Chapter 11: Memories of the Past

Setting aside the matter of the paintings, Master Sun Wu chatted a bit more about the profit-sharing, his tone level: "Zhu Siming’s paintings are hard to forge; eight taels per painting. If you have any unreleased works by Shen Huaizan or Zhou Bingshan, I’ll give you five taels for each."

The time for seeking out the Cheng family and throwing around large sums of silver to pave the way had already passed.

He Shanyue did not care whether it was eight taels or five.

Master Sun Wu turned to retrieve a prepared contract: "If there are no issues, let’s sign the contract first."

He Shanyue read through the terms carefully, one by one. They weren't particularly long, so she picked up a brush, signed her name, and pressed her thumbprint.

The servant behind Master Sun Wu stood listlessly, head bowed, kicking at pebbles.

After signing, He Shanyue picked up the contract to read it through one more time. Suddenly, from behind her, there came a violent sound of fabric rustling and a muffled "mmph-mmph" from within a mouth. Immediately following, a guard dragged a thin, pale youth past, while another guard followed behind carrying a brazier, hurrying past the enclosure of green bamboo.

Inside the brazier, the charcoal emitted a blue-green flame, the inner core wrapped in orange-red fire.

He Shanyue’s hand holding the contract paused slightly.

Master Sun Wu noticed this keenly. He followed He Shanyue’s gaze, and the next moment, his hand flicked repeatedly inside his sleeve, signaling her to "leave quickly."

The person carrying the brazier moved with swift feet.

He Shanyue lowered her eyes and handed the contract to Master Sun Wu: "There is nothing else, though perhaps the time limit might need a bit of leeway. The Cheng family’s roads are many and winding; I dare not set a fixed date for the delivery."

Master Sun Wu nodded: "That is only natural."

He Shanyue took her leave of Master Sun Wu. Just as her footsteps stepped out of the green bamboo enclosure, the servant beside Master Sun Wu muttered: "We’ve been bumping heads and feet together for six or seven years, eating and sleeping in the same place, yet we still sign a contract for business. How distant..."

Master Sun Wu continued grinding malachite pigment: "Only by doing it this way will she feel at ease."

The first time he met He Shanyue was on a snowy day in a back alley of Jinling Prefecture.

Traveling performers had set up a tent with grayish-white tarps. Gongs and drums were deafening, the sounds of cymbals and suonas intertwining.

The tent held nothing but eye-catching novelties: either "jar-people" with heads as large as urns but legs like infants, or "monkey-fish" covered in brown ape fur—all sorts of bizarre circus acts.

The common folk lived bitter lives and could only use more strange and cruel things as an antidote for joy.

In the midst of this, the troupe leader dragged out a girl of eleven or twelve. Her cheeks and lips were painted bright red, and powder was smeared haphazardly on her face, making her look as white as a ghost.

Beside the girl sat a burning charcoal brazier.

The troupe leader pried out a small, round, glowing-red piece of charcoal and laughed at the top of his lungs: "Performing 'Swallowing the Sunset' for everyone!"

The troupe leader pried open the girl’s mouth and used long iron tongs to shove the charcoal into it, quick and ruthless.

The onlookers let out a unified burst of laughter.

In the past, he would not have cared for such things. Having crawled out from the dregs of society himself, these sufferings were to him like birds in the forest, fish in the water, grass on the ground, and rain falling from the heavens—ordinary, common, and devoid of interest.

But for the first time ever, that day, his footsteps stopped.

The red-hot charcoal was shoved into the girl’s mouth. Wiping away those bright red pigments, one could see that the girl’s features and bone structure were incredibly beautiful. Her entire face, tilted upward, looked like an exquisite twelve-pane folding fan.

Such a beautiful girl, yet now her head was tilted high, her mouth wide open, her jawbone forced apart like a misaligned set of building blocks.

She was disheveled, broken, deathly silent, and exhausted.

But her eyes—her eyes were terrifyingly bright, like a beautiful carp that had swum into a shallow puddle. Once given the chance to touch bottom with its tail fins, it would surely leap, showing everyone its glowing scales and its back, sharp as a curved blade.

He was inexplicably held back by those eyes. He waited until the ridiculous "Swallowing the Sunset" ended, went to the backstage, and sought out the person in charge: "How much for that 'Swallowing the Sunset'?"

The person in charge acted as if he had finally caught a sucker who knew quality: "Her? She’s a beauty! She hasn't grown up yet, but once she blossoms, I can sell her to a brothel for at least this much—"

The man held up a palm.

"Five taels?" He knew it was impossible, but he asked anyway.

The man spat on the ground: "Pah! Fifty taels!"

He turned to leave.

The man called him back: "Hey, hey, hey! Ten taels! Ten taels and she’s yours! Take her back and do whatever you want! Such a pretty girl, buy her and take her virginity!" He leaned in, his expression lewd: "To sell her for a good price, I haven't let anyone touch her for a year! Including myself—if she weren't a virgin, you could come back tomorrow and I'd exchange her for you."

He remained expressionless: "Five taels, not a single copper more."

The man thought for a moment, like someone clearing out long-stagnant stock: "Fine, fine, fine! You’re a stubborn bastard, aren't you! Take her, take her!"

After he brought the girl back to the antique shop, he realized why the circus owner was willing to drop the price from fifty taels to five—the girl had been running a high fever for who knows how many days. Wiping away the rouge and lipstick, her entire face was flushed with an unnatural heat, and her hands and legs were trembling. When Wang Erniang gave her a light push from behind, she drifted away like cotton.

A beautiful carp that was about to die.

A waste of his five taels of silver.

That day, his sudden kindness was only worth five taels.

Not a single copper more.

The antique shop had to open; he, Erniang, and Old Lu had to eat; the backlog of paintings had to be sold. He had no time to continue investing in a five-tael kindness.

"Niang, leave her be," he told Wang Erniang. "If she can live, she lives. If she can't, wrap her in the paintings we can't sell and throw her at the door of the Huang family antique shop across the street. If she can annoy that old yellow dog, she’ll have repaid my kindness."

Wang Erniang wiped her eyelids upward, not letting the tears fall, and cursed: "Son of a bitch, always giving me trouble, damn it all."

The next morning, the girl’s fever had actually broken.

The small backyard was filled with a foul medicinal smell.

He noticed the silver bracelet Wang Erniang had always worn was gone. He remained silent. His kindness at the time was only worth five taels, not a penny more, but he couldn't stop others from being kind.

"When I have money, I'll buy you a gold one," he said after a long silence.

On the fourth day, the girl finally woke up, and her waking was accompanied by the crisp sound of a porcelain bowl shattering.

"You little bastard! Are you afraid I'm trying to poison you to death!?"

Wang Erniang’s voice was like a booming bell: "Do you know how much a bowl of this costs?! Damn it, you really are a troublesome little brat! I’m done taking care of you!"

Then, Wang Erniang rushed out of the courtyard, hands on her hips, spitting and roaring at him: "Old Wu, you picked her up, you take care of her! I’ve been staying up all night looking after her, and the moment the little brat opens her eyes, she knocks the medicine bowl over! Even if the Heavenly King himself came, or Lei Zhenzi arrived, I’m not looking after her anymore!"

There is another update later.

(End of chapter)