A sharp crack echoed, causing the few people present to react in various ways. Chen Chuan paid it no mind; he even rubbed his fingers together, feeling the lingering warmth on his fingertips: “Alive?”

Ye Tao was deeply annoyed by Chen Chuan’s behavior—he’d gone straight for it without a word. At least he still remembered what Matchmaker Zhang had said earlier and why he was here in the first place.

Setting aside everything else, if he could find a place to stay for free, he could apply for a job at the Zhong family’s tailor shop. Eating with a family would surely be cheaper than eating alone—he’d just have to chip in for meals, and he could get by even on a lower salary.

With that in mind, Ye Tao forced a smile: “What do you mean, ‘alive’?”

Lin Niangzi shot Chen Chuan a sharp glance and said to Ye Tao, “This is my son. His name is Chen Chuan—just call him A-Chuan.” She gently cupped Ye Tao’s face and asked, “Did that hurt?”

Even though it was summer, her hand felt slightly cool, and a faint scent of medicine wafted from her sleeve. A memory surfaced in Ye Tao’s mind—from when he was very young, of his mother wiping his face for him.

Now it was Ye Tao’s turn to feel embarrassed; his ears turned red as he whispered, “No.”

Chen Chuan hadn’t been exactly gentle, and Ye Tao’s slap had been even harder—hard enough to make his hand sting a little, right in front of Aunt Lin. Once his emotions subsided and he calmed down, Ye Tao asked him, “Did you see me yesterday?”

Lin Niangzi was puzzled as well: “You don’t recognize him? Then what about these clothes?”

“Clothes?” Ye Tao looked down at his outfit. “These aren’t mine. I don’t know who put them on me.”

Lin Niangzi glanced at Chen Chuan: “A-Chuan said he saved someone yesterday. Could it have been you?”

She wasn’t entirely sure—Chen Chuan had clearly implied yesterday that the person was already dead when he pulled them out of the water. But if that wasn’t the case, how did these clothes end up on Ye Tao?

Upon hearing both sides, Matchmaker Zhang immediately understood what was going on and exclaimed, “In all the rush just now, I forgot to mention one strange detail.”

She recounted how Old Man Luo had brought Ye Tao to her place, then speculated, “Old Man Luo said he was rescued by workers at the wharf. I suppose not everyone is such a strong swimmer, and since A-Chuan’s clothes were there, it must have been A-Chuan who saved him, right?”

Matchmaker Zhang looked at Chen Chuan with anticipation in her eyes. She had already found Ye Tao’s return from the dead to be quite miraculous; if, by some twist of fate, he had ended up in the home of his savior, wouldn’t that make it even more miraculous? After all, she was the one who had brought him here—she’d have stories to tell for years to come. 

Chen Chuan neither denied it nor admitted it was him, but Matchmaker Zhang had already made up her mind. Clapping her hands, she laughed, “This is fate—it was meant to be that he came to your home.” When Matchmaker Zhang got excited, she spoke quickly; Ye Tao couldn’t make out every word, so he could only piece together a rough guess based on what Lin Niangzi had said earlier and this piece of clothing. The tall, fierce-looking young man standing before him was most likely the one who had saved him from the water.

Old Man Luo said that they had placed him on the back of an ox to let him vomit water, which could be considered first aid, but if no one had pulled him out of the water, he would have certainly died. Even if Chen Chuan wasn’t his lifesaver, he was still the owner of this coat; he probably covered him with it with the intention of preparing the body for burial.

Ye Tao’s expression was subtle; he felt that although this man had been a bit forward, his actions were understandable, and he wasn’t a bad person at heart.

He surveyed his surroundings. Originally, he’d stayed only as a stopgap measure at Matchmaker Zhang’s suggestion, but now he had a few more sincere, long-term considerations. Aunt Lin was in poor health, and since he’d taken care of his grandmother before, he had some experience.

Just as he was thinking about how to repay this kindness, he suddenly heard Chen Chuan say, “Our family can’t afford to keep freeloaders.”

Matchmaker Zhang tried to reason with him: “You shouldn’t put it that way. Zhenniang is still young, and your mother is frail. Plus, with her craft—she hasn’t improved in all these decades. You work hard all day out there, only to come home to a cold pot and a cold stove. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to cook for you? It would also give you peace of mind to have someone at home to look after things. Besides, an extra pair of hands makes life a little easier…” 

As she spoke, she realized these words sounded somewhat familiar—weren’t they the kind of things matchmakers often said when arranging marriages? Clearing her throat, she added, “Once you’ve saved up some capital, you’ll be in a better position to marry and have children.”

Lin Niangzi also urged him, “It’s no easy life for him, wandering alone out there. Since you’ve met him, you should give him a helping hand. I’m not much help, and with Zhenniang at home, you’re always worried. With one more person in the house, you won’t have to rush back every single day.”

Chen Chuan glanced at Ye Tao: “This man doesn’t seem to know his way around the kitchen—I’m afraid he’ll need you to look after him.”

He wasn’t implying that strangers couldn’t be trusted.

Anyone who had ever met Ye Tao found it hard to believe he was capable of doing anything so unscrupulous.

Ye Tao finally found an opportunity to chime in, saying defiantly, “I can cook! I can also sew clothes.”

He glanced at Matchmaker Zhang, who didn’t try to put him down. Zhong Niangzi explained that when she said “slow,” she was comparing him to the other tailors in the shop; when it came to making clothes for her own family, what did it matter if he took a little longer?

She nodded. “I’ve seen Xiaotao’s work myself—his stitches are tight and even, so the clothes he makes are sure to be sturdy.”

Chen Chuan remained silent. Ye Tao looked at the row of low-lying houses nearby, surmising that their living conditions might not be very comfortable, and tentatively asked, “Shall I pay you?” 

