Shortly after the Grain in Ear season passed, Bianliang City had already turned into a steamer. The willow leaves at the alley entrance hung limp and curled under the scorching sun, while the cicadas' cries drowned in the sweltering air—hot enough to fry an egg on the bluestone pavement.
As dusk approached, Doukou leaned against the dripping eaves of Shen's Noodle Shop, carrying a drowsy child in a back sling. Fanning herself vigorously with a palm-leaf fan, she wiped the sweat from her forehead and glanced at the ink-dark clouds gathering in the western sky. She called out to Tao, who sat weaving an exam basket on the doorstep, "Look, this evening rain is just what we need. A good downpour will cool the ground, and Brother Chuan will have a much fresher time for his exams tomorrow."
Tao, her hair tied in a matron's bun, looked up with a smile. "Absolutely! I’ve been longing for rain these past few days. Brother Chuan’s been studying indoors, drenched in sweat—almost cooked alive." Her fingers danced deftly as she wove a diamond pattern into the fine bamboo strips.
Doukou moved closer and sat beside her, eyeing the basket. The fan stirred a breeze as she remarked, "Why bother making it yourself? You could just buy one from the market."
"The ones sold outside are too crude," Tao replied, snipping off the excess bamboo. "It’s no trouble for me. Besides, there’s hardly anyone left at home to care for—just Brother Chuan now..."
Her words sank heavily into the twilight, and Doukou fell silent.
As the sunset faded and the evening breeze cooled, years had passed, and many families in the alley had come and gone. Doukou and Ding Wushi had bought a house in the outer city, hiring two maids to manage the household and care for their children while she shuttled daily between the inner and outer districts.
Ding Wushi had risen to become the manager of Shen’s Fast Food Shop, bustling about from dawn till dusk. Doukou, meanwhile, had picked up some abacus skills and now worked as the shop’s accountant.
Douhua had married and returned with her husband to run the old tofu shop in East Willow Lane, supplying tofu to Shen’s establishments. Though life was hard, they never lacked for food or clothing.
Living nearby, Doukou often visited her sister, though they still bickered constantly.
The Gu family, of course, had long since moved out after partnering with Shen’s to brew liquor. Not only had they repaid their debts, but they’d also acquired a spacious new shopfront.
The child in the sling suddenly squirmed, and Doukou quickly untied him, cradling him gently. Noticing Tao’s lingering melancholy as she worked on the basket, Doukou sighed. "Water flows downward, but people strive upward. Even families must part ways as they grow. But as long as everyone thrives, what’s there to grieve?"
Tao finished the basket, trimming the last stray stalks and wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "You’re right. I just miss everyone sometimes."
Doukou patted her shoulder and asked wistfully, "This year... will Sister Xiang still not return?"
"No. They say the regent dowager of the Liao Kingdom died, and the princes are slaughtering each other worse than roosters in a cockfight. The Liao Kingdom weakens by the year, and the Jin have seized the chance to attack. Word is they’ve advanced like splitting bamboo, nearly reaching the capital. Right after New Year’s, His Majesty issued several decrees, even recalling General Guo from the campaign against Jiaozhi to defend the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan and Yun. The situation out there is tense." Tao’s voice trembled with worry as she spoke of these grave matters.
Sister Xiang had followed General Xi to Youzhou two years ago.
Now she served under General Xi’s eldest daughter, Xi Yun—a formidable woman who, at fifteen, donned her father’s armor after his death and led eight hundred cavalry to storm three passes in Shu, annihilating the rebel Qiang. They called her the "Demoness."
Her tactics were nothing like her father’s. She charged into battle first, ruthless and fearless, which only deepened Tao’s fears for Sister Xiang’s safety.
Yet over the past two years, Sister Xiang had sent frequent letters. Whenever Shen Miao read them aloud, Tao swelled with pride and dread—Sister Xiang wrote of charging enemy lines, slaying hundreds of Liao raiders who plagued the Song borders. For her valor, Xi Yun promoted her to captain and rewarded her with two iron-spiked spears.
She was ecstatic, boasting in her letters—how the twenty-pound spears, forged by a master, cut down Liao soldiers like wheat.
Each time Shen Miao read these accounts, Tao’s heart pounded, her handkerchief nearly shredded from twisting.
But Shen Miao would only smile, carefully tucking the letters away. "Tao," she’d say, "Sister Xiang is no sparrow—she’s a swan. Let her fly."
