The capital city entered August amidst several dreary autumn rains.
The yellowing leaves of the phoenix trees above the small courtyard began to fall in large numbers. Every morning, Ying Xiaoman had to lead Zhi in busily sweeping for quite a while.
A month's rent had passed for the two neighboring houses in River Otter Alley, with everything remaining calm and uneventful. The only strangers who knocked on the Ying family's door this month were peddlers hawking their wares through the streets.
The rental agent punctually arrived at the beginning of August, and the Ying family renewed their lease for a second month.
The Ying family wouldn't set out until the end of August. Ying Xiaoman waited for the Seventh Young Master as agreed.
With their return home imminent, she intensified efforts to nurse her mother back to health, administering medicine twice daily, morning and evening, along with one nourishing medicinal meal. The old servant next door also drank medicine morning and night, and his loud nighttime coughing had diminished considerably.
The old servant appeared to be over sixty, but his constitution was remarkably robust. Several times when Ying Xiaoman came to deliver medicine and couldn't find him, after searching high and low, it turned out he had taken a bamboo broom early in the morning to sweep fallen leaves in the half-foot wide passage between the courtyard walls of the two houses.
The passage was too narrow for anyone to walk through upright; one had to turn sideways and sidle through like a crab.
The long-uncleaned passage was full of fallen leaves, dust, and cobwebs. Ying Xiaoman stood at the entrance with a bowl of medicine and called out crisply, "Stop sweeping, old man, nobody walks through here anyway. Come out and take your medicine!"
The old servant's cloudy eyes turned towards the passage exit, fixing on the young lady's slender figure. He put extra force into his sweep, and with a whoosh—
A large pile of accumulated leaves along with countless dust particles was swept out from the passage end beneath the brick wall.
Ying Xiaoman nimbly jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding it.
"You've got quite the arm strength, old man!" she shouted inside, "Next time give me a heads up, what if the years-old dust had fallen into the medicine bowl?"
The old servant continued sweeping in the passage with a swish-swish sound. Without looking up, he bellowed in a deep voice:
"Your skirt is all dirty! Why are you still standing there? Go home!"
Ying Xiaoman wasn't afraid of his shouting at all.
The old man had fierce-looking features and a loud voice, somewhat resembling her late father. Hearing the seemingly fierce booming voice made her feel a bit close to him.
She waved the medicine bowl towards the passage a few times and called out loudly, "Continue sweeping later, come out and take your medicine first! I'm about to go out."
The old servant tossed aside the bamboo broom and squatted dustily at the edge of the passage to drink the medicine.
Halfway through drinking, without looking up, he asked, "Where are you going?"
Ying Xiaoman let out a surprised "Oh?" He had actually heard?
She squatted beside him and replied, "We're opening a lamb shop. We're going back to our hometown at the end of the month, so rather than sitting idle every day, why not set up a stall to earn some travel money?"
The old servant gulped down the medicine, and it was unclear if he had heard. When he handed back the empty bowl, he wiped his mouth and asked an unrelated question.
"Who are all these young men, staying at my house without greeting me? Why did your family move next door?"
This question was a bit difficult to answer. Ying Xiaoman squatted beside him and gestured, "They are the Seventh Young Master's men. The Seventh Young Master — is someone I know... well, anyway, we know each other. He was worried about my safety, so we switched courtyards."
The old servant's cloudy eyes lifted again, staring at her steadily.
It wasn't clear how much he understood, but suddenly he stretched his lips into a grin, chuckled, and shouted very loudly, "Your sweetheart, eh?"
"..."
Ying Xiaoman: "Old man, lower your voice a bit."
"Which one inside is your sweetheart?"
"..."
The location of this passage was quite good. Both courtyards could hear everything clearly.
It was unclear what the Yan family on the right thought, but in any case, footsteps were heard from the small courtyard on the left, and after a few steps, her adoptive mother appeared, standing at the passage entrance and softly chiding Ying Xiaoman: "What sweetheart, that sounds so improper. What nonsense are you chattering about with the old man?"
