Chapter 17, Part 1

Upon arriving at Changqing Street, Aman and Mantou split up. Mantou went to buy roof tiles with Uncle Zhu, while Aman wandered around the nearby market to buy some kitchen necessities. The two agreed to meet at the archway on Changqing Street in an hour.

Changqing Street is not located in the most bustling area of ​​Yongzhou. The surrounding buildings are quite old and look like they've been around for a long time. Mantou said that the vendors in this area are mostly small-scale merchants, and the quality of their goods is not very high, but the prices are also not very expensive, so there are quite a few people coming and going.

Aman had a clear goal; her first stop was the general store, where she bought some commonly used cooking seasonings. Yongzhou was different from a county town; apart from the government-controlled salt, which had a fixed price, the other seasonings were all a bit more expensive. But fortunately, they were all within her budget.

After buying the seasonings, Aman went to the rice and flour shop to buy some flour.

The young master likes to eat noodles, and so does the old lady, so Ah Man's noodle-making skills are not bad.

The flour in the rice and noodle shops comes in two types: white flour, also known as refined flour, which has a finer texture, a whiter color, and a smoother, chewier texture. The other type is black flour, which, as the name suggests, is not only darker in color than refined flour, but also has a very coarse texture, and some of the worse ones can even be harsh on the throat.

Aman checked the prices: a bushel of black-faced noodles cost only thirty coins, while fine-faced noodles cost fifty coins.

It cost almost twice as much.

Aman didn't know the price of rice and flour. In the past, her family bought their food from villagers, and her grandmother usually took care of it, so Aman didn't interfere.

I visited two other rice and noodle shops on the street, and the prices were almost the same.

After thinking for a moment, Aman decided to buy half a bushel each of dark flour and refined flour. The young master was used to the white flour steamed buns from the Marquis's mansion, so he would definitely find it hard to swallow if he switched to dark flour. However, if he bought all the refined flour, with three mouths to feed, the bushel of flour would be used to make both steamed buns and noodles, and it would be gone in no time.

At worst, she and Mantou will eat black flour while the young master eats white flour.

The waiter was quick and efficient, and soon he had it packed for Aman. Aman paid forty coins, and seeing that a hundred coins had just disappeared, he couldn't help but feel a pang of heartache.

"Is there anything else you'd like, young lady?" the waiter asked enthusiastically. Aman's attire clearly indicated she was a maid from a wealthy family, so even though she hadn't bought much, the waiter still had to fawn over her.

Even though Aman shook her head, the waiter wasn't annoyed. He smiled and saw Aman out, saying, "Then come often in the future."

Aman carried the flour out the door, only to realize that the nearly ten-pound load was a bit heavy; she was afraid she'd be exhausted carrying it around the market. She could have left it at the rice and flour shop, but since she was already out, she felt a little embarrassed to go back.

Just as Aman was wondering what to do, she suddenly heard someone calling her name. Aman looked up and saw Mantou happily coming towards her.

"Why are you here so soon? Is your business over there finished? Where's Uncle Zhu?" Aman asked as she approached.

"It's over. Uncle Zhu took me straight to the brick kiln. He's friends with the kiln owner. After the kiln owner learned that we didn't have any specific requirements for repairing the roof, he sold us a batch of dented tiles at a low price. It was at least fifty coins cheaper." Mantou took the bag of flour from her hand.

"It's so much cheaper, could there be some problems?" Aman was a little cautious. These days, you get what you pay for.

“No problem, I’ve checked everything carefully. Besides, Uncle Zhu is a trustworthy person. The kiln owner was willing to help us deliver the bricks back, so Uncle Zhu went back with us. I thought this wasn’t over yet, so I came to find you.”

Hearing him say that, Aman was relieved and nodded. "I'm almost done here. I'll just go buy some more vegetables and get a rolling pin."

The farmers' market on Changqing Street is held every other day, and today happens to be market day. Unlike the clean and tidy market, the farmers' market can be summed up in one word: "chaotic".

The market, which stretched as far as the eye could see, was filled with vendors selling meat, farm tools, chickens, and monkeys, as well as a dazzling array of trinkets. The sounds of children crying, livestock bellowing, and vendors shouting mingled together, creating a noisy yet strangely familiar atmosphere for Aman.

It was as if the old woman would squeeze out of the crowd at any moment, chattering incessantly about not running around, while magically producing a string of bright red, juicy candied hawthorns for her.

"Come on, what are you daydreaming about?" Mantou took a couple of steps before realizing that Aman hadn't followed. Turning around, she saw Aman staring blankly at the crowd, seemingly lost in thought.

"What's wrong? Are you scared by this?"

“No,” Aman said, shaking her head as she came to her senses. “It just feels quite familiar.”

Aman was unfamiliar with Yongzhou and felt no sense of belonging there. It was true that she wanted to stay, but it was also true that she felt uncomfortable.

This sense of unease stems not only from the monotonous life in Wutongyuan, but also from the quietness of the city and the unfamiliarity and indifference among neighbors.

Aman loves the sounds of roosters crowing, dogs barking, butterflies fluttering, and bees dancing in the countryside, and he also loves the warmth and intimacy between neighbors in the village.

Even if she doesn't want to listen to what some people say or like what they do.

She struck up a conversation with Aunt Zhu not only because of the other woman's inquiry, but more so because of the familiar, forthright manner she exuded.

Seeing the confusion in Mantou's eyes, Aman didn't say anything more, just smiled and said, "Let's go!"

The two strolled around the market for a while, and Aman bought a half-grown hen for thirty coins. The stall owner also had chicks for sale, saying that he was willing to sell them to Aman for two coins each because she looked kind.

