Chapter Twenty-Five: The First Bucket of Gold

Tie Xinyuan decided that he would never again try to probe into his mother’s past. Every time he asked, his mother’s heart ached anew; what kind of son would bring her such sorrow?

He had once believed that with his intelligence and composure, he could win the favor of someone like Xia Song. Now, it was clear that such a notion was nothing but wishful thinking. Were it not for his mother being the granddaughter of Wang Dan, he probably wouldn’t have been allowed anywhere near Xia Song, let alone hope to become his disciple.

The chances of someone recognizing hidden talent are simply too rare; so rare that when it happens once, it is remembered for generations. Truth be told, Tie Xinyuan looked down on his current self. The incident with Niu Er had taught him an important lesson: in a spring when all flowers bloom, even foxtail weeds have the right to blossom. How I bloom, whether I resemble a foxtail or not, is of no concern to the peonies.

Just thinking about Xia Song’s arrangements made him angry. Had Xia Song still been in his tattered clothes, perhaps he wouldn’t have refused to become his student. But to see the man, dressed in court robes, seated on a brocade couch with everything meticulously arranged, made Tie Xinyuan feel sick to his stomach.

All clever people, yet they had to lay down rules before accepting a disciple? And these rules weren’t even Xia Song’s own, but were obviously meant to enforce the traditional codes of conduct. Under such constraints, what freedom would he have left?

He had spent his previous life as a slave to money. Was he now to trade away this life as well for wealth and status?

If his mother could hold onto her integrity, why couldn’t he?

Wang Rouhua saw her son scrubbing the table with all his might. But no matter how much he wiped, it was still the same table—already spotless, yet he continued to scrub as if possessed. This child had always been thoughtful; now, who knew what weighed on his mind.

“Could I have a bit more bone? Xiao Liu hasn’t eaten all day.”

A timid voice dragged Tie Xinyuan from his anger. He looked up to see the same little beggar who had previously asked him for a piece of hemp cloth to cover Niu Er’s face. The boy looked miserable today, his face bruised and swollen—Tie Xinyuan needed no explanation; it was clearly the work of other beggars.

The beggars in the capital had a strong sense of territory. Those from the East Street would never beg on West Street. If they crossed the boundary, at best they’d get a beating; at worst, they might end up searching the sewers for corpses.

There were orphanages in the capital, but it was better not to enter them if one could avoid it—especially for attractive children. Pretty girls would be sent to brothels and raised by procuresses; handsome boys might end up in pleasure halls or be trained as personal servants for the wealthy. The ugly or disabled would be claimed by the Beggars’ Guild, for these children elicited the most sympathy. And to enhance that sympathy, the guild didn’t mind making them even more pitiable.

The unluckiest were the ordinary-looking ones, caught between two worlds, left to fend for themselves.

Such was the reality of orphanages. As for the old-age homes celebrated for centuries in the annals of the Song—the Homes for the Elderly, the Fields of Blessing—which of them, if you peeked inside, was not riddled with darkness and stained with blood and tears?

Every day, one could see groups of elderly men and women sweeping the streets. These jobs weren’t so bad; at least they provided a chance to beg a bowl of gruel from a nearby shop. Tie Xinyuan had seen old folks collecting chamber pots, eating half a biscuit given to them with relish.

He’d waited two days for these little beggars to return.

He scooped a piece of meat from the pot, wrapped it in a lotus leaf, and grabbed four or five dried biscuits, bundling them in hemp cloth before handing them to the little beggar. “From now on, stay in the abandoned garden to the east.”

The boy hesitated. “They won’t let us in lately. I heard an important person is meditating there.”

“That person has left. I’ll ask the guards at West Watergate to help you—no other beggars will bother you. Stay there, and I’ll come check on you in a few days.”

Having just received a large bundle of food, the little beggar naturally accepted Tie Xinyuan’s authority, nodded repeatedly, then turned and dashed away.

“Tsk, tsk—my silly son’s heart is all kindness today? Not a bad thing, not necessarily a good thing either. You want our noodle shop to go out of business?”

Wang Rouhua had watched with a smile as her son gave food to the beggar. The boy had been in a foul mood earlier; if a bit of charity could lift his spirits, the food was well given. But this could be done only once—if repeated, the entire city’s beggars would soon descend on them.

Tie Xinyuan grinned. “Mother, there’s no such thing as a useless person in this world—it just depends on how you discover their worth. Once you do, the money will flow back to us like water.”

