Most of his customers came at very specific times—either early in the morning before heading off to work, or slightly better-off families who stopped by after breakfast. By mid-morning, people were eating proper meals, so there weren’t many buying wraps.
Seeing that Yuan Zhao wasn’t planning to pack up and leave, the steamed bun vendor didn’t say anything more. Pushing a cart and calling out to sell was a common method—weren’t peddlers all doing the same?
Yuan Zhao took Yuan Yuan and headed toward the academy. Though he had never been to that street before, he knew where the academy was, so he walked there with ease. But the closer he got, the more nervous he became, afraid he might be driven away the moment he arrived.
He came at just the right time—likely during the scholars’ break. Even through the walls, he could hear their scattered conversations, mostly about their studies.
Yuan Zhao couldn’t understand a word of it. He simply pushed his cart to the street across from the academy gate. Shouting loudly wasn’t allowed here, so he could only hope the scholars would call him over themselves.
“Hey, the one selling wraps!”
They called him!
Yuan Zhao quickly responded and looked toward the voice—only to see a familiar face. No wonder the voice sounded so familiar; the moment he arrived, the man already knew what he was selling.
It was Cheng Du again!
Cheng Du waved at him. “Give me a wrap—make it hearty. I’ll share it with A-Ying.”
“Got it!” Yuan Zhao waved back.
He hurried to make an extra hearty one, even packing it separately so they wouldn’t have to split it themselves.
Yuan Yuan took the wrap and ran to the academy gate. Though it was only separated by a threshold, it felt like an insurmountable divide. He clutched twelve copper coins in his hand—that was the price with extra ingredients.
This time, Yuan Zhao didn’t refuse. He accepted the money cleanly, knowing they were deliberately helping him draw attention, so other scholars would come.
“Brother Cheng, Brother Fu, what are you eating? Where’d you get that?”
“It smells amazing—is that the wrap that’s been so popular in town lately? It’s huge! Where did you buy it?”
Cheng Du jerked his chin toward the gate. “Right outside. Probably just came from the street. Not sure if he brought enough—if you’re late, there might be none left!”
As soon as he said that, the scholars rushed toward the gate, calling out to Yuan Zhao to buy wraps.
Yuan Yuan hurried over to take their orders and relay them back to Yuan Zhao.
Those who had spare money to casually buy food were naturally from well-off families. Even when buying wraps, they wanted the best.
Yuan Zhao worked quickly, making them fast but carefully—if he made mistakes or delayed, they’d have to wait until the next class break.
After making several, a bell rang inside the academy. The scholars shouted a couple more orders before running off.
Yuan Zhao looked at the freshly made wrap in his hand—thick and filling. He couldn’t give it to the scholars now, but it felt too wasteful to eat himself. So he had Yuan Yuan hold onto it and play nearby. He could just make new ones later.
The scholars were generous. Yuan Zhao had originally planned to leave at noon, knowing they would eat inside the academy, but unexpectedly, they called him back to buy more wraps—some even ordering for classmates and teachers.
They ate happily, and Yuan Zhao was just as happy—because both his money boxes were full.
…
Days passed, and business grew. But trouble soon followed.
A shop steward approached, trying to buy his stall outright—first offering thirty taels, then fifty, and finally threatening him when Yuan Zhao refused.
Yuan Zhao played along, pretending to be frightened, but he had already decided—there was no way he would sell.
Later, at the academy, Cheng Du and Fu Ying confirmed his suspicion: it was most likely Li Qingwei targeting him out of jealousy, using Yuan Zhao to get at Shi Wuxiang.
That very day, things escalated.
A group of hooligans showed up at his stall, demanding food without paying. When Yuan Zhao refused, they accused him of poisoning them and tried to extort money, even threatening to smash his cart.
Seeing no other option, Yuan Zhao grabbed a burning stick from his stove and waved it at them.
“Don’t even think about stealing my money! Leave now, or I won’t hold back!”
