While watching them play cards, He Yi casually poured himself a cup of dendrobium juice. He was just about to fill Xue Ci’s cup as well when Xue Ci picked up He Yi’s cup and drank from it instead.
By the time He Yi reacted, the cup was already empty.
“…” He had drunk from that cup…
Xue Ci did not care in the slightest. He even glanced sideways at He Yi and licked his lips, as though hinting that He Yi should pour him another cup, then turned back and continued playing.
To He Yi’s surprise, Xue Ci actually knew how to play madiao.
He Yi watched for a while and barely managed to get the gist of the rules. There were indeed quite a few similarities to mahjong, but some of the mechanics were unfamiliar to him and felt a little like bridge. Even then, he only understood them vaguely.
Xue Ci, meanwhile, could even calculate the values and assemble different patterns. The names of the various patterns were rather entertaining, much like the special hand names in mahjong: “Charcoal in Snow,” “Unity of Heaven and Man,” “Straight Flush,” and so on. There were all sorts of complicated combinations, each one sounding remarkably elegant.
In truth, Xue Ci had been losing continuously before He Yi arrived. He had only just begun to find the pattern and managed one successful run at the table when He Yi showed up.
Looking at the paper strips stuck to Xue Ci’s face, He Yi finally could not resist asking, “How much do you have to lose before they stick one of those on you?”
Madman Tang lifted his eyelids and glanced at He Yi. “How big do you think we’d play with a kid?”
Since he had not answered directly, He Yi pressed warily, “How much debt does one strip represent?”
Xue Ci said, “Five hundred copper coins.”
“…” He Yi was stunned. They were playing for that much? And where had Xue Ci gotten money to gamble in the first place? Five hundred copper coins was still within what He Yi could afford, but he needed to stop the losses immediately. Xue Ci had needed He Yi to teach him how to dress. There was no way he had come to a gambling table on his own. These people must have coaxed him into it.
Madman Tang found He Yi’s nervous expression hilarious and deliberately teased him. “It’s not as though he’ll lose forever. If you lose some, you win some. He’ll win it back eventually!”
“You can’t keep saying that word at a gambling table. It’s unlucky!” Zhang Waizi cut in.
The crease between He Yi’s brows deepened. He no longer had any interest in the cards. One hand rested on Xue Ci’s shoulder as he hesitated over what to say.
If they kept teasing him, He Yi really might drag Xue Ci away, and then they would be short a player again. Madman Tang coughed. “Hey, hey, why can’t you take a joke? This kid doesn’t have a coin to his name, so we had him use paper strips instead of cash. Don’t you see the three of us aren’t wearing any? You think we could possibly win every round? We do have some rules. A kid who sits at our table doesn’t have to pay his losses.”
He Yi looked at Madman Tang suspiciously, apparently weighing whether he could believe him.
“We normally play for money, but that’s real silver and copper coins,” Lin Da’an said, sipping his wine with his face flushed from drink. “Who’d recognize those little strips as debt? There’s no signature or thumbprint on them!”
That did make sense. Without anything written down as proof, it was common enough for people to deny a debt once they left the table. If they really tried to force Xue Ci to pay, He Yi could simply think of a way to take him away later. There probably would not be much anyone could do about it.
He Yi said nothing more and continued watching them play, while once again turning over in his mind how to bring up the matter of lodging without sounding too abrupt.
It actually came to him after only a moment. Seeing that they already reeked of alcohol at this hour, He Yi tested the waters. “You all gather here to play madiao pretty often, don’t you? If you get drunk, do you go home at night, or do you just stay here?”
Zhang Waizi slapped his thigh. “Ha! I sleep in a side room. I’ve stayed in the West Courtyard twice altogether.”
Lin Da’an immediately looked aggrieved. “Hold on. Then why do you chase me home every time? So there were several times you never left at all? I thought you went home every time just like me!”
“Ha! Foolish An, you’ve got a wife waiting for you at home. How can that be the same as a bachelor like me?” Zhang Waizi said.
The two immediately started bickering.
Madman Tang happily watched the show, but once he remembered that He Yi had been the one to ask the question, the look he gave He Yi became rather knowing.
Having laid the groundwork, He Yi moved to his real point. “Brother Tang, forgive me for asking, but could I stay here for a while? I’ll pay rent.” In other words, he meant the cost of renting a room.
Madman Tang had already guessed more or less why He Yi had come. His information was always good, and he had long since heard about the division of the He household.
He asked, “How long?”
Maybe He Yi would still be here when a certain someone returned, just in time to make that person jealous over nothing? Madman Tang thought with wicked amusement.
