Chapter Fifteen: Observing the World with a Cold Eye
A tiger-head cap, tiger-head shoes, two lotus-shaped sachets the size of fists tied around his neck, his limbs adorned with colorful threads, and a dab of leftover golden powder from his mother still on his forehead—after being forced by his mother to swallow a bellyful of worm medicine, he was carried onto a six-tenths-new Emerald Oil carriage.
The fox had also been given half a bowl of worm medicine. Now, it was lying on the ground, convulsing. It was a miracle the fox survived after being dosed with realgar decoction. Whether the fox lived or died, Tie Xinyuan did not know; he himself had to stop three or four times along the way with diarrhea before finally going limp and lying motionless in his mother’s arms.
Inside the Emerald Oil carriage were not only Wang Rouhua and her son but also two other mother-child pairs. Most notably, Tie Xinyuan saw Lady Copper and her son Copper. Clearly, Copper had been dosed with an unknown amount of realgar water; that sturdy fellow, usually as strong as a calf, now lay weakly across his mother’s lap, listlessly gazing at Tie Xinyuan like a mangy dog.
Another woman, whom Tie Xinyuan did not recognize, held a little girl in colorful clothes. The girl was not in the least lovable—most likely suffering from a stomachache after too much realgar water, she was crying as if her life depended on it.
The three women paid little attention to their children, their conversation growing ever livelier over the girl’s cries.
Tie Xinyuan slipped from his mother’s arms, fished a dried red date from the pouch on his belly, and handed it to Copper. Copper grunted and mumbled something Tie Xinyuan couldn’t understand, clutching the date in his hand.
The little girl, seeing Tie Xinyuan share the date with Copper and not with her, wailed even louder. Frowning, Tie Xinyuan pulled out another date to pacify her, but Copper snatched it away in the blink of an eye, and the girl’s sobs turned shrill and piercing.
Only after her mother gave her two hard slaps did the noise subside. Tie Xinyuan winced at the sight, for his own mother had never treated him so harshly.
Thick cushions lined the carriage. By the fifth month, the capital of the Song Dynasty was already stiflingly hot. Tie Xinyuan and Copper sat on the cushions, lifting the rear curtain to watch the long line of carriages stretching like a dragon.
This dragon of carriages extended from the city out into the countryside. As the sun set, lanterns were hung for illumination, making the procession shine brilliantly.
The sky above the Song Dynasty was pitch-black, the stars washed clean and dazzling, the Milky Way arching overhead and converging with the luminous dragon of carriages on the distant horizon.
At that moment, it was hard to tell whether the dragon of carriages on earth was ascending into the Milky Way, or if the Milky Way itself had descended to earth.
From the carriage opposite, a pig-faced child poked her head out, her hair tied in a playful topknot. Tie Xinyuan had never seen such a plump little girl—though she looked not yet five, her cheeks were so fat they swallowed her mouth.
Tie Xinyuan had seen even more exaggerated sights and remained calm, but Copper shrieked and ducked back into their carriage.
The two carriages ran side by side, barely a foot apart. The chubby girl, delighted by Tie Xinyuan’s tiger-head cap, said nothing but offered him a large vegetable melon.
This was a real treat, likely the first of the season, exuding a fragrant aroma—a sign that the girl’s family was well-off.
Tie Xinyuan’s stomach was long since emptied by his illness; he accepted the melon without hesitation and gave the little girl a date in return.
The melon cracked open on the carriage wall, splitting into two halves. He gave one to his mother and devoured the other himself.
Copper, wanting some as well, crawled out and grinned ingratiatingly at the girl, but was rewarded only with a mighty roll of the eyes. So young, and already she could tell good from bad—this girl must have had her share of hardships.
The carriages traveled together for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, then the one carrying the little girl pulled ahead. The road for scholars was always wider than that for common folk.
“What’s that little girl’s name? What did she say to you? Why did she give you melon?” Copper peppered him with questions.
Tie Xinyuan laughed, handing over half of the melon. “She said her name is Sugar, and told me to visit her house whenever I can—she says there’s endless good food there.”
“Alright, but if you go, you have to take me with you.”
As they spoke, the carriage reached Golden Bright Pond. Seeing it, Tie Xinyuan felt a little disappointed. At best, it was a puddle—nothing like the grand spectacle described in the classics, and certainly no rainbow spanning the waves.
Tie Xinyuan was surprised to find that he, too, had a shed here. Two stout women were bustling inside. When they saw Wang Rouhua carrying Tie Xinyuan over, they hurried to greet her. “Madam Tie, everything’s ready. Shall we open for business now or wait till tomorrow?”
Wang Rouhua glanced at the surging crowds by the pond and declared with gusto, “Of course we open now! Seventh Brother’s Noodle House is famous throughout the capital—tonight, we’ll make our name shine by Golden Bright Pond!”