Before she could finish speaking, the old servant reacted strongly by standing up and shouting indignantly at the top of his lungs: "Who said I'm blind? I'm not blind!"
Adoptive mother: "..."
Ying Xiaoman: "..."
This was truly a case of having no way to explain clearly. Ying Xiaoman shoved the empty medicine bowl to her mother and simply ran off in a flash.
"I'm going to set up the meat stall!"
Fresh lamb legs were hung on iron hooks, two tall poles were erected, and a banner with five characters reading "Ying Family Lamb Shop" was unfurled. In between busily opening shop and doing business, Ying Xiaoman didn't forget to respond to old customers.
"Yes, something happened at home. We're open for business as usual in August."
"We'll close the shop at the end of the month and return to our hometown for autumn and winter."
"We'll be back next spring. Don't worry, auntie, we're keeping the shop."
When a familiar woman was buying meat, she asked with a smile: "Young miss is going back to her hometown for autumn and winter, you're not going back to get married, are you? Will you really be able to come back next year?"
Ying Xiaoman answered while chopping meat with a steady thud-thud-thud: "I'm going back to tend to my father's grave, not to get married. I'll return to the capital in February next year."
The familiar woman repeatedly said "Good" with a laugh.
"There's no second young miss in the capital as remarkable and capable as you. To be frank, my husband's family has a tribute student nephew, who's doing well in his studies and has a proper appearance too. He's coming to the capital next spring for the imperial examinations, and has already made arrangements to stay at our home, which is only two miles from your meat shop. If Miss Ying hasn't been promised to anyone, next year..."
Ying Xiaoman smiled with pursed lips. Across the street diagonally from West Gate Inner Street, a tall figure was walking towards her in the howling autumn wind that swept up fallen leaves.
She interrupted the well-meaning woman's chatter: "I'm already promised to someone."
The woman walked away with her meat, expressing regret.
The steady chopping sound continued without pause, and the young man wearing casual official robes stood third in line.
When it was Yan Rongshi's turn to stand in front of the meat stall, Ying Xiaoman had just finished wrapping up half a pound of lamb chops for the previous customer. Taking advantage of the moment to wipe her sweat, their gazes met in mid-air and remained entangled for a while without parting.
Ying Xiaoman was the first to notice the steaming meat buns in his arms, and she burst into laughter, her eyes curving into crescents.
"Out buying meat buns?"
"I've had enough of the official dining hall food, so I came out to buy a few meat buns for a change of taste."
Yan Rongshi held a steamer of piping hot meat buns and asked her, "Open for business again?"
"Mm-hmm. Until the end of the month."
"Very good. I'll buy ten pounds of meat."
Ying Xiaoman deftly took down a lamb leg hanging from the iron hook: "Ten pounds of meat to take home in the evening? You'll need to keep it in a cool place during the day. It's freshest when eaten the same day. The meat quality changes after a day."
Amidst the crisp sound of chopping meat, Yan Rongshi said unhurriedly, "Not taking it home, the ten pounds of meat will go to the government office kitchen. To show consideration for the officials working hard on urgent cases, we'll add a dish to tonight's official dining hall meal."
Ying Xiaoman chuckled again. "That's nice."
She weighed the lamb leg and added an extra two pounds of tenderloin.
When people work too hard, eating an extra serving of nourishing lamb meat every day is great for their health.
Yan Rongshi couldn't stay out too long, but before leaving he didn't forget to remind her: "There's been no activity in River Otter Alley recently, but have you encountered any suspicious people trying to strike up conversations with you outside? I've newly prepared two small courtyards in the west of the city, both not far from the meat shop front. I can have Sui Miao take you to have a look."
Ying Xiaoman urged him to go back. "The notice about the two houses in River Otter Alley being confiscated by the government and turned into rental properties is prominently posted at the alley entrance. Who would be foolish enough to come make trouble and wait to be arrested by officials? All the dozens of households in the alley are fine. As for people striking up conversations outside, there were a few..."
Under the gaze of the young man opposite her, she held back a smile and tilted her chin to indicate the distance.
"She just walked away. An old customer who lives nearby, came to inquire about a marriage prospect for her eldest nephew."
