The dry rations they brought had been eaten.
About half a liter of rice remained, just over a pound of flour, and the jars of condiments were nearly empty. Initially, they hadn’t prepared much for convenience, so having some left over from the journey was already fortunate.
Shu Rui surveyed the supplies and sighed, knowing he would soon need to spend money again.
Unlike other items, grain cannot be stretched; rice and flour must be eaten daily. Running out meant hunger.
He put the remaining rice in a pot, cut a radish into thin shreds, and lightly salted them to draw out excess water.
Stirring the rice, he peeled and separated the vegetable leaves. Suddenly, a hand reached over and took the basin away.
Lu Ling, noticing the work, had gathered old wood from the inn for the stove as smoke began rising from the chimney.
Simple living—items previously considered precious, like a large knife, were now used for chopping firewood.
After splitting the decayed wood into smaller pieces, he went to the stove, quietly washing the greens by the eaves.
The street outside gradually grew lively, and the sizzling greens filled the air with aroma.
Lu Ling found a still-usable table in the main hall, brought it to the courtyard, cleaned it, and placed it by the kitchen.
Two pairs of chopsticks, two bowls—they sat down to eat together.
Shu Rui finished tidying, removed his apron, and saw Lu Ling waiting eagerly at the table.
“You didn’t wash your hands again,” Shu Rui said.
Lu Ling’s brow twitched. “Didn’t I wash while preparing the vegetables?”
“Didn’t see you wash your feet or face at the same time,” Shu Rui teased.
Lu Ling squinted, then jumped up, quickly washing his hands properly with the water Shu Rui had just used.
The rice porridge was soft and smooth, the greens fragrant with oil, and the radish salad tangy and refreshing.
Despite the limited condiments, Shu Rui found the meal quite satisfying—after eating coarse food for days, even a simple breakfast tasted excellent.
Lu Ling ate three large bowls in quick succession.
Just as they were enjoying their meal, two tentative knocks came at the back door. Shu Rui thought perhaps the vegetable seller had come early with garlic.
He opened the door, only to see a new face.
“Oh? You are…”
The young man with a missing tooth paused, then stepped back, confirming he was in the right place. “Is there a Mr. Lu living here?”
Shu Rui, uncertain who he was, called into the courtyard, “Lu Ling, do you know this young man?”
Hearing this, Lu Ling came over, still holding his bowl.
“Ah, so you really are here, Brother Lu. Three large boats will dock at the wharf today. You should come handle the work.”
Lu Ling nodded, quickly finishing his porridge, then went to the stable to harness the donkey cart.
Shu Rui, seeing him get to work, politely addressed the young man: “Thank you for coming so early, Brother Xiao. Have a quick bite inside; don’t mind settling for a simple meal.”
Who would have thought the messenger would be so unreserved? “I’m starving—so I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
Shu Rui was momentarily taken aback. He hadn’t expected such lack of formality, and now that the topic had reached this point, it was inappropriate to shoo him away.
Fortunately, there was plenty of porridge, and since Lu Ling hadn’t yet finished, Shu Rui led the young man inside and added a bowl for him.
The messenger looked around the courtyard. Half of the inn was renovated, half still in disrepair.
No wonder he had seen the main door locked when he arrived earlier. If he hadn’t noticed the lock was new, he would have walked away in vain, unaware he could have come in through the back.
“You just moved here, sir?”
Messengers always liked to gather information—it was part of their trade, and it explained why he hadn’t minded sharing an early meal.
Shu Rui nodded, explaining that he was still tidying things up.
The Ten-Li Street was fairly well-known. For a shop closed for over ten years to suddenly reopen, it was normal for passersby to inquire about it.
The messenger had intended to ask if Shu Rui would run a business here, but after taking a bite of the shredded radish, he momentarily forgot his question.
The radish was crisp, salty, and spicy—perfect with porridge. Eating it on its own, three heaping chopsticks, he exclaimed, “Whether you made this yourself or bought it from some eatery, in this summer heat, a plate like this is so refreshing!”
Shu Rui smiled. “I just whipped it up myself.”
Now he no longer felt the need for excessive politeness. “If it suits your taste, young master, let me know in advance next time, and I’ll charge two coins to prepare a plate for you.”
The messenger replied earnestly, “That’s perfect!”
He resumed eating, finishing Shu Rui’s plate of vegetables after the porridge, but didn’t take more himself.
Lu Ling hitched the cart and called the messenger along, not wanting him to stay alone with Shu Rui in the inn.
“If you return late, I’ll bring your meal to the wharf at noon,” Shu Rui reminded as Lu Ling drove out of the alley.
“Understood,” Lu Ling answered.
The messenger hopped onto the cart, taking a short ride to pick up news. Seeing that the young man had kept his word and brought information, Lu Ling didn’t object.
Once they reached the main road, the messenger asked, “What’s your relationship with this young master?”
Lu Ling’s lips curved slightly. “We’re married.”
Judging from their ages, the messenger found it believable. Looking at Lu Ling’s calm, stern face, he commented like a soothsayer, “If your husband stands by your side, his looks may seem plain. If not plain, then perhaps…”
“Hey! Hey!”
Before he could finish, he felt a sharp tug at his collar and was lifted off the ground by Lu Ling. With a thud, he landed on the street.
“My words weren’t finished! I meant his looks are plain, but his skill and wit make you forget he isn’t handsome! I was praising him!”
Lu Ling cast a cold glance at him. “No praising allowed.”
