Chapter Bonanza (2/10)

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

The sun climbed higher and higher, and the day grew hotter and hotter. By past noon, most of the people at the market had dispersed, and Ye Tao had finally finished mending the last bundle. After working all morning, his stomach was growling with hunger.

Lin Niangzi and Old Man Hong hadn’t left either; earlier, only Zhenniang had eaten a piece of rice cake.

Old Man Hong packed up his stall; his carrying pole was almost empty. Ye Tao, too busy to rest, hurriedly called out to him, “Uncle Hong, don’t rush off—let’s go eat together.”

Lin Niangzi added, “We really owe you one from earlier—let’s eat together.”

Old Man Hong was indeed hungry, and since no one was at home to cook for him, he didn’t stand on ceremony and hoisted his carrying pole to walk with them.

There were still a few food stalls left, but after working all morning, it didn’t seem right to have lunch there. After discussing it with Lin Niangzi, Ye Tao decided to go to the Liu Family Tea House.

The tea house was busiest around noon and in the evening; though the peak hours had passed, there were still a few customers inside.

As was typical on market days, the place was bustling with customers. Matchmaker Zhang was also there; upon seeing Lin Niangzi, she was delighted and invited them to sit down. Ye Tao ordered a dish of fish, a dish of snails, and a stir-fry of seasonal vegetables.

Matchmaker Zhang treated them to a sheng of light wine and a stack of dried beans to nibble on with their drinks. She sat down herself, poured a small cup of wine, and asked Lin Niangzi:

“Where’s A-Chuan?”

Lin Niangzi replied, “A-Chuan has gone to the outer harbor; he’s rented a place there.” Matchmaker Zhang glanced at Ye Tao and said, “The person I found for you is a good match, isn’t he?” Lin Niangzi smiled and said, “He couldn’t be better.”

Old Man Hong took a sip of wine, glanced at the two women, then went back to drinking. He heard Matchmaker Zhang say, “…I told you he was meant to be with your family.” 

He thought to himself, “That’s exactly right.”

Ye Tao was indeed their family’s son-in-law. He said nothing more, simply washing down the beans with his wine.

Matchmaker Zhang was a devout Buddhist; she went to the temple on every holiday and festival, and on ordinary days she was always going on about karma and retribution.

Lin Niangzi didn’t believe in any of that. She had only ever made offerings to the Goddess of Enlightenment the year Chen Chuan went to sea; after that, when their family suffered a great upheaval and Chen Chuan took her and Zhenniang away, they had no time to tend to the statue, and she hadn’t made offerings in a long time.

However, as things stood now, it seemed Ye Tao and their family were truly meant to be; Xiaotao was sometimes even more considerate than A-Chuan.

Ye Tao was also very grateful to Matchmaker Zhang. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but he still raised a cup to her. Fortunately, the alcohol wasn’t very strong, so he closed his eyes and downed it in one gulp.

Then there was Old Man Hong. Earlier, with those bamboo buckles, he could clearly have sold them for three or four wen a pair, but he insisted on six wen, not wanting to shortchange his business. Old Man Hong accepted the cup and chuckled, “If your business does well, I’ll make a little more too.”

By the time they finished eating, the sky had turned overcast again. Matchmaker Zhang had originally wanted to ask Lin Niangzi to stay a little longer, but seeing the weather, she had no choice but to let her go. Before she left, she advised her, “My daughter-in-law is suffering terribly from morning sickness, so I’m afraid I won’t be able to get away for a while. If you have nothing else to do, come by and chat with me.”

Lin Niangzi agreed.

Perhaps because it looked like rain, the pier by the river was packed with people all waiting to take a boat. A breeze had picked up by now, and the waves on the river were a bit higher than usual. The small boats were no longer taking passengers, and the fare for the slightly larger ones was a bit more expensive—six wen for three people.

The advantage was that this boat could take them directly across the river, so they didn’t have to walk across the pontoon bridge. Old Man Hong’s house was on the south bank, not too far away, so they didn’t need to take a boat.

Ye Tao had earned quite a bit of money today, so he offered to pay the fare. Lin Niangzi didn’t hesitate to accept his offer; she took Zhenniang by the hand and boarded the boat. Once they disembarked, they hurried on, and they finally made it home before the heavy rain began.

It had been raining a lot in the afternoons lately, usually just a brief shower before clearing up, but today was different—it had been raining all afternoon with no sign of letting up. Ye Tao walked along the eaves to the door, knocked, and asked Lin Niangzi, “Aunt Lin, would noodles be okay for dinner tonight? I’ll stir-fry a vegetable dish too.”