Wang Rouhua laughed so hard she shook, tugging playfully at her son’s ponytail. “Well, you’re the only man in the house. I’ll gladly earn a little less to see how you make money off those beggar children.”

As mother and son spoke, a group of students in round-collared blue robes strolled past on Maxing Street. Someone pointed at the sign for Seventh Brother’s Noodle Shop, and a scholar waving a folding fan declared in a loud voice, “Swine’s flesh is pig’s flesh, is filth, is unclean. This beast roots in mud by day and eyes chamber pots by night—how can it be fit for the mouth? Master Geyuan only tasted it for the sake of the common people’s livelihood, lowering himself to do so. That is a realm of character. We should learn from the master’s magnanimity. As for pork, let us simply pay money and be done with it.”

He beckoned Tie Xinyuan over.

Tie Xinyuan trotted over with a grin. He wanted to see what these men were up to.

The leading scholar, seeing Tie Xinyuan dressed neatly and looking handsome, his ponytail bouncing behind him, put down the hand covering his nose. He pointed at Tie Xinyuan and addressed the others, “Look, this is a merchant’s child. Can you see anything in him?”

Tie Xinyuan glanced down at his clothes—clean, his hands clean, even his shoes spotless.

He wasn’t the only one puzzled; the other students looked confused as well. One, dressed in white, cupped his hands and said, “Brother Fanning, the child is lively and adorable—nothing untoward about him, surely?”

Brother Fanning cheerfully waved his fan. “Brother Zelin, that’s where you’re wrong. The cunning of merchants lies precisely here. This little child, seemingly innocent, is actually full of calculation.”

Brother Zelin circled Tie Xinyuan, who flashed a toothy, silly smile to seem honest.

Gaining nothing, Brother Zelin shook his head, unable to guess what Li Fanning meant.

When everyone turned curious eyes on him, Li Fanning tucked his fan into his collar, took Tie Xinyuan’s clean little hand for all to see, and said with a smile, “See it now? Doesn’t anyone think this child is too clean?”

Brother Zelin shook his head. “A clean child simply means his parents are diligent and love him—what else could it mean?”

Li Fanning shook his head sagely. “Brother Zelin, you can’t judge a merchant’s heart by common standards. When we were young, clean clothes showed our parents’ love. But with merchants, it’s not the same. This Seventh Brother’s Noodle Shop is famous in the capital and has earned Master Geyuan’s praise—surely it relies on cleanliness. Think about it: pork is dirty meat, and though it looks clean after butchering, its nature remains. So this shop keeps its premises spotless, serves clean tea, fresh side dishes, fragrant rice wine, a clean child, and tidy maids. Master Geyuan eats pork, drinks wine, enjoys fresh vegetables, and everywhere his gaze falls, all is immaculate. Their noodles are good too, just to his taste. In such an environment, by the time Master Geyuan is half-drunk, how could he remember pork’s filthy origins? That’s merchants’ cunning—even Master Geyuan was fooled. How hateful are merchants!”

The students all nodded in sudden enlightenment, cupping their hands in admiration.

Tie Xinyuan looked at the smug Li Fanning, then at the others, and suddenly burst into loud wails, rubbing his eyes. “Mother said this is our shop’s secret. If others find out, I’ll have no food and no money to pay the teacher!”

Li Fanning gave him a friendly slap on the head. “Why cry? Would I go around spreading your family’s little tricks? Scholars eat mutton, the common people eat pork—so long as you don’t cheat us, who cares?”

Tie Xinyuan, still sobbing, pointed at the gathering crowd. “They all heard—now I’ll have no food and can’t go to school.”

Li Fanning smiled dryly, pulled a pouch from his sleeve, and hung it around Tie Xinyuan’s neck. “I wouldn’t let your family go hungry—here, half a tael of silver.”

The other students, feeling that Li Fanning’s public exposure of the shop’s business secrets was somewhat ungentlemanly, also took out money and gave it to Tie Xinyuan. As the crowd grew larger, they waved their sleeves and departed.

Wang Rouhua, chin in her hands on the counter, watched her son’s mischief. To her surprise, he came back carrying four or five bulging pouches, each heavy with coins.

“From now on, the money for those beggar children’s food will come from these.” Tie Xinyuan handed the pouches to his mother, then stared pensively at the departing scholars.

After counting the money, Wang Rouhua was well pleased. She patted her dazed son. “What are you thinking about?”

Tie Xinyuan replied solemnly, “How could I be so stupid? These fools’ money is the easiest to earn!”