Compared to other chicken stalls along the way, this stall owner's chicks were indeed quite good. Although they were about the same size, their legs looked exceptionally thick. The old lady said that such chickens were easy to raise and would grow fat easily.

Aman looked at it again and again, very tempted, and looked up at the steamed bun.

The young master said that she and Mantou would have full authority to make decisions regarding the money.

When Mantou met Aman's hopeful gaze, she shook her head cruelly, "No, there's no place to keep it at home, and there's no food for it."

That one sentence shattered Aman's dream of raising chickens. The location wasn't a problem; the backyard was big enough, he could easily carve out a small patch. But what about food...?

People are struggling to find food, let alone chickens.

In the end, Aman could only leave with great reluctance.

As they walked further in, they found themselves surrounded by people buying vegetables. It wasn't hot yet, and the crops in the fields hadn't sprouted, so the farmers weren't selling fresh vegetables; they were selling last year's radishes, potatoes, and the like, many of which had already sprouted.

Looking at the wilted radishes and potatoes, Aman tried to stand out from the crowd and looked for one that wasn't so wrinkled.

Looking around, she was drawn to a patch of green at a stall not far away.

It turned out to be fresh bok choy.

Aman was immediately delighted. If he bought some of these to use in chicken noodle soup, he wondered how delicious it would be.

The cabbage stall owner was a middle-aged man, tall and thin, standing there straight, neither shouting nor soliciting customers. His slanted eyes looked around, giving off a fierce and menacing feeling.

Perhaps because of his temperament, there wasn't a single customer at his only vegetable stall.

Aman, unsuspecting, darted over like a gust of wind, pointed at the bok choy, and asked crisply, "How much is this bok choy?"

"Five coins." The man's tone was curt. He recognized that the clothes Aman was wearing belonged to a maid, and a flash of disdain quickly crossed his eyes, but it was gone in an instant, so fast that Aman didn't even notice.

Aman picked up the vegetables on the stall and examined them closely. He then discovered that the cabbages seemed to have been frozen. Some of the leaves were black and curled at the edges, and they were very small and thin. Some only had leaves and no roots. They looked like they were unwanted by others and that he had picked them up.

This quality is definitely not worth five coins, especially since five coins could buy two meat buns.

"These vegetables aren't fresh anymore, the leaves are wilted, can you make it cheaper?" Adhering to the principle of always bargaining when buying things, Aman thought that if she could get a discount, she could still buy some.

It's unclear what she said that offended the man, but he snatched the vegetables from her hand and threw them on the table. "You think five coins is too expensive? Buy them if you want, otherwise get out of here. Stop nagging."

"Hey, what kind of attitude is that?" Before Aman could speak, Mantou couldn't stand it anymore and stepped forward to shield Aman behind him. "What, you're a seller, and you don't allow people to ask questions?"

"Ask, ask, ask, can you afford it? It's a thing for serving people."

"You!" The man retorted sharply, completely enraging Mantou. She was about to step forward to argue with him when Aman grabbed her arm. "Never mind, never mind."

Aman tugged at his sleeve and forcefully pulled the steamed bun away from the stall. "Forget it, it's not worth arguing with him."

"What kind of attitude is that?" Mantou was a little indignant. What's wrong with serving others? Back when the young master was at the height of his fame, he was the one who was fawned over, and people were begging him.

Besides, why is he attacking someone's identity instead of properly selling vegetables? With such a foul mouth, no wonder there's no one at his stall.

"Alright, there's no need to get angry with that kind of person." Compared to Mantou's furious outburst, Aman was quite calm, seemingly unaffected by the man at all. "Let him say what he wants, it won't hurt him. Don't cause trouble for the young master."

Seeing that Mantou was still indignant, Aman had no choice but to divert his attention, "Hey, there seems to be a tofu stall over there, let's go take a look."

As she spoke, Aman grabbed Mantou's sleeve and forcefully dragged him away.

"Young lady, would you like some tofu? It's all made from freshly harvested soybeans today, very fresh." Aman stopped in front of the stall, and the stall owner lifted the bamboo curtain and enthusiastically introduced the tofu to her.

Aman glanced down at the tofu; it was white and tender, and did look quite good. "How much is this piece?"

"Three coins a piece." The stall owner was honest; this piece of tofu weighed two pounds, so three coins was really not expensive.

"Have a piece." Aman looked up at the steamed bun and saw that he still had a dark face.

The tofu stall owner had witnessed what had just happened. Seeing that he was still holding a grudge, he couldn't help but say, "Hey, there's no need to take it seriously. That's just how that person is. In business, how can you not let others bargain? But he's the opposite; he starts cursing whenever someone picks and chooses."

The aunt next to her chimed in, "That's right. They dare to sell rotten vegetable leaves bought cheaply from the flower shop in the city for five coins. Rich people think they don't look good, and we think they're too expensive. This morning, we haven't sold a single vegetable leaf. They're obsessed with money, they deserve it."

Aman didn't respond. The tofu vendor packed the tofu and then took out a few scallion sprouts from a bag and handed them to Aman. "Here, take these. Use them to flavor the tofu before frying it for a different taste."

"Thank you," Aman said, taking the scallion sprouts. Seeing the reddish roots, he knew they were from a large scallion. These things do smell really good when stir-fried.

The auntie next to him who was also selling vegetables picked up some potatoes and radishes.

The stall owner weighed it very high, not haggling at all. "We usually buy our vegetables here. If you need anything, just come here."

A note from the author:

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