Seventh Young Master sat by the window, turning his head at the sound.
On the low square table near the window rested a troublesome ivory fan. The fan was open, revealing a small red seal at the end of the ribs: "Yan."
Now, whenever Ying Xiaoman looked at this fan, her eyelid would twitch. The ivory fan was no longer just an expensive item worth fifty or sixty strings of cash in her eyes, but had become a source of anxiety.
Even a clay figure has some earthly nature, and even a rabbit will bite when provoked.
"Give me the fan," she negotiated with Seventh Young Master. "We won't take it to the new home. I'll throw it in the river tonight, let it travel by water."
Seventh Young Master laughed out loud, put away the ivory fan, and stood up to pull her to sit down.
"Calm down a bit."
Ever since Zhi had drunk sheep's milk here once, she had somehow decided that the square table in the west room was the designated milk-drinking spot. She would only come here to drink, and the milk pouch was hanging by the window. Seventh Young Master took an empty cup and poured half a cup of sheep's milk for Ying Xiaoman.
"Drink some milk to calm your nerves. Why blame the fan for people's mistakes?"
Ying Xiaoman held the cup with both hands, slowly sipping twice, the troubled expression not leaving her brow.
Seventh Young Master took the ivory fan, gently rubbed it with his fingertips, and deftly opened it with a swoosh, revealing the smooth, pristine surface under the lamplight.
"Top-quality craftsmanship, a flawless all-ivory fan surface, market price over fifty strings of cash. Such a finely crafted beautiful object would be a waste to throw in the water. Would you like me to sell it for you?"
Ying Xiaoman was caught off guard, choked on a mouthful of milk, and asked while covering her mouth and coughing, "You can find a buyer to sell it?"
Seventh Young Master had been casually opening and closing the folding fan, but noticing her current state, he took a slight breath. The fan in his hand closed with a swoosh, his gaze shifting to the window as he quickly stood up to find a clean cloth. "There's milk on your mouth."
As he handed over the cloth, he added an extra reminder, "In the future, don't talk while drinking milk."
Ying Xiaoman muttered, "I don't usually drink milk. It's only because you poured me a cup."
Seventh Young Master: "..."
Ying Xiaoman took the cloth and used the bronze mirror by the window to wipe clean the remaining milk around her lips. When she was about to drink more, the milk cup was taken away and replaced with a cup of hot tea.
"It was my mistake. Drink tea instead," Seventh Young Master sighed, lifting his own cup to drink first. "Clear tea is good, it quenches thirst, calms nerves, and reduces internal heat. Finish it before we talk."
Ying Xiaoman reluctantly took a sip of the bitter tea.
They continued their previous conversation.
"With the right connections, selling it won't be difficult," Seventh Young Master started casually opening and closing the folding fan again. "There are plenty of families in the Capital City who aren't afraid of the Yan Family of the Marquis of Xingning, who have power, influence, and spare money, and who would enjoy watching the drama unfold. If you dare to sell, there will be someone who dares to buy."
These words made Ying Xiaoman's expression relax. "You know such families? Help me sell the fan, and I'll thank you generously."
Seventh Young Master's slender fingers were now idly playing with the pebbles in the porcelain bowl, creating ripples. He said leisurely, "I know more than one or two such families. How does Xiaoman plan to thank me?"
Ying Xiaoman thought seriously for a moment, then suddenly realized something and put on a stern face: "How many times have you promised this now? I haven't seen a single coin yet. Sell the fan first, then come for your reward. I keep my word, and you should too."
Seventh Young Master laughed softly. His voice had always been soothing and clear, like a mountain spring, but now it sounded like a gentle breeze caressing one's face, or like the ripples in the water bowl.
"I'll keep my word. Want to pinky swear?"
"Only Zhi's age group needs to pinky swear."
Ying Xiaoman said disdainfully, "I'm already sixteen, don't treat me like a child just because you're a few years older. Let me see how the wound on your hand is doing. — Don't hide your left hand in your sleeve, put it on the table and open it."
As the medicinal pack was opened, the smell of herbs filled the room. During the process of changing the dressing, they brought up the topic of the officials patrolling outside.
Seventh Young Master asked in detail about their clothing, accessories, and the engraving pattern on the sword hilt.
"From what you're saying, it's almost certainly the attire of my good friend Eleventh Young Master's personal guards. Xiaoman, do you remember the secret code I arranged with my friend?"
"I do," Ying Xiaoman said while bandaging. "I'll go out later to find them and check your secret code. But I want to discuss something with you first."
Seventh Young Master was somewhat surprised. "Haven't we already discussed how to deal with the ivory fan?"
"It's not about the fan, it's a bigger matter. It concerns our Ying family's long-term plans in the Capital City," Ying Xiaoman's tone carried a hint of caution and solemnity.
"Keep it from my mother for now. She might not agree with what I'm discussing with you today."