The thugs hesitated—but just then, the steward returned, clearly working with them.
“You’ve thought it over yet?” the steward sneered. “Eighty taels. That’s our final offer.”
“I said I won’t sell!” Yuan Zhao shouted, his voice trembling with anger. “This is my stall—why should I sell it to you?!”
The steward scoffed. “You’re just greedy. Don’t be shameless. Buying your stall is doing you a favor—don’t refuse a toast only to be forced to drink a penalty!”
Yuan Zhao was so furious he could barely breathe.
Then—
“If he refuses to sell, what exactly do you intend to do?”
A cold, authoritative voice cut through the crowd.
Everyone turned.
A man in a noble purple robe stepped forward, his presence commanding. His expression was filled with anger—clearly outraged that such bullying could happen under his watch.
At the same time, Shi Wuxiang arrived, carrying Yuan Yuan.
He walked straight to Yuan Zhao, ignoring the crowd, and gently pulled him into his arms.
“Calm down. Breathe,” he said softly, patting his back. “Slowly… don’t be angry.”
“They’re so awful…” Yuan Zhao choked out, finally breaking down in his arms.
Shi Wuxiang held him close, his gaze turning cold as he looked at the others.
He didn’t need to guess what they were thinking.
They were all wondering—
what exactly his relationship with Yuan Zhao was.
The steward was stunned when he saw who had arrived. Not just him—everyone present grew uneasy. Behind Magistrate Zheng stood two squads of yamen runners, each with long sabers at their waists.
“Ma–Magistrate!” The steward dropped to his knees at once.
As soon as he knelt, the thugs who had been colluding with him hurriedly followed suit. Even the common folk, intimidated, knelt down one after another.
Magistrate Zheng had never oppressed the people. In the past, if anyone knelt upon seeing him, he would immediately tell them to rise. But today, he intended to make an example out of them.
“I had no idea,” he snapped in fury, “that there was such a thing as forcing people to buy and sell in this world! And you even brought hoodlums here to cause trouble at a stall. Men—drag them all away and give them thirty strokes of the rod!”
“Spare us, Your Honor! It was all Steward Li’s doing! We were just following orders—please have mercy!”
The thugs wailed and kowtowed frantically. They were only hired hands; how could they endure a beating? They immediately sold Steward Li out.
Hearing that the steward’s surname was Li, Yuan Zhao became even more certain this was arranged by Li Qingwei. His anger flared.
Knowing the magistrate was the people’s official, he slipped out of Shi Wuxiang’s arms and ran up to him. “Your Honor, this Steward Li said he was ordered by his young master! His young master even told others not to buy my wraps!”
Steward Li wanted to deny it, but with the magistrate right there and the punishment imminent, he could only endure it in silence. If he implicated his young master, his family might suffer as well.
Magistrate Zheng raised a brow, glancing at the indignant young man, then at Shi Wuxiang holding the child. He had not expected Shi Wuxiang’s spouse to be such a simple and straightforward young man.
“Steward Li, has your young master done such things before—disrupting the livelihood of the people?” Magistrate Zheng demanded sharply. Seeing the man’s guilty expression, he no longer needed an answer. “Outrageous arrogance! Beat him right here in the street. Let’s see who still dares to act lawlessly!”
The public punishment was meant to warn those lurking in the shadows. No one was allowed to interfere with the people’s business.
Sure enough, unseen eyes were watching. After witnessing the chaos, some quietly slipped away to report back.
The blows fell on the troublemakers, but echoed in everyone’s hearts. What shocked them even more was realizing that Yuan Zhao—the humble wrap vendor—had a husband who was a scholar, and one on friendly terms with the magistrate.
The punishment did not end there. Magistrate Zheng ordered Steward Li detained so his master would have to come bail him out.
Only after handling everything did he raise his voice again. “From today onward, all vendors must register their stalls with the yamen—what business they conduct, and who operates them. Any future changes must also be reported. No private transfers of stalls are permitted.”
