Chapter 2: The Impending Rainstorm

The old shopkeeper lowered his chin, lifted his eyelids, and looked at He Shanyue: "Hah, looking to raise the price?"

He Shanyue smiled again: "Now, don't say that—I draw the patterns, my mother embroiders them, and you’ve been buying them for two years now. Every two months, three coppers for a square embroidery pattern, and the price has never gone up. The girl from Chen’s shop went to the county seat last month to look at fabrics and said that square fan patterns like these can sell for eight to ten coppers. That’s quite a bit more money, so she invited me to go to the county seat with her to sell them. She offered me six coppers, and she’d keep the rest to cover her travel expenses."

He Shanyue smiled and took a handkerchief out of her rattan basket; inside the handkerchief was wrapped some sugar-spun pastry: "She just got back from the county today and even brought me some sugar-spun pastry!"

The old shopkeeper squinted, glanced at He Shanyue, leaned forward, and picked up the embroidery patterns on the counter to examine them.

Qiu Erniang secretly tugged at the corner of He Shanyue’s sleeve.

He Shanyue blinked and patted her mother’s hand reassuringly.

After a long while, having looked over the twenty or so embroidery hoops, the old shopkeeper put his hand down, tucked his chin in, and continued to look at He Shanyue with the whites of his eyes, a smile that wasn't quite a smile on his face: "Hmm, I remember you. The patterns are good, but the embroidery work is just so-so—Chen’s gives you six, I’ll give you five. Do we have a deal?"

Before Qiu Erniang could even think it over, she heard He Shanyue say in a clear, steady voice: "Deal!"

The old shopkeeper chuckled.

The mother and daughter immediately found an empty spot. He Shanyue used scissors to dismantle the bamboo frames, while Qiu Erniang buried her head in embroidering the lettering, using a fire-starter to burn off loose threads and hide the stitches. The two worked with tacit understanding, and in less than two hours, the transaction was complete. A hundred or so copper coins went "clink-clank" into He Shanyue’s purse.

As the mother and daughter walked out of Shen’s, a clerk from the shop crowded over and laughed: "That little girl is sharp; the fledgling has outsmarted the old goose—that old bearded man at Chen’s is such a stingy miser, he’d never part with six coppers!"

The old shopkeeper raised his eyelids: "If you can see it clearly, do you think your ancestors couldn't?"

He pushed the finished floral patterns toward the clerk: "The embroidery is about the same; what matters is whose pattern is more beautiful—take a look, see if you can spot the trick?"

The clerk squinted and scratched his head: "I can't tell, I just think they look brighter than everyone else's."

The old shopkeeper shook his head, his voice drawn out: "It’s not brightness, it’s spirit—look at this little shepherd boy embroidered here, look right here, hidden in this spot. See it?"

The clerk stretched his neck.

The old shopkeeper tapped the counter and said: "This pattern is called 'Farming.' The main focus is the rice blossoms in the front. The shepherd boy is as small as a thumbnail. Other shops don't embroider them like this; if you can vaguely make out the hat the shepherd boy is wearing, that’s already considered good. But her shepherd boy is alive! He’s standing by the river skipping stones. Here, and here—do you see these white, indigo-tinted splashes of water?"

The entire scene suddenly came to life.

The embroidery was like a painting—no, no, it was as if it were real!

The clerk let out an "Oh."

The old shopkeeper carefully put the embroidery patterns away. The people in this town were short-sighted and didn't know quality, but the nobles in Suzhou and Songjiang prefectures had an eye for it.

Ten coppers?

The old shopkeeper sneered inwardly.

Last month, an antique painting studio in Suzhou Prefecture paid eighteen coppers a piece and bought every single one of this mother and daughter’s round fan patterns!

Once they were out of Shen’s, Qiu Erniang couldn't hold back her question: "When did you ask Chen’s to inquire about prices in the county?"

The rattan basket was needed to hold meat, so He Shanyue wrapped her scissors and fire-starter in a cloth and tucked them close to her body.

"I didn't ask Chen’s. Chen’s can't match Shen’s price, so there’s no point in doing free labor." He Shanyue looked around as she walked, her gaze sweeping over the stalls one by one, finally locking onto the figure of her little sister, Caitou, at the sugar figurine stall.

