Chapter Thirty-Four: Pigeon Soup

No one quite knew what the group talked about in the end, but they all parted with laughter. Lin You came down to help, chatting with Banxia as he mopped the floor, “I never knew I had such impressive relatives. From yesterday to today, it’s all felt a little dizzying, not real at all.”

“Good things always have a touch of unreality,” Banxia replied, recalling how even sleeping in bed upstairs last night felt dreamlike.

“Well, at least I get to study with Gansu, and I can come over for meals often. But let me say this upfront—whatever delicious dishes you make for Gansu, you have to save some for me too. You must treat us equally, no favoritism allowed.”

“Do I seem like the kind of person who would play favorites?”

Lin You nodded emphatically. “You absolutely do.”

Banxia pouted. “Gansu will be going on a study tour with his teacher in half a month, and who knows when he’ll be back.”

“So you’ll be apart?”

“It’s just a temporary separation. You wipe down the shelves in a bit, I’ll go buy a pigeon from the market to make soup.”

Banxia chose a pigeon and, remembering there were several people at home, she bought some meat and vegetables before returning. Gansu had not come back yet—no doubt delayed by the large variety of goods. Banxia didn’t dwell on it and began preparing the meal.

Pigeon soup takes time to simmer. Banxia had paid extra for the shopkeeper to clean the pigeon, so once home, she simply rinsed it, blanched it in boiling water with a splash of cooking wine to remove the blood, then washed it again. She placed it in a small clay pot with slices of ginger, goji berries, and red dates, covered it, and set it to simmer over a gentle flame.

She remembered that Mr. Chuan had enjoyed bold flavors yesterday, so she stir-fried chicken with hot peppers for him. She also prepared a milder dish of black fungus with Chinese yam, and braised a fish. Just as the dishes were ready, Gansu returned.

“What perfect timing, you’re back just as dinner is finished,” Lin You said as he brought dishes to the table.

Banxia appeared holding the pigeon soup and another dish, smiling at Gansu as she asked, “You’re back! Are you tired? Go wash up, it’s time to eat.”

“What are you carrying? Let me help.”

“No need, this is pigeon soup for Lin You’s mother. She’s not feeling well and will be staying with us for a couple of days.”

“Then you go upstairs, I’ll go wash my hands.”

When Banxia went upstairs, she found Mrs. Shangzhi sitting on the bed reading, while Chuan Gu and Lin Changshan played chess nearby.

Banxia glanced over—and saw that Mrs. Shangzhi was reading an anatomical manual for coroners, the bloody illustrations disturbingly vivid. She couldn’t help but wonder: Aren’t you worried about how this will affect the baby? Even I can feel the little one inside me trembling in fright.

“Auntie, dinner is ready.”

“Oh, is it dinnertime already? No wonder I’m so hungry. Suddenly I have a craving for spicy pork intestines.”

Banxia smiled awkwardly, glancing at the gory book.

“The doctor said you should eat light for a few days, so I made you pigeon soup.” Banxia lifted the lid of the pot. The pigeon meat was tender, with red dates and goji berries floating on the golden broth, making it especially appetizing.

“Husband, come feed me. I don’t have the strength in my hands.”

Banxia thought: Just now you were holding a book thicker than a brick without any sign of weakness.

Lord Lin was clearly used to this, bustling over to feed his wife without complaint.

“Spineless,” Mr. Chuan muttered under his breath.

“What did you say? Say it again.” Mrs. Shangzhi had evidently heard him.

Without looking back, Mr. Chuan bolted downstairs.

Banxia shook her head. Really, if you can’t keep up with her, you shouldn’t provoke her—now look, you’ve lost all your composure.

Lin You’s mother left early on the third morning. The county office had many affairs to handle, and Magistrate Lin insisted on staying with his wife, but it wasn’t proper to be away too long.

As she was leaving, Mrs. Shangzhi clasped Banxia’s hand, reluctant to part. “Honestly, I think your husband isn’t as good as my son. If you ever divorce, I’ll have him marry you. My son is so obedient, thick-skinned too—if he gives you trouble, just give him a good beating, he can take it, and you won’t feel bad about it.”

With just one sentence she managed to insult them both. Banxia wasn’t surprised to see both Gansu and Lin You’s faces turn black as the bottom of a pot. Magistrate Lin, unable to watch any longer, quickly took Mrs. Shangzhi away. Banxia watched the departing carriages and let out a long sigh of relief.

Mr. Chuan, without hesitation, dragged Lin You away, declaring that Lin You needed to focus on his studies. It was obvious to everyone he was venting his irritation from Mrs. Shangzhi onto Lin You.

At last, only Banxia and Gansu were left in the house.

“They’ve finally all gone,” Gansu said, uncharacteristically.

“Don’t you like having them around?”

“I just like being with you.”

Banxia blushed and murmured, “Me too.”