“I’ll find a way to build my house as quickly as possible. If it’s convenient for you, I’d like to stay for one month to start.” Buying land and building a house would attract some attention, but everyone lived in the same village and would find out sooner or later. There was no harm in saying it openly now.
He Yi knew he was not particularly close to Madman Tang. They lived in the same village and could be said to know one another’s backgrounds, but it still was not easy to accept a near-stranger into one’s home.
Madman Tang, however, was clearly not the sort of person to be tightly bound by conventional propriety. He did not mind renting out part of the residence he lived in and agreed readily. “Fine. Another month after that would be all right too, though any longer and I might get annoyed. You’ll have to clean your own space. And unless there’s some reason, don’t come into the East Courtyard. You can use the West Courtyard in the rear compound.”
“Thank you, Brother Tang! I truly can’t thank you enough.” He Yi rose and gave him a bow.
The two of them went aside to discuss the rent privately. It was even cheaper than He Yi had expected: ninety copper coins per month.
He had no basis for comparison. He did not know the going rent in town, and town prices were hardly comparable to village prices anyway, not to mention that this residence was genuinely impressive. He Yi decided not to dwell on it. The rent was within what he could afford, and money could always be earned again. More importantly, this solved an urgent problem.
He Yi’s gratitude was sincere, and perhaps Xue Ci was affected by his mood. He picked up a cup of dendrobium juice and held it out to Madman Tang.
Madman Tang did not take it. He shook the wine gourd in his hand, indicating that this was all he drank.
He Yi chimed in, “Xue Ci, drink it yourself. Once you’re done, come with me to where I’m staying now. I have something for you.”
Still looking at He Yi, Xue Ci drank the dendrobium juice, then nodded. “Okay.”
Madman Tang had not expected He Yi to carry off his card partner in the blink of an eye. He immediately insisted that Xue Ci stay and finish a full round with them before leaving, threatening that otherwise the room was no longer for rent.
He Yi could do nothing with him. He had to stand by and watch them finish an entire round of madiao. By the end he was almost beginning to understand the rules himself, and the sun was nearly setting before he finally managed to take Xue Ci out of the Tang residence.
To keep Xue Ci from running into Eldest Uncle’s family, He Yi brought the straw sandals Auntie Liu had woven to a secluded spot outside the He ancestral residence and taught him how to put them on. Before that, he even scooped up a ladle of water and had Xue Ci wash his feet clean.
Each straw sandal had a thin cord that looped around the ankle. Perhaps because Xue Ci’s feet were pale as jade, long and slender without being large, the finished effect looked rustic yet oddly delicate.
Xue Ci had never tried walking in shoes before and was not quite used to it. He paced back and forth, stepping here and pressing there as though the experiment had become fascinating in its own right.
He Yi stood nearby with his arms folded, the corners of his mouth lifting without him realizing it.
After a while, He Yi remembered something that had been bothering him and could not resist asking, “Where do you sleep at night? Do you have somewhere to stay?”
Xue Ci looked away from his shoes and toward He Yi. He blinked. “I sleep on the mountain.”
“…??” He Yi’s face went blank. For a moment, he did not even know how to react.
Seeing that he had not understood, Xue Ci pointed toward Yaluo Mountain behind them.
Now He Yi could no longer pretend he had misheard.
“There’s still a tiger in the mountains. Aren’t you afraid you’ll run into it when you go back?” Xue Ci had casually followed him down the mountain in the first place, as though Yaluo Mountain were his own backyard. He came and went whenever he pleased.
“It can’t beat me,” Xue Ci said with complete confidence.
“…” He Yi could only think, Damn. Badass. He neither said whether he believed Xue Ci nor argued with him. He Yi did not consider himself someone who meddled in other people’s affairs, yet when it came to Xue Ci, he could never stop himself from worrying and wanting to look after him.
Tigers began moving around at dusk, and it was already a dangerous time to head back. He Yi still could not put his mind at ease, so he suggested that Xue Ci spend the night in his room instead. He only needed to be careful to avoid He Yongxing’s family when coming and going.
Xue Ci did not agree, however. He kept looking toward Yaluo Mountain, deep in thought. In the end, all He Yi could do was remind him to be careful on the way. Before night fully fell, Xue Ci headed back up the mountain.
*
The night passed.
Although his lodging problem had been settled, there were still plenty of things waiting for him today.
So busy.
Early in the morning, He Yi first went to his cotton field to weed. Cotton seedlings did not need much water at this stage, so he only needed to irrigate if the soil was too dry. His main task was checking how the seedlings were growing and whether there were signs of pests.
