Chapter 74 Storytelling

Chapter 74: Listening to Storytelling

Ze Ning and Zhao Yuan were heading in the same direction, so the Zhu family's servant helped the two drunken men into the carriage.

Song Tingzhou's steps were still steady. He watched his friends leave, then stood at the entrance of Ruifeng Tower and fanned himself a couple of times with his folding fan.

On the fan was not the typical landscape or auspicious patterns, but an ordinary small courtyard. There were trees and a river at the gate, and inside the courtyard, a man and a boy were pasting Spring Festival couplets. Above it was inscribed in running script: "Unforgettable homeland, unchanging original heart."

The breeze from the fan was quite cool. Song Tingzhou looked up at the setting sun in the west—today he would not have time to go buy tea outside the city.

Strolling along the street to let the smell of alcohol dissipate, he walked up to a three-story silver shop. He lifted his sleeve to sniff—the alcohol smell was mostly gone—then stepped inside.

Inside the silver shop, there were only a few women browsing jewelry. A scholar like Song Tingzhou inevitably drew sidelong glances, though it wasn't unheard of.

The shopkeeper approached him, "Scholar Lang, are you buying for your beloved? Our shop has hairpins, dangling hair ornaments, waist ornaments, jewelry, everything you need..."

When Song Tingzhou came out of the silver shop, the prize money from his monthly test was completely spent, and he was holding a wooden box in his hand.

Meng Wan and Chang Jinhua returned from watching an opera, bringing roast chicken with them. Seeing Song Tingzhou at the courtyard gate, he trotted over happily, "When did you get back? Mother and I bought roast chicken from the theater district."

Song Tingzhou took the roast chicken from his hand, "I just came in. What opera did you watch today?"

Meng Wan eagerly told him, "We watched 'The Kite's Mistake.' I have to say, it was much more interesting than 'Zhang Xie, the Top Scholar.' It's about a scholar who wrote a poem on a kite. When the string broke, it was picked up by the talented and beautiful second young lady, who then wrote another poem on it..."

Chatting and laughing, they walked into the courtyard together. Chang Jinhua watched them from behind with a gratified look.

Lu Chunfang had kneaded noodles at home. In the summer heat, cold noodles with cucumber shreds were refreshing and appetizing.

Meng Wan diced eggplant and pork and stir-fried a sauce with soybean paste. The family sat in the courtyard to eat noodles. Everyone used bowls. Even Xue Sheng, accustomed to the strict rules of the opera troupe, only had a small bowl, similar in amount to Chang Jinhua—sometimes even less than Meng Wan ate.

Only Song Tingzhou used a big bowl. When Meng Wan looked up and saw it, he couldn't help but laugh.

Song Tingzhou didn't mind, letting his husband tease him.

Later in the evening, when everyone was about to sleep, Song Tingzhou called Chang Jinhua into the west room. He opened the wooden box he had brought back and took out a silver bracelet, handing it to her.

"Son has been unfilial, making you toil all these years. Now that I'm studying, I don't know how many years it will take before I succeed. I've put you through hardship."

Song Tingzhou's tone was serious. He knelt down and kowtowed to Chang Jinhua.

Chang Jinhua's eyes reddened instantly. She didn't bother to wipe them with her handkerchief and hurriedly helped her son up. "Da Lang (Eldest Son), get up quickly. You've been sensible and understanding since childhood, saving me so much worry. Just focus on your studies. Mother and Wan Geer will handle things at home."

Meng Wan came in after brushing his teeth and saw the mother and son. "What's going on?"

Chang Jinhua still had tears on her face, holding the silver bracelet. Song Tingzhou beside her was relatively calm.

Meng Wan figured it out immediately. He stepped forward and took Chang Jinhua's arm, "This bracelet is really pretty. When did you secretly buy it, Mother? How about letting me wear it for a bit?"

Chang Jinhua was reluctant to part with it but couldn't refuse Meng Wan. "Then... you can wear it."

