Taking the bundle from the maid, Ban Qin hurriedly expressed her thanks.
“Because of the Zen Tea Ceremony, some relatives have come to the house, and Shi’ba-niang has to entertain guests, so she won’t be able to go out these days. She specially asked me to inform you,” the maid said. “Madam knows that you are also going, and since the ladies of the house are having new clothes made, she had one made for Lady Cheng as well.”
“Thank Madam for remembering us,” Ban Qin thanked her again.
“Then, sister, please go inside quickly. I must return now. On that day, a carriage will come to pick you up,” the maid said.
The two ladies bowed and bid each other farewell. Watching the carriage depart, Ban Qin then turned and entered the house.
“Who is it?” Xu Maoxiu asked, standing under the corridor.
Ban Qin explained the situation, and Xu Maoxiu nodded.
The courtyard gate was knocked on again.
“Did they forget something?” Ban Qin said, hurrying to open the door, only to be taken aback.
A strange man stood outside the door. Seeing Ban Qin, he smiled and walked in.
“It’s been a long time since I last came. This house is really hard to find, I almost forgot,” he said as he walked in.
Startled, Ban Qin quickly closed the door to block him.
“Who are you looking for?” she asked.
Xu Maoxiu also stepped over with a serious expression.
The man seemed equally startled.
“Isn’t this the Chen family?” he asked, taking a few steps back to look up at the door plaque.
The door plaque was blank, with no characters.
“This is not the Chen family,” Ban Qin hurriedly explained. “This is the Cheng family.”
The man let out an “Ah,” his face filled with confusion, and he peered inside again.
Xu Maoxiu had already walked over.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
Ban Qin quickly turned around.
“Sir, someone is looking for the Chen family,” she said.
Seeing Xu Maoxiu, the man outside the door took another two steps back.
“This is not the Chen family. This is the Cheng family. You’ve made a mistake. Go and ask around again,” Xu Maoxiu said, looking at him.
The man scrutinized Xu Maoxiu and let out an “Oh.”
“So I remembered wrong,” he said, with a hint of apology, and quickly bowed.
Xu Maoxiu nodded, and the man walked away, glancing left and right, muttering to himself, and then went to knock on the neighboring door.
“Looking for someone without asking clearly. How can one just ask like that?” Ban Qin said.
Xu Maoxiu nodded, and the two of them turned their gaze away and closed the door. It was only then that the man who had asked for directions looked back again. He straightened his slightly hunched posture, and the anxious, uneasy expression of an outsider faded from his face. Frowning slightly, he turned and strode away.
Naturally, Xu Maoxiu and Ban Qin inside the gate were unaware of this.
The maid opened the door from inside the house.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Nothing, someone was looking for someone,” Xu Maoxiu said. “Is my sister awake?”
The maid nodded, and behind her, Cheng Jiao-niang was already sitting in the hall.
“The manager plans to carve tofu,” Xu Maoxiu said.
“Carve?” Cheng Jiao-niang replied. “I’m afraid it won’t be easy to carve.”
Xu Maoxiu nodded.
“Indeed,” he said, smiling. “Right now, Sun Cai is making tofu day and night, and Li Dashao and… Ban Qin are also trying non-stop.”
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded.
“It’s not easy to do,” she said. “I don’t know if it can be done. We only have four or five days.”
“Li Dashao’s knife skills are quite good, but he’s never worked with something this soft before, so he’s a bit unfamiliar with it,” Xu Maoxiu explained.
Cheng Jiao-niang pondered for a moment.
“Remember to carve it while it’s in water,” she said.
In water?
Xu Maoxiu let out an “Oh” and nodded.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he replied.
Cheng Jiao-niang fell into thought again, and Xu Maoxiu, knowing she was contemplating something, did not disturb her. The room was quiet, with only the rhythmic sound of the bamboo water pipe striking the stone outside.
“Ban Qin,” Cheng Jiao-niang suddenly called out, “take notes.”
The maid quickly responded and knelt beside the desk with brushes, ink, paper, and an inkstone.
“Mushroom soup,” Cheng Jiao-niang said. “Add daylily flowers, wood ear fungus, shredded bamboo shoots, and shredded mushrooms…”
The maid lowered her head and began writing swiftly.
In the imperial palace, the Empress Dowager looked at the three people sitting on the floor before her.
“Well, have you finished writing from memory?” she asked. “It’s already been the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.”
The First Prince put down his brush.
“I have finished,” he said.
The Empress Dowager was pleased and had someone bring it over. She saw that the writing was neat and done in one go.
“First Prince has written well,” she said, then turned to look at the other two, her face stern. “And what about you?”
The Duke of Jin’an also put down his brush with a smile.