Yan Rongshi withdrew his gaze thoughtfully.
"No wonder," he said languidly.
"No wonder what?" Ying Xiaoman asked in surprise.
"No wonder when I was coming over just now, I faintly heard the phrase 'already promised to someone.'"
"...Don't talk nonsense." Ying Xiaoman pretended to be nonchalant as she handed over the heavy package of over ten pounds of meat wrapped in oiled paper.
"I said 'not promised to anyone.' You must have misheard."
A hint of a smile appeared in Yan Rongshi's eyes, but he didn't argue with her, only saying, "Is that so? I must have misheard then."
He still gently reminded her to "be careful when going out" and "pay attention to suspicious people trying to strike up conversations" before taking the oiled paper package and walking towards the diagonal side of the main street, his figure disappearing into the flowing crowd.
Ying Xiaoman, under the pretext of wiping sweat, raised her hand to smooth a strand of long hair, hiding her reddening ear tips behind her black hair.
Of the twenty pounds of fresh lamb meat prepared, twelve pounds were cut and sold at once. She closed up shop and returned home before noon.
As the two-wheeled wooden cart was pushed out, the four Yan family bodyguards sitting at the entrance of the neighboring meat bun shop also stood up, following at a distance.
When turning a corner, Ying Xiaoman gave them an exasperated glance.
Despite being told several times it wasn't necessary, the Seventh Young Master still wouldn't agree to remove the guards. After Yuqing Tower escaped two assassins, he wasn't afraid of being assassinated himself, but was always worried something would happen to her. These past few days, there were always a few tails following her when she went out.
What could possibly happen to her? Was Shopkeeper Fang, locked up in prison and facing life or death, still thinking about her father's fifty taels of silver and trying to send assassins to her place to ask for money?
Even a greedy miser obsessed with money wouldn't do such a thing!
But today was indeed strange. Halfway back to River Otter Lane, she was actually stopped on the street by a stranger.
The few people behind her knew Ying Xiaoman wasn't used to it, so they deliberately kept their distance. The newcomer didn't realize he was being followed, thinking she was alone walking in the small alley. Not particularly concerned about a young lady of about ten years old, he raised his hand to stop her, without even exchanging pleasantries, and asked directly: "Miss Ying of the Ying family, Ying Xiaoman?"
Ying Xiaoman came to an abrupt stop.
She lifted her bamboo hat three inches, carefully examining the newcomer.
He was about forty years old, dressed as a scholar in a blue robe, with a goatee. As he spoke, he kept his hands behind his back, with somewhat of a self-important scholarly air.
"Who are you?" she asked warily.
"Who I am isn't important. What's important is the matter of your father's dying wish to return fifty taels of silver to an old friend at Yuqing Tower, which has gone terribly wrong. Hehe, Miss Ying's father is actually Zhuang Jiu, isn't that right?"
"..."
Ying Xiaoman gave the man a sharp look, then without another word, pushed her cart and started walking.
The man took two steps forward, taking advantage of the narrow alley to block her path with his body, raising his hand to stop the cart.
"Such a young lady, even if you grew up in the countryside and don't know proper etiquette, you can't just not answer and pretend not to see people. This concerns your father's last wish. If you're a filial daughter, you should— Ouch!"
Ying Xiaoman directly rammed into him, pushing him to the side of the road. The cart didn't slow down at all, passing right by the scholar who was clutching his back and crying out in pain.
She left behind one sentence: "Don't block the road. I'm in a hurry to get home."
When the scholar tried to stop her in the narrow alley, he never imagined that the "sweet and innocent, inexperienced, easy to deal with" young lady his master spoke of would react like this.
Clutching his bruised back, his vision blurring, by the time he finally caught his breath, the small cart was long gone.
The middle-aged scholar gritted his teeth and straightened up with difficulty. He had only taken a few steps chasing after the direction of the small cart when he suddenly heard faint footsteps behind him.
The footsteps were so light that he only noticed when they were close behind. The scholar turned around alertly, facing four men standing in surrounding positions in four directions.
"Who sent you here?" the leading robust man asked coldly.
