Chapter 54: Yu Family Fabric Shop

Li Banfeng wants money—a thousand yuan!

“Alright, alright…” Xiao Yeci quickly pulled out a thousand yuan in cash from the willow basket and handed it to Li Banfeng, who counted it twice before stowing it in his inner pocket.

“Let me remind you once more—if you don’t want to die, don’t go to the He family’s old mansion!”

They parted ways there; Xiao Yeci and her daughter did not go to the He family’s old mansion, but headed toward the train station.

Li Banfeng followed them all the way, watching them enter the ticket office.

They bought tickets—never expected they’d have travel permits.

With travel permits, good—hurry up and leave, the farther the better, for your sake and mine.

Li Banfeng returned to Ligou and went to the general store, but found the door still shut; he turned instead to the fabric shop next door.

The flamboyant shopkeeper, Yu Nan, stepped forward: “Buying fabric? Come this way—these are imitation satins, warehouse satins; over here, Ning silk, flowered spring thread; here’s flowered gauze, Hangzhou silk; and these are Hangzhou weave, Lake crepe—what catches your eye?”

This shop specialized in silk and satin, but Li Banfeng had no intention of buying fabric—he couldn’t sew.

After speaking at length and seeing Li Banfeng unmoved, Yu Nan asked: “Are you looking to buy ready-made clothes? We have tailors—if what’s on display doesn’t suit you, we can make you one.”

Li Banfeng shook his head: “I’m not buying clothes either.”

Yu Nan bit her slender pipe, fell silent a moment, then smiled: “Buying silk handkerchiefs?”

“No.”

“Buying bedcovers?”

“No.”

“Buying bed curtains?”

“No.”

Yu Nan drew a puff of smoke, frowned: “Then what are you buying?”

“Smoke.”

Li Banfeng sniffed the scent of the smoke—it was quite good.

Yu Nan blinked her large eyes, confirming again: “You came to our fabric shop to buy smoke?”

“Aren’t you smoking right now?” Yu Nan was smoking; Li Banfeng thought his logic perfectly sound.

Yu Nan’s expression darkened slightly: “Are you mocking me?”

Li Banfeng didn’t quite grasp the meaning of “mocking”: “Do you sell it or not?”

After a long silence, Yu Nan turned to her clerk: “Bring two packs of Great Fairy—on the house for this guest.”

Great Fairy, a famous ladies’ cigarette from Pulu Province.

The clerk brought two packs; Li Banfeng slipped them into his pocket.

“How much?”

Yu Nan smiled sweetly: “No charge—I’m giving them to you.”

This woman was generous, but Li Banfeng never accepted things for free.

“Make me a suit—pick good fabric.”

Yu Nan shook her head: “We don’t sell Western clothes.”

This shop sold only traditional attire.

Li Banfeng glanced at the ready-made garments hanging in the shop, pointed to one: “I want this… this long garment.”

Yu Nan turned and laughed: “You want a changshan?”

“Yes, that’s it—a changshan.”

“Lao Ba!” Yu Nan called to the clerk, “Bring the measuring tape—I’ll take precise measurements for this guest.”

Yu Nan herself took the tape and measured Li Banfeng, asking as she worked: “May I ask your name, sir?”

“I’m Li, seventh in line.” Li Banfeng gave his customary name, Li Qi, then asked in return: “What should I call you, madam?”

“I’m Yu, single character Nan. Master Li, if you’re kind enough, call me Shopkeeper.”

This Yu Nan disliked being called “Madam”—she was the owner of this shop, her own establishment.

“So you’re Shopkeeper Yu—my apologies for the oversight.” Li Banfeng adopted the local tone and exchanged a few polite phrases with Yu Nan.

Yu Nan, half-crouched as she measured his waist, looked up with bright eyes and smiled at Li Banfeng: “Master Li, where do you stay? When the clothes are done, I’ll deliver them.”

“I just arrived in Ligou.” Li Banfeng gave a vague reply.

Shopkeeper Yu took the tape and measured his legs: “A few days ago, I saw you buying many things at Feng’s General Store.”

Her meaning: You didn’t just arrive—I’ve been watching you.

Li Banfeng didn’t deny it: “I come and go quickly—no fixed address.”

“Then how do I deliver the clothes to you?”

“I’ll come back in three days to pick them up. Pick the fabric for me, and tell me the price first.”

Yu Nan selected a mid-to-high-grade silk for Li Banfeng, tapped the abacus briefly, then asked: “Will you pay in Heng currency or silver dollars? We also accept half-dollars.”

Li Banfeng didn’t know what a half-dollar was, but he had silver dollars—he wanted to know the exchange rate.

“How much in silver dollars?”

“One silver dollar, including labor and material.”

“What about Heng currency?”

Yu Nan blinked in surprise: “One silver dollar equals five hundred Heng notes—surely you know that.”

Five hundred yuan for a suit? Even in Yaowanggou, let alone in Yuezhou, that was extravagant for Li Banfeng.

Li Banfeng pulled out one silver dollar and two hundred Heng notes, handing them to Yu Nan.

Yu Nan expected him to haggle, but found he’d overpaid by two hundred: “What’s this mean?”

She thought he wanted two suits for seven hundred.

That was unacceptable—too steep a discount.

Li Banfeng said: “One silver dollar for the suit. Two hundred Heng notes—to ask you to do me a favor. If you hear anything about Master Feng in the next few days, let me know.”

