The next day, Shu Rui visited a pottery workshop. The jar could be repaired but wasn’t suitable for pickling anymore.
He spent a few coins to fix it for storage, which was more practical than a broken jar for planting. Old jars were easy to find, but good ones for storage were rare.
With one jar lost, surplus vegetables remained. Shu Rui didn’t buy new jars for pickling, but dried more in the sun, then sealed them for storage.
Since he planned to stock dried vegetables, he bought some eggplants, radishes, and lettuce to sun-dry as well.
Yang Chunhua came by and commented on Shu Rui’s diligence, saying that by winter, the inn would have plenty of vegetables.
Shu Rui thought ahead: when the inn’s kitchen grew busy in winter, he would already have stored vegetables, saving money by not buying everything fresh—turning summer’s effort into future savings.
Yang Chunhua, seeing how well he handled the vegetables, and feeling inspired, took the chance to buy some fresh produce in her spare time, preparing them to dry and store.
She and her mother didn’t consume much, and buying from the dry goods shop was easy enough, but as Shu Rui said, saving a few coins here and there was worthwhile. When A Xing eventually studied for the imperial examinations, there would be plenty of expenses. Even if he were talented and achieved success, securing an official position would still require a substantial amount of silver to make the right connections.
Hearing this, Shu Rui comforted her: “If A Xing has that potential, the family will surely help. There’s no need to worry so much.”
Yang Chunhua shook her head: “How can I not worry? My mother and I aren’t close to my husband’s family. We can only rely on ourselves.”
Her in-laws had never treated her well, even when her husband was alive. After he passed, her mother-in-law blamed her for his death. She never spoke harshly to A Xing, but harbored resentment deep in her heart. Her own family, aware of her young widowhood, urged her to remarry. Arguments ensued: the in-laws threatened that if she remarried, she wouldn’t see A Xing again, and the child would remain with the Song family. Yang Chunhua could not bear to part with her son. Even if the Song family cared for him, she would have little peace of mind; with their long-standing bias toward the eldest branch, A Xing—fatherless and with a mother gone—would suffer.
She focused on running her shop and caring for her child, making life manageable, though she bore some resentment from her own family for refusing to remarry.
Shu Rui listened and thought, “Every family has its difficulties; there’s no perfect solution. Just try to ease your mind.”
Yang Chunhua smiled and patted his hand: “A couple of years ago, I would have been constantly worried. Now, because of you, I feel much lighter.”
She spoke honestly. Before, she would lie awake at night crying over her troubles. But seeing a young man like Shu Rui, modest and capable, gradually organizing the rundown shop, inspired her. Living with someone industrious was uplifting.
Shu Rui laughed at her praise: “I never realized I had such abilities.”
They chatted and laughed before attending to their tasks. That morning, the sky was low-hanging and heavy. Normally the morning was the coolest part of the day, but it felt stifling. Shu Rui sensed rain and took an umbrella, reminding Lu Ling to bring it when leaving.
Lu Ling, however, shrugged it off, saying summer showers were brief. Mouth full of a meat bun, he went to the martial hall. Shu Rui knew he wouldn’t heed him; if rain came later, he wouldn’t fetch him.
Feeling the oppressive heat, Shu Rui expected poor business at the market. He prepared mung bean drinks and plum soup, along with fried, battered meat and vegetables, in modest quantities, fearing low sales.
When ready to fry the snacks, he realized the oil was running low. He rotated through different snacks—pickled, steamed, fried, and braised—using oil quickly. Frying a batch required nearly half a basin of oil. Thankfully, fried snacks sold at higher prices; a plate of four dumplings fetched several coins, enough to make it worthwhile.
Carrying a pot of oil, Shu Rui went to a newly opened oil shop three doors away, paying forty coins for a pot to bring back. Wind blew fiercely, shop flags flapped, and lanterns swayed. Leaves from the tree above his display table scattered onto it.
Seeing this, Shu Rui moved his table and chairs inside and raised the food signage higher, signaling he was still open. He left the courtyard produce aside, fearing a sudden rain would spoil it.
“Hot and stuffy—let the rain fall quickly to ease the air. Shao’er, I’ve made drinks; I’ll bring a couple of bowls for my sisters.”
Zhang the fortune-teller crawled into the courtyard, chattering and calling Shu Rui to serve drinks. He handed her two bowls in larger dishes, charging six coins. She happily packed them in a food container to return later.
Seeing Shu Rui about to fry some crispy meat to sell, she lingered, gossiping about the neighboring house now locked, as the butcher’s wife had moved out. Shu Rui glanced across, admiring her decisiveness.
“That house won’t remain vacant long; I hear someone’s already rented it. I wonder when they’ll move in.”
He kept a casual watch—after all, the new tenant faced his shop. Knowing Zhang the fortune-teller craved his snacks, he set aside a piece of golden-fried crispy meat for her tasting. She left happily with the box.
