The night watchman's clapper faded into the distance, and he rubbed his rumbling stomach and smiled wryly. Suddenly, an oil-paper package was thrown from the second-floor window, landing at his feet. It turned out to be a shiny roast chicken. Looking up, he saw the window lattice swaying slightly, and the moonlight reflected half of a crimson sleeve.
Three days later, while carrying a heavy bag at the dock, Jiang Baichuan heard a storyteller at a tea stall tell the story of "The Second Young Master of the Yongding Marquisate Has Turned Over a New Leaf." He rubbed his blistered shoulders and suddenly grabbed the storyteller's wake-up stick, saying, "Let me tell you this story!"
On the seventh day, a torrential downpour hit. Jiang Songyi was checking the account book when he saw the doorman running towards him in a panic: "The second young master has fainted at the door!"
When Xu arrived, Jiang Baichuan was wrapped in his sister's brocade cape and drinking ginger soup. He pulled out a coarse cloth purse: "Fifteen cents, buy hair oil for Mom." He then pulled out a polished pebble: "A paperweight for Dad."
Finally, he took out half a piece of sugar cake wrapped in oil paper, his fingertips still stained with dock rust: "For my sister."
"It's so dirty." Jiang Songyi said with disdain, but wrapped the cake in a handkerchief. Turning around, he heard his brother choking with sobs: "The deed to the Treasure Pavilion."
"It burned a long time ago." She covered her upturned mouth with her round fan. "Now it's Xu's Restaurant."
Jiang Baichuan was kneeling on the bluestone slabs as the evening rain pounded against the glazed tiles of the mansion. Raindrops trickled down his chin and into his collar. He stared at the muddy spots on his sister's skirt and said, "My son will definitely mend his ways!"
Jiang Songyi took a step back, scorched by her brother's scorching gaze. Suddenly, the copper bells under the eaves jingled. She gathered her cloak, hearing her own thoughts clearly emanate through the rain.
[Could it be that the rain has damaged your brain? ]
Xu paused, twirling her Buddhist beads. Jiang Dinglian had already grabbed his son by the collar. The black iron wrist guard pierced Jiang Baichuan's neck, causing him to ache. He was flung out of the vermilion lacquer door like a sack. The sound of the bolt locking, mixed with thunder, made his eardrums buzz.
"One hundred and fifty thousand taels." Jiang Songyi stroked the dark patterns on the rosewood box. Raindrops seeped in through the window, casting dark spots on the banknotes. She heard footsteps from the shopkeeper Xu's in the front yard, and she deliberately bumped the box to make a crisp sound.
Xu's hand, trembling as she stared at the account book, smudged the words "Casino Redemption" with a cinnabar pen, leaving a blood-red stain. Jiang Dinglian leaned against an antique display case, polishing his sword. The cold gleam of the blade's edge reflected the trembling pearl hairpin in his daughter's hair.
"Buy a shop?" Jiang Dinglian suddenly lifted the wooden box with his scabbard. "It's enough to buy half of Zhuque Street."
"Restaurant." Jiang Songyi remained calm, "Business is booming, so the prices are naturally high." The copper bell on the eaves was suddenly torn off by the strong wind and hit the stone steps, sparks flying.
The casino owner's hands were shaking as he counted the money.
Xu slammed the account book shut, dust rising from the sheepskin cover. Jiang Dinglian suddenly laughed, tapping his daughter's shoulder with his sword sheath. "The Black Tiger Cavalry has half a month's supply of fodder, and you're asking them to teach your brother a lesson."
"Mother!" Jiang Songyi pushed the wooden box towards Xu, "Public is public, private is private."
"Your dowry was supposed to include property." Xu pushed open the wooden box, and the gilded armor scratched across the sandalwood texture, "The casino." Before she finished speaking, the wooden box fell into Jiang Dinglian's hands.
Jiang Songyi clenched her empty palms and listened to her father's confident words: "Husband and wife are of one mind, and your father will keep it for your mother." The black iron wristband jingled against the box, just like bandits robbing a bank.
[After Xia Miao's hunt, this scumbag father will go to the northern border to die.]
The sound of rain suddenly intensified, and the string of Xu's Buddhist beads snapped at her fingertips. The sandalwood beads rolled across the green bricks. Jiang Songyi leaned over to pick them up, and heard her mother softly ask, "Do you really need 150,000 taels?"
"Let's buy winter clothes for the Black Tiger Cavalry." She strung the beads back onto the gold thread. "The northern border is windy and frosty."
Jiang Dinglian's hand, stroking the wooden box, suddenly paused. The amulet wrapped around the sword tassel rustled—the one he'd exchanged for his daughter's first pearl flower the year she came of age. He suddenly felt the box weigh a thousand pounds, pressing down on the old wound beneath his wrist guard, causing a dull ache.
Xu signaled the maid to bring a camphorwood box containing 150,000 taels of silver neatly tied with red silk. "My Lord, please keep this for the soldiers."
"Madam, you are so generous." Jiang Dinglian took the box and brushed his fingertips against the back of her cold hand. "Wait until I return victorious."
"My Lord, please be careful with your words." Xu withdrew her hand and pressed her Buddhist beads heavily on the "casino" account. "Since Song Yi has bought that filthy place, let Qin Zhao and his men clean it out tomorrow."
As the drum beat through the rain, Jiang Songyi leaned against the carved window of Langhua Garden. The casino title deed crumpled to ash in the candlelight. She looked at her father practicing sword behind the rain and suddenly threw the ashes out the window.
"Miss, the second young master is still kneeling at the corner gate." Hongying held the ginger soup and was about to speak.
Jiang Songyi paused stirring the spoon, the silver spoon clanging against the edge of the bowl. "Send me a bowl of cold-repelling soup." After a pause, he added, "Don't put sugar in it."
Across the rain, Jiang Baichuan stared at the shredded ginger floating in the soup, and suddenly remembered when he was seven years old. His sister came to him with a broken candy jar, but he had dismissed her with the excuse, "Men don't eat sweets." The spiciness of the candy now sank into his throat, a third warmer than the malt sugar he had that day.
The next day, the sky cleared, and the largest gambling house on Zhuque Street hung a plaque reading "Xu's Teahouse." Jiang Songyi stood in a private room on the second floor, watching her father and the Black Tiger Cavalry escort the silver carriage out of the city. When Jiang Dinglian turned to look, she quickly lowered the bamboo curtain.
Xu pushed the new account book in front of her and said, "I will make up for the losses from converting the casino into a teahouse."
"No need." Jiang Songyi flipped open the account book and circled the item "Military Food Purchase" with a red pen. "This winter in the northern border is exceptionally cold."
Icicles beneath the eaves refracted sunlight, casting the words "Xu's Teahouse" on the wooden box Jiang Dinglian hadn't taken with him. When Jiang Baichuan entered, carrying his abacus, he saw his sister locking the deed into the box—a yellowed piece of candy wrapper resting on the bottom, containing half a piece of melted malt sugar.
…
The chirping of cicadas in late June ripped through the summer heat. The vermilion lacquer gate of the Marquis of Jingkang's mansion was draped with red silk. Mei Weixing rode his red horse through Zhuque Street, the jade belt buckle at his waist catching the sun's rays, dazzling the eyes. Behind him sat Peng Yuyan in a sedan chair carried by eight men. Beneath her gold-embroidered veil, her bride's smile stretched almost to her ears.
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