Since the stove was outside and the rain was too heavy to use it, Ye Tao picked up Lin Niangzi’s small medicinal cauldron and headed inside. After kneading the dough, he stir-fried pickled green beans. There was no ground meat—just a simple stir-fry with vegetable oil—but it tasted pretty good.

He’d left in a hurry that morning and hadn’t filled his water jug, so after dinner, he braved the rain to fetch water for his evening wash. The pond had clearly risen considerably; if it weren’t for the stone railing around the well, the water would have already flooded in. Just as Ye Tao finished drawing water and was about to close the door, he saw a man in a coir raincoat pulling a cart approaching through the curtain of rain.

“Someone’s still hauling goods in a downpour like this?”

Ye Tao couldn’t help but take a closer look. When he heard the man from the next house call out, he realized it was a mason. The mason pulled his cart to a stop at the door of the neighboring house, and Ye Tao could see clearly that the cart was loaded with roof tiles—mostly bamboo tiles.

Ye Tao surmised that this was partly because bamboo tiles were cheap—a quick fix for an urgent need—and partly because they were light and easy to haul.

The neighbors next door were two men—brothers—whose relationship was neither particularly good nor particularly bad; they argued frequently and always had some lewd remarks for any woman they saw. They were always polite to Lin Niangzi, though; Ye Tao guessed it was because of Chen Chuan.

The mason only sold tiles—he didn’t do repairs. The two brothers grumbled as they climbed onto the roof to lay the tiles. The mason pulled his cart away, calling out as he went; his voice was drowned out by the heavy rain, but those with leaky roofs would naturally open their doors and wait for him.

Ye Tao watched for a while, thinking to himself, Thank goodness Chen Chuan fixed the roof tiles before he left. Otherwise, if a leak had occurred, how would he have known how to patch the roof?

Lin Niangzi heard the commotion and came out to take a look. Seeing Ye Tao standing under the eaves watching the spectacle, she said, “Xiaotao, hurry inside. Don’t stand out there in the wind and rain.”

Ye Tao then closed the door.

The rain hadn’t let up by evening. Ye Tao lit a candle and sewed strips of cloth. Many people had asked him today where he usually set up his stall; he figured business for the bag-making would at least have one or two customers, so he was preparing some in advance.

There wasn’t much wax left—once it was gone, it was gone. Ye Tao thought that even though it wasn’t cheap, he should still buy a couple of candles to keep on hand; there were always times when he had no choice but to light a candle.

He couldn’t light another one right now—the candle was only half a finger’s length long.

Just as he was about to remove the lampshade, a thunderclap rang out, making Ye Tao’s hand tremble.

Ye Tao wasn’t actually afraid of thunder, but he didn’t think he’d ever heard a clap as loud as this.

It wasn’t that he’d never been through a storm before—it was just that his old house had good soundproofing, so it never felt like the thunder was striking right above his head the way it did now. And this house didn’t even have a lightning rod!

Surely he couldn’t be that unlucky…

He gathered his thoughts, removed the lampshade, but couldn’t blow out the flame, so he had no choice but to put it back on. Ye Tao sat back down on the bamboo cot, stared into space for a while, and decided to count his money to calm his nerves.

He now had two money pouches: one for the money Chen Chuan had given him, and one for his own money. He didn’t need to count the money Chen Chuan had given him—he kept track of how much he spent each day—and there were still 286 wen left.

He definitely needed to count his own money.

He’d made quite a bit at the market today: 6 wen for a pair of bamboo buckles for the bag, 4 wen to lengthen it by one chi, plus 130 wen from selling the bag—it must have totaled well over two hundred.

But he’d also spent quite a bit: he’d given the 40 wen for the cloth to Lin Niangzi; 24 wen went toward the bamboo buckles; 52 wen for lunch—thanks to a discount from Matchmaker Zhang; and 6 wen for the boat ride.

Ye Tao dumped all the coins out in one go, gathered them into a pile, then arranged them in stacks of ten: fifteen, sixteen, seventeen—a total of eighteen stacks plus six loose coins.

Adding the small amounts he’d earned from setting up a stall over the past few days, Ye Tao now had a total of 186 wen. Barring any surprises, his savings would break the 200-mark tomorrow!

