Chapter 5 The Marketplace

Chapter 5: The Market

Chang Jinhua had a rough idea of what her son meant, so she started taking Meng Wan out more and more—either to pick wild vegetables at the foot of the mountain or to wash clothes by the stream.

When they ran into villagers, she just said he was the child of her younger sister's family, orphaned and came to stay with her. She had given two pieces of candy to Old Six's wife to get the story straight, and both she and Old Six were decent folks who never ran their mouths after coming back from town. Having accepted the candy, they even stuck up for her family when gossip started.

In short, whether others believed it or not, the story had spread, and nobody had the guts or the time to go check his household registration at the government office.

"Tomorrow around noon, Dalang's coming back from town. I'll lock up in a bit, and you'll come with me to the market to buy two catties of pork."

Chang Jinhua picked up the copper lock and called for Meng Wan to follow her out.

Meng Wan grabbed a bamboo basket, all excited. This was his first time leaving the little mountain village. The market was organized by nearby villages, held on the 7th, 17th, and 27th of every month—three gatherings a month. Today was the 27th of the eighth month.

He walked along the road with Chang Jinhua. After the Start of Autumn, the weather started cooling off. It was still early; folks not going to market were just starting to cook breakfast, with wisps of smoke rising from the village. The farther they walked from the village, the more people they saw hurrying along with baskets in hand.

Meng Wan's face was way too noticeable, and with no man accompanying them, Chang Jinhua made him wrap a cloth scarf around the lower half of his face.

"Sister-in-law, wait for me!" A voice called out from behind just as they left the village.

Chang Jinhua turned to look. Sure enough, it was Old Six's wife.

"You're hauling a lot of stuff—what're you buying?"

Old Six's wife had two baskets, one in each hand. One basket had eggs she was taking to sell; the other had two small jars, probably for sesame oil or something.

She was grinning from ear to ear. "My Dali's engagement is set. I'm going to the market to buy some things—cheaper than in town, y'know."

"That's true, you can save quite a bit," Chang Jinhua agreed, glancing over at Meng Wan, who was checking things out.

"Why's your Wan Ge'er got that cloth scarf on?" Old Six's wife followed her gaze to Meng Wan.

"The market's always full of loafers and troublemakers. He's a young unmarried guy, and Tingzhou's not around. Better safe than sorry. Say hi to your Sixth Aunt," she added, teaching Meng Wan who's who.

Chang Jinhua didn't keep secrets from Old Six's wife; she knew that buying Meng Wan was meant to make him Tingzhou's wife.

"Sixth Aunt," Meng Wan said in greeting.

"Ah, this kid's so polite. Not like Tian's eldest grandson's wife—quiet as a stone, won't say a peep to anyone."

"You mean his eldest grandson's wife?"

"Exactly. She's been married into the family for years. Though having kids is tough for that family, most still manage to have one or two. But she hasn't had any luck at all, and she doesn't like to talk when she meets people. Her mother-in-law doesn't bring her out anymore; now she only brings the younger one along." The "younger one" was the newly married younger grandson's wife, sweet-talking and chatty. The more Tian's mother-in-law liked the younger one, the more she disliked the elder.

Meng Wan listened to the two women jabber about household stuff. Even though Chang Jinhua had seen town life and knew the value of book learning, she'd spent half her life stuck in the village. Their world was full of such petty stuff—their horizons and circumstances dictated it.

Meng Wan wondered to himself: would he end up like that? Maybe even dragging two kids along.

He shivered. Good grief, he'd almost forgotten he could have kids now!

"You cold?" Chang Jinhua glanced at him even as she chatted.

"Not cold." Meng Wan shook his head. He was still young and could withstand the cold; it was just early autumn, not yet chilly.

"We'll buy some cloth at the market. You need a padded jacket made."

Chang Jinhua thought it over. Meng Wan had been wearing clothes altered from Song Tingzhou's, which would do for now, but not when it got colder. They had no extra cotton at home, so they'd need to buy some.

Old Six's wife understood. This Sister-in-law Song was quite kind to her bought daughter-in-law; they'd probably be married soon.

"When's your happy occasion?"

"Next spring." In April of the coming year, Song Tingzhou would go to Guyang County for the county exam. Win or lose, it was time to marry.

"When's Zhuzi's wedding?"

"The eighth day of the tenth month. We'll do it after the harvest, when there's free time. Wan Ge'er, come to Sixth Aunt's for some wine then!"

Chang Jinhua laughed. "He's just a kid—what wine would he drink? Let him help in the kitchen, serving dishes."

"Ah, that would be a real help. Sister-in-law, come early too and give me a hand."