Seventh Young Master's gaze swept over her, noting her serious expression and tightly pressed lips.
He tucked away the scattered amusement in his eyes, sat up straight, and promised, "As long as I can help, I'll do my best within my capabilities."
On her way home, Ying Xiaoman had been thinking the whole time.
Doctor Li had advised her to take over a meat shop, confidently telling her that her shop would definitely do good business, but Doctor Li himself hadn't explained clearly why the business would be good.
Taking over a shop was a big deal, involving the Ying family's savings accumulated over many years. She wanted to ask Seventh Young Master, a local expert in the Capital City, for his opinion.
Seventh Young Master turned up the oil lamp on the table and closed the windows. Under the bright lamplight, the two sat opposite each other by the window with a sense of gravity.
From outside the half-closed door came the sound of washing pots and pans, along with Zhi's clear voice.
Not wanting her adoptive mother to hear, Ying Xiaoman lowered her voice and asked, "Have you seen others kill fish before?"
"..."
Seventh Young Master was clearly taken aback, even pausing his idle fiddling with the pebbles. "I have."
"Seventh Young Master, I'll kill a fish in front of you. See if there's any difference between how I do it and how others do it. After watching me kill a fish, would you want to be a repeat customer? Would you be willing to pay ten more coins than the neighboring stall just to wait for me to kill a fish?"
"..." Seventh Young Master wore an expression between amusement and exasperation.
After a moment of silence, he picked up the oil lamp and stood up. "Let's go to the small courtyard. I'll watch you kill the fish."
*
Living by the river, close to the fish market, there were always fresh fish at home.
Ying Xiaoman scooped out a fresh fish from the tank and slammed it onto the chopping board.
Her rosy lips held a thin willow-leaf knife two feet and three inches long. She raised her fair wrist, tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, tied her hair back tightly with a hair ribbon to reveal her smooth forehead, and her gaze sharpened as she focused on the live fish on the board.
She killed the fish at the speed she usually used when doing business in the fish market.
With one swift cut, she gutted the fish, held down its head, and with a gentle turn of the knife tip, scooped out the internal organs from the bloodied cavity, piling them to the side.
With a few swift motions, she scaled and deboned the fish, removing the head and tail. Focusing on the most tender middle section, she wielded her willow-leaf thin blade, its cold glint reflecting in the light. A rapid series of chops rang out on the cutting board, the knife moving so fast it left afterimages in the lamplight. Slice after slice of snow-white fish sashimi was arranged in a petal-like pattern on a porcelain plate.
With a dull thud, Ying Xiaoman tossed the sharp knife back onto the cutting board.
Discarding the useless innards, scales, and bones on the ground, she placed the fish head and tail in a bag. She carelessly washed the blood from her hands in clean water, then lifted the porcelain plate with both hands, presenting the platter of snow-white fish sashimi to Seventh Young Master with an expectant look on her face.
"It's ready. Seventh Young Master, tell me honestly. If you were a customer at the fish market, and the shop next door charged twenty copper coins while I charged thirty, would you be willing to pay ten extra coins to become a regular at my shop?"
Seventh Young Master exhaled deeply as he took the plate of sashimi.
In just the blink of an eye, a five-pound live fish had been reduced to a pile of bones. Blood-stained jade hands wielding a knife like the wind – it was just killing a fish, yet somehow it managed to evoke the phrase "heart-stopping."
Fortunately, as Ying Xiaoman set down her knife, the soft gleam returned to her dark eyes. They sparkled brightly as she awaited his response.
"I'd definitely become a regular at your shop," Seventh Young Master said, cradling the plate of fish sashimi as they walked side by side into the main room.
Ying Xiaoman found two pairs of chopsticks. They each tasted a piece of the smooth, tender sashimi, and she popped a small piece into the mouth of little Zhi, who had come bouncing over. "Why?" she asked.
Seventh Young Master raised his chopsticks to savor the sashimi. His slightly upturned, peach blossom eyes narrowed as he carefully pondered the tingling sensation that had suddenly come over him moments ago.
He quickly found two fitting descriptors: "Rare and thrilling."
"A delicate hand wielding a white blade, a rosy face splashed with blood. People in the Capital City don't lack money; what they lack is this kind of rare thrill."
Ying Xiaoman pondered this thoughtfully. "I see. Thank you."
At last, she understood what Doctor Li had been struggling to explain all afternoon.
As she chewed the smooth, springy fish sashimi, she thought aloud: "So if I keep up this fish-killing business for a while, I should get a lot of repeat customers? The business will flourish?"
"The business will flourish. It's just that the profit margin is a bit thin."
"What about opening a butcher shop that slaughters pigs and sheep and skins animals?"
Seventh Young Master paused mid-bite, then shot her a knowing, wry glance.