Ye Tao was overjoyed; even the sound of thunder seemed pleasant to his ears. With his slender fingers, he idly scooped up copper coins, one by one, raised them into the air, and let them fall freely, listening to the crisp clinking and clanging. He hummed a little tune as he strung together a hundred copper coins. He thought to himself that this time, in addition to fine linen, he could also buy some silk thread. The plain silk thread he was currently using to practice embroidery—given to him by Lin Niangzi—left every pattern with only a single color, which didn’t quite suit his aesthetic.

Thump, thump—

There were two knocks on the wooden door, which was bolted.

Ye Tao thought he’d misheard it; he paused, then heard another knock.

Thump, thump—

Who is it? It’s late at night, and it’s raining.

Ye Tao warily tucked the money away, tiptoed over to pick up a thick piece of firewood, and only then walked to the door: “Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

“Chen Chuan?”

Through the door and despite the rain outside, Ye Tao still recognized the voice. Surprised, he set down the thick stick and slid open the door latch. The person outside was holding a paper umbrella; just then, a gust of wind swept by, and a sudden, heavy downpour pelted the umbrella’s surface with a swish.

“Why are you back so late? Have you eaten yet?”

Chen Chuan replied, “I’m escorting a ship. We’re leaving before dawn.”

Ye Tao couldn’t figure out why he, a baggage handler at the docks, was being asked to guard a ship again, but he never asked too many questions about Chen Chuan’s work. He welcomed him into the house:

“Should I call Aunt Lin? Zhenniang really misses you.”

Chen Chuan shook his head: “It’s getting late; I won’t go.”

He asked again, “Do you have any dry clothes?”

Only then did Ye Tao notice that he was soaked through. Of course—with rain this heavy, what good was an umbrella? “No.”

Chen Chuan knew exactly how many sets of clothes there were in the house; unless Ye Tao had made new ones, he certainly wouldn’t have any spare ones to give him. No sooner had Ye Tao finished speaking than Chen Chuan had already taken off his shirt, casually wiped himself down with the wet garment, and tossed it onto the bamboo cot.

Ye Tao saw a figure somewhere between a teenager and a young man—tall and well-proportioned, with broad, straight shoulders. The skin on his body was lighter than the parts usually exposed; rainwater that hadn’t been wiped off trickled down the groove in the center of his spine, merging with his narrow waistline as it disappeared into the waistband of his wet pants.

With one hand hooked around the waistband of his pants, Chen Chuan glanced back at Ye Tao, as if mindful of him.

Chen Chuan sometimes acted very mature, and other times very childish; to Ye Tao, he always seemed like a younger brother. But the moment he took off his clothes, he suddenly seemed different.

Ye Tao didn’t have time to think about exactly how he was different—it just was. His heart was beating a little faster, so he lowered his head: “Have you… have you eaten yet? There are some leftovers from tonight’s stir-fry. Do you want me to make you some noodles?”

As he spoke, he kept stealing glances at Chen Chuan.

Chen Chuan said, “Okay,” so Ye Tao went to scoop up some flour and knead the dough. After kneading it a couple of times, he turned around—Chen Chuan had walked over at some point and was standing behind him, looking down at him. “Do you really know how to make noodles?”

He was standing very close, peering over Ye Tao’s shoulder at the mixing bowl as he spoke, his breath brushing against Ye Tao’s ear. He’d just gotten caught in the rain—why was he hotter than Chen Chuan?

When Chen Chuan questioned him, Ye Tao didn’t argue; he just nodded vaguely, wishing Chen Chuan would step back. But Chen Chuan seemed to find it amusing and stood there watching him knead the dough.

After watching for a while, he finally walked away. Ye Tao hadn’t even had a chance to breathe a sigh of relief when Chen Chuan returned after washing his hands: “I want to knead it, too.” Why does he act just like Zhenniang?

But Chen Chuan was definitely stronger than Zhenniang. Just as Ye Tao was about to step aside to let him take over, Chen Chuan had already reached out, circling around him from behind, and plunged his hands into the basin. He flexed his wrist and kneaded the dough together: “Like this?” 

First one hand, then both.

With the table in front of him and the shirtless Chen Chuan behind him, Ye Tao had lost the initiative and was stuck in the middle, unable to move forward or back.

His ears flushed red: “You go first. Move your hands so I can get out.”

Chen Chuan said, “It’s fine, I can see.”

Ye Tao：“……”

Is this even a matter of whether you can see or not?!

But Chen Chuan didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with this at all; he even asked him, “Is this how you rub it?”

Ye Tao had no choice but to stand where he was, shifting slightly to the side to give him a clear view, and instruct him on how to knead the dough with a blank expression. Straight guys really are……

What a bunch of nonsense.