Seeing Tao’s expression, Doukou quickly changed the subject. "Then Ji Brother must be coming back this year, right? He’s been stationed in Taizhou on the Huainan East Circuit for three full years. Isn’t it time for his review?"
Ji Brother’s path to the imperial exams had been rocky—twice for the xiucai, twice for the juren, and three times for the jinshi. Fortunately, His Majesty expanded the quotas yearly, and Xie Qi tirelessly tutored him, dissecting past exam essays until Ji Brother finally passed before thirty.
Unlike prodigies like Ninth Brother, Ji Brother’s success came from sheer diligence.
Yet his career surpassed even Xie Qi’s—His Majesty clearly favored him. Despite ranking a humble 138th among the jinshi, he was immediately appointed Hailing Supervisor in Taizhou, overseeing six major saltworks in one of the empire’s wealthiest regions.
This was no small feat—his rank even eclipsed Ninth Brother’s!
Doukou had once overheard a wealthy salt merchant boasting drunkenly at Shen’s Tavern that Taizhou’s merchants were richer than kings, spending tens of thousands in silver yearly to "gift" the Hailing supervisors. The sums made her head spin—the entire Song salt tax revenue barely reached twenty million strings.
Entrusting such a lucrative post to Ji Brother spoke volumes of imperial favor—though Doukou suspected it was love-by-association. His Majesty had often praised Shen Miao in court, remarking that if she was so exceptional, her siblings must be too.
What neither Doukou nor Tao knew was that His Majesty received secret annual deliveries of a hundred thousand taels from Ji Brother in Taizhou. He’d placed Ji Brother there precisely because of his honesty, certain he wouldn’t embezzle—and he hadn’t.
Ji Brother had become the emperor’s personal cash collector.
At the mention of Ji Brother, Tao sighed even deeper. "He’s already written home. The Chuzhou salt scandal erupted—their Hailing supervisor colluded with merchants to embezzle and resell thirty thousand dan of government salt. His Majesty sentenced the man to death, pending appeal. With Chuzhou’s new supervisor yet to arrive, Ji Brother’s been ordered to oversee both posts temporarily. He’s buried in that mess and can’t return."
Doukou: "..." She’d really touched a sore spot.
The two were chatting animatedly when the scorching sun finally dipped below the horizon, and Shen Miao returned home on a red mule-drawn carriage. The brass bell around the mule's neck jingled through the alleyway, startling the old, white-whiskered yellow dog napping under the osmanthus tree—Zhuifeng had grown old and retired from the farm, returning home to rest.
Zhuifeng pricked up his ears at the familiar sound of the carriage wheels and caught Shen Miao’s scent. He wobbled out, wagging his tail vigorously as the carriage drew nearer.
"Zhuifeng, your ears are as sharp as ever," Shen Miao laughed, hopping down from the carriage and bending to ruffle the dog’s large head. "We’re making lamb and three-delicacy dumplings tonight. I’ll set aside a few without salt, just for you." Zhuifeng barked in response, tongue lolling, and trotted alongside Shen Miao.
"Madam is back! Are we making dumplings today? Tang Er was so sure you’d prepare pig’s trotter soup that he sent his son to buy some from the market," Tao chimed in, rising to help unharness the mule. She affectionately patted the mule’s head—this one was the offspring of Eleventh Young Master’s donkey and Gu Dalang’s mare. True to Gu Dalang’s word, Eleventh Young Master had sired the finest mules, each one a sturdy red beast.
Shen Miao smiled. "We’ll make dumplings too—Jiayou loves them. But of course, the ‘Golden List Success’ dish can’t be missed." It had become a tradition in the Shen household to serve pig’s trotters to any child heading for imperial examinations.
Tao brightened at the mention of Jiayou, pulling Doukou along to help with dinner preparations. "Why didn’t Jiayou come back with you?"
"I was too busy today, so Ninth Brother took Jiayou and Shuhe to the Hanlin Academy to play," Shen Miao replied warmly as she entered the kitchen. "Those two have always clung to him more than me."
Tao fetched a cloth belt to tie up Shen Miao’s sleeves, chuckling as she folded them. "Well, what can you do? Where else would you find a father as attentive as Ninth Brother? Ever since Jiayou and Shuhe were born, he’s taken care of everything himself."