Meng Wan leaned on her, laughing, "I know it was bought for you by my husband. Just wear it, okay? What's there to be shy about?"

Chang Jinhua pulled out a handkerchief from her bosom, turned away to wipe the corners of her eyes, "What daughter-in-law is as bold as you, teasing your mother-in-law? Aren't you ashamed?"

Meng Wan coaxed her skillfully, "I'm like half a son to you. Which son is so formal with his mother? This is your son's heartfelt gift. Put it on and try it. When our family prospers later, we'll exchange it for a gold one."

Chang Jinhua put on the silver bracelet. It was half a finger width, with rounded edges, adjustable in tightness, engraved with large blooming lotus flowers. It was a classic old style. In the prefectural city, eight out of ten elderly women wore something similar.

But Chang Jinhua thought it looked beautiful no matter how she looked at it. She couldn't bear to take it off once it was on her wrist, yet feared damaging it. "How can I wear it while doing daily chores? Maybe I should take it off and only wear it when visiting or attending banquets."

Meng Wan covered her wrist, "Gold and silver aren't like jade decorations, afraid of bumps. Before, Qin Niang wore hers all the time while washing dishes at home, didn't she? Just wear it. If people ask, say your son bought it. How glorious would that be?"

Chang Jinhua's tears turned to laughter, "Fine, I'll wear it. But just don't be ostentatious. In the prefectural city, everyone is wealthy. Even in the same alley, who doesn't have some family fortune? If word gets out, people would mock us."

She knew they both had their own studies to attend to daily. After speaking, she got up and left, but faint sounds of conversation could be heard from the east room with Lu Chunfang. Clearly, despite her words, Chang Jinhua was delighted and couldn't resist sharing with Lu Chunfang.

Song Tingzhou handed the entire wooden box to Meng Wan, "I don't know if it's because I don't understand or what, but I couldn't find a satisfactory bracelet. I only bought a hairpin and earrings for you. If you find them cumbersome, just put them away. If you like them, even better."

Even though Meng Wan had never thought about wearing earrings, as someone receiving a gift, he should show appreciation.

"There's something for me too? Thank you, husband. Let me take a look."

Knowing that Meng Wan didn't like excessive adornment, the earrings were just a small silver ball, twisted into a small hook at the back. They resembled the stud earrings his female classmates wore in school.

Meng Wan let out a soft sigh of relief. "Not bad, not bad—acceptable."

The hairpin was made of two strands twisted together, with a small jade bead set at the top. The color was quite translucent; it was probably leftover edge material from making other items.

But even just that bead was not cheap.

Meng Wan asked Song Tingzhou to help him put it in his hair bun, then turned half a circle to show him the result. "Does it look good?"

He was asking about the hairpin, but Song Tingzhou stared straight at his face. "It looks good."

Meng Wan tilted his head, touching the round jade bead on the hairpin, and asked him, "You treated your classmates to drinks today and bought jewelry for Mom and me. Do you still have any money on you?"

Song Tingzhou coughed lightly and answered honestly, "None left."

"Heh."

Meng Wan chuckled, opened the cabinet, took out a dozen or so small silver pieces, fished out a new pouch from the basket, put the silver pieces inside, and handed it to Song Tingzhou. "My embroidery isn't good. I was planning to improve it before giving it to you."

Song Tingzhou was pleasantly surprised. "Specially embroidered for me?"

He took the pouch. On it was a crooked little boat, with a white cloud above it.

Meng Wan pressed his hands to his cheeks, a bit embarrassed. "I told you, the embroidery isn't good. I'll go ask Qin Niang for advice another day."

Song Tingzhou put the pouch into his bosom initially, then thought better of it and hung it on his belt. "This is perfect. You already work so hard every day."

An ordinary, simple sentence, but Meng Wan's heart raced. He buried his face in Song Tingzhou's chest. "It's not hard."

