Chapter Eight: The Market
There squatted a silent old man, with a faded blue cloth spread out in front of him, on which a dozen or so wooden hairpins were scattered.
The designs are all very ordinary and outdated, nothing more than the same old patterns like auspicious clouds, ruyi (a type of scepter), and plum blossoms, and the carving is also a bit rough.
But one of them instantly caught Xiong Zixiang's eye.
The hairpin was also simple in design, with only a small, not very delicate plum blossom carved at the top.
What's attractive is the wood itself; its color is a common dark brown, but the wood grain naturally contains many fine, golden thread-like textures.
Under the occasional, faint sunlight filtering through in winter, those golden threads refracted a warm, understated golden light, scattered like specks of gold dust, revealing a touch of the extraordinary in their simplicity.
Xiong Zixiang unconsciously squatted down and picked up the hairpin.
It felt slightly heavy in his hand, and the wood was warm and smooth. He ran his fingertips along the hairpin, and could clearly feel the fine gold threads, as if touching the veins of some kind of life.
"Old man, how much is this hairpin?"
Xiong Zixiang asked, his voice unconsciously softening.
The old man raised his cloudy eyes to look at him, then glanced at the constable's badge hanging from his waist. His face was expressionless, and he stretched out two withered fingers, his voice hoarse.
"Two hundred coins."
Two hundred coins for a wooden hairpin is indeed a bit pricey.
The ordinary wooden hairpins on the stall cost only twenty or thirty coins each.
Xiong Zixiang did not immediately bargain.
He stroked the warm, smooth wood and the scattered gold threads, and the image of Zhang Xiaoli's thick, jet-black hair, always neatly tied into a bun at the back of her head, clearly appeared in his mind.
If you pay attention to using this hairpin...
Without much hesitation, he counted out two strings of one hundred copper coins strung together with hemp rope from the old leather money bag hanging at his waist, and then counted out twenty loose coins, totaling two hundred and twenty coins, and handed them to the old man.
The old man silently took the money, didn't count it, and put it in his pocket.
Then he picked up the hairpin, tore off a small piece of clean old blue cloth from the side, carefully wrapped it up, and handed it to Xiong Zixiang.
Throughout the entire process, the two did not exchange a single word.
Xiong Zixiang tucked the cloth bag into his arms, close to the spot where the red cloth that had been given away had once stood, where a trace of warmth still seemed to linger.
He stood up and continued walking home, his steps seeming a little lighter than when he came.
Back at my home in Zhuohe Village, as soon as I opened the courtyard gate, I heard a noise coming from the cellar entrance.
His father, Old Man Xiong, was struggling to climb up from the cellar entrance, carrying a heavy willow basket filled with walnuts.
When Old Man Xiong saw his son, a smile appeared on his face, and he greeted him.
"Xiangzi's back? Perfect timing! We dug out some walnuts from the cellar, harvested this fall, they're really firm! Come on, have a taste!"
As he spoke, he casually picked up a thick-shelled, hard-shelled walnut from the basket and skillfully cracked it against the door frame.
With a crisp "crack," the hard shell split open, revealing the plump, snow-white walnut kernel inside.
Xiong Zixiang walked over, took the few walnut kernels his father handed him, and popped them into his mouth.
The unique oily aroma of hickory nuts immediately fills the mouth, and they are crunchy to chew, with a hint of bitterness and a subtle sweetness, resulting in a rich and robust flavor.
"Hmm, not bad."
Xiong Zixiang swallowed the walnut, then took another one from the basket, squeezed it hard with his fingers, and cracked it open with a snap, his movements even more swift than Old Man Xiong's when he banged on the door.
As he ate his walnuts, he looked at his father, recalling the warm, smooth wooden hairpin in his pocket and the aroma of fried rice cakes wafting from the market. An idea formed in his mind. Tomorrow was his day off…
"father,"
He spoke, his voice a little lighter than usual, with a hint of negotiation in it.
I'm not working tomorrow.
Old Man Xiong looked up at him.
"Oh? That's perfect, stay home and rest. It's cold outside."
Xiong Zixiang paused for a moment, then said, "I...I plan to take Yanzhi to town for a stroll. It's almost Chinese New Year...we haven't bought the door gods we need to put up yet. Let's see what other New Year's goods she hasn't bought."
He added.
"While I'm at it, I'll take a walk too."
Upon hearing this, Old Man Xiong paused for a moment, then a knowing and gratified smile spread across his face, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes smoothed out.
"Oh, okay, okay, let's go, we should go. It's almost the end of the year, the town is bustling, we should take the girl there for a stroll and buy her some nice things."
He kept saying this, then grabbed a handful of walnuts and stuffed them into his son's hand. "Take more money, don't be stingy, buy what you need!"
Xiong Zixiang barely slept a wink all night, even though it was still pitch black.
He quietly got up, dressed neatly, carefully put his money bag away, and then smoothed his hair in front of the blurry reflection in the water vat before pushing open the cold courtyard gate.
He took a deep breath and strode towards the east end of Zhuohe Village.
The frozen dirt road beneath his feet creaked and groaned in the silence, like the pounding of his heart.
Zhang Family Courtyard.
As dawn broke, the courtyard gate was ajar.
He stopped and peered through the crack in the door. He saw Zhang Liuyi wrapped in a worn indigo cotton-padded coat and a matching headscarf, wielding a large bamboo broom and deftly sweeping away the thin frost in the yard.
She moved nimbly, her cheeks slightly red from the cold, but her eyes were clear and focused.
Xiong Zixiang's heart stirred slightly, and he raised his hand and gently knocked twice on the door.
"Tap, tap."
The sweeping stopped. Zhang Yili looked up and saw the tall, familiar figure at the door. A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, which quickly turned into a smile.