By noon, gusts of wind and oppressive heat made the roof tiles clatter. Outside, cries rang out: “Rain’s coming!”
Shu Rui stepped out to see large raindrops falling. Thankfully, he had stored clothes and vegetables inside. People on the street covered their heads and scurried.
“Come shelter at my place. Have a bowl of mung bean drink and some crispy meat,” he called.
A young man climbed the steps, shook off the rain, and asked for some food. Shu Rui, initially expecting poor sales due to rain, found a steady stream of people seeking shelter and leisurely enjoying snacks while waiting for the storm to pass.
He served guests, eating simply himself with porridge and crisp pickled vegetables. Planning to fetch the evening’s academy list, he considered asking Yang Chunhua to keep an eye on the shop, but then heard a familiar customer call:
“Shao’er, a guest’s here!”
Shu Rui responded and saw Yu Qiaosheng folding his umbrella under the eaves.
“I’d heard you were selling drinks, but didn’t expect business to be this good.”
It was Yu’s first visit to Shu Rui’s shop. Entering the main gate, he noticed the lively customers inside. Glancing at the menu posted outside, neatly written in elegant small characters, he asked: “Did you write this?”
Shu Rui smiled: “The snacks and drinks vary daily. Writing them out helps customers find what they want without running around.”
Yu Qiaosheng praised: “I didn’t know your handwriting was so good—it rivals many scholars.”
His admiration grew, and a warm feeling arose in his chest. Shu Rui, pleased by the compliment, invited him to sit in the courtyard and served tea.
“Why have you come here today, Yu?” Shu Rui asked.
“I came for that. With mid-July passed, the next month’s academy exams approach. The school is tense; both teachers and students focus on studying, paying little attention to meals. Convenience is all that matters,” Yu explained.
Yu had come to say goodbye; the scholars about to be examined had little time for meals, so he would stop collaborating with Shu Rui temporarily.
Shu Rui understood—exam periods were stressful, leaving little room for other concerns.
“No matter. You’ve come all this way in the heavy rain. There’s no need for further inconvenience,” Shu Rui said.
Yu hesitated, then replied: “Stopping business, I can devote myself fully to study for the exams. I may not see you for a fortnight or longer.”
Shu Rui, puzzled, didn’t ask further. Yu, feeling he may have spoken bluntly, quickly added: “I meant only temporarily. You’ve always been kind and reliable. With this rain, I wanted to come and show my respect.”
“You’re too polite, Yu. After doing business together so long, I’ve taken the liberty of treating you as a friend. With exams approaching, I wouldn’t dare delay your studies.”
Yu’s heart warmed, a faint smile forming: “I won’t let it interfere with this moment.”
He lowered his voice: “If I achieve some results in this exam, then…”
“Yu, how are you here? Isn’t the academy on break today?”
Before he could finish, someone’s voice interrupted. Seeing the person enter the courtyard, Yu stiffened, as if caught red-handed, cheeks flushing. He bowed respectfully: “Brother Lu is back.”
“Yu Shizi came to deliver the list; this is the last time for today. Next month, the examinations begin.”
Seeing Lu Ling wearing a straw hat, Shu Rui wondered aloud, “Why are you back?”
“A tutor switched my afternoon class. I had nothing to do at the martial hall, so I came back,” Lu Ling replied. Then he glanced at the pale scholar beside him: “It’s just as well I returned. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have had the chance to meet Yu Shizi here.”
Yu Qiaosheng gave a dry smile.
Shu Rui, hearing Lu Ling’s odd words, didn’t argue in front of others, instead inviting Yu Qiaosheng to have a bowl of drinks.
Yu Qiaosheng insisted he couldn’t, as he would come again after the exams, and was about to say a few more words. Seeing Lu Ling return, he promptly excused himself to leave.
Unexpectedly, Lu Ling—uncharacteristically warm—stood at the door holding an umbrella: “It’s raining heavily outside. Yu Shizi came all the way here, and the academy’s lunch break is short. Such dedication deserves to be seen off properly.”
Yu Qiaosheng hurriedly waved his hands: “Brother Lu, you’ve just returned; I’d be troubling you.”
“Not at all. Please, come in,” Lu Ling said, self-assured.
Yu Qiaosheng had no choice but to thank him and followed Shu Rui inside to part ways.
Watching them leave, Shu Rui furrowed his brows, unsure what Lu Ling was up to this time. A customer called for more water, so he returned to his work.
Outside, the rain slanted down, striking the already steaming ground, making it damp and oppressive.
Yu Qiaosheng, uncomfortable, walked beside Lu Ling, feeling an unspoken pressure—as if accompanying an overbearing father-in-law displeased with his son-in-law.
