Chapter 241

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Protagonist:

Song Miao

The bundle was long and slender; inside there was only a single bamboo box, holding a handscroll.

Song Miao gently unfurled the scroll and saw a horizontal painting.

The painting was not large — over a chi in length, not even half a chi in height — and another sheet of paper covered it; the two wooden rollers were small and light, serving only as supports, very suitable for placing on a table.

The table in the front hall was used for daily meals; although it was scrubbed clean every day, it inevitably still caught a few specks of grease.

She thought for a moment, then rolled the painting up again, took up a lamp, and returned to her room.

Only this time did she lay the painting flat on the writing desk and peel off the paper covering it.

Unexpectedly, what that Young Master Han had sent from Hua Prefecture by messenger, crossing mountains and rivers, turned out to be a painting of a school of fish.

The painting depicted ten-odd fish, each with a different posture.

Song Miao examined it carefully; seeing that each fish had a name written above its head — Jia, Yi, Bing, Ding, and so on — she suddenly realized, looked at the fish in the painting once more, then took the lamp and went outside.

Under the eaves, in a corner of the courtyard, sat a large water vat.

The vat had half its rim broken and was cracked; it was no longer usable. She had not thrown it away, but filled the broken part with soil, transplanted the moss she had kept before, and gave the vat to the fish Han Li had sent last time.

The sky was already dark; even with the lamp she could only see many gray-black-and-green fish swimming slowly to and fro.

The oil lamp was not very bright to begin with, and there was wind, so she could see even less clearly; moreover, the fish in the vat were ordinary wild fish, without much beautiful coloration, and their bodies had no colorful patterns.

Song Miao studied them for a while but really could not match them up, so she had to give up.

By now it was the hour for rest; she was about to return to her room when she passed the room of Cheng Erniang and her daughter. The lamp inside had long been extinguished, but she could hear Xiao Lian chattering away to her mother in a low voice, going on and on about the dried jasmine flowers Zhu Jie'er had given her, and saying, "Mother, Mother! Zhu Jie'er said this makes a delicious infusion; tomorrow I'll brew some for you and Elder Sister to carry when we go out — how about that?"

Then Cheng Erniang urged, "I know, I know, your flowers are wonderful, Zhu Jie'er is wonderful too; you've been talking all night, no more talking, go to sleep! Talk tomorrow!"

Although it was unintentional, it still counted as eavesdropping; Song Miao hurriedly raised her lamp and walked quickly back to her room, feeling a pang of shame yet unable to keep a smile off her face.

Running a breakfast business, she had to rise before dawn, so naturally she had to sleep early.

She closed the door, planning to take advantage of daylight tomorrow when she had a moment to go back to the vat and identify the fish against the painting, then rolled the scroll up again.

While rolling it, she could not help but look at it seriously once more.

Compared to his calligraphy, Young Master Han's painting was clearly much more conventional; one could see he had used the brush very carefully when painting.

The inscription was dated only a few days ago; clearly it had been dispatched on a fast horse as soon as it was finished.

The painting had a colophon and a signature.

The colophon consisted of only two lines.

— Vast and joyous, the fish indeed.

— Is the human joyful?

The signature was even simpler: just the three characters "Li respectfully presents."

Recalling what she had just seen, the fish in the vat were indeed leisurely and content, from a human perspective, swimming in carefree delight.

As for the human herself.

Looking at this painting, and seeing the words, Song Miao could not help but smile knowingly.

Having just seen the small fish in the large vat, and now seeing the small fish in the painting, she felt as if her heart were also raising ten-odd fish, swimming and swaying, letting her heart seem to have become a pool of water, cool and clear, brimming with a faint joy.

She usually looked forward to every tomorrow.

Sleeping soundly at night, setting up her stall at dawn to earn money, having new and returning customers, new business, new ingredients, relying on her skill not only to make money but to be liked by many people, thereby exchanging for income, accumulating day by day, her debts decreasing day by day, the life she wanted waiting clearly not far ahead.

But before falling asleep this day, she had one more thing to look forward to.

After closing the stall, taking advantage of the daylight, she would identify the fish against the painting; the moss could also be cultivated more — right now it was still too thin and sparse; once it grew thick, when she admired the fish she could also admire the green moss.

When the month-end accounting came, after settling the accounts and giving Cheng Erniang and Dabing and the others their monthly wages and profit shares, she also wanted to give herself a little reward.

During the time she had been away, the capital had kept talking about digging a channel to connect to the river, but judging by the progress, it was actually not very promising.