"Brother Xiong? So early?"
"Um."
Xiong Zixiang responded and pushed open the courtyard gate to come in, saying, "Sorry to bother you."
"Come in quickly, it's cold outside."
Zhang Liuyi put down the broom, dusted himself off, stepped aside to let him into the yard, and closed the gate behind him to keep out the cold air.
Without any hesitation, she led him directly to the main room: "It's warmer in the main room."
Xiong Zixiang followed her into the main room.
It was indeed much warmer inside than outside, with the embers in the stove emitting a faint warmth.
This was the first time he had formally stepped into the main hall of the Zhang family home.
The house is quite old, with a mud floor and some mottled walls, but it is kept exceptionally clean and tidy.
Several simple pottery pieces, polished to a shine, were displayed on a long table against the wall.
A square table, four long benches, and neatly stacked firewood in the corner.
Although simple, it exudes a warm atmosphere of diligence and hard work in managing the household.
"Brother Xiong, please have a seat."
Zhang Liuli gestured for him to sit down, then turned and walked to the stove.
She picked up a rough earthenware bowl, poured out more than half a bowl of steaming hot water from a clay pot warming on the stove, and then soaked some fried rice in it.
Then he took two softened frozen persimmons from a ceramic basin filled with warm water next to the stove, put them on a rough porcelain plate, and brought them to the table in front of Xiong Zixiang.
"We don't have any good tea at home, so let's have some roasted rice tea to warm ourselves up. These are the frozen persimmons you brought a few days ago. I've thawed them in warm water, and they're perfect to eat now, very sweet."
Looking at the steaming fried rice tea and the two soft, tempting frozen persimmons in front of him, Xiong Zixiang felt a warmth in his heart.
He picked up the bowl, not caring that it was hot, and gulped down the warm roasted rice tea in a few mouthfuls. A warm current instantly flowed from his throat to his stomach, dispelling the chill of the morning.
He put down the bowl, picked up a frozen persimmon, gently peeled off the thin black skin at the top to reveal the crystal-clear, orange-red flesh inside, and slurped it up. The cool, sweet juice mixed with the soft, chewy flesh slid into his mouth, the sweetness just right, carrying the fresh scent of the mountains and fields.
He finished the persimmon in just a few bites, even licking the juice off the skin.
"tasty."
He put down the persimmon stem, looked at Zhang Yili, and his gaze lingered for a moment on her slightly reddened face before he explained his purpose.
"Note that I... I have a day off tomorrow. Today... I'd like to go for a walk in town with you."
"The Lunar New Year is almost here, and my family... hasn't bought the door gods yet. What New Year's goods haven't you bought yet? Like... New Year pictures, red paper, new bowls and chopsticks? Or... would you like to add something?"
He tried hard to be thorough in his explanation, but he just couldn't remember anything when facing the person he loved.
Zhang listened intently, and his eyes lit up.
“Great! That’s exactly what I was going to do! We’re almost out of glutinous rice flour at home, so we need to buy some more to make New Year’s cakes. Also, my dad’s been saying he wants to buy some good ink to write Spring Festival couplets.”
Seeing her open, straightforward, and caring attitude towards family matters, Xiong Zixiang felt even more at ease.
He nodded: "Okay. Then... shall we go?"
He stood up, seemingly a little impatient.
"Okay! Wait a minute, I'll grab a basket!"
Zhang Yi tidied up the dishes on the table, turned around and took out a sturdy bamboo basket from behind the door, and then put an old money bag in his pocket.
The two left Zhang's courtyard one after the other and embarked on the village road leading to the town.
The cold wind was still biting, but the sky had brightened considerably.
The two walked side by side, with a distance between them that was neither too close nor too far. It was freezing cold, and neither of them spoke. The only sound was the crunching of their footsteps on the frozen ground.
Anping Town, at the town entrance.
As we approached the town gate, the number of people gradually increased.
There were farmers carrying loads into the city, and peddlers driving donkey carts.
"Giddy up! Giddy up! Make way! Make way now!" Several rude shouts rang out.
A procession of three ornately decorated carriages, accompanied by a group of men dressed as servants riding tall horses, sped toward the town gate.
The horses' hooves pounded the frozen pavement with a dull, thunderous sound, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Pedestrians on the road quickly moved to both sides to avoid the crowd.
Zhang Liuyi felt a sudden tightening on her left wrist. Xiong Zixiang grabbed her wrist and forcefully pulled her behind him, towards a safe place inside the town gate.
"Watch out!" A low, sharp warning rang in her ears.
The group of men roared past where they had just been standing.
Where the wheels rolled, mud was splashed up.
Everything happened so fast! Zhang Yi felt a burn on the spot where her wrist had been gripped.
The rough texture and burning heat of the man's palm remained.
Her heart was pounding, whether from fear or something else, she didn't know.
After confirming that she was safe, Xiong Zixiang quickly let go of her hand.
"This way." The man's deep voice sounded, with a hint of tension that was barely perceptible.
He lifted his foot, quickening his pace by two steps, and walked towards the town gate.
Zhang Liuyi quickly took a deep breath to suppress the pounding in his heart and hurried to catch up.
The bustling market is not far from the town gate.
Stalls selling New Year's goods lined up one after another, with bright red couplets and New Year pictures piled up like small mountains; live chickens and ducks flapped and squawked in their cages.
Xiong Zixiang paused slightly in his steps.
He turned to the side, subtly adjusting his position so that his broad shoulders and back shielded Zhang Yixin from the crowded and jostling people outside.
She quietly raised her left hand, her fingertips unconsciously brushing against the wrist he had just held, where a slight tingling sensation seemed to linger.
She pursed her lips and didn't say anything, but her steps became more steady.
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