Once they reached the main street, Yu could barely contain himself, taking a deep breath:
“My family is poor; I’ve never dared to think of many things, fearing I’d fail others. I focused only on my studies. Only tonight did I realize it wasn’t self-restraint; I simply hadn’t met someone worthy.”
“I know Brother Lu cares for Shao’er and rarely allows anyone close. I have neither family nor rank. Truly, I am undeserving of such attention.”
His gaze firm, Yu Qiaosheng spoke earnestly to Lu Ling: “For this exam, I will give my all. If I fail to gain distinction, I shall not trouble you again. But if I succeed, I hope you might say a good word for me to Shao’er.”
Lu Ling, caught off guard by the sincerity, paused. He was nearly ready to say something like, “Once he passes, you can entrust Shao’er to me,” but held back.
For a moment, his face shifted through several expressions. Finally, he muttered: “What do you take me for?”
Yu Qiaosheng, puzzled, thought Lu Ling might be accusing him of making promises too soon, before achieving any distinction.
“I speak with the respect of a brother; without that, I would not dare be frank with you,” he explained.
Lu Ling’s face darkened. Though he wanted to throw the young scholar into the gutter, he restrained himself. Losing his composure in front of others might make Shu Rui look down on him. Once his temper cooled, he assumed an air of magnanimity:
“Go and focus on your exams. Don’t get caught up in matters with no results.”
Yu Qiaosheng, seeing Lu Ling’s demeanor, grew anxious: “Brother Lu, do not mock a poor youth! I will prove myself to you!”
“What proof do you intend to give me? Have you even asked his surname? Do you really think we share the same Lu family?”
Lu Ling, seeing Yu’s persistence, calmed himself, presenting the image of a tolerant person—but Yu seemed unsatisfied.
“What you wish to give him, I can give as well. Now that this conversation has ended, if you trouble me again, I won’t be so polite.”
He withdrew the umbrella and left.
Yu Qiaosheng, still hearing Lu Ling’s words, lingered in the rain in a daze, finally realizing: Shao’er doesn’t share the Lu surname?!
He had sensed something odd before—Lu Ling was strikingly handsome, while Shao’er was plain. One resembled the father, the other the mother; their appearances were not alike. Their temperaments were almost reversed, too.
Dazed, Yu made his way back to the academy, oblivious to his own wet clothes.
Despite this, his mind raced. He realized that Shao’er’s unassuming appearance, yet being noticed by someone like Lu Ling, only proved Shao’er’s merit. Good things in the world aren’t simply handed to those who reach out—they must be earned.
Yu felt motivated, ready to devote himself fully. Only with achievement could one have the confidence to compete. With renewed resolve, he strode into the academy.
——
“You’re in a mood again. Who’s annoyed you?”
Shu Rui washed his hands and carried the dishes from the hall to the back courtyard. He saw Lu Ling plop onto a bench, arms crossed, wearing a frown.
He asked if Lu Ling had eaten after returning from the martial hall, but Lu Ling didn’t answer, simmering with unspoken irritation.
Shu Rui, guessing the cause, still pressed: “He came just to deliver a list. Scholars care about etiquette. You always get worked up over people who are polite to me. Must they mistreat me before you’re satisfied?”
Lu Ling, displeased, replied: “You still accuse me of overthinking. Do you know what he said to me?”
“What else did he say?” Shu Rui asked.
“He treated me with respect as an elder brother, made a vow, and said he would come find you after passing the exams, eager to be close to you!”
Lu Ling fumed, thinking the scholar hadn’t a chance without Shu Rui’s goodwill.
“You acknowledged he likes you, yet kept it from me. What’s the meaning of that? Were you hiding him?”
Shu Rui’s eyes widened, and he paused his work, incredulous: “You mean Yu Qiaosheng… surely you’re mistaken.”
“I didn’t mishear. Do you think someone like him would be making advances?” Lu Ling said sharply.
Shu Rui tried to calm him: “He’s young, inexperienced. Immersed in study, unaccustomed to women, it’s natural he misreads our business dealings. If he truly passes and gains fame and reward, he’ll have the maturity to realize his earlier notions were naive. He won’t trouble you again; he may even regret today’s words. Put your mind at ease.”
Lu Ling wasn’t fully swayed: “From your words, it seems a shame worldly conventions prevent him. If he passed and still came for you, wouldn’t that be more touching? What would you say then?”
Shu Rui thought: now that Lu Ling knows they’re not blood-related, Yu should understand too, and yet he still would come. Feeling some guilt for letting Yu acknowledge him as a brother, Shu Rui soothed him further:
“Since we care for each other, what do others’ words matter? Even if seven or eight young scholars sought me out, I wouldn’t respond.”
Hearing this, Lu Ling relaxed, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly: “You really mean that.”
Shu Rui, seeing Lu Ling’s expression of relief, couldn’t resist, slyly pinching his ear:
“I mean it.”