Xie Qi and Shen Miao had only two children—their son Xie Jiayou and daughter Xie Shuhe. Jiayou was just five, and Shuhe barely three. Shen Miao had chosen their names from books, hoping they would lead long, peaceful, and prosperous lives.
But when it came to everything else, Xie Qi had shouldered most of the responsibility.
The Hanlin Academy was a modest post with little urgent business, while Shen Miao had already opened restaurants in Luoyang, Daming Prefecture, Yingtian Prefecture, and Xuzhou. She often traveled between these cities, accompanied by her hired legal advisors and accountants to inspect the shops.
So after weaning, the children had practically grown up in their father’s arms.
Shen Miao disliked having too many servants, so their household in Bianjing remained small—just Yan Shu, Qiu Hao, and Zhou Da’s family. And Xie Qi adored his children with Shen Miao so much that he wished he had three heads and six arms to handle every little thing himself, from meals to baths, never delegating to others.
Doukou and Tao had both seen Ninth Brother in his dignified blue official robes, the long-winged hat atop his head, carrying a child in each arm as he headed to the Hanlin Academy. To free his hands, he’d tucked his bamboo court tablet into the belt at his back—only for Shuhe to yank it out and brandish it like a sword.
Yan Shu followed the trio, lugging a massive cloth bag stuffed with the children’s diapers, rattles, cloth dolls, spare clothes, handkerchiefs, and snacks like cricket-shaped biscuits…
Doukou thought of her own husband, Ding Wushi, who snored louder than a crying baby the moment his head hit the pillow, and couldn’t help shaking her head with a smile. "True enough. A father like Ninth Brother is one in a million."
"You all praise him so much—he’ll just use it to boast to me later," Shen Miao laughed, turning to push open the kitchen window and call out, "Youyu, light the fire!"
Youyu soon peeked out from below the window, clutching Qilin’s long-haired tabby cat, grinning at Shen Miao. After all these years, Youyu hadn’t changed a bit.
Her eyes were still as clear as a child’s.
Doukou adjusted the baby on her back and pulled Youyu inside, wetting a cloth to wipe the girl’s smudged face. "Your face is dirtier than Dahu’s!"
Dahu was Qilin’s only kitten. While most cats had litters, Qilin’s fling with a stray tabby had produced just one offspring. But that was fine—Qilin had an easier time nursing, and Dahu grew up plump and adorable. The only downside was that Dahu took after his father, with a large, imposing frame that made him look more like a little tiger than his elegant mother.
Doukou finished cleaning Youyu’s face and scrubbed her hands. "Look at these hands—you could scrape mud out of them! Where have you been playing?"
Youyu pointed outside the courtyard, making wordless sounds.
Doukou understood. "You went to Bao’s place?"
Youyu nodded obediently.
"Did Bao drag you into mischief again? Crawling through dog holes?"
Another nod.
Doukou stifled a laugh and patted her head. "Go on, get to work."
Truthfully, Shen’s establishments now had plenty of staff. Even Nian Shenniang’s monthly wages could support the whole family, so Youyu didn’t need to work anymore. But the routines of fetching water and tending the fire had become ingrained in her. If no one gave her tasks, she’d mope around unhappily.
Especially when others filled the water vats in the courtyard—she’d stomp her feet, tilt her head back, and cry in frustration until Shen Miao had to let her do it herself.
"Sister, I’m back!" Chen Chuan strode in through the gate, waving a freshly opened letter. His eyes sparkled with excitement. "Master has been promoted to reviewing official at Luoyang’s Judicial Review Court!" The boy who once trailed after Sister Xiang had grown into a tall, bamboo-straight young man. "He wrote that if I pass the exams this year, he’ll recommend me for a position as a case judge in the Dali Temple!"
The "Master" he spoke of was Lawyer Deng, who had left Xingguo Temple and, on Prefect Wang’s recommendation, joined the Judicial Review Court. The court specialized in re-examining cases judged by the Dali Temple, and as a reviewing official, Lawyer Deng would scrutinize verdicts—a seventh-rank post.
"Your master knows you well—your memory for legal codes is unmatched." Case judges at the Dali Temple were responsible for analyzing evidence and determining guilt, requiring flawless recall and application of laws—perfect for Chen Chuan.