"Do I even need to say it? Of course."

Listening to them chat as they walked, Meng Wan figured they'd been going for about two quarters of an hour—roughly half an hour—when they reached the outskirts of another village.

In the distance, he could see houses of varying heights, some with chimneys still smoking. Other villagers heading to the market were also approaching.

They were at the village entrance, where a large patch of wild land had been trampled flat. Crowds of people flowed between various stalls, surrounded by trees. At the entrance stood a stone tablet inscribed with: "Hongmiao Village Chronicle."

Besides the words "Hongmiao Village," there were two lines of smaller text. Meng Wan could roughly make out that a hundred years ago, a *juren* scholar had emerged from this village and built a temple, leading later generations to rename it Hongmiao Village.

Meng Wan looked around. On a nearby low hill, there seemed to be a building, though it was only as big as two rooms.

"Wan Ge'er, come quickly!"

While he was looking at the stone tablet, Chang Jinhua had already walked some distance ahead.

"Song Yi, this Hongmiao Village seems bigger than ours."

"This village was about the same as ours before, but then a *juren* scholar appeared and built a clan school, so the population grew."

Chang Jinhua paused, then realized, "How did you know it's called Hongmiao Village?"

Meng Wan pointed at the stone tablet. "It's written there."

The furrow between Chang Jinhua's brows softened. She said nostalgically, "Knowing how to read is good. When Tingzhou's father was alive, he taught me too, but I only know a few characters—two or three at most."

"I don't know many either." Meng Wan thought to himself that he was just guessing, since some characters looked like simplified ones. He feared Chang Jinhua might not be satisfied with that answer, but he didn't want to deceive her into thinking he truly could read.

To his surprise, Chang Jinhua said approvingly, "That's already good enough."

Meng Wan breathed a sigh of relief.

The market at Hongmiao Village was laid out in four short streets. Square stones were stacked underneath, and cloth was spread on top—a convenient setup that saved having to move tables or put things directly on the ground.

Stalls sold cloth, meat, assorted snacks, homegrown fruits and vegetables… gathering all the small vendors from nearby villages. Shopkeepers from town would also send their assistants to sell leftover goods.

Under Shuiquan Town, there were nearly forty villages, large and small. The Song family's Sanquan Village and this Hongmiao Village were both on the east side of town, and over a dozen nearby villages came to Hongmiao for the market. The crowd was thick and bustling, with more still on the way from farther off.

Chang Jinhua had a clear goal: buy meat first, or else the fatty cuts would be gone. Old Six's wife went to sell her eggs first, and they agreed to meet at the cloth stall later.

There were three meat stalls, all set up close together so buyers could head straight there. Chang Jinhua picked and chose among the pork belly.

Meng Wan looked around. The meat stalls and another street dedicated to food had the most people. Clearly, no matter the era, the saying "food is the first necessity of the people" held true—you could go without many things, but not food.

Chang Jinhua haggled with the meat stall owner for a while. The pork belly, originally sixteen wen per catty, was reduced by one wen, and she bought two catties for thirty wen total. Lean meat was cheaper at twelve wen per catty, and ribs at nine wen—the least popular, since bones were heavy and took too much firewood to stew.

After buying the meat, Meng Wan followed Chang Jinhua to the cloth stalls on another street. There were more cloth stalls than meat stalls—four of them—and some women would weave their own cloth, setting out small baskets on the ground. This kind was cheaper than the stall vendors', but the drawback was that it had no color, only plain fabric. Usually, only families dealing with funerals or those too poor to have clothes would buy this kind.

The cloth booth was spread out, unlike the meat stall, which was packed. Chang Jinhua didn’t look at the plain cloth on the ground but browsed through the coarse and cotton cloth.

“How much is this indigo-blue bolt?” Chang Jinhua walked around a few booths, mostly finding coarse cloth, with only a few pieces of fine cotton cloth in bright red.

Coarse cloth was also woven from cotton and silk, but it was thicker and more durable, and cheaper than fine cotton cloth, so farming families mostly bought coarse cloth for making clothes.

The vendor grinned ingratiatingly, “This bolt’s woven tighter than the others, so it costs ten more wen, a hundred and sixty wen.”

Chang Jinhua almost laughed in disbelief, “Other booths sell coarse cloth for 150 wen, but you’re special with an extra ten wen? I was gonna buy some cotton too, but forget it.”

Sure, cloth is 150 wen a bolt, but one bolt could make two sets of clothes. Cotton was 80 wen a catty, and a winter coat needed at least three catties of cotton to get through winter.

Meng Wan tugged her sleeve, “Aunt Song, I see that same cloth at that booth over there; let’s go check it out.”

