Before dawn the next day, Ye Tao was woken up by Chen Chuan.

He was in the middle of a dream—he was in math class and had accidentally fallen asleep—when he suddenly heard his name and instinctively called out, “Here!” His voice was loud and clear, and he sounded wide awake; his eyes were open, but he was still groggy.

Chen Chuan held back a laugh: “Time for your medicine.”

Ye Tao was very obedient, following orders without question. He lifted his shirt and got into position before realizing something was wrong—Chen Chuan had already pressed him down. After another round of inhuman torment ended, Ye Tao was fully awake but lay motionless on the bamboo cot.

Chen Chuan went in and out a few times; once everything was ready and he was about to leave, Ye Tao still showed no reaction. “I’m leaving.”

Ye Tao had caught his breath, but he still didn’t want to move: “Hmm…”

Chen Chuan also stood there, motionless. 

Chen Siwu called out from outside, “Second Brother?”

Chen Chuan jingled his money pouch. Ye Tao heard the clinking of metal, sat up a little, and suddenly realized what Chen Chuan meant. He reached into his own small money pouch—which he’d sewn just yesterday—and jingled it as well.

Chen Chuan raised one eyebrow slightly, looking a bit surprised: “Did Mom give you that?”

Ye Tao gave a soft snort, a look of pride crossing his face. 

Chen Chuan still counted out twelve wen for him. 

When they woke up, the sky was still a bit overcast, but it cleared up after breakfast. Zhenniang went to visit her good friend Xiao’e, while Lin Niangzi continued making shoes for Ye Tao while simmering medicine.

Ye Tao grabbed his basket and headed out the door.

Since it had rained yesterday, there were quite a few more vendors selling mushrooms at the market today.

Common mixed mushrooms were priced similarly to inexpensive vegetables—a large handful cost three to five wen. Since mushrooms could be stir-fried or used in soup, Ye Tao spent three wen, intending to stir-fry half and use the other half in soup. For vegetables, she bought summer cabbage and string beans, which came to a total of eight wen.

He also bought a few eggs. With the hot weather, chicken eggs were cheap, and duck eggs were even cheaper. Since Ye Tao timed his purchase for just as the morning market was winding down, he spent only 4 wen on three eggs.

Of the three eggs, he steamed one, stir-fried another, and used the third to make soup.

According to Ye Tao’s habit, stir-fried dishes should include meat, but when he passed by the meat stall on his way to the tailor’s shop yesterday, he asked the price: pork was ninety wen per jin, pork with skin was slightly cheaper at seventy wen per portion—which weighed a little over two jin—but it was still beyond his means. He’d stick to eggs. 

After buying his groceries, Ye Tao didn’t rush home; instead, he slung his basket over his shoulder and walked out of the city gate along the main road.

Yesterday, he’d been completely focused on finding work at a tailor’s shop and hadn’t even considered striking out on his own. In fact, given the foot traffic in this area, if he found a suitable spot to set up a small stall, he’d surely have at least a few customers by the end of the day.

A little over a li outside the city gate, not far from where Chen Chuan had boarded the boat earlier, stood a large banyan tree—a solitary tree that seemed to form a forest of its own. During last year’s great flood, nearly all the trees in the vicinity had perished, yet this banyan tree remained unscathed.

Now that the weather is hot, many people like to seek shade under the tree. With so many people around, some have set up small stalls—mostly selling straw and bamboo crafts, drinks, and snacks, though there are also fortune-telling stalls.

Ye Tao looked around carefully but saw no tailors. This was a business opportunity!

While the city gate was certainly livelier, the heavy traffic of carriages and horses during the day meant the morning market ended by the hour of Chen. Here, however, he could set up shop from morning until night. He scouted out a good spot and went back to tell Lin Niangzi about it.

Lin Niangzi was very supportive; she found him a basket to hold his sewing kit and scissors, as well as a small bamboo chair.

The small bamboo chair was the one she used to sit on while boiling herbal medicine, but Ye Tao declined it. Carrying the small basket, he set off excitedly for the Banyan Tree Market. He had already scouted out a spot—right next to an old man selling bamboo-woven goods.

The roots of the great banyan tree protruded from the ground; after wiping them down, they were comfortable to sit on.