Song Tingzhou hugged him, planting soft, intermittent kisses on his forehead and temples.

Meng Wan nestled in his arms and whispered, "I forgot which book I read that said storax oil, when used in lamps, burns without smoke and is very bright."

Song Tingzhou responded gently, "Mm, there is such a claim."

Meng Wan rubbed the top of his head against his chin, then continued, "So Mom and I went to the oil shop after leaving the theater. Guess how much it costs?"

Song Tingzhou chuckled softly, the vibration of his Adam's apple making Meng Wan's cheek warm.

He played along and asked Meng Wan, "How much?"

Meng Wan stepped back from his embrace with a serious expression, "Two... taels of silver for one tael of oil. Oh my goodness, what kind of luxurious life do those rich folks live? Two taels of silver could cover a year's expenses for the Liu family in our village, and it only buys those gentlemen enough oil to light a lamp for a short while?"

Song Tingzhou's eyes followed him. He had been smiling, but suddenly he said, "Wan'er, I want to take the autumn provincial exam this year."

Meng Wan was stunned only for a moment, then raised the corners of his lips. "Good. Then put your mind to studying. I'll take care of everything at home."

Song Tingzhou had always been diligent in his studies, and from that day on, he worked even harder. It became routine for him to rise before dawn to recite texts. When the study in the western room could no longer hold his books, he added two more chests in the eastern room.

After the Start of Autumn, the weather didn’t turn cold all at once, but mornings and evenings became noticeably cooler.

The Song family’s breakfast stall closed pretty early. Meng Wan and Chang Jinhua sat in the courtyard making shoe soles from paste and cloth, taking advantage of the warm weather to finish the work before the cold set in and the soles couldn’t dry properly.

Meng Wan sighed as he spread the paste, “Ah, if only we could buy ready-made shoes.”

Chang Jinhua moved the finished base layers to a sunny spot to dry. “Once Da Lang becomes successful, we’ll follow the example of the wealthy families and hire some maids and servants, so we won’t have to do this work ourselves.”

Meng Wan smiled, sensing that Chang Jinhua was also tired of the chore.

Next door, lively sounds of a feast drifted over. After a while, Sister Li came by.

“Brother Wan, Aunt Song, you’re working on the uppers. Today is Qin Niang’s engagement ceremony, and we’re hosting quite a few relatives. Ma asks you and Aunt Song to come join the feast.”

The neighbors all knew that Xue Sheng was the new servant the Song family had bought, and Lu Chunfang worked as their laborer. Normally, only relatives were invited to such ceremonies, but Meng Wan had helped the Li family a great deal, so it was only right to invite him. Chang Jinhua was included out of respect for Meng Wan.

Meng Wan politely declined, “Sister Li, I won’t come today. When Qin Niang marries at the end of the year, I’ll definitely go early to keep her company.”

Sister Li urged him a few more times, but seeing he truly had no intention of attending the feast, she let it go.

After she left, Chang Jinhua said, “The butcher Qin Niang is engaged to seems decent. Our family has bought meat from his stall before.”

Meng Wan was puzzled. “I don’t remember that.” The meat stalls near the market by their house didn’t include Qin Niang’s fiancé.

“It was the stall at the north of the city. Back at the beginning of the year when we first came to the prefectural city, before Da Lang passed the exam.” At that time, Meng Wan rarely went out; Chang Jinhua did most of the grocery shopping.

“Oh, I think I recall. Once, when I went with my husband to buy potatoes, we probably went to that stall.” Talking about potatoes made Meng Wan want some. When the weather cooled down, he could go to the stalls at the North Gate to see if the old potato seller was still there.

“Mother, when Mid-Autumn comes and it’s cooler, let’s go to the North Gate and see if there are any potatoes for sale.”

Chang Jinhua agreed. “Sure. Potatoes keep as well as radishes and cabbage. We can take the cart and buy several baskets to last until next spring.”

Not only for eating, but if they moved to a larger courtyard next year, they could even plant some.

