tunes that sounded like beating raw cotton—Xiaohua was the worst-skilled courtesan Tie Xinyuan had ever seen.

From then on, whenever he had free time, he would invite Qiaoge to listen to Xiaohua play the pipa. Even when Qiaoge's face twisted into the shape of a steamed bun, he wasn't allowed to utter a single word of complaint; instead, he had to put on an expression of utter intoxication, shout praises loudly, and hand over generous amounts of silver. If any other customer dared utter a half-word of criticism, Qiaoge—who had risen to become one of the premier ruffians of Tokyo—would immediately respond with a flurry of heavy punches.

Today, taking advantage of this opportunity, he wanted to bring Xiaohua closer to Qiao's estate. If possible, he'd get her settled inside the estate; wandering outside all day hugging a broken pipa, underfed and poorly clothed, made him angry just to look at her.

"You know my temperament; when I'm in a bad mood, I'm capable of anything. Today I've had the worst luck imaginable, staring blankly outside the imperial palace all morning, and worst of all, being mocked by others without even being able to talk back. My mother is single-mindedly thinking of joining my father, and I've already talked my mouth dry trying to coax her. I'm in no mood to consider your thoughts right now. I'll ask you just one question: are you coming with me or not?"

Tie Xinyuan waved his fan fiercely to cool himself down. He detested such reluctant people most of all; whatever they were going to do, they should give a straightforward answer. Even if it meant murder, they should just draw a knife and charge straight in.

To stand there in absolute silence, looking pitifully as if he owed her eight hundred strings of cash—anyone who saw such a sullen expression would want to kick her twice just to vent their frustration.

Seeing that Xiaohua still remained silent, Tie Xinyuan turned and walked away. After all, he didn't owe her anything.

Fortunately, Xiaohua quietly followed behind him, and Tie Xinyuan finally let out a sigh of relief. Turning and walking away just now had been his last resort.

"You were clearly someone who boiled and sold wontons, yet you went out of your way to learn the pipa. Playing a pipa with hands used to wielding a ladle—who came up with this rotten idea for you?"

"My uncle."

Not expecting a reply, Tie Xinyuan suddenly turned his head, glanced at Xiaohua, and asked, "Your uncle told you to go, so you went? Didn't your father dote on you?"

"My father is dead..."

Tie Xinyuan didn't ask the rest, nor did he need to. In Tokyo, tragedies like Xiaohua's could be found by the hundreds, if not thousands.

This was a city that constantly created miracles, and at the same time, a city that endlessly produced tragedies—as rigid as the Yellow River outside the city, tyrannical yet stretching far back into history.

When they arrived at the tea shack, it was already quite lively.

The tubercular fellow sat cross-legged on the ground with a small red-clay stove placed before him. The charcoal inside was burning brightly, and the water in the silver kettle was bubbling vigorously, constantly lifting the lid off its rim.

He was pouring tea with a calm and serene demeanor, and the yellowish, waxen tone of his face seemed to have vanished at that moment.

A scholar walked out of the wheat field barefoot, naturally shaking off the mud from his feet, washed them in the irrigation ditch, and placed a large bundle of freshly washed shepherd's purse on the table with a smile, "I was just looking at the wheat field and didn't expect to find such a large patch of tender shepherd's purse here. I just picked some casually; we'll have one more green dish shortly."

Tie Xinyuan placed the shepherd's purse into a basin, measured it with a glance, and sighed with regret, "Good stuff, but the quantity is too small. If you mix it with plenty of vinegar and garlic, then pour hot oil over it—ah, that flavor, tch tch—it wouldn't even be enough for me alone."

The scholar who picked the shepherd's purse smiled, "Your family background is well-off, yet you eat such rustic things?"

Tie Xinyuan chuckled, "Rustic? In a moment when you watch me eat, you'll know what true rusticity is. Xiaohua! Xiaohua? What are you doing? Drop that broken pipa of yours and get these greens prepared; that's what you should be doing."

Xiaohua looked at Tie Xinyuan and then at the pipa in her arms. Ultimately, she put down the instrument, which was slightly shorter than she was, took the wooden basin, and went off to find Zhuzhu for seasonings to dress the vegetables.