Chapter 9: Selling the Pouch
Feng Yuzhen took a ride to town. Besides buying rice, oil, and salt, she had another task—the thin jacket Cui Jingkong had used to cover her legs and the handkerchief he had given her. She had washed them both and placed them neatly folded on the chair in the main room where Cui Jingkong usually sat.
The weather had warmed up quickly in the past few days, and Feng Yuzhen had changed out of her bulky winter clothes. She stared at the young man’s thin jacket, which he had left at home, feeling troubled.
She knew that Cui Jingkong was still quite poor at this time. He had barely enough clothes for the four seasons to get by, just enough to change and wash.
Although he was favored by his teacher, Cui Jingkong would only accept things related to the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. He would refuse luxurious items like fine clothes and delicacies.
Zhong Jide was very pleased with his discretion and humility, though he never said it aloud. He had given Cui Jingkong some of his old clothes from decades ago, which Cui Jingkong had accepted.
But early spring was always a time of fluctuating temperatures. If a late spring cold snap hit, with snow or hail, he could easily catch a cold without thick clothes to wear.
Although he had said he would be back early, the time was uncertain. Feng Yuzhen was a little worried and decided to take the jacket to her brother-in-law the next day.
Auntie Qian’s third son, Qian Yongshun, was waiting at the door early in the morning. She herself didn’t come this time.
Feng Yuzhen sat on the edge of the cart with her bundle and asked tentatively, “Can we make a stop at the private academy? I have something to give to Kong’ge’er.”
He agreed readily. Everyone in the village knew that the road to town passed by the grand private academy. But he had two conditions: first, they would go on the way back, and second, he wouldn’t drive the cart close. He would stop at a distance and let Feng Yuzhen walk the rest of the way herself.
The first condition was reasonable, but the second was indeed a bit strange. Qian Yongshun, as if remembering something, shivered and his neck shrank. He had a pained look on his face. “Don’t mention it. I never want to see Cui Er again in my life.”
Feng Yuzhen was taken aback. She suddenly noticed four or five crescent-shaped white scars on the side of his neck and instantly understood the so-called “conflict” Auntie Qian had been hemming and hawing about yesterday.
This incident dated back more than a decade. When Cui Jingkong was five, he still couldn’t speak. His expression was dull, and he would stare at a stone all day without moving his eyes. He ignored anyone who touched or spoke to him.
At first, the village children found it strange and would laugh and play around him. Later, seeing him as a breathing wooden doll, they gradually became rougher in their pushing and shoving. The good and evil of children are the purest and simplest, requiring no reason.
Until one day, the seven-year-old Qian Yongshun pushed him into the river. If Cui Jingkong hadn’t moved, he would have drowned. He thrashed and swam to shore, his small face blue with cold.
His eyes glared fiercely at Qian Yongshun. He lunged at him and wrapped both hands tightly around his neck.
The surrounding children were stunned. The older ones tried to pull him off, but couldn’t budge him. Cui Jingkong’s two thin arms were like iron walls. Qian Yongshun was being choked so hard that his eyes were rolling back in his head.
The children were so scared they started to cry and ran away. It was only when Auntie Qian and Third Master Cui rushed over that they were pulled apart. Fortunately, his hands were small and his bones were soft. Although Qian Yongshun’s face was purple and there were ten bloody nail marks on his neck, he was fine after a few coughs.
And so the feud between the two families began. Third Master Cui paid money and apologized profusely, even making Cui Jingkong kneel and apologize to him. But Auntie Qian still came to the Cui family’s door every day, standing with her hands on her hips and cursing for a whole month, saying her son was having nightmares and would wake up crying, too scared to even leave the house.
Third Master Cui knew his son had been behaving strangely since he was a child. Not long after this incident, he took Cui Jingkong to the mountain to pray to the gods and buddhas. That night, he slipped and fell to his death, which in a way was the source of all the misfortune.
Cui Jingkong’s crazed act had directly snuffed out Qian Yongshun’s budding tendency to go astray. He was now a carpenter’s apprentice in town, with a skill to his name. He had married and had a child two years ago, and was living a steady life.
*
The town was not small. The streets were bustling with carts and horses. Street vendors hawked their wares, and monkey performers and singers performed. Even on non-market days, it was noisy and lively.
Feng Yuzhen didn’t go shopping right away. She stood in front of an embroidery shop for a long time, her expression hesitant. Seeing the various embroidered goods displayed in the shop, she tightened the bundle on her shoulder, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.
The shopkeeper looked up and saw a plainly dressed woman with a slight limp. He immediately lost interest in serving her and lowered his head to continue his calculations on the abacus. Two exquisite pouches were pushed into his view, one with a tiger-head pattern and the other with a lotus flower, one for a man and one for a woman.
He picked them up and examined them closely. Although the fabric was coarse, the embroidery was fine and the patterns were beautiful, showing exquisite workmanship. In all his years here, this was the first time he had seen such high-quality work.
Feng Yuzhen, who had presented the two pouches, was a little nervous. “I’ve come to pawn these.”
When he looked up again, his expression was very amiable. “Did you embroider these, miss? May I ask who your teacher was? I seem to see a hint of the Su style in them.”
Feng Yuzhen pursed her lips, feeling a little embarrassed. “I don’t know anything about that. My mother taught me everything.”
The shopkeeper smiled and held up a number. “Thirty copper coins. I’ll take both of these pouches. Your embroidery is superb, miss.”
Being able to sell them was already an unexpected joy. Feng Yuzhen, who had been anxious, couldn’t help but smile. The shopkeeper continued:
“But I would like to invite you to be an embroiderer for my shop. The price will be no lower than today’s, and we will provide the expensive needles, thread, and fabric. You only need to deliver at least five pouches each month. What do you think, miss?”
The shopkeeper knew very well that although this woman’s skills were good, she had definitely never sold her work herself. Work of this quality could fetch fifty wen a piece.
This pie falling from the sky stunned Feng Yuzhen. Her eyes widened comically. She couldn’t think that far ahead at the moment and didn’t dare to agree on the spot. Being cautious by nature, she only said she would go back and think about it.
She dazedly took the money and was shown out of the shop by the shopkeeper. She quickly picked out some potatoes and pickled vegetables that were easy to store from a street stall, and also bought two bags of yellow millet.
*
Meanwhile, Qian Yongshun went straight to his master carpenter’s house, shouting as he entered.
“Brother Zhao, pick out a table for me. I want a good one. I’ve brought enough money.”
“What’s wrong?”
The man who spoke had his back to him. He was shirtless, revealing two dark arms. One leg was bent and firmly planted on a stool, his broad shoulders and back tense as he sawed a piece of wood back and forth.
“My mother told me to give that scholar a desk as an apology. Sigh, I really don’t want to see him. It’s worse than death.”
The man put down the saw and turned around. He was strong and burly, with a hideous scar across his left cheek. The other half of his face had sharp, handsome features. He casually wiped the sweat from his brow. “You’re afraid of a scholar.”
“You don’t know. I was almost strangled to death by him when I was a child. I came with his sister-in-law today.”
Qian Yongshun grumbled, then suddenly remembered that the other man was also a lonely bachelor. He grinned mischievously. “Brother Zhao, you don’t have a partner either. This girl is the same age as me, and her husband just died. Why don’t I be the matchmaker and you two get together? An old cow eating young grass!”
Zhao Yangyi spat at him and threw a block of wood at him, hitting him squarely in the chest. He laughed and cursed, “Get lost!”