The summer flood season was approaching; with more rain, if it flooded again, there would inevitably be times when she could not set up her stall.

She wanted to see if she could buy a rain chain to hang under the eaves for her own amusement.

In two more months it would be her birthday; every year in the past, her family would send her a golden lotus.

The golden lotus was drawn by her mother, and her father together with Uncle Xu from the mountain forged it; every year the flowers and petals differed, each engraved with a "Miao" in a different calligraphic style, hung under the eaves outside her room; whenever enough water collected, the golden lotuses would flip over one by one, pouring the accumulated water down with a patter.

The lotus pod contained a movable lotus heart; when wind blew or rain fell, the lotus heart collided with the petals, producing a crisp sound; there was also a mechanism — when quiet was needed, a gentle pull on the rain chain's long rope would activate the mechanism, fixing all the lotus hearts so they made no more sound, serving only as ordinary water guides.

Before coming here, her rain chain already had fourteen golden lotuses strung on it; when the wind blew or rain fell, she would open the window, lean on a chair, and just watching the rain chain flip and pour water repeatedly, one catching the next, could let her drift in comfort for half a day.

Now without the golden lotuses, she could hire a craftsman to make copper lotuses, iron lotuses, or whatever other cheaper lotuses.

When it rained, she would prepare some snacks and fruit at home, sit at her desk, open the window and gaze out, borrow a few travelogues and idle writings, accompanied by the sound of the rain chain — that too would be a fine day.

Her parents, the elders on the mountain — if they saw from heaven, knew, and saw her safe and smooth, her days passing happily and joyfully, they should feel very comforted, right?

The next morning she still went out to set up her stall as usual.

Yesterday's roll quota was four per person; she had also prepared more ingredients, so naturally more people got to taste it.

Knowing she could no longer hide it, the earlier talk that "the rolls taste ordinary, not as good as glutinous rice" dissipated at once.

Song Ji had always enjoyed a solid reputation among the students of Nan Lu and the Taixue.

This reputation had been built up solidly from the glutinous rice, shaomai, snow steamed cakes, Huang Bobo, various drinks, and previously a meal of pig trotter rice and a meal of taro braised pork.

Therefore, for the newly launched rolls, those who had eaten wanted to eat again or try other flavors, those who had not eaten wanted to eat; by the third day of setting up the stall, it was clear there were more monks than porridge — few could buy, many could not — and the students all became a bit anxious, helping Song Miao think of ways.

Some suggested she hire another person; some Nan Lu students urged her to open a breakfast stall at the food shop at the end of Suanzao Alley; even some Taixue students wildly proposed that everyone could take turns getting up at dawn to go to Song Ji to help steam glutinous rice and wash vegetables, without pay, just providing one day's meals.

Finally, even fellow vendors on Food Street could not bear to watch; neighbor Liu Saozi came to find her and said, "Xiao Song, you're short-handed here, you can make more, especially those rolls — right now there are too many people queuing, and even more who can't buy; if this goes on, they'll get tired of waiting and stop coming — you should prepare more!"

— Yet they were afraid the students couldn't buy, and if they got angry at Song Ji that would be one thing, but if they refused to come out, it would bring their business back to how it was before.

Going from luxury to frugality is hard!

Song Miao only smiled, thanked him, and neither agreed nor disagreed.

She has always felt that business cannot be done to the extreme; only when everyone eats meat and drinks soup together can harmony bring wealth.

Moreover, Song Ji currently has only two and a half people; the breakfast made not only has to supply Food Alley, but also the Patrol Posts, the Capital Prefecture Office, and two city gates — for the patrol soldiers — plus some regular customers along the way who pre-order; the workload is already extremely heavy, and really cannot be increased further.

A day has only twelve hours; a person's strength has a limit.

At noon they still have to cook for the masters, and in the evening there are entertainments from time to time; if all time and energy are put into early food, noon and evening cannot be managed.

And doing only student business has never been a long-term plan; the broader the types and sources of customers, the steadier the business, and the less likely problems will arise — otherwise a gust of wind, a rain, a government crackdown, or an academy decree, any one of them, could make this stall in Food Alley unable to continue.

Not to mention other things, just take the original Song Family Eatery; previously it relied on Nanlu Academy and flourished for many years; early last year the Shan Chang said one sentence, and a whole street of shops collapsed just like that — isn't that a lesson from the past?

Furthermore, although Song Miao lacks money and is anxious to earn money, she does not want to expand blindly for the sake of quick profits.