Chen Chuan looked over, and Ye Tao added, “I don’t have any money right now, but I’ll find some work and send you your monthly pay.”

“To cover rent and food.”

Chen Chuan snorted derisively. Ye Tao nearly lost his temper, but managed to hold it in by silently repeating “life-saving benefactor” to himself twice. Chen Chuan raised his hand and pointed at Ye Tao’s leg. 

Ye Tao: 

What? Does he want his leg? To break it and go begging? 

“That bag.”

Ye Tao rummaged through his pockets with both hands but found nothing. He even turned his pants pockets inside out to check, and a few grains of sand fell out.

Chen Chuan said again, “The one on your knee.” 

Ye Tao patted it—it really did feel a little different.

Without unbuttoning his pants, he reached inside and pulled out a silver bracelet strung on a black leather cord—the very one he’d been wearing earlier. He’d thought it had fallen into the sea. 

How did it end up in his pocket?

He looked at Chen Chuan in confusion: “How did you know it was here? Did you put it there?” No way—who hides things in a pocket above their knee?

The bag even had a lid, but Ye Tao hadn’t used it even once since buying these pants. He hadn’t opened it to look inside when washing them either; he’d just scrunched the whole pair into a ball and scrubbed them. Even after they got wet, he couldn’t feel anything particularly heavy about them. 

If Chen Chuan hadn’t pointed it out, he probably wouldn’t have noticed it for a long time.

Chen Chuan spread his hands. Ye Tao placed the bracelet in the palm of his hand without any reluctance. Since he knew it was there, he could have taken it long ago, but he didn’t. Instead, he even covered it with a piece of clothing—which showed he was a good person.

He’s just a bit of a teenager.

Chen Chuan curled his fingers around the cord, but Ye Tao held on to it again, then said awkwardly, “Could you lend me some money?”

He needed the money to pay Matchmaker Zhang. Based on the job she’d helped him find, the monthly pay was nine hundred.

As soon as Matchmaker Zhang heard this, she immediately waved her hand. “What are you saying? It would be one thing if it were anyone else, but since you’ve come to Huiniang’s house, how could I possibly ask you for money?” She’d actually borrowed it from A-Chuan.

When Ye Tao took out the bracelet, she glanced at it a couple of times. The silver was as bright as snow—clearly of high quality. If he were to cut off a small piece, she doubted she could refuse.

Ye Tao hadn’t failed to consider that, but aside from the clothes on his back, this bracelet was the only thing he’d brought with him. He didn’t want to take it apart; he’d give it to Chen Chuan first, and later, he might have a chance to buy it back.

Besides, he didn’t know how much silver would be a fair exchange for nine hundred wen.

Upon hearing this, Lin Niangzi said, “I still have a few pieces of thin silk cloth at home—all scraps. Zhenniang has outgrown them, so you can take them. When your daughter-in-law gives birth in the future, you can make a couple of baby outfits out of them.”

She took Matchmaker Zhang into the house to fetch the items.

Ordinary people mostly wore hemp clothing, which was exactly what Chen Chuan gave to Ye Tao. It took many washings to soften it, and even then, it was still a bit scratchy. Thin silk cloth, on the other hand, was woven from silk threads; after being washed, it became very soft and didn’t scratch at all, making it just right for a child’s delicate skin.

Lin Niangzi said they were scraps of fabric, but in reality, they weren’t that scattered—each piece was two or three chi long. They must have come from a small workshop, where the width of the fabric was somewhat narrower.

At a glance, Matchmaker Zhang Ya could tell that Lin Niangzi was just making up an excuse. Even without any embroidery, piecing these scraps together would be more than enough to make a long robe for Zhenniang, and there would still be enough left over to make a few pairs of shoe uppers.

But Lin Niangzi said, “You’re in business; you can’t break the rules. I don’t have anything good to offer right now, so just take these few feet of thin silk cloth for now.” Her gaze was sincere, but her manner left no room for refusal. Matchmaker Zhang sighed: “You’re still so stubborn. All right, all right.”

She hastily rolled up the few feet of thin silk cloth and glanced at the sky. Before she could speak, Lin Niangzi said, “It’s getting late. You should go home. I don’t have anything special to serve, so I won’t keep you.”

Matchmaker Zhang was momentarily taken aback, then laughed, “Next time, bring A-Chuan and the others over to my place for dinner. I’ll only charge you for the meat.”

Ye Tao stayed behind.

Chen Chuan went to stoke the fire, while Lin Niangzi showed Ye Tao around the house.

Actually, there wasn’t much to get to know—the pond wasn’t very big, and there were only two rooms directly facing it.

Both were mud-walled, tiled-roof houses of roughly the same size, about two meters wide and perhaps twice as long.

The wall with the door faced the pond directly; the eaves jutted outward. Under the eaves of the left room was a stove—that’s where Chen Chuan lived—while outside the door of the right room stood a long bench and a chipped water jar; Lin Niangzi lived there with Zhenniang. 

Lin Niangzi led Ye Tao into Chen Chuan’s room.

The room had no partitions; one could see all the way across it at a glance. In the outer half, against the wall, firewood was stacked; a little further in stood a table, and further still was a bamboo bed; aside from that, there wasn’t even a trunk, let alone a cabinet.

Chen Chuan’s clothes were stored in a bamboo basket, which—perhaps to keep them dry—was placed on a stool missing one leg.

From the outside, Ye Tao had thought the room looked quite small, but once inside, he realized what it truly meant to have “bare walls”—and yet, even in such a small space, there was still some empty room. He had originally thought that exchanging labor for room and board was a fair deal, but now he began to worry: wouldn’t he become a heavy burden on this household?