“I have finished too,” he said.
The eunuch hurried to present it. The Empress Dowager glanced at it, and her expression hardened even more. The writing on the paper was scrawled, and only half of it was completed.
“Have you not already studied the Gongyang Commentary? The Emperor’s punishment for you was to memorize it for three days. How is it that now you can’t even write half a chapter of it?” she said.
The Duke of Jin’an chuckled.
“The teacher said it would take a year to learn well. It’s only been half a year. Give me another half a year, and I will surely have it memorized,” he replied.
Beside him, the First Prince’s face showed a hint of mockery. He curled his lip in disdain, raised his chin slightly, and straightened his posture.
“I’ve finished too!” the Second Prince exclaimed, hastily putting down his brush and holding up his paper as he wobbled over.
“Ah, you have written well,” the Empress Dowager praised, looking at the two large characters on the paper.
“It’s because Brother Wei taught me well,” the Second Prince said, tugging at the Empress Dowager’s sleeve.
The Empress Dowager smiled faintly, then glared at the still-smirking Duke of Jin’an.
“Look at you, even needing a child to help you out of trouble,” she scolded in a low voice. “Go back and study your books properly. All you do day after day is fool around. What will you ever achieve?”
“Yes,” the Duke of Jin’an replied with a smile.
The Empress Dowager shook her head.
“Alright, you may all leave now,” she said.
The three of them quickly straightened up, bowed respectfully, and took their leave.
As they stepped out of the palace hall, the Second Prince held the Duke of Jin’an’s hand with one hand and reached for First Prince with the other.
“Brother, let’s go play willow shooting!” he said loudly.
“I still have books to read,” the First Prince replied, brushing off the Second Prince’s hand with a hint of aloofness.
The Second Prince looked embarrassed.
“We’ll go, we’ll go,” the Duke of Jin’an quickly said.
“Duke Jin’an, the Second Prince is still young and lacks diligence. Please don’t lead him astray,” the First Prince said.
These words were harsh, causing the attendants present to visibly tense. Yet none dared to speak, instead lowering their heads, pretending not to hear.
The Duke of Jin’an, however, remained all smiles.
“Yes, yes,” he said. “I should be more diligent indeed.”
“Let’s go study,” the First Prince said, looking down at the Second Prince with a hint of superiority.
The Second Prince pouted and gave him a shove.
“I’m not going with you,” he said before turning on his heels and dashing away.
The attendants, flustered and uneasy, hurried after him.
The First Prince was irritated but couldn’t stoop to arguing with a child. Turning his head, he caught sight of the still-smiling Duke of Jin’an.
“Useless,” he snorted, flicking his sleeves before striding off.
The attendants followed in a flurry, leaving only the Duke of Jin’an behind.
The Duke of Jin’an watched the two figures disappear into the distance before slowly turning to walk away.
“In contention, a gentleman he is—how could he not know?
Raising his hand, one says: ‘This man is the royal heir, the esteemed younger brother of my sovereign.’
Lowering his hand, one says: ‘This man is but Chuan Fengxu, a mere magistrate of a county beyond Fang City.’
Who shall claim him? The captive replies: ‘Aid meets resistance—frail indeed.’”
A low murmuring accompanied his footsteps, reciting the words verse by verse.
On the side of another path, an elderly, plump eunuch couldn’t help but stop in his tracks.
“Zuo Zhuan?”* he muttered under his breath, glancing up to see the tall, upright figure of a young man walking away in the distance.
“What is it?” the young eunuch beside him asked hurriedly. “Where do we turn left to?”*
“Turn left, my foot! You don’t read, so you understand nothing!” the plump eunuch scolded, glaring at him.
The young eunuch, chastised, only grinned and ducked his head.
“Grandpa, unlike you, I haven’t read much—I’ll never be able to serve His Majesty so well,” he said.
The plump eunuch let out a snort before glancing again at the fading figure in the distance.
“The First Prince is only just beginning to study the Rites of Zhou, and the Duke of Jin’an isn’t even scheduled to learn Zuo Zhuan until next year. And yet, he’s already reciting the passage about Bo Zhouli questioning the captive?” he muttered to himself. Then, shaking his head, he chuckled. “‘Raising and lowering the hand, raising and lowering the hand’—isn’t that exactly how everyone in this palace survives?”*
“Grandpa, what does ‘raising and lowering the hand’ mean?” the young eunuch asked hesitantly.
“It’s nonsense!” the plump eunuch snapped, glaring at him before giving him a kick. “Hurry up and move! Don’t ask what you shouldn’t—clearly, you’ve got too much time on your hands.”
The young eunuch quickly scurried ahead to lead the way, and the two soon disappeared into the distance.