Gansu spent a week finding Banxia the best suppliers, arranging the deliveries, and visiting each in person with her. Everything was set. Three days before Gansu was to leave, Banxia and Gansu’s shop opened for business.

They didn’t choose a fancy name—just a simple sign hand-painted by Gansu: “Banxia General Store.” They used the most common modern marketing tactic—a grand opening sale: everything at half price. Any single purchase over two hundred coins received a twenty-coin discount. Gansu wrote dozens of flyers by hand, and Banxia hired a few street urchins with small coins to distribute them throughout the city, calling out as they went to draw attention.

It just so happened that opening day was market day. With their extensive promotion and a well-stocked shop, a crowd surged in as soon as the doors opened. A flock of aunties chattered away, asking endless questions, but Banxia answered each with patience. The prices were low and the quality was good; many customers, eager to save those twenty coins, pooled their purchases to reach two hundred, feeling they’d gotten a huge bargain. They went home beaming, recommending the shop to their neighbors.

The shop was packed all morning. Wang Xiaoshan brought the Headmaster, Mr. Chuan, and Duan Chensha to show support. He’d known business would be good, but not this good—the junior brother was clearly not to be underestimated.

The Headmaster, seeing such a lively scene for the first time, joined in selling goods, delighted by the novelty. Banxia worried he might be overexerting himself, but seeing his cheerful mood, she left him be.

At last, by midday, the crowd had thinned. Banxia massaged her smile-weary cheeks and looked with satisfaction at the drawer overflowing with copper coins. She hung up the “Closed for Lunch” sign and poured tea for the guests.

“There were too many people today for me to cook. I’ll book a table at the restaurant next door—let’s all have a simple meal together,” she offered.

“No need to be so formal, sister-in-law,” Wang Xiaoshan replied. “There’s a restaurant opposite, one of my businesses. Why not come to mine today to celebrate the grand opening?”

“That works. I want candied yam, have them prepare it,” the Headmaster instructed, sipping tea.

“Of course, Master. I’ll go arrange it.” Wang Xiaoshan went ahead to the restaurant.

“Master, Uncle Chuan, Brother Duan—you must be tired,” Banxia said.

“It’s actually rather fun. I’ve never done anything like this before,” the Headmaster replied cheerfully.

“I’m fine too, just not used to people haggling over every coin in front of me,” Mr. Chuan muttered, recalling how the women would wrangle endlessly over a single coin—it was exhausting.

“In any case, thank you all. My husband and I are truly grateful,” Banxia said sincerely.

After lunch, Banxia and Gansu returned to the shop, while the others went their separate ways. That evening, Banxia counted the silver coins meticulously, like a squirrel tallying its winter hoard. Gansu couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. Banxia finished and looked up, her eyes shining. “After deducting the cost of goods, we made a net profit of over four taels of silver today!”

“That much?” Gansu was astonished. For opening day, and with everything sold at half price, just breaking even would have been good—he hadn’t expected such a profit. After all, a county magistrate’s monthly salary was only about thirty taels.

“But I doubt business will be this good tomorrow,” Banxia said. “Once we return to regular prices, and since most of our goods aren’t things people need to buy often, business will probably slow down.”

“That’s just as well. I’ll be leaving in a few days. If it stays this busy, you couldn’t handle it alone,” Gansu said, a little worried. “Maybe we should get you a maid to help out.”

“No, we’re just making modest money, and hiring help would eat into that. If I really can’t manage, I’ll hire someone myself. Don’t worry. Has your teacher said when you’ll be leaving?”

“Sometime in the next few days. We’re heading north—taking in the scenery, visiting old friends.”

“Is Brother Duan going with you?”

“No, he’ll stay. The academy gets busy at year’s end, and someone has to oversee things. With me accompanying the Master, Brother Duan can take a break.”

“Will he take the civil service exams next year?”

“He has no interest in officialdom; he’ll likely stay at the academy for life. Eventually, the Headmaster will pass his position to him.”

“That’s not bad—peaceful mountains, clear waters, fewer worries.”

“You don’t want me to become an official, do you?”

“It’s not that. I just worry about how hard you work. Since you’ve been here, you haven’t had a single day to relax. It makes my heart ache.”

“I feel relaxed when I’m with you. Don’t worry, I know my limits.”

“I’m glad. Since you’re going north and it’s getting colder, I’ll buy you some thicker clothes at the tailor’s tomorrow.”

“No need for the trouble. I’ll buy more when we get there.”

“But the weather’s unpredictable. It’s better to be prepared. I should also get some medicine for colds, and there’s still more to buy…” The more Banxia thought, the more she realized she wasn’t ready. She’d planned to wash up and rest, but instead began jotting down a shopping list.

“Leave it for tomorrow. Haven’t you been busy enough today?” Gansu urged.

“I’m fine, let me just finish this list. You go to bed,” Banxia replied without looking up.

The thought of parting soon was something she still hadn’t gotten used to.