"Let's catch him first and then investigate," said the second man.
A chop to the neck.
The scholar, who had always prided himself on his silver tongue, encountered two groups in a row who wouldn't listen to him speak, not even giving him a chance to open his mouth. His vision went black, and he lost consciousness on the spot.
Not long after Ying Xiaoman returned home, it started drizzling.
Autumn rain brings chill, and all three members of the Ying family put on their newly bought lined clothes. She sat by the open window, using the daylight to record today's income.
The sound of rain washing over the ground filled her ears, accentuating the tranquility deep in the small alley. However, this rare quietness was soon interrupted by noises from next door.
Ying Xiaoman stopped writing, puzzled, and listened carefully.
A few muffled conversations mixed with the sound of rain, followed by a man's whimpering pleas. After just a few sentences, suddenly there was a loud "Ow~", very distinct amidst the rain, the cry cut off midway—someone's mouth had been covered.
It sounded like someone was being beaten next door?
She wondered inwardly, and when she went to deliver medicine to the Old Servant next door as usual that evening, she took a few extra glances around.
The atmosphere in the neighboring small courtyard was unusual today. The doors and windows of the east wing room were tightly closed, with five or six of Yan's men guarding it especially closely.
In the diminishing evening rain, faint whimpering could still be heard from inside the wing room.
Yan's men were unwilling to say much, only mentioning one thing to Ying Xiaoman:
"Don't worry, Miss. The one inside is definitely not an innocent good person. The person behind him is formidable. We've already sent word to Young Master, just waiting for a convenient time late at night to escort the criminal to the Ministry of Justice."
"Oh." Ying Xiaoman heard this vaguely, skirting around that wing room and walking to the narrow door in the northwest corner, opening the latch.
As the Old Servant took the medicine bowl, his cloudy old eyes looked her up and down, and he shouted in a hoarse voice, asking the same question as in the morning: "Which one is your lover?! Point him out to me!"
Ying Xiaoman: "..."
"Don't make trouble, old man." She coaxed and pulled the Old Servant back to sit in his own room.
As the old man sat drinking his medicine by the only old wooden table in the room, Ying Xiaoman, seeing the Old Servant's room for the first time, was shocked.
She saw this Old Servant sweeping the two courtyards with a bamboo broom every day, and thought he was a diligent person who couldn't keep his hands and feet still, like her own mother. She didn't expect that in this north-facing small room where he had lived for decades, the corners and tabletops were covered in dust and grime, as if they hadn't been cleaned for many years.
No wonder he coughs all day. Ying Xiaoman muttered to herself, living in such a dirty room, with dust entering the lungs, how could one not cough?
"Old man, is it that you can't see things up close clearly?"
Taking advantage of the time the Old Servant was drinking his medicine, she opened all the windows to ventilate, grabbed a broom and cloth from the small courtyard, and started helping to clean the room.
While cleaning, she raised her voice and asked: "Old man, don't just focus on sweeping the master's two courtyards, take some time to look at your own room. The table and corners are very dirty! Oh my, dead mice."
She quickly swept out two stiff mouse corpses from the corner.
After sweeping the floor clean in a few strokes, Ying Xiaoman went out to fetch a basin of clean water, and also returned to her own home to bring a few dried loofah sponges, efficiently wiping the table and walls, scrubbing away years of grime.
"Old man, how long have you been using this set of bedding? It's so dirty you can't tell the color anymore, and the edges are full of holes. It can't be used anymore! My family will be returning to our hometown by the Han River soon, and we can't take many things with us. I'll bring you a new set of bedding later."
The Old Servant had finished drinking his medicine and was sitting on the edge of the yellowed old bedding, his two cloudy eyes staring fixedly at the renewed room, not knowing if he could see the difference.
No matter how much Ying Xiaoman explained and gestured, he didn't respond at all, as if he had suddenly become mute.
After talking for a long time without getting a response, Ying Xiaoman poked her head in curiously from the doorway. The Old Servant was sitting on the edge of the bed, his grizzled head nodding up and down, with the sound of even snoring coming from him.
He fell asleep sitting up?! Indeed, he's getting old.