While he was there, he also stopped by the seedling plot. The hired hand had already tended it, watering and weeding where necessary, and had since moved on to the other dry fields.
Seeing no problems in the fields, He Yi headed home to feed the chickens and clean the coop, then waited for Peddler Zhang to arrive.
After half an hour, however, the man still had not come. He Yi figured there was no point sitting there doing nothing and considered taking care of some other errands first. Leaving for a little while should not matter. Even if he and Peddler Zhang missed each other, the man would surely wait at the He residence until He Yi returned. He would be back soon enough.
So He Yi ran over to the home of Grandpa Cen, who normally drove an ox cart back and forth between the village and town, intending to reserve the cart.
Grandpa Cen was almost “overwhelmed by the honor.” The town was still sealed, and he had gone many days without any business. His eldest son had even complained about him two days earlier. Now work had actually come knocking on his door, and he had never imagined someone might hire him in advance for a special trip. He was delighted.
Even though Hejia Village was some distance from Chongzi Village, Grandpa Cen accepted the job and agreed to take He Yi there the next day. As for hauling pond mud back, he would need to raise the wooden sides of the rear cart bed, but that was no trouble. He would take care of it.
With that settled, He Yi hurried home, only to find that Peddler Zhang still had not arrived.
He Yi hesitated over whether he should start moving his belongings to the Tang residence now, in case He Yongxing’s family came looking for trouble the next day and left him scrambling so badly that he forgot things.
Before he could act, Peddler Zhang finally appeared beneath the blazing sun, carrying the goods He Yi had ordered.
“This place was a real pain to find. Here, everything you wanted is here.” Peddler Zhang knew he was late and looked a little guilty, wiping his sweat as he sighed repeatedly.
“Thank you for the trouble.”
Money in one hand, goods in the other.
He Yi handed Peddler Zhang the remaining twenty copper coins. Peddler Zhang accepted them, counted them, and, seeing that the amount was correct, offered a couple of auspicious phrases before leaving.
He Yi had even wanted to invite him in for a drink of water, but the man left far too quickly. He disappeared from sight in no time, so He Yi could only let the matter drop.
He Yi looked at the half slab of white sugar rice cake wrapped in bamboo leaves, brought it back to his room, and cut it into four pieces. The cut face of the cake looked almost like a vertical slice through a honeycomb, with neat, airy channels running through it.
Because offerings were traditionally presented in odd numbers, he deliberately set one piece aside and first took it over to Madman Tang.
He had arrived empty-handed the day before. This counted as making up the gift, and it made him feel better about moving his belongings over ahead of time.
It was only one piece, but sugar itself was expensive, and white sugar even more so. Among sweeteners, only rare honey was considered finer. Sugar yields in this dynasty were low. The south produced plenty of sugarcane and planted it extensively, so prices here were not as high as elsewhere, but white sugar still cost fifty copper coins per jin. One piece was therefore more than respectable as a gift.
Brown-sugar rice cake was actually more common in everyday life, but white was more suitable for offerings. Influenced by local custom, people were more willing to spend money on it and generally preferred white sugar rice cake when making offerings to their ancestors. He Yi simply followed local practice and chose the white kind.
Elio’s Notes: White sugar rice cake, bai tang gao (白糖糕), is a steamed rice cake made from rice and white sugar. Its lightly fermented batter gives the cut surface a distinctive honeycomb-like network of vertical holes and a soft, springy texture.
When He Yi brought it over, however, Madman Tang looked at him as though he had no idea how to appreciate good things. “I want one that’s been offered first. An ancestor-blessed one is auspicious.”
He Yi had never heard a request like that. He had no choice but to go to A’ma’s grave first to burn incense and spirit paper, then bring the offered white sugar rice cake back and share it with Madman Tang.
He had originally intended to save a piece for Xue Ci, but that fellow appeared and disappeared without warning, and there was no telling when He Yi would see him next. He could buy him something else tasty next time. Thinking this, He Yi ate the piece himself.
The outside of the white sugar rice cake was springy and pleasantly chewy, while the inside was lightly sweet and soft, carrying the distinctive fragrance of rice. It was not overly sweet, and two small pieces were nowhere near enough to become cloying. He Yi finished them quickly.
“Then I’ll go move my things over. I’ll formally move in tomorrow. I’ll be in your care from now on, Brother Tang.” He Yi rose as he spoke.
Madman Tang suddenly asked, “You don’t know my real name, do you?”