Chapter 99: Scene at the Teahouse
In the evening, Liu Fawei and Qi Yinglan arrived.
Since Liu Yongfu’s family of three had left, their household finally quieted down. Both sisters-in-law now had a glow on their faces, no longer wearing the constant frowns and tired, yellowish complexions as before.
They brought Qingyan a large piece of pork ribs and a basket full of apples. Qiu Henian left some apples in the house and took the rest to the backyard vegetable cellar.
Liu Fawei said to Qingyan, “This is pork freshly slaughtered today. Given the weather, it can be kept outside for another two or three days. We can slowly cook it.”
Qingyan stared at the large piece of ribs and said, “My family’s iron pot is big enough. If we stew it all together, it should fit.”
Liu Fawei looked at him in surprise and said, “There’s so much, how can we finish stewing it all?”
Qingyan felt a bit embarrassed.
“Sister-in-law, I feel like eating everything I see now, and I’m still not satisfied.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Qi Yinglan chuckled, and even Liu Fawei laughed.
She patted Qingyan on the arm and said, “It’s a good thing to have a good appetite. Some can’t eat anything during the first three months of pregnancy and are always vomiting. You being able to eat is a blessing.”
Qi Yinglan glanced at the cupboard in the room and asked, “Qingyan, have you made small quilts and pillows for the child?”
Qingyan shook his head.
“Not yet. I thought there’s still time. I’ll go to the county when I have the time and buy some soft cotton cloth to make them.”
Qi Yinglan said, “Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll help you make them.”
Liu Fawei added, “The quilts Yinglan made for Zhuangzhuang are very good. Let him help, and it’ll be fine.”
Qingyan happily agreed.
The next morning, before dawn, Qiu Henian got up, took the oil lamp, and went to the outer room to cook.
After dawn, the rooster in the house flew up to the top of the chicken coop and crowed. Qingyan woke up only then. As soon as he opened his eyes, he smelled the aroma of stewed meat, instantly feeling very happy.
Breakfast was eaten at the small round table by the bed. Qingyan sat comfortably on the edge of the bed gnawing on the bones, while Qiu Henian sat on a stool on the other side, eating his meal and occasionally serving him vegetables and rice.
Last night, Qingyan couldn’t sleep well. Qiu Henian hugged him and asked what was wrong.
Qingyan hesitated for a long time before telling the truth—that he couldn’t stop thinking about the pork ribs left on the outside windowsill.
In the pitch-black night, Qiu Henian’s deep laughter was filled with pleasure.
Qingyan struggled to get out of his embrace, but Qiu Henian held him tightly and whispered in his ear, “I’ll stew the ribs tomorrow morning so you won’t have to worry anymore, okay?”
Upon hearing this, Qingyan finally stopped struggling and lay down obediently.
After a while, Qiu Henian thought he had fallen asleep, but unexpectedly Qingyan spoke again, “Don’t put potatoes, don’t put other vegetables either…the whole pot, just put meat!”
Qiu Henian suppressed his laughter, agreed to everything, and finally managed to let him sleep peacefully.
That morning, Qingyan ate almost half a pot of ribs alone, barely touched the rice, and only ate a few bites of the stir-fried vegetables Qiu Henian requested.
After his stomach was full, Qingyan felt sorry for Qiu Henian for getting up so early. So, he massaged his shoulders and back in bed, hugged him for a while, kissed him, and then prepared to go out.
In the morning, Qiu Henian rode a horse to take Qingyan to the town. By the afternoon when they came back to pick up people, Xiaozao had already harnessed the carriage.
The carriage didn’t look new, but it was scrubbed very clean. It could accommodate four or five adults, enough for the usual trips to the blacksmith’s shop or Fragrant Melody Pavillion to stock up.
After Fragrant Melody Pavillion closed in the afternoon, Aunt Li and Qingyan all got on the carriage. Qiu Henian drove the carriage to take Huani, who lived in town, back first. Then the rest of them leisurely headed towards Liuxi Village.
Although there was no rush to get home, they arrived much earlier than usual. Aunt Li kept exclaiming that they would enjoy such comfort in their future trips back and forth.
…
Old Wang’s ewes had already been secured. Qiu Henian went to the county again that day to select some good wood and prepare to make a cradle for the child.
Qingyan went with him and bought the cotton cloth and cotton for making quilts, then took them back to wash and dry. Soon, he would ask Qi Yinglan for help to sew the small quilts together.
After selecting the wood, they loaded it onto the cart and secured it. Qiu Henian left the carriage at the post station for convenience while they visited each shop slowly.
After buying everything, as they passed by a teahouse, Qiu Henian asked Qingyan if he wanted to rest for a while. The post station where the carriage was kept was still a bit further away.
Qingyan had just looked at shops selling accessories and clothes and indeed felt tired after walking around for so long, so he agreed.
The two found a seat on the ground floor of the teahouse, and the waiter brought them a pot of tea, as well as melon seeds, peanuts, dried fruits, and other snacks.
There was a stage in the teahouse, where a woman was currently singing Huanglong opera. Her voice was good, reaching high notes that elicited constant applause from the tea-drinking crowd.
Qingyan nibbled on melon seeds while occasionally glancing at the stage, joining in with the others in applauding.
On one side of the stage, there was an old blind man with both eyes closed. He held a erhu and waited beside him was a middle-aged man in a long robe with a long beard. He held a clapperboard and muttered something with his eyes half-closed.
Qiu Henian’s gaze lingered on the two for a moment before quickly retracting, focusing instead on peeling a small pile of peanuts and placing the shelled kernels into Qingyan’s plate.