"Then how did you know a fan cover costs ten coppers in the county?" Qiu Erniang frowned.

He Shanyue said as she walked: "I didn't know, I guessed—Uncle Lin the Fifth sells lotus pods; he sends two for a copper to the town, but two coppers for one in the county. I just guessed based on that price."

Qiu Erniang opened her mouth: "And the sugar-spun pastry? It really looks like a pastry from the county."

"Oh, I paid an extra five coppers to have the clerk at Chen’s buy it for me from the county. That’s what I was doing when I first arrived at Chen’s." He Shanyue grabbed the back of Caitou’s neck, handed one of the sugar-spun pastries wrapped in the handkerchief to her sister, and gave the other to her mother.

Qiu Erniang didn't take the pastry: "It’s too sweet, my back teeth ache and I can't eat it. You two eat it."

He Shanyue gave both pastries to her sister: "However, the old shopkeeper at Shen’s probably didn't believe a word I said."

"Huh?" Qiu Erniang didn't understand.

"If he had believed me, why would he say 'Chen’s gives six, we’ll give five' and then ask if I wanted to sell?" He Shanyue smiled and patted her sister’s head. "At the very least, he should have offered the same price as Chen’s."

Qiu Erniang was even more confused: "Then why did he raise the price for us?"

He Shanyue raised an eyebrow dismissively: "The premise of a deal is that you have what I need. If our embroidery wasn't good, even if I begged, cheated, sang, and danced, he wouldn't have fallen for it. In the end, he wants our embroidery work."

Or perhaps it wasn't that he wanted it, but that someone else did.

He Shanyue didn't pursue the thought; she currently had no ability to leave Taobao Town.

Although Qiu Erniang didn't understand, her gaze toward her eldest daughter was filled with pride and gratification.

Her eldest daughter was precocious, standing out among the children in the fields. She even felt that Da-nan was smarter than Scholar Huang’s son, often saying things she couldn't understand but found deeply impressive!

"If only you were a boy," Qiu Erniang sighed.

Qiu Erniang looked down, listening to the "clink-clank" of the copper coins hitting each other in the purse.

Her daughter couldn't become a son, but the embroidery patterns could turn into money.

"I'll listen to you, let's go buy some meat first. Then we'll go to the market to buy some paper and brushes for your father. Oh, and once autumn passes, the frost will come; we should buy your father a pair of leather boots, and you and Shuiguang each need a pair of cotton shoes."

Qiu Erniang began to calculate.

And what about you?

Everyone gets a reward, but what about you, who ruined your eyes and hands day and night over these patterns?

He Shanyue lowered her head, a sudden flash of anger rising within her.

"We'll hide the rest of the silver when we get back. Let's work a bit harder. Your father will need money for his imperial examinations in the future—once your father becomes a scholar, we can buy some land and two oxen for plowing. Then our family’s life will truly start to get better!"

Qiu Erniang sighed with satisfaction.

Forget it—He Shanyue took a few deep breaths and told herself to just forget it.

Looking down, she saw her sister chewing the sugar-spun pastry like a little hamster, her cheeks moving, as if she were starving.

He Shanyue asked: "Didn't you have the five-thread noodles?"

He Shuiguang immediately pouted: "I didn't get to! The morning stalls at the market close after noon!"

He Shanyue rubbed Caitou’s head again and smiled: "We'll come eat them next time."

As evening approached, the three of them walked toward the water well alley in the east. The setting sun stretched their three shadows long, and as the sun set and night fell, they slowly faded into the boundless darkness.

He Shanyue walked in front, with Qiu Erniang holding He Shuiguang’s hand behind her.

The bricks of the alley cut off the bustle of the market. In the silence, He Shanyue suddenly caught a faint, strange sound coming from behind.

He Shanyue turned around, and a heavy club struck her head!

A light, slow, dull "thud" echoed in the small alley, dragged out as long as the shadows by the chaotic, dancing night.

In the narrow alley, save for the ownerless rattan basket.

There was nothing else.

(End of chapter)