The old man wove bamboo baskets while calling out to customers; his calls sounded just like singing, with every syllable rising and the end of each phrase drawn out long—it was quite amusing.

Ye Tao didn’t have a conspicuous stall, nor did he have a large pile of split bamboo strips or finished products set aside—things that would make it immediately obvious what he did for a living—so he, too, called out, “Making clothes, mending clothes—”

The old man chuckled, “Young gentleman, what sort of accent is that?” 

Ye Tao replied sheepishly, “Is it wrong? How else should I call out?”

“Call out like this: ‘Clothing repairs—’”

The old man let out a single call, and immediately a customer came his way. A fortune-teller walked over, looked first at the old man, then turned to Ye Tao: “Young gentleman, can you mend the shop banner?”

Ye Tao had thought he was asking, “Would you like a fortune told?” but it turned out he was asking about a shop banner.

He looked up. The shop banner that read “Unmistakable Predictions, Accurate Readings by Sai Shenxian” had clearly been up for quite some time—it had several holes, and the edges were frayed. He nodded: “I can repair it.”

The shop banner was tied to a thin bamboo pole, and the fortune-teller handed him the pole as well. Ye Tao turned it over and realized the man had tied a tight knot; after so long, it was impossible to untie.

The cloth strips used to secure it were similar to the sashes on clothes—they were sewn on—and the seams had already torn. Even without untying the knot, the shop banner would have fallen off soon.

Ye Tao simply unstitched the strips, used the scraps of cloth Aunt Lin had given him to sew on a few new ones, and sewed them in the original spots. With the strips padding the back, he was able to patch up the original tears as well. After patching it, he re-hemmed and reinforced the frayed edges.

He sewed meticulously, folding each strip of fabric in half and finishing the edges to ensure they wouldn’t come apart easily. It took him quite a while, but fortunately, the fortune-teller’s stall was right here, so there was no rush.

By the time he had finished mending it completely, the old man standing nearby had already woven a small bamboo basket.

Ye Tao turned it over and over, inspecting it carefully to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, before handing the shop banner back and saying thoughtfully, “Three wen.”

As he spoke, he was particularly worried that the fortune-teller might try to pay him with a fortune-telling session instead of money, but fortunately, his fears were unfounded; “Sai Shenxian” readily handed him three wen. Ye Tao breathed a sigh of relief, flashed a smile, and was officially open for business.

He tucked the three wen into his small coin pouch and began to hum softly; the clinking sound of the copper coins as they settled into the pouch was truly pleasant to the ear.

“Sai Shenxian” was a familiar face at Banyan Tree Market. As soon as Ye Tao had fixed his shop banner, a slender man who looked like a scholar teased him with a laugh: “Sai Shenxian, Sai Shenxian—I’d say you’re all talk and no action. Do you even need someone else to fix your shop banner?”

Sai Shenxian stroked his goatee, unfazed: “I’m Sai Shenxian the fortune-teller, not Sai Shenxian the sorcerer.”

The scholar then said, “Well then, read my fortune.”

Sai Shenxian glanced at his face and said, “I see darkness in your brow; within a moment, you will surely face a bloody calamity.”

Before the scholar could say anything, the woman standing next to him burst out, “What nonsense are you spouting? My husband…” 

Sai Shenxian quickly interjected, “He went to the South Entertainment District yesterday.”

The woman’s face immediately turned pale, and she turned to twist her husband’s ear: “Just as I thought—you can’t stay honest for even three days. You said you were going to help your classmate Wen to study, but you went off to see your mistress again?”

It was unclear what line of work the woman was in, but she was broad-shouldered and stocky, her frame more than a full size larger than her husband’s. She carried him as if he were a little chick. The scholar begged for mercy repeatedly, but the woman wouldn’t listen; she dragged him toward the edge of the woods: “You can’t go a single day without her. Today I’ll buy her freedom and bring her back to pull the donkey and grind grain day in and day out.”

The scholar’s pleas for mercy were drowned out by the laughter. Ye Tao stood there, wide-eyed and speechless. The old man had stopped working at some point; seeing the young gentleman’s expression, he chuckled, “Young gentleman, did you see that? In the future, when you marry, you mustn’t judge a woman solely by her family’s wealth. If you bring a shrew like that home…”

He shook his head with a smile; the meaning was clear without words.