With that, he drove the cart toward the wharf.
Rubbing his sore backside, the messenger muttered, “No matter what you say, it’s never right. So uptight—nobody’s stealing you.”
Shu Rui tidied the bowls, then went back to the morning market, hiring a cart to bring firewood to the inn. Despite collecting decayed wood and weeds from the inn over the past couple of days, it wasn’t enough.
Living in the city was bustling, yet procuring firewood and supplies was often more troublesome than in the countryside, costing him twenty-five coins.
He also purchased rice, flour, beans, and fresh vegetables. Durable rice and flour were bought in bulk—twenty to thirty pounds—which was convenient for city life. Smaller purchases weren’t economical; merchants preferred bulk sales to haggle prices.
Knowing the supplies were for regular consumption and future income, Shu Rui decided buying more at a better price was worthwhile, spending eight hundred coins in total.
He visited the East and South markets. The city was large, and without a cart, travel was inconvenient. The South and East markets offered cheaper goods, so he stuck to those. Though curious about the North and West markets, his legs were already sore and the time was late.
Seeing that Lu Ling hadn’t returned by noon, Shu Rui stayed in to cook rice, preparing to deliver a meal to the wharf.
He initially planned to make kelp soup. Though it hadn’t rained, the weather remained overcast and the rooftops were still damp, dripping occasionally. Feeling the chill, he opted for something warm.
Considering that the wharf was crowded with laborers, he switched plans: he took a round cabbage, sliced it, and cut a piece of smoked pork bought from the market.
This smoked pork, brought in by village women for cash, was carefully cleaned and dried. Its outer layer, blackened from smoking, was scrubbed meticulously, saving time later. While wealthier families avoided smoked pork for its preservation method, poorer households often enjoyed it.
Shu Rui appreciated the unique flavor of smoked pork, sometimes mixing it with wild onions to make buns in spring. Even steamed with rice and beans, it was delicious.
He quickly prepared the vegetables and sliced the pork thinly, filling a large ceramic bowl. The aroma of the salted, smoked meat and red lean meat was intoxicating. He made a mental note to buy more from the old woman next time.
After draining the rice into a steamer, Shu Rui placed it over the stove and began stir-frying the vegetables.
Next door, Mrs. Yang, Yang Chunhua, had spent the morning negotiating with a difficult customer, finally selling two bolts of cloth. Now it was almost noon, and she hurried to cook lunch, her mouth dry from talking, with no time to eat. Her eldest son would soon be home for his meal.
Since the afternoon break at the school was short and to save on outside meals, her son preferred to eat at home. She rushed, anxious to start the fire.
Suddenly, a delicious smell of vegetables and meat wafted in, accompanied by the clattering of a spatula in a pan, making her stomach grumble.
“Who’s cooking such a feast at noon?” she sniffed, following the aroma to the neighbor’s courtyard.
Yang Chunhua hurried to Shu Rui’s back gate, peeking inside. Shu Rui had already finished stir-frying.
“What are you cooking? It smells amazing!”
Hearing her, Shu Rui added water to the hot pan. “Just smoked pork stir-fried with cabbage. Lu Ling went to the wharf to move goods. I prepared it early to deliver to him.”
“Brother Lu is lucky! We’re just starting the fire ourselves, and this aroma is teasing me,” she said with a smile, not daring to linger. “I’ll come back when I have a chance this afternoon. My eldest hasn’t even finished cooking the rice yet.”
Shu Rui saw a young scholar dashing past the alley and remarked, “Your son Ah Xing is probably almost home—can he make it in time?”
“I’ve already cooked fresh rice and vegetables too. We can just add a bowl for Ah Xing to manage,” Shu Rui reassured.
“My rice is on the stove too, it won’t take long.”
Shu Rui followed her into the back room, seeing the pot still warming. “No need to be polite. Take a big bowl, I’ll add rice and vegetables for you.”
Yang Chunhua felt embarrassed but, seeing that time was short, reluctantly fetched a bowl.
Shu Rui added a generous portion of rice, topped with vegetables and smoked pork, and handed it over.
Just then, her eldest son, Song Xiangxue, arrived home, panting.
“Thank you, Brother Ashao, otherwise I’d be late again today.”
Yang Chunhua quickly helped her son wash, receiving the hot, generous bowl from Shu Rui. “My child, you can’t eat all of this!”
“You’re at that growing age. Hard work makes you hungry, and studying tires you out too,” Shu Rui said kindly. “I won’t stay and chat; I’d better take this hot meal to my brother while it’s fresh. The cart’s gone, and it’ll take some time to reach the wharf.”
“Go ahead,” she said.
Song Xiangxue, seeing that Shu Rui had brought the meal, politely thanked him as Shu Rui returned to the inn.
He approached the food, sniffing the steam. “It really smells good! I wondered how my mother managed to cook something so nice for me at noon.”
Mrs. Yang smiled. “If it smells good, just eat it.”
Song Xiangxue picked up his chopsticks and began eating. The cabbage was savory, crisp, and slightly sweet, coated with the richness of the smoked pork. Taken with a mouthful of rice, it went down perfectly.
It really was delicious. He grabbed another bowl to share half with Yang Chunhua.
She took a bite and nodded in approval. No wonder when they had helped Shu Rui tidy the shop earlier, Qing had praised his cooking skills—it was clearly not an exaggeration.
Still, worried her son wouldn’t have enough, she initially resisted sharing. The mother and son playfully argued a couple of times, but in the end, they ate together, enjoying the meal.