In a side hall, the Duke of Jin’an sat cross-legged, a scroll placed before him. Though the book remained unopened, his eyes were lowered as he softly recited its contents, continuing for a long time without pause—until voices sounded from outside.
“Your Highness, the man has returned,” came the voice of an attendant.
The Duke of Jin’an rose and stepped out. The door to the room had already been pushed open, and a guard had entered and taken a seat. His appearance matched that of the man who had mistakenly entered the wrong house—the residence of Cheng Jiao-niang near Yudai Bridge.
“Well?” the Duke of Jin’an asked.
“Not a member of the Chen family,” the guard reported. “His surname is Cheng. A man, about twenty-six or twenty-seven years old, with a northwestern accent. A maid opened the door, but aside from her, no one else was seen.”
So it wasn’t… Though he hadn’t held much hope for this inquiry to begin with.
The Duke of Jin’an nodded and waved his hand.
“It seems I’ll have to ask Minister Chen directly,” he said with a smile.
“Your Highness, you must not,” the guard hurriedly advised.
The Duke of Jin’an smiled.
“Yes, I know,” he replied. “I’m not in a hurry. I’ll think of another way. There’s always a way. There’s a solution to everything.”
The last sentence seemed to be spoken more to himself.
The guard bowed his head and took his leave, but as he walked out the door, he couldn’t help but frown.
“What’s wrong?” the eunuch asked in a low voice.
The guard quickly shook his head and stepped outside.
After walking a few steps, he couldn’t help but stop.
He wasn’t sure whether to mention this or not, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that the gentleman named Cheng from the Yudai Bridge looked familiar—those eyes, it seemed like he had seen them somewhere before.
But perhaps he was mistaken. With so many people coming and going in the capital, such things were bound to happen.
The guard took a deep breath and continued on his way.
As the sun approached its zenith, Zhou Liu-lang reined in his horse and realized he had arrived at the Yudai Bridge.
“Young Master?” the servant asked.
Zhou Liu-lang took a deep breath, dismounted, and knocked on the gate of Cheng Jiao-niang’s courtyard.
“It’s you again? What do you want?” Jin Ge’er shouted through the crack in the door.
What did he want?
How could he know why he had ended up here again!
“Do you still have money?” he asked gruffly.
“Even if we have money, we won’t lend it to you!” Jin Ge’er said warily.
Zhou Liu-lang kicked the door, startling Jin Ge’er, who jumped back.
Hearing the commotion, Ban Qin came out and, ignoring Jin Ge’er’s objections, opened the door.
“Young Master, Miss is not at home,” she said.
“Out again?” Zhou Liu-lang frowned.
What was a young lady doing running out every day?
“Yes,” Ban Qin replied.
“If… if you need anything, just say it,” Zhou Liu-lang said.
Ban Qin smiled faintly.
“Thank you for your concern, Young Master, but Miss lacks nothing,” she said.
Zhou Liu-lang let out a breath, turned, and walked away. After a few steps, he stopped and looked back.
Ban Qin stood by the door, closing it, while tilting her head to smile at Jin Ge’er.
Since when did this girl dare to smile in front of him again?
And when did she dare to speak up and hold her head high? Her posture was even straighter now…
The door slowly closed.
People, things—they were just people, just names.
Zhou Liu-lang averted his gaze, took the reins from his servant, mounted his horse, and galloped away.
The tender white tofu was carefully placed into a bowl of water.
Li Dashao selected a slender bamboo knife from the row of knives of varying sizes and materials laid out before him.
The people around couldn’t help but hold their breath as Li Dashao bent over, reached into the bowl, and began to rotate the knife. Tiny white strands slowly dispersed in the water.
Cheng Jiao-niang, the old manager, and Xu Maoxiu did not approach but sat under the corridor, watching from a distance. Before long, they heard a sigh from the maid.
Li Dashao straightened up and stared at the water bowl for a moment.
“Again,” he said.
The maid hurriedly brought another piece of tofu.
Li Dashao blinked his bloodshot eyes slightly and bent down again, knife in hand.
“Carving a flower is no longer a problem,” Manager Wu said, carefully pushing a bowl forward.
The maid sitting behind Cheng Jiao-niang couldn’t help but exclaim in amazement.
“My heavens, this peony is so lifelike!” she said. “Is it really carved from tofu?”
“Yes, yes, it only took two days to master,” Xu Maoxiu replied, looking at Li Dashao with admiration.
Who would have thought that this seemingly ordinary chef could possess such skill?
“He’s a simple man, not particularly clever, but he pours all his effort into honing his craft. Back when he was apprenticing under his master, he was the least impressive, unable to come up with new dishes or flavors. But he focused on mastering the basics, and that’s his strength. I suppose it’s a trade-off—some things are gained, others lost. It’s hard to have it all in this world,” Manager Wu sighed.