The order sounded strict and added to the yamen’s workload, but to ordinary people it was real protection. With this, the authorities could keep track of their situation and even offer help if needed.
Most importantly, everyone understood which stall this rule had been made for.
Yuan Zhao finally felt at ease. With this in place, he no longer had to fear his stall being seized by force.
“The magistrate is really kind,” Yuan Zhao whispered to Shi Wuxiang. “You’ve got quite the… big face.”
Shi Wuxiang paused. “…You mean I have a lot of influence?”
“Yeah! Isn’t ‘face’ the same as influence? Face, reputation…”
Shi Wuxiang was speechless. The way he praised someone sounded almost like an insult.
The yamen runners quickly finished registering the stalls along the street. Magistrate Zheng then gestured for Shi Wuxiang to accompany him to Xiangxiang Restaurant.
“Wait a moment!” Yuan Zhao said, scooping up a ladle of batter.
His skills had become practiced. In no time, he spread the batter into a thin wrap, stuffed it generously with everything he could, then cut it in half and placed it into an oiled paper bag before handing it to the magistrate.
Smiling brightly, he said, “Your Honor, give it a try—it’s really delicious!”
Magistrate Zheng glanced at the fragrant wrap. Though officials were not supposed to take even a needle or thread from the people, the eager, expectant look in Yuan Zhao’s eyes made it impossible to refuse.
“Very well. Thank you for your effort,” he said with a hearty laugh.
Shi Wuxiang reached out and patted Yuan Zhao’s head. Just as he thought—this kind of child was naturally likable.
News of the yamen’s recent activity had already spread through town. When the restaurant manager heard the magistrate had arrived, he nearly panicked, rushing out with his staff to greet him and sending someone to fetch the owner.
When he saw that Shi Wuxiang was accompanying the magistrate, he was even more shocked. If only he had known they were this close!
“Your Honor, we failed to welcome you properly!” the manager said with a flattering smile. “Please, come in!”
“No need for formalities,” Magistrate Zheng replied. “I only wish to speak privately with Master Shi and his spouse.”
“Of course, of course! Please, this way!”
Shi Wuxiang got to enjoy a bit of “borrowing another’s prestige,” leading the magistrate upstairs to a private room. It was spacious, and before long, tea and snacks were brought in.
Magistrate Zheng hadn’t come solely for Shi Wuxiang; he also wanted to see whether the yamen runners could uncover any wrongdoing among the merchants, lest they think bribery could solve everything in his absence.
“Why did Your Honor come to town personally today?” Shi Wuxiang asked as he poured tea.
Yuan Zhao’s eyes widened—at home, Shi Wuxiang was always the one being served!
“I heard the merchants here had been acting dishonestly, so I sent people to investigate,” the magistrate replied. “Since you’re here as well, I thought I’d stop by. By the way—are you really taking the exams next year?”
“Yes.”
At first, Shi Wuxiang had thought it would be enough to find a job and make a living. But the matter with Li Qingwei and Cui Xiuxiu shattered that illusion.
Some people’s hatred came without reason and was difficult to resist. In his current position, he had no way to defend against it. Only by climbing higher—beyond their reach—could fear suppress that hatred.
He was merely a humble bookkeeper now. How could he stop here?
Magistrate Zheng grew even more pleased. “I have high expectations for you. Do not disappoint me. A scholar who does not take the exams wastes years of effort.”
“I understand,” Shi Wuxiang replied solemnly.
He could not boast with absolute certainty, but he would give it everything he had.
As they spoke, Yuan Zhao and Yuan Yuan quietly ate their snacks, not understanding the conversation but enjoying themselves all the same.
Before long, the yamen runners came to report that suspicious findings had been discovered in several shops. Magistrate Zheng barely had time to drink his tea before hurrying off.
After seeing him out, Shi Wuxiang returned to find Yuan Zhao and Yuan Yuan preparing to leave. Noticing the empty plates, he had more snacks packed for them.