After a while, the Huanglong opera finished, and the woman came down from the stage, replaced by the blind old man and the middle-aged man with a long beard.
The blind old man tested a few notes and quickly played a fast-paced tune fluently, immediately capturing the attention of the audience below.
Following that, the middle-aged man clapped a few times and began to sing, combining narration with storytelling in a fast-paced, engaging manner.
Teahouses usually attracted customers with storytellers and performers. Storytellers like them usually told lengthy tales, with each session leaving the audience eager for more, ensuring steady business for the teahouse.
Qingyan didn’t pay much attention to what he was saying at first, just treating it as background noise. But after a while, he began to feel something was wrong.
Initially, the story seemed to be a romantic tale, but as he listened further, Qingyan became increasingly alarmed.
The protagonist of this story was named Huaiyang, who developed feelings for his friend’s young wife. He would often follow her wherever she went, pretending it was by chance, just to strike up a conversation with her.
It seemed like some days had passed since then. Today, when he began to tell, he only briefly summarized the previous story. It was already the segment where Huaiyang discovered that his friend was going to leave for a long time, leaving his young wife alone at home.
Such romantic affairs were always popular, and the guests at the table stretched their necks and listened eagerly, their ears perked up.
Huaiyang was talented and handsome, and with the young wife’s husband not at home, the two of them eventually engaged in a sordid affair.
Afterwards, everyone thought it would be some explicit description next, but they didn’t expect the plot to take a sharp turn. The young wife developed intentions to remarry Huaiyang.
Huaiyang soon grew tired of her and was never going to marry another woman, but he actually deceived this woman to the outskirts and buried her alive.
Some guests were sweating with surprise and murmured, “How did things escalate to this extent, ending in someone’s death!”
His tablemate chuckled and said, “You must be new to this teahouse. This story is called ‘The Chronicles of Huaiyang’. It’s been popular in the county’s teahouses lately, drawing quite a crowd. I’ve been following it from the beginning, and this woman’s death buried by Huaiyang is already the third instance. The previous two ended similarly, so others listening aren’t too surprised; they already guessed it would end like this.”
Qingyan overheard their conversation and furrowed his brows.
“This isn’t ‘The Chronicles of Huaiyang’ at all,” he thought to himself.
“It’s clearly about Yang Huai, the wealthy merchant in the county.”
Just as Qingyan was processing this, a commotion erupted as three or four men entered the teahouse noisily.
He turned to look and noticed from their attire tags that they were identified as “Household Servants of the Yang Family, County’s Wealthy Merchant.”
Sure enough, someone nearby whispered, “These are people from the Yang family.”
There were many surnamed Yang in Muling County, but when people mentioned “the Yang family,” there was only one they referred to.
The men walked in and headed straight towards the stage.
Qingyan was about to look again when someone grabbed his wrist.
He turned to see Qiu Henian standing up, saying, “It’s getting late; we should go back.”
Qingyan nodded and followed him out.
As they took a few steps, they heard sounds of things being thrown behind them, accompanied by shouting from the group of men.
Qiu Henian shielded Qingyan in front of him, one hand holding the bundle, the other loosely around his waist, paying no mind to the noise behind them.
As they neared the door, two young men resembling scholars stood there.
One of them smirked coldly at the chaos on stage, “Judging by this scene, this so-called Huaiyang could very well be pointing fingers at Yang Huai, who acts pretentiously.”
The other said, “Perhaps this is orchestrated by the victim seeking revenge. Our cook used to work for the Yangs; he said Yang Huai is notorious for his duplicity and malice. In private…”
He whispered the rest into his companion’s ear, too softly for Qingyan to catch.
Qingyan lowered his head, focused on the threshold underfoot, and stepped over it, leaving the teahouse.
When they returned to the post station, they paid a few copper coins for the fodder and continued their journey back in the horse carriage.
Midway, Qingyan sat pondering behind Qiu Henian, “Do you think this is really retaliation from someone he’s harmed?”
Qiu Henian glanced back at him, shook his head, and said, “I don’t know.”
Pausing briefly, he added, “But if you walk the path of wrongdoing long enough, you’re bound to encounter ghosts. If he’s done something wicked, retribution will come sooner or later.”
Qingyan contemplated this for a while. The apprehension he usually felt at the mere mention of Yang Huai seemed to ease somewhat.
“The wicked will eventually meet their end,” he thought to himself.
“Yang Huai has harmed so many people; there are just as many who harbor resentment against him. Even Liu Fawei once considered seeking justice for Liu Xiang but had to give up due to pressure.”
Yang Huai wasn’t an impenetrable fortress. Perhaps this teahouse incident was just the beginning. Once cracks appeared in that fortress, its collapse might not be far off.
That evening, Qingyan felt unusually cheerful.
Hunter Liu had sent over two wild geese, and after stewing them, Qingyan had devoured half of one himself.
After dinner, he strolled in the yard, fed the chickens, and still had some corn kernels in his hand when he noticed two black chickens staring at him intently.
Seeing this, Qiu Henian laughed and said, “Alright, stop staring. Let them live a few more days.”
Qingyan turned to look at him, the corners of his mouth turning down.
Qiu Henian pinched his cheek and said, “Aren’t you tired of poultry meat? Today, I saw a vendor selling fresh leek scraps. Tomorrow, I’ll buy some to make dumplings for you.”
Qingyan asked, “What else besides leeks?”
Qiu Henian replied, “There’s pork and large shrimp.”
Only then did Qingyan’s mouth curl into a smile!
Spoiler for the Next Chapter:
He lifted his head and said, “It’s been almost three months, and you haven’t…,” he hesitated to say those words, so he mumbled past them and continued, “you still say you’re not avoiding me!”