Ye Tao snapped back to his senses: “You can’t really blame that woman, though. Her husband was seeing another woman on the side and even pretended to be a scholar. She was just giving him a little lesson. If you ask me, she should’ve given him a good beating and kicked him out, so he could fly off with his mistress.” 

The old man looked at him with surprise: “Men all want to have their cake and eat it too, but you’re thinking of the woman.”

Ye Tao puffed out his chest proudly. “How could that be the same? I’m a fine young socialist with sound values.”

Thanks to Sai Shenxian and that couple, everyone in the woods who came to enjoy the cool shade knew that a young tailor had arrived at Banyan Tree Market, and they came out of curiosity to talk to him.

Since tailors are usually women, and he was a young man with fair, clean-cut features, he really didn’t look like a tailor at all.

Ye Tao wasn’t in a hurry; he patiently exchanged pleasantries with everyone who came by. After all, in business, you have to make a good first impression.

After sitting in Banyan Tree Market until nearly noon, Ye Tao picked up his basket and headed home to cook lunch. Just then, Lin Niangzi, who had just finished making a shoe, beckoned to him: “Xiaotao, come try this on.”

It was Ye Tao’s first time wearing this kind of cloth shoe with a layered sole, and it wasn’t as soft as he’d expected.

“They’re hard?” 

Lin Niangzi laughed, “Shoes are meant to be worn on your feet. Soft soles don’t hold up well—only the young ladies in the embroidery towers can get away with wearing soft-soled shoes.” Ye Tao thought, but aren’t there insoles for that?

But insoles that fit the arch of the foot probably weren’t that easy to make, so he didn’t say anything more.

Lin Niangzi said, “Step down firmly and see if they still fit. If they do, I’ll make the other one the same height.” Ye Tao stepped down firmly and took a couple of steps: “They fit perfectly.”

He slipped the shoes back on, and Lin Niangzi asked him, “How was business this morning?” 

“I made three wen.”

Lin Niangzi smiled. “Not bad—you’ve only just opened for business.”

Ye Tao agreed, “If I hadn’t gone out, I wouldn’t have made a single wen. At least this is some income.” 

After lunch, Ye Tao picked up his basket and went to sit under the banyan tree again. Since no one stopped by that afternoon, he sewed a few strips of fabric, each about a finger wide. Most of his clothes were held together with these strips, so sewing a few in advance made things easier when he needed them.

Mid-afternoon, Lin Niangzi stopped by to bring him a bamboo tube filled with cool water. Chen Chuan had one just like it, which he took with him every day when he went out.

Lin Niangzi reminded him, “It’s hot out—make sure to drink plenty of water.”

After she left, the old man sitting nearby asked Ye Tao, “Is that your mother?” 

“She’s my aunt,” Ye Tao replied.

The two chatted as they worked. Ye Tao learned that the old man’s surname was Hong, that his wife had died many years ago and he had never remarried, and that he had only one daughter, who was married in the city.

The knee pad Old Man Hong used while working had worn through, so Ye Tao mended it for him without charging a penny. In return, Old Man Hong gave him a small, palm-sized woven bamboo box: “Take this to hold your needles and thread.” 

On his first day running the stall, Ye Tao made a net profit of three wen, plus the sewing box, and sewed more than a dozen straps.

It had been a long time since he’d held a needle for so long, and the palms of his hands were a bit sore. That evening, when Chen Chuan was massaging his back, he reached out and asked, “Can you use your hands to massage?”

Chen Chuan said there would be an extra charge.

Ye Tao asked first, “How much extra?”

Before Chen Chuan could answer, he added, “Just put it on my tab.”

He only had twelve wen on him; he couldn’t afford to pay an exorbitant price, so he’d just have to keep running up the debt.

Chen Chuan laughed in exasperation, stopped just in time, and shoved the medicine bottle at him: “Take it yourself.”

Ye Tao laughed too and put the medicine bottle away. “Never mind. This medicine is too expensive. I’ll just steep it in hot water.”

If it were up to him, he wouldn’t have used this 600-wen medicine at all.

But there are advantages to paying a premium—the results were indeed noticeable. After a few applications, the originally purple bruise faded and gradually turned a bluish-yellow, and he no longer woke up in pain when he rolled over in his sleep.