“Take these home. Make sure to bathe and rest,” he instructed. “Be careful on the road.”
“I will.”
“Me too,” Yuan Yuan echoed.
Shi Wuxiang patted their heads one by one before sending them off.
Business was over for the day, but Yuan Zhao did not mind. With the magistrate backing him, no one in town would dare covet his stall again.
That was enough.
He would earn more money and support Ah Xiang’s studies in the future.
By the time he returned home under the blazing sun, Madam Shi and the children were already waiting under the eaves. They had been worried—whether he would return early or not—and seeing him now stirred complicated feelings.
“Sister-in-law, are you okay?” Shi Qingyue asked cautiously. “You seem… happy?”
“Zhao-ge’er, you came back so early—did those people cause trouble again? We should report it! We can’t let them bully us like this!” Madam Shi said anxiously.
Shi Qingran also looked at him with concern.
Yuan Zhao smiled. “It’s all settled. The magistrate happened to arrive when they came to cause trouble. He had them beaten and locked up.”
“That’s good, that’s good!” Madam Shi finally relaxed.
Making money was hard enough—if they were still bullied, how could they survive?
“Ah Xiang said he’ll take the exams next year,” Yuan Zhao said softly. “I want him to return to the academy.”
“He should,” Madam Shi agreed, though hesitantly. “But we need to ask him first…”
She had always believed he should study, but circumstances had forced him to work. Now that things were better, it was time to focus on what truly mattered.
Still, the decision had to be his.
“I’ll persuade him,” Yuan Zhao said. “I can earn money now. If I work harder at the stall, tuition won’t be a problem.”
“You discuss it among yourselves,” Madam Shi replied.
As parents, they hoped for their children’s success, but they could not decide for him.
Yuan Zhao beamed. “Yuan Yuan losing his tooth gave me an idea. The wraps are fine for adults, but kids who are losing teeth might find them too hard. I want to make another kind of wrap.”
“What kind?”
“Like a regular flatbread, but smaller and softer. It’ll use white flour, so it’ll be more expensive.” Yuan Zhao only had a rough idea and still needed to discuss it with Shi Wuxiang.
Madam Shi nodded. “I can make that kind of bread too. Let’s think it through—if it works, I’ll go with you to sell.”
“Sure!” Yuan Zhao grinned.
“Then we’re going too!” A-Yue and Ranran chimed in together.
There was no point clinging to the past. People had to look forward, and life was lived for oneself. Missing out on earning money just to save face—that was simply foolish.
Yuan Zhao immediately lit the stove again. Using fine white flour to make flatbreads was an expensive approach—if it worked, the price would have to be higher.
But after making several in a row, he still couldn’t achieve that soft, fluffy texture.
“Let’s try adding some oil…” he said, heading inside to fetch it. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll just eat it ourselves. Nothing goes to waste anyway!”
With oil mixed into the dough, it became noticeably softer. He rolled it out into a flatbread, cooked it through, brushed on sauce, then stuffed it with the leftover fillings—greens, slices of sausage, pickled vegetables, and more.
Yuan Zhao handed one to Yuan Yuan first. “Take a bite.”
Under everyone’s watchful eyes, Yuan Yuan took a big chomp. The bread was soft and tender, easy on the teeth, and even though the fillings were the same, the different wrapper gave it a unique taste.
“So soft—Brother, it’s delicious!” he giggled, passing it along.
Naturally, everyone else tried it as well. The flavor was indeed good—completely different from the yellow millet wraps.
But with white flour, lard, sausage, and eggs all going into it, each flatbread consumed quite a bit of their own resources.
“This tastes even better than fried white sausage—fifteen coins!” Shi Qingyue declared after taking a big bite, chewing rapidly until he finished the whole thing. “Sister-in-law, make another one—I want another taste!”
“Alright, then tonight we’ll have flatbread and soup!”
“Okay!”