Su Jinli burst out laughing at the words, and a vision of her mother in her youth suddenly surfaced before her eyes—perhaps she'd once worn a lilac dress, clutching maltose, singing songs about defending the weak in her clear, childish voice, a freshly picked gardenia pinned in her hair, her skirt still stained with dirt from the chase. She remembered her grandfather's words: when her mother got married, her dowry included a white handkerchief embroidered with gardenias. It had been hand-embroidered by her grandfather, every stitch painstakingly sewn. Now, the handkerchief lay hidden in her dressing box, its edges frayed.
As she spoke, a woman holding a child squeezed in. The salt bag she held was still leaking, and the white salt grains fell on her patched skirt like a tear of sorrow. "Thank you, young lady and young master!" The woman's eyes were red. Her rough fingers gently stroked Hu Wa's chapped lips, and she pushed the child forward, as if to pass on her gratitude. "If you hadn't sung that nursery rhyme, my Hu Wa would have had to eat bland porridge with us for the rest of his life. Last night he even cried and wanted to eat salted eggs."
"Yes, yes!" Uncle Wang, the tofu seller, followed behind and stuffed a piece of hot, tender tofu into Nianli's hands. The tofu was still steaming and had the delicate aroma of soybeans. "My blind mother has been clamoring for some salty tofu pudding for almost six months. Now I can finally fulfill her wish. I'll stew it for her soon and sprinkle it with chopped green onions and salt. I guarantee she'll eat half a bowl more."
More and more people gathered around. Some brought homemade pickled mustard greens. The lotus leaves on the jars were still covered with morning dew, and when they were opened, a rich, salty aroma emanated. Someone gave Si Yan a handful of fried peanuts, the shells stained with the unique cinnamon aroma of a roasted food shop, and each one was plump and round. There was also an old man who wove bamboo utensils and insisted on giving Nian Li a freshly woven katydid cage. A few fresh gardenias were wrapped around the cage, and dewdrops were dangling from the petals. Nian Li, holding her hands full of food, smiled brightly. The icing sugar touched the tip of her nose, like a crystal snowflake, and her eyes curved into crescents: "Look, mother! They are all praising me!"
Si Yan, however, solemnly accepted the peanuts, bowed to the people in a serious manner, and said like a little adult: "If any salt merchant dares to raise the price again in the future, I will help everyone to settle the accounts, calculate the cost of their salt hoarding and the wages they have withheld, and never let them make a single cent of dirty money!" He shook the abacus at his waist, and the beads collided with each other with a crisp sound, which was particularly pleasant to hear in the noisy crowd, as if they were keeping time for his words, or as if they were swearing an oath for future promises.
Watching the children surrounded and praised by the common people, Su Jinli felt a warmth welling up inside her, a warmth spreading from her heart to every part of her being. In her previous life, in the secluded confines of the prime minister's residence, she couldn't even see the moss growing in front of the courtyard gate. She never imagined that one day she would be surrounded by the people, their voices of gratitude pouring over her like a warm current. In this life, she not only protected her family, but also helped others with her wisdom and courage. This sense of being needed brought her peace of mind, more than any jewel or jade, as if she had finally found the weight of her existence.
Uncle Hu looked at this heartwarming scene, stroked his beard and said with a smile: "Where are you and your family planning to go next?" There was a glint of anticipation in his eyes, as if he had already prepared the scenery of the next stop.
Su Jinli looked at Jiang Yan. His eyes reflected the rising morning light, and he wore a doting smile, as if he had hidden the tenderness of the entire Jiangnan region in his eyes. "Grandfather mentioned the embroidery workshop in Suzhou in his letter. He said that the brocade there can weave flowing water patterns, and the silk threads will shimmer like spring water under the light. I want to go and see it."
"I want to go to Suzhou!" Nian Li immediately raised her hand. The malt sugar at the corner of her mouth stuck to her hair, but she didn't care. "I want to watch the embroiderer embroider a flower nest for the 'sugar painting' little bird. I want to embroider it with gardenias and the nursery rhymes I sing!"
Si Yan nodded vigorously, her abacus ticking away in her palm. The clatter of beads was like spring rain falling on lotus leaves. "I need to calculate the cost of silk thread for the embroidery workshop. Shipping raw silk from Hangzhou to Suzhou via the canal will cost 30% more. If it's the rainy season, there's another 10% for moisture-proofing. There's also the hematite, gardenia, and indigo used for dyeing. The cost of each dye must be calculated clearly. Oh, and the embroiderer's wages..."
Uncle Hu roared with laughter, his goatee sticking up high as if ready to fly, his face wrinkled with smiles. "Very well! I'll go to the canal wharf and get you a speedboat. I'll also bring samples of embroidery thread from Suzhou's Jinxiu Pavilion, so you can see as much as you want. The gold thread there is twisted from real gold foil, so dazzling in the sun." He pulled an oil-paper bag from his sleeve. Inside was a neatly folded boat ticket and a travel permit. Tucked between the pages was a dried gardenia petal, faded but still retaining a faint fragrance. "By the way, send a letter to Master Lin saying you're safe and sound in Yangzhou. Let him know that Madam is eating well and sleeping soundly, and has done something very pleasing for the people. I've kept Hu Wanguan's account books for him, so I'll make sure Master Lin has a good time reading them."
The sun gradually rose higher, its golden light shone on the eaves of the Hu family salt warehouse. The copper bells, once clogged by salt vapor, finally tinkled, as if to bring this farce to an end, or to play the prelude to the next journey. The common people carrying salt bags gradually dispersed, their laughter rolling like pearls on the bluestone slabs, shattering in the salt pile in the corner, startling a few sparrows foraging for food, and fluttering into the blue sky. Su Jinli watched Nianli leaping and chasing butterflies, her small skirt sweeping across the salt grains on the roadside, startling a fine burst of white light; Siyan squatted on the ground, using a branch to draw abacus patterns on the stone slabs, mumbling to himself, the shadows of the beads dancing on his little face; Jiang Yan smiled and sorted out the road pass, the sleeves of her moon-white gown blown by the wind, revealing the gardenia pattern she had embroidered herself, the pattern seemed to sway gently in the wind. At this moment, the wind in Yangzhou seems to carry a sweet taste, which is the taste of sweetness after suffering, the sweetness of justice being upheld, and the warmth of family reunion.
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