So Ying Xiaoman closed her mouth and quietly cleaned the doors and windows, put the broom and cloth back in their original places, and tiptoed out.
A moment later she returned, carrying a set of soft, warm bedding that was ninety percent new from her family, replacing the old bedding with holes exposing yellowed cotton wadding. She still left quietly.
With a creak, the narrow door of the northwest courtyard was closed as before.
The snoring inside the room stopped. The Old Servant had opened his eyes at some unknown time.
The last bit of bright daylight from the sky shone into the room, illuminating the table by the door that had been scrubbed bright and clean.
"The little girl is unexpectedly kind-hearted," the Old Servant muttered to himself.
"Don't know which of the five or six living outside is her lover. It would be a shame to kill them."
The sky darkened. After nightfall, the rain suddenly intensified.
The entire Capital City was shrouded in misty autumn rain.
Inside the tightly closed east wing room, the middle-aged scholar was tied up like a dumpling, his mouth gagged with linen, lying miserably on the ground.
The self-important air he had when stopping Ying Xiaoman at noon had long since disappeared. In the dark room, the scholar looked anxious, tossing and turning restlessly.
Having lived in peaceful times for too long, he unexpectedly stumbled, and couldn't even withstand half a day of interrogation before revealing the master he served.
Of course, he wasn't a fool. Gritting his teeth, he refused to reveal more, only admitting to being "a strategist under Prime Minister Zheng" and saying "you've caught the wrong person," at least stopping the life-threatening torture.
But it was a fact that he had stopped Ying Xiaoman on the street to question her. His words had also mentioned "Yuqing Tower" and "Zhuang Jiu".
Ying Xiaoman was a witness. Would she truthfully tell Yan Rongshi about his questioning since it involved her own father?
Damn it, Yan Seventh Young Master is the young lady's lover, she will definitely tell him.
But what if Yan Rongshi knows?
Fortunately, in this misfortune, Ying Xiaoman didn't listen to him speak, and he hadn't had the chance to reveal the true intention of finding her today.
Ying Xiaoman's involvement in the Yuqing Tower case, and the "suspected lack of evidence" regarding her father Ying Dashuo and Zhuang Jiu, was no secret in the Capital City.
As long as he stubbornly insisted on being "a strategist under Prime Minister Zheng," claiming he had heard fragments about the Yuqing Tower case and, out of curiosity, sought to question the young lady involved.
He would then firmly maintain that "it's all a misunderstanding" and "wrongful arrest," so Prime Minister Zheng would naturally rescue him...
In the dark room, the scholar's anxious expression eased considerably. He became more confident and closed his eyes, feigning sleep.
Amidst the constant patter of autumn rain on the long eaves, the footsteps and brief conversations of the guards outside could be heard from time to time. Faint rustling sounds also came from the corner of the room.
At first, the scholar thought it was insects or rats and paid no attention.
But suddenly, the subtle sounds in the room grew louder. There was a click.
The scholar started and opened his eyes. Lying on the floor in pitch darkness, he couldn't see much. He only saw the large five-drawer wooden cabinet against the wall open by itself.
A dark figure slowly emerged from the open cabinet door.
"Mmph! Mmph! Mmph!" The scholar cried out in terror. But with his mouth gagged by cloth, only muffled whimpers escaped.
The shadowy figure moved with extremely light footsteps, approaching the scholar silently.
Bending down, it revealed a pair of cloudy eyes with white cataracts.
Staring at the terrified scholar on the ground as if looking at a dead rat in the corner.
Extending a rough hand, it gripped the scholar's neck directly and twisted with force.
Autumn rain splashed from the long eaves onto the ground.
In the endless sound of rain, Ying Xiaoman carried the sleepy Zhi to the room for her adoptive mother to lull to sleep, while he set up a rain shelter in the small courtyard, busily preparing fresh meat for tomorrow morning's market stall.
In the neighboring small courtyard, several members of the Yan family held the confession statement signed and admitted by the scholar, discussing in low, solemn voices, occasionally glancing at the door, waiting for the Ministry of Justice to escort the prisoner.
The side room was silent.