A few days later, before dawn, fine rain tapped on the roof. Not heavy, but the air was noticeably colder.
Outside, darkness and mist blurred the lanterns along the street.
Master Lu, wrapped in a thick cloak with an umbrella tucked under his arm, shivered against the wind as he stepped out. He guessed the coastal mansion was colder than his hometown; winter was coming, maybe even snow.
He shoved his hands into his sleeves but still had to hold the umbrella. Sighing, he opened the main door, and a cold gust stiffened his legs.
Soon, he was near the official offices when he noticed a vehicle in a dark alley. A donkey cart stood at his door. Peering inside, he wondered if Madam Liu had arranged it—why hadn’t she told him?
Before he could ask, a voice called from the cart: “Not leaving yet? Did the office delay your start?”
It was Lu Ling. Skeptical, Master Lu went over and saw him sitting in front of the donkey cart, wearing a straw hat and raincoat. He didn’t know how long he’d been waiting.
“Why are you out here in this cold? Why not go inside?”
“I just arrived. Too lazy to go in.”
Lu Ling pulled the donkey, urging him, “Hurry inside. I still need to check the inn later.”
Master Lu glanced at the cart. It looked new, apparently made recently. He said nothing and climbed in.
Sitting inside the covered, windowed cart was warmer than the house. He set the umbrella aside and asked, “The inn has a new cart?”
“Yes. Shu Rui had it made for your work trips.”
Master Lu, hearing this, instinctively reached out to touch the covered cart, his heart warming. He had long intended to acquire a proper set of vehicles, and this, he thought, came right to the point. Rarely moved to say something pleasing, he murmured: “He really thinks things through. But your inn hasn’t been open long, and you haven’t earned much yet. Next time, don’t spend so freely.”
After all, money is earned to be used. If earning it doesn’t make life more comfortable and convenient, then what’s the purpose of making it?
Lu Ling said nothing in response.
Seeing his silence, Master Lu continued, “Are you really not going back to the martial hall?”
“Yes,” Lu Ling replied.
In recent days, Master Lu hadn’t seen much of Lu Ling. Both had their respective duties; after finishing work, each stayed under their own roof. Unlike Madam Liu, who could occasionally visit the inn, Lu Ling rarely came. He knew Lu Ling returned to the inn after work and remained busy.
“Then it’s good,” he continued. “A few days ago, I heard your mother complain that Shao was overworked and ill. Now, you’re at the inn, watching over things—both of you can look after each other better.”
In the past, Master Lu had considered scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants, ranking commerce low. He had some objections to Lu Ling leaving the martial hall, but after Lu Yu persuaded him, he realized it wasn’t bad for the male members of the family to pursue different paths.
The Lu family had no established fortune; to survive steadily, money had to circulate.
He had thought Er Lang’s interest in trade was motivated by greed, but a few days ago, he attended a birthday celebration with gifts and observed how colleagues presented theirs. Most brought precious items: fine brushes, ink, or rare collectibles.
His originally planned tea set, worth over one guàn, seemed inadequate in comparison. Though he disliked flattery and extravagant gifts, he couldn’t appear too cheap. So, he reluctantly added two more guàn to get a finer tea set. Madam Liu even commented that in official circles, he already knew how to compare gifts.
Fortunately, after inquiring and upgrading the set, when the gift register announced the presents at the door, it revealed the higher value—he would have been embarrassed otherwise.
Madam Liu, attending with him, quietly sighed at the spectacle.
Inside, men and women were seated separately. Madam Liu went to the female guests. Unfamiliar with official circles and being new to the city, she knew few people. After greeting the wife of the magistrate, she quietly found a spot to sit, observing the well-dressed women chatting about their leisure activities.
She had chosen her finest clothes, but even so, in this company, she felt inadequate. Fortunately, the embroidery was her own handiwork, exceptional and rare, attracting compliments. She modestly claimed it had been made back home.
After the banquet, the couple felt slightly heavy-hearted. Madam Liu found such formal occasions taxing: full of rules, comparisons, and the pressure to avoid looking shabby. She preferred staying home and embroidering in peace, though she understood appearances were unavoidable.
For this birthday gift, a modest sum of three to five guàn sufficed—middle-range among lavish gifts.
Before they could relax, two more invitations arrived: one from the local registrar for a hundred-day celebration, which they had to attend, and another for a marriage next month.
Looking at these invitations, they worried. Their modest monthly stipend couldn’t cover the two events, let alone provide suitable attire. In social life, one could not avoid interaction; to cultivate relationships, one had to participate in these formalities.