Yu Nan smiled: “That’s a small thing—no payment needed.”

She returned the two hundred Heng notes to Li Banfeng.

Li Banfeng waved his hand: “Just take it. I want to be friends with you.”

For Li Banfeng, without paying, he had no right to ask for favors.

Yu Nan admired Li Banfeng’s straightforwardness, took the money, and lowered her voice: “If the suit doesn’t suit you, we’ll take it back or remake it. Also, there’s something else I may or may not tell you.”

“Shopkeeper, please speak.”

“A friend who came to Ligou with you is begging in Tail Alley—he won’t last much longer.”

A friend who came with me?

“Which friend?”

“That sturdy, kind-looking friend.”

Qin Xiaopang?

Li Banfeng froze.

Qin Xiaopang’s family wasn’t wealthy, but he wasn’t destitute either.

Besides, he’d received eleven Snake-Spotted Pills. In Pulu Province, unless it involved something special, prices weren’t high—one pill sold for ten thousand, eleven hundred thousand total—more than enough for Xiaopang to live in comfort for a while.

How could he be begging?

“Is there something behind this?” Li Banfeng sensed the situation might be complicated.

Yu Nan glanced around, lowered her voice: “Master Li, your friend apparently angered the Geng Family Pharmacy by selling pills.

They threw him onto the street, posted guards to watch him, and let him starve to death. The Geng Pharmacy has ties with the Jiang Xiang Gang—they do this often.”

Li Banfeng thought a moment, then asked: “Are the guards cultivators?”

Yu Nan nodded: “Yes, cultivators. One of them even had a past with me.”

“What sect? What realm?”

“Low realm, but unusual sect.” Yu Nan spat smoke toward the counter—the smoke twisted into the character “oil,” then vanished.

This woman could control smoke at will. Li Banfeng whispered: “You’re a Smoke Cultivator?”

Yu Nan smiled, but said nothing.

Li Banfeng asked again: “Did you approach me today to get me to help you take revenge?”

Yu Nan smiled: “I didn’t say a word—but if Master Li wants to save your friend, my shop is willing to lend a hand.”

Li Banfeng frowned: “So this is cooperation? Why me?”

Yu Nan said: “Because Qin Boss is your friend, and you’re a capable man.”

Li Banfeng didn’t deny the friendship: “How do you know I’m capable?”

Yu Nan exhaled smoke: “Anyone who survives the Misty Mountains has real ability.”

This woman’s been watching me all along.

Li Banfeng thought for a long time.

Xiaopang is in trouble.

Should I help him?

Li Banfeng owed Xiaopang nothing—even if he had once, he’d repaid it all.

But he’s about to starve to death.

When Li Banfeng was hungry, Xiaopang bought him two bowls of yangchun noodles.

…

Tail Alley was a secluded lane, its ends blocked off; on both sides stood old houses, inhabited only by poor families.

During the day, few passersby walked through the alley, but as evening fell, people gradually increased—and Qin Xiaopang, lying on the ground, barely alive, opened his eyes.

Dusk was his last hope for survival.

A passerby, seeing his tattered clothes and covered wounds, felt pity and tossed him half a bun.

Xiaopang reached out to pick it up.

Beside him, a man in a horse-hair jacket and felt hat stomped on the bun.

“Did I tell you to eat it?” The man in the jacket looked down at Qin Xiaopang and spat in his face.

Xiaopang said nothing and pulled his hand back.

A passerby, unable to bear it, stepped forward and asked: “Brother, why are you tormenting a beggar?”

The man in the jacket lifted his head, his left eyebrow drooping, his right eyebrow rising, his mouth twisting into a standard thug’s grin: “What’s it got to do with you?”

The passerby wanted to argue, but a woman beside him pulled him aside: “Don’t meddle—this is Geng Family Pharmacy asserting dominance. Just leave.”

Hearing it was Geng Family Pharmacy, the passerby said nothing and hurried away.

The man in the jacket crushed the bun underfoot, then kicked it far away.

Xiaopang lowered his head and closed his eyes.

He was a Food Cultivator; go a day without eating, and he might starve to death.

Yesterday he ate half a bowl of cold, spoiled rice and survived.

Today, he hadn’t eaten a thing—he doubted he could last.

If he couldn’t last, better to die. Starvation would bring release.

…

Inside his body, Li Banfeng waited for the Copper Lotus.

Those who have known hunger never forget those who gave them food.

Someone might forget, but Li Banfeng would not.

Li Banfeng glanced at the phonograph: “Wife, I’ve fed you before—you can’t forget me!”

Chit-chit~

The phonograph sobbed twice, singing in a trembling voice: “Oh, my husband, to marry a man is to eat and wear clothes—I’ve served you faithfully, day and night. Can you not spare me a bite? And those meals before weren’t even fresh!”

Her words made Li Banfeng feel ashamed.

He needed to find a way to buy his wife something fresh.

But before buying food, he had to equip himself.

The blood-drinking short knife had been consumed by the Lotus—surely it could yield at least one Rust Pill.

Though Li Banfeng already had one Rust Pill, carrying an extra one always made him feel more at ease.

Strange—why was the Lotus taking so long to refine the pill today?

PS: Half-open silver dollar, also called No. 2 silver dollar, is generally worth half of a No. 1 silver dollar (large silver coin).

Dear readers, do you remember Oil Cultivators?

(End of Chapter)