"So this is what the Ying family's long-term plan for the Capital City boils down to. All that talk about the fish business nearly threw me off. A butcher shop has better profits. If it's you, young lady, wielding the knife to slaughter pigs and sheep and skin animals..."
His mind instantly conjured up an image of the beautiful young woman before him, a willow-leaf thin blade clenched between her rosy lips, taking down pigs and sheep, her knife flashing in and out...
Rare, thrilling, spine-tingling.
"Choose a good location, and you'll have customers flocking in droves. North of Dongming Bridge, east of the inner west street of the city – it's a bustling area with many residents, and the land prices aren't too high. If someone's offering a storefront there, it's worth considering."
Ying Xiaoman smiled slightly and picked up a piece of sashimi for him.
A butcher shop in the north of the city could work.
Discussing matters with Seventh Young Master was reliable.
She pondered to herself that after they moved, she might be able to bring up the matter of revenge with Seventh Young Master. If he agreed to help, he would undoubtedly be a great asset.
If the two of them successfully exacted revenge together, they could quietly wait for things to blow over, and then consider the long-term plan of taking over a butcher shop in the north of the city.
As the hour of the Pig began, the sky was filled with stars.
Ying Xiaoman took the sleepy-eyed Zhi out for a walk.
Four or five unfamiliar, sturdy men in dark blue robes that almost blended into the night were crouched at both ends of Tongluo Alley. They hadn't been there when she entered the alley in the evening. They didn't speak, but their eyes flashed like hawks', occasionally sweeping over those entering and leaving the alley.
Ying Xiaoman's excuse for taking Zhi out at night was to fetch water.
On their way back, the gazes at the entrance of the alley were still fixed intently on them, but no one spoke first. She ignored the stares and only lowered her head to speak to Zhi as they passed one of the men, "Little one, has Eleventh Young Master sobered up?"
Zhi obediently replied, "Mm-hmm!"
The sturdy man crouching by the wall, upon hearing this, showed an excited expression. He quickly caught up to them, following behind, and responded in a low voice, "Eleventh Young Master is dead drunk in the wine vat. Has Seventh Young Master sobered up?"
Ying Xiaoman's footsteps faltered.
The code phrase matched. It was precisely those four words: "dead drunk in the wine vat."
Without turning her head, she said, "Come at night," and led Zhi back into the house.
After nightfall, when all was quiet save for the occasional frog croak from a puddle, Ying Xiaoman opened the courtyard gate in the darkness.
Zhi had long since gone to bed.
The sturdy men who had been waiting entered the small courtyard in single file, taking up well-trained positions to guard various spots. After checking that there were no irregularities, the lead guard turned back to escort their master.
Moments later, seven or eight guards entered, surrounding a man in brocade robes.
The man's attire was similar to that worn for visiting the ghost market – he wore a hood and cloak, covered from head to toe. His voice was cold and sharp, but he didn't sound very old.
"Is Seventh Young Master here?" he asked.
Ying Xiaoman countered, "Eleventh Young Master?"
The man whose face was hidden remained motionless and didn't respond.
The night wind lifted the edge of his hood, revealing a demon mask worn underneath, concealing his entire face except for a pair of narrow, gleaming eyes.
The visitor had only asked about "Seventh Young Master" upon entering and then fell silent. At first, he stood still in the pitch-black courtyard, his gaze sweeping over the tall shadow cast by the oil lamp in the west room. Then, with his hands behind his back, he strode quickly towards the room.
The burly guards crowded around Eleventh Young Master, ushering him into the main room first, leaving Ying Xiaoman, the actual host, squeezed outside.
Her adoptive mother, hearing the commotion, had just emerged from her own room, but quickly retreated, frightened by the room full of sword-bearing men.
Ying Xiaoman had seen plenty of noble folk in the Capital City and was familiar with their self-important, arrogant attitudes towards others.
This Eleventh Young Master who had sought them out didn't bark orders or show obvious disdain for their humble household like Young Master Yan, but his complete indifference was apparent from head to toe.
Ying Xiaoman mused to herself that this friend of Seventh Young Master, while having well-trained subordinates, was quite arrogant himself. Arrogant to the bone, in fact.
Her footsteps halted at the entrance of the dimly lit main hall. She glanced towards the west, where the illuminated western room cast the silhouettes of two figures sitting opposite each other. Turning on her heel, under the watchful gaze of everyone in the hall, she entered her adoptive mother's room.
Of course, her adoptive mother couldn't sleep and was sitting on the kang bed, ears perked to catch any sound.
Unlike Ying Xiaoman, her adoptive mother's thoughts were focused on another matter tonight.
"Has someone finally come from Seventh Young Master's house?"
The adoptive mother sighed with relief, muttering a prayer: "It's about time they came. Oh, and remember, he still owes us four strings of cash that he hasn't repaid. Child, keep an eye on him tonight and don't let him weasel out of the debt."