Unable to recruit suitable help, quality cannot be guaranteed; once the taste is off, the students now scrambling to line up at Song Ji will immediately turn hostile — in the food trade, the biggest taboo is treating diners like fools, thinking they all have dull tongues.

Song Miao's worries are not unfounded.

Previously, although many Nanlu Academy students crawled through the dog holes, the students came out in batches after all, and knew to hide and sneak.

Now a crowd of people, for the sake of lining up at Song Ji, each earlier than the last; one dog hole is not enough, two or three more have been added, and the queues crawling through holes grow longer and longer.

With such a commotion, the instructors previously turned a blind eye; now seeing it become increasingly brazen within the academy, they naturally cannot let it go unchecked, and must step forward to warn and admonish.

Everything requires tension and relaxation; discipline has been tightened for two years, even the tightest string will snap; students are full of complaints; hearing the instructors speak out, they comply on the surface but continue as before in private — those who should climb walls climb walls, those who should crawl holes crawl holes.

When Song Miao previously went to Hua Prefecture it was fine; after all she was not there, so others mentioned her much less; now she has returned to set up a stall, today steamed rice rolls, tomorrow a new drink, causing some to rise after Yin Hour, carrying books out the door, reciting while queuing; those who used to rank in the middle actually scored excellent in the minor exam.

Not only that, he even went around promoting it, saying that while queuing he especially easily enters a state, and his memory is particularly good.

Thus a trend rose throughout Nanlu Academy: students rising before dawn, going early to queue at Song Ji, reciting books while queuing.

One piece of news after another — Song Ji, Song Xiaoniangzi, Song Stall Owner, and all the glutinous rice, steamed rice rolls, and other foods — kept being mentioned in the academy; others thought nothing of it and just joined in enthusiastically; only one person, however, always hid in a corner, never interjected, wishing a righteous gale would blow from the sky and sweep those speakers away, never to appear before him again.

This person is naturally the former "Song Miao's" fiancé, Lin Yiwen.

The greater Song Miao's reputation, the more the students like her food and her person, the harder Lin Yiwen's days become.

Many people know that Lin Yiwen was once betrothed to Song Huai Zhou's sister, and then, because the Song Family met with trouble, he rushed to break the engagement without even waiting for Song Dalang's seventh day.

The care Song Huai Zhou and the Song Family showed Lin Yiwen, anyone with eyes can see; such ingratitude, such shameless conduct — those who once walked close to him are no longer willing to associate with him.

Lin Yiwen excelled in studies from childhood; teachers valued him, and his associates were all the outstanding ones among his peers and classmates.

This time, although it cannot be said he was ostracized, he is clearly being cold-shouldered.

During archery, no one is willing to hold the target or retrieve arrows for him; during the rare Cuju Ball Ball, no one wants to be on his team; even in class, the teacher recites excellent essays as usual, but when reading his essay, not a single classmate cheers — only endless silence.

No matter how Lin Yiwen encourages himself that adversity tempers one into greatness, or how he hates those classmates who were once close, the impact he suffers is real and tangible.

Thus, in the first exam after Song Miao returned, he failed again.

Three consecutive rank drops, a terrifying regression; the academy teacher who has always valued this student summoned Lin Yiwen for a serious talk.

Lin Yiwen wept bitterly.

He said the broken engagement was entirely his parents' doing; he himself had no such intention, and did not want to be that kind of faithless person; he was very willing to shoulder the Song Family's responsibility and care for that Song Family sister; alas, by the time he learned of it, the wood was already made into a boat.

He said he repeatedly persuaded them, but his parents refused to listen; life at home was unbearable; back at the academy, classmates could not understand, life even more unbearable; day and night it was as if ten thousand ants gnawed his heart.

He said this, said that, and also spoke of his past closeness with Song Huai Zhou.

"Even just for the sake of friendship with Brother Song, I would not break the engagement with the Song Family sister; but they are my birth parents — as a child, how can I disregard my elders and defy my parents' wishes?"

"Teacher, this student suffers so!"

Seeing such an outstanding student in such pain, the teacher could not help but feel compassion.

He asked: "What do you want to do?"

Lin Yiwen said: "I... I am willing to continue to shelter that Song Xiaoniangzi from wind and rain, but my family... the cardinal principles are above all; the student has the will but not the strength!"

The teacher sighed: "A person without trust cannot stand; if a man forgets gratitude and betrays righteousness, cannot manage a small family, how can he manage the state? I will go persuade your parents; such conduct will only ruin your future!"

He indeed sent an invitation card to the Lin Family afterwards, just waiting for a reply, then went to persuade them.