One of the women sighed, “Our shop is so small, not like the big restaurants like Fan Tower or Spring Pavilion. They’ve got the best spots, and tonight, scholars may even write poems for their establishments. We can’t attract scholars; most of them don’t eat pork anyway.”
She stamped her foot in annoyance. “Our pork is better than mutton, but those people have eyes and see not.”
Wang Rouhua laughed. “Let’s start cooking. I don’t believe the aroma of our meat won’t bring in customers.”
The woman shot a disdainful look at the nearby noodle stalls named Fifth Brother or Sixth Uncle. “Madam Tie, we won’t lack for customers—though we might benefit others.”
Wang Rouhua smiled. “There’ll be hundreds of thousands of people tonight—our little shop can’t handle them all. Let others share in the business. As long as we don’t let down our loyal regulars, that’s enough.”
Once again, Tie Xinyuan found himself tied into the washbasin by his mother. He looked around the little thatched shed, which was no more than ten paces across. Thick wooden stakes were driven into the earth; walls and roof were woven from wheat straw, and rough wooden tables lent the place a rustic charm.
His mother hadn’t come to watch the opera stars perform by the pond—she was here to seize the opportunity of the Fifth Month Festival and spread the name of Seventh Brother’s Noodle House among the scholars.
After half a year of hard work, she had discovered that selling meat was far more profitable than selling noodles, and easier too. All she had to do was have the butcher process the pork, then bring it home to cook—not nearly as labor-intensive as making noodles.
The two women worked diligently. Soon, flames leapt beneath the giant stove, the cooled braised meat pot returned to steaming, and rich aromas of spice drifted far into the night air.
On Golden Bright Pond, lanterns blazed and waves of applause erupted from time to time, but these had nothing to do with the people in the little shop.
The women were busy rolling out noodles. Already, seven or eight bamboo trays were piled high with cut noodles, and still more were being added.
His mother, splendidly dressed, hooked up her sleeves with a silver clasp and busied herself mixing soup. Only Tie Xinyuan lay in the washbasin, gazing up at the stars in a daze.
Whenever his mother checked on him, Tie Xinyuan would shut his eyes and feign sleep. But soon he could not pretend any longer—Lady Copper brought Copper over and stuffed him into Tie Xinyuan’s washbasin, ignoring the teasing of the other women before hurrying off again.
“Looks like the fish-dragon dance is starting by the pond. Lady Copper probably wants to hold some handsome young man’s hand tonight.”
“Copper’s hands aren’t as nice to touch as those of a scholar…”
Copper didn’t want to hear others speak ill of his mother, but his formidable digestive system always overruled his mind.
He wanted to say something, but the aroma of meat lured his thoughts away. Swallowing his saliva, he asked, “Can I eat some meat?”
No sooner had he spoken than he added gloomily, “No, I can’t. The meat is for sale.”
Copper’s understanding words made Tie Xinyuan’s heart ache. He clambered out of the washbasin and fetched a large pork leg bone from a brass basin on the ground. The two women had picked it mostly clean, but there was still some meat left.
Under Copper’s hopeful gaze, Tie Xinyuan handed the bone to him. Like a hungry wolf, Copper gnawed at it hungrily.
After a while, seeing Tie Xinyuan watching, Copper felt a little embarrassed and reluctantly offered him the slobbery bone. Tie Xinyuan shook his head, and Copper continued gnawing.
A dozen or so dripping-wet men strode into the Tie family’s shop, laughing loudly. The leader was bare-chested, his chest thick with black hair. As soon as he entered, he bellowed, “Madam Tie, cook up the noodles! Don’t stop—today, the men from West Water Gate need a proper reward!”
With that, he slapped a small, shiny silver ingot on the table.
“My, did you win this from the gambling house?”
Wang Rouhua took the ingot, admiring it in the lantern light, unable to put it down.
Chen Shi, who had been silent since entering, smiled. “The captain led the brothers all day for this reward. This one is yours.”
Wang Rouhua’s wrist flicked and the ingot slipped into her sleeve. She took a large chunk of braised meat from a tray, chopped it into big pieces, filled a plate and placed it on the table. After bringing over garlic paste, sauce, and vinegar, she smiled, “After a day’s hard work, have a bite to start. I’m not stingy, but it’s not good to eat too much meat on an empty stomach. There’ll be plenty once you’ve had your fill of noodles.”
Sitting grandly, the captain laughed. “A woman’s opinion! A real man eats big pieces of meat and drinks bowls of wine. Noodles are just to fill the belly. Enough talk—bring out the wine and meat!”
Wang Rouhua smiled without arguing, her hands moving swiftly. Soon, a mountain of meat piled high on a great wooden tray.
Forged by countless trials, thunder, and fire, ten years for a single, cold gleam of the sword. Enduring in silence, biding one’s time—only to soar into the sky today! (Recommending the new novel “A Sword Soars to Immortality” by Wandering Toad—an astonishing read!)