Both Master Lu and Madam Liu fretted over expenses. With the cold autumn weather, no cart to travel in darkness, and limited funds, they feared being unable to keep up. The reality of daily life had softened Master Lu’s pride—he understood the necessity of money.
Lu Ling, aware of his father’s temperament, refrained from lecturing about his resignation and even praised him, likely influenced by Lu Yu’s advice. Life in officialdom required more prudence and careful spending.
“I’ll help cover household expenses—just let me know,” Lu Ling said.
This struck a chord with Master Lu, though he felt embarrassed discussing such matters. Neither Lu Ling nor Shao were married yet; to accept parental support made them feel shy enough, without asking for more.
Since becoming a couple, Lu Ling’s demeanor had grown more mature.
Master Lu continued: “Your brother and I sent letters back home to check old connections, inquiring about the Bai family. We’ve also kept an eye on Bai Dalang. As a merchant-appointed official, he likely has weaknesses; if we can find them, things will be easier. If the elders are cooperative, matters can proceed smoothly; otherwise, we’ll need alternate approaches.
“Don’t worry, Lu Ling and Shao—your matters at home haven’t been neglected.”
The Bai family’s elders had managed prior events, so they wouldn’t let Shu Rui succeed easily. Ultimately, the key was Bai Dalang. One must understand his weak points before approaching the Bai household.
Hearing this, Lu Ling gained some understanding of the family’s plan.
By the time they arrived at the government office, Master Lu, for once, appeared presentable despite the rainy day, stepping inside with dry shoes.
Lu Ling turned the reins and headed back.
Meanwhile, at the inn, Shu Rui taught Third Sister the basics of knife skills.
“Cooking starts with knife work. Good knife skills make dishes look better and taste better. You must master straight cuts, roll cuts, and push-pull cuts. Then you can cut cubes, shreds, strips, slices, or minces properly,” Shu Rui explained.
Third Sister had spent a few days at the inn, accompanying Shu Rui on market trips, helping clean and prepare vegetables, and familiarizing herself with the routine. Today, she had time, so Shu Rui began teaching fundamental skills.
Though young, most girls of her age knew basic cooking at home. But precision, skill, and refinement were different matters—moving beyond ordinary household cooking to truly skilled cooking was a long path.
Her enthusiasm was high, and she arrived early each day. But true perseverance would only show if she remained diligent when the novelty wore off.
Shu Rui handed her a chef’s knife: “This will be yours. Practice slicing radishes every day.”
“Yes,” she replied, taking the knife and beginning to slice radishes at the counter.
Qing, tidying the second floor, peeked out, reassured by her diligence, and returned to sweeping.
“Look how earnest Third Sister is,” he said.
Yang Chunhua, having some free time, wandered into Shu Rui’s courtyard. The inn had become lively, and she often came to chat.
With a junior apprentice, Shu Rui found things easier. Qing handled cleaning, Lu Ling oversaw the inn, and Shu Rui focused on the kitchen.
Third Sister’s help in food prep added extra hands, speeding work, especially during the busy two-hour midday and evening shifts. Recently, Shu Rui had increased the number of dishes and occasionally added new ones.
Hearing Yang Chunhua’s comment, Shu Rui glanced at Third Sister and smiled.
Yang Chunhua pulled Shu Rui aside: “Are you still taking apprentices?”
Shu Rui looked at her, smiling: “Yes. I plan to take two or three, but suitable apprentices are hard to find. Why? Do you have someone to recommend?”
“You’re clever. My young uncle’s house has a boy, not very old, around ten. His tongue is sharp; he can taste a dish and name every ingredient used.”
Yang Chunhua explained: “My uncle believes the boy has a natural talent for cooking and wants him to find a master. He might succeed in the future. I was asked to keep an eye out.”
Shu Rui chuckled. “What luck! With your skill and me taking apprentices, it seems fate!”
Having read about prodigious children before, Shu Rui never imagined meeting one. He was pleased to have a talented apprentice but noted: “I require a signed contract. His family may not be wealthy; they might object.”
Yang Chunhua explained the boy’s background: his family had little means, previously squandered dowries, and now relied on relatives to get by. She said, “I’m only concerned he learns a craft early, so he won’t follow his father’s failed path. I won’t fuss over his background.”
Shu Rui smiled: “I’m already planning to take apprentices. Anyone willing and suitable can start learning. After a few months, we’ll decide. I told Qing the same thing.”
“Alright, I’ll go ask my young uncle.”