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded.
“Then let’s go with the flower carving,” she said. “What else needs to be done?”
“Since it’s supposed to be vegetarian and an offering before Buddha, Li Dashao feels that flowers aren’t innovative enough, so he wants something more fitting,” Manager Wu explained. “He insists on carving a Buddha statue.”
The maid widened her eyes and looked over at Li Dashao, who had already switched to another piece of tofu, tirelessly repeating his attempts.
“But there are only four days left,” she couldn’t help but say.
“If it really doesn’t work out, we’ll use the peony in the end,” Manager Wu said. “After all, our main focus is the tofu dish itself. The presentation is just the icing on the cake.”
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded, and the three of them fell silent, watching Li Dashao as he concentrated on his carving.
Ban Qin, carrying a basket, walked into the market, and immediately someone greeted her.
“We have some fresh bok choy today. I saved it especially for you, Miss Ban Qin.”
“Miss Ban Qin, come take a look at this lamb.”
“Miss Ban Qin, I’ve got those hearts, livers, and lungs you asked for last time…”
Ban Qin smiled and responded to each one, carefully picking and choosing. It was hard to believe this was only her fourth time here.
In front of the butcher’s stall stood several people, including two well-dressed women who were chatting.
“Boss Zhang,” Ban Qin called out as she approached.
The two women turned to look at her, their expressions carrying a hint of arrogance. Although these servants from wealthy households might be lowly within their own homes, outside they carried themselves with a sense of superiority.
A large, burly man wearing a greasy apron came out. Seeing Ban Qin, he grinned.
“Here you are. I’ve got everything ready for you,” he said. “It’s so strange—why would someone so clean and proper want these things?”
“Sir, they can be used as medicine,” Ban Qin replied, glancing casually at the two women outside.
“Medicine? What kind of medicine uses hearts, livers, and lungs?” the man exclaimed in surprise.
Ban Qin smiled but said nothing more.
“Miss Ban Qin, you’re teasing me,” the man said with a laugh.
“Why would I tease you? It’s just some tonic,” Ban Qin replied with a smile.
“What kind of tonic?” the man asked.
“Nothing special, just things to strengthen the body, turn white hair black, and so on,” Ban Qin said.
The man widened his eyes, then burst into laughter.
“There’s no such medicine,” he said.
The two women who had been standing outside without speaking now turned their gaze to Ban Qin, their eyes lingering on her.
“Others may not have it, but we do,” Ban Qin said with a smile, not elaborating further. She reached out to take the wrapped package handed to her by the shop assistant, placed it in her basket, and walked away.
“Who is that?” one of the women suddenly asked as they watched Ban Qin leave.
Boss Zhang, who was about to turn back inside, paused.
“She lives near Yudai Bridge, Cheng residence. I don’t know how many people are in the household, but she buys a lot every day, always hearts, livers, lungs, and such…” he said, then suddenly paused. “Could it really be for medicine?”
The two women exchanged a glance.
Cheng residence…
This surname had become quite prominent in their household recently. Everyone from top to bottom knew about it because the master and madam mentioned it constantly, especially after the recovered Tong Neihan visited their home. They had heard from the stewardess that the master had even lost his appetite and, in a somewhat obsessive manner, wished he could fall ill himself.
Fortunately, the madam had talked him out of it, saying that the Lady Cheng no longer treated illnesses, and if he really contracted an incurable disease, it could be fatal.
But wasn’t Lady Cheng supposed to be living with the Zhou family?
The two women hesitated for a moment. Then, one of them gritted her teeth and, seeing the maid with her full basket walking down the street, hurried after her.
“Hey… Nanny Gu, your lamb is ready… Huh? Where did they go?”
The shop assistant stood at the door, puzzled, looking around in all directions.
Translator’s Note:
*Zuo Zhuan (《左传》), or The Commentary of Zuo, is an ancient Chinese historical text attributed to Zuo Qiuming. It serves as a detailed commentary on the Spring and Autumn Annals (《春秋》), covering events from 722–468 BCE. The work is known for its rich historical narratives, political intrigue, and moral reflections, often emphasizing the principles of governance, warfare, and diplomacy.
*In Chinese, “turn left”（左转）is pronounced similarly to Zuo Zhuan, which is why the young eunuch asked this.
*In its original context, the phrase refers to a rhetorical contrast in power and status—how people are judged differently based on their background. So the eunuch probably was saying this to reflect the palace politics, where everyone is constantly maneuvering, flattering, and scheming to survive—“raising and lowering their hands” to play their roles in the court’s power games.