“No, no, no, sister, don’t rush!”

“Just feel this fabric, it’s really tight... Alright, alright, 150 wen, take it.” The vendor called out quickly to Chang Jinhua and Meng Wan, afraid they’d go to another booth.

Chang Jinhua stopped, “I still need to buy some cotton; cut me a deal.”

To save a couple of wen, they went back and forth haggling. In the end, Chang Jinhua bought the indigo-blue bolt for 150 wen, which was definitely tighter than other booths’ cloth. She also bought five catties of cotton at 80 wen a catty, spending 550 wen total at the booth, roughly half a tael of silver.

That vendor was a sharp one, insisting his stuff was top-notch and wouldn’t budge on price, but he tossed in a few colorful scraps of cloth.

“Hasn’t Old Six’s wife sold her eggs yet?” Chang Jinhua muttered. She’d been at it a while buying meat and cloth, so Old Six’s wife should’ve been here by now.

“Why don’t we go see her, Aunt Song?” Meng Wan suggested, since he wasn’t done browsing yet.

Chang Jinhua made him hold her arm, warning him that with so many people around, he might get snatched by a kidnapper.

They headed for the stall selling eggs and poultry. Before they even reached it, they heard arguing.

“Is that Sixth Aunt’s voice? Is she arguing with someone?” Meng Wan asked in surprise.

Chang Jinhua frowned, “Let’s look from a distance to see if it’s her.”

She didn’t want to get involved, but Song Laoliu was from the same village and clan as her family. As his sister-in-law, she couldn’t just leave him.

Meng Wan was taller, so he led the way this time, able to see farther.

He squeezed through the crowd of onlookers and managed to get to the front. Taking a look, he saw that the one arguing fiercely in front of the booth was indeed Song Sixth Aunt.

The booth was a tofu stand run by a middle-aged couple in their forties or fifties—or maybe younger, since the villagers worked hard day and night with no time or money for self-care, making some look older than they were. When he first met Chang Jinhua, he thought she was at least forty-five or forty-six, only recently learning she was just thirty-nine.

Chang Jinhua couldn’t move as nimbly as Meng Wan and was stuck outside the crowd, anxious. “Wan Geer, is it your Sixth Aunt? Don’t go further; be careful not to get hurt.”

Meng Wan shouted back, “It’s Sixth Aunt. They’re not fighting, just yelling.”

The bystanders laughed at that—indeed, it was just yelling. The tofu-selling couple was afraid Song Sixth Aunt would overturn their booth, while she, alone, feared getting hurt if it came to blows. They argued endlessly with no resolution, stuck in a stalemate.

Meng Wan didn’t dare rush in. He first listened to the gist, then asked some uncles and aunties nearby what was going on.

It turned out Song Sixth Aunt had come to buy tofu. The booth was busy with a steady stream of customers. Some pickpocket had sneaked up, stolen a handful of copper coins from the money box, and knocked over a piece of tofu, which Song Sixth Aunt, stepping forward, had crushed underfoot.

The tofu couple hadn’t seen the thief, but having lost money and a piece of tofu, they latched onto Song Sixth Aunt, insisting she stole the money. She naturally denied it, sparking the argument.

“My money box is missing at least half of its contents; give the money back now!”

“At your age, being a mother and grandmother, and doing something like this—shameless!”

The couple were quick-tongued, hurling insults one after another, not giving Song Sixth Aunt a chance to retort.

Only her loud voice let her squeeze out a few words: “You’re lying!” “I didn’t!” “It wasn’t me!”

The tofu woman, seeing that a plate of tofu was untouched and the top one only half-sold, finally lost patience. She rushed at Song Sixth Aunt, grabbing at her, her hand reaching into the cloth pouch at her chest.

“You woman, give back our hard-earned money!”

Song Sixth Aunt struggled fiercely, and the woman pulled and cursed, “You thieving woman, the money in your pouch is clearly stolen from our box! Everyone, judge for yourselves! We work hard for our money, and this black-hearted thief grabs a handful and even ruins our tofu!”

The surrounding villagers, simple and honest, hesitated after hearing her words, though they’d initially wanted to mediate.

“She doesn’t seem the type; how could she do this?”

“That couple works hard from early morning; it’s not easy. Stealing money is quick.”

“If my wife dared to shame me like this outside, I’d hang her up and beat her.”

“Your wife just yells at you, and you’d hide your head in your pants; hang her up and beat her?”

Some blamed, but more laughed.

Seeing she couldn’t get the upper hand, the tofu man also lunged at her.

The couple ganging up on one person—wasn’t that going too far?

“Stop fighting! Don’t you want to get your money back?”