A while ago, Meng Wan had received another share of royalties from his manuscript. This time it came from three publishers. Although Baojin Studio’s share was heavily diluted, all three together earned him nearly two thousand silver taels.

Their household expenses were small—mostly paper, ink, brushes, books, and the occasional cloth and oil. The breakfast stall income covered daily expenses. If Song Tingzhou didn’t go overboard on books in a month, they still couldn’t spend all twenty taels.

Meng Wan had already asked a young male broker at the East Brokerage to look for a new residence. Since he was being thorough and not in a hurry, the broker took his time searching.

With no shortage of money at home, Chang Jinhua often went to the tile-market to watch plays. But good plays were rare and hard to find, so Meng Wan still preferred listening to storytelling. After his injury healed, Xue Sheng acted as his attendant and accompanied him to Changbei Washe's other entertainment halls to hear stories.

Lu Chunfang, restless at home, decided to spend six wen to join Chang Jinhua for a play.

“Last time, we told about how Mei Lang single-handedly charged into the Cangming Mountain Chang Cult, routing their disciples. The Left Protector, at his wit's end, was forced to reveal the whereabouts of the fox spirit Xiao Liu. As it turned out, he had been taken by the demon hunter Zhang Ming. Burning with anxiety, Mei Lang set off once more on his journey to find Zhang Ming. And so!”

The storyteller on stage slammed his gavel, and the room fell silent, all attention fixed on him. He then continued, “The second volume of Human-Demon Romance begins…”

Even though it was his own story, Meng Wan was spellbound.

On stage, the storyteller was relating how the fox spirit Xiao Liu was taken away by the stern young demon hunter. Xiao Liu, relying on his pure and kind nature, won Zhang Ming’s trust. But Xiao Liu was a demon, so Zhang Ming still didn't dare let him go easily.

At this point, they entered a remote and backward town plagued by demons and monsters. Every year, the townspeople had to sacrifice an unmarried girl or a young man of sixteen to the Mountain Demon to ensure the town’s safety, or else the demon would massacre the village and the townsfolk.

After investigating, Zhang Ming and Xiao Liu found no demonic aura on the mountain. When the annual sacrificial ceremony arrived, Xiao Liu substituted himself for the boy who was to be offered. Dressed as a bride, he was carried up the mountain by the villagers, and Zhang Ming mingled among them.

“The bridal sedan had just reached the mountainside when a sinister wind arose, carrying a gray-blue mist. In an instant, the crowd collapsed into a heap.”

“Zhang Ming, cautious, held his breath and pretended to be knocked out, falling to the ground.”

“The sedan curtains were lifted from outside, revealing the stunning face of the fox spirit Xiao Liu. He was wearing a bright red wedding gown, with a dab of crimson between his brows. His eyes were tightly shut—he too had fainted!”

The storyteller paused for a long while. The audience got impatient and started shouting:

“Go on, then?”

“Hurry up, we’re all waiting!”

“Get on with it! Get on with it!”

Just when everyone was itching with suspense, the storyteller slammed his gavel and cried, “To know what happens next, listen to the telling in the next installment!”

The crowd erupted in fury. What the hell? You’re cutting it off here? Are you even human?

In an instant, shoes, smelly socks, and vegetable leaves flew toward the stage. Whatever was at hand, they threw.

An old woman next to Meng Wan tossed the contents of her vegetable basket and nearly hurled the basket itself onto the stage. She must have been quite the hothead in her youth.

Luckily, far more money was thrown, and it all landed squarely on the storyteller’s face.

Unfazed by the pelting, he picked up the coins as he backed offstage. It was time for the next performer.

Meng Wan stood up and stretched. Xue Sheng followed suit when he saw him move.

“This Liu’er is quite foolish. What has the rescued young man to do with him? If he hadn’t saved that person, he wouldn’t have put himself in danger.” A clear, sweet voice came from Meng Wan’s left.