Shen Miao kneaded the dough, smiling faintly. "If you do pass, you must thank him properly. By the way, Zhao the Butcher sent a black-bone chicken the other day. I had Tang Er prepare it—it’s simmering on the stove. Have a bowl later to fortify yourself. Tomorrow, your brush will flow like divine inspiration."
Chen Chuan plucked a wild peach from a basin and sidled up to Shen Miao, attempting an awkward show of affection. "Thank you, Sister. I’ll do my best tomorrow. But even if I pass, I’ll keep coming back for your cooking—don’t get tired of me!"
Shen Miao knew that Chen Chuan must have also learned that Ji Brother and Sister Xiang wouldn’t be returning this year either, so he was finding ways to comfort her. She turned around and pinched him. "Did you run all the way here? Your back is soaked with sweat. Go change your clothes."
Chen Chuan grinned and dashed off again.
Shen Miao watched his retreating figure with a pang of tenderness in her heart.
When Chen Chuan was about sixteen, Lawyer Deng had hurriedly taken him to the yamen after hearing that several child traffickers had been arrested—this boy had never forgotten the face of the man who had abducted him. As he grew older, he even described the man’s appearance to a police sketch artist to have a portrait drawn.
He pasted the sketch of the trafficker above his bed and looked at it every day.
As if heaven had eyes, among the traffickers caught this time was the very same villain who had kidnapped Chen Chuan years ago. Though the man had aged considerably, Chen Chuan recognized him at once.
Under Chen Chuan’s relentless questioning, the man even remembered Chen Chuan’s escape back then. But out of sheer malice, he refused to reveal Chen Chuan’s origins. Only after being tortured did he finally confess.
It turned out Chen Chuan was indeed from the Jianghuai region. His family was in Zhenzhou, Huainan, a crucial hub for canal transport with well-developed waterways. Shen Miao had made time back then to accompany Xie Qi in taking Chen Chuan back to Zhenzhou.
After much searching and countless hardships, they finally found his home.
The small riverside cloth workshop was now dilapidated and long abandoned. Neighbors who had lived there for years told them that after losing Chen Chuan, his parents had traveled far and wide searching for him. They abandoned their business, exhausted their savings, and their health deteriorated from years of relentless travel.
Within a few years, Chen Father and Chen Mother had passed away one after the other.
Chen Chuan’s older sister had been taken in by their maternal uncle’s family and was now married. The neighbors didn’t know where she had moved to, as she hadn’t returned in years.
After further inquiries, they finally tracked down the uncle’s family and traveled over a hundred li to Sizhou to meet Chen Sister. Fortunately, she was doing well—her uncle and aunt treated her like their own daughter, saving up a generous dowry to arrange a good marriage for her.
When she saw Chen Chuan, Chen Sister wept uncontrollably, her voice trembling with grief. "Before Father and Mother died, they couldn’t even close their eyes—they kept calling your name. They left this world without ever finding out what happened to you, carrying that regret to their graves..." She clutched Chen Chuan’s arm tightly, her eyes filled with anguish. "All these years, where have you been? Where were you?"
Chen Chuan fell to his knees, sobbing so hard he couldn’t speak.
He had come with the hope of seeing his parents again, even worrying whether they would still recognize him or if they had forgotten him. But he never imagined they had already passed away—having exhausted themselves, body and soul, in their desperate search for him.
Over the years, Shen Miao had repeatedly asked the broker Shorty Ya to inquire at the human markets if anyone was looking for Chen Chuan. She had even commissioned multiple portraits of him, along with the details he remembered about his home, and had Shorty Ya distribute them in Daming Prefecture, Luoyang, and even Jinling, hoping someone might recognize him. But her efforts yielded no results.
Later, Shen Miao even posted notices seeking Chen Chuan’s family in her own shops. She offered a twenty percent discount to any merchant willing to take his portrait and post it on their carriage, hoping travelers from all over might spread the word. But all she encountered were swindlers. After being deceived multiple times, Chen Chuan, his face cold with anger, tore down the notices himself.
Despite all their efforts, in the end, all they found were the graves of Chen Father and Chen Mother.
After paying respects to his birth parents and staying with Chen Sister for a few days—long enough to confirm she was truly well—Chen Chuan bid her farewell and returned to Bianjing with Shen Miao.
Chen Sister accompanied them all the way to the ferry, holding Chen Chuan’s hand as tears streamed down her face once more. This time, however, she smiled through her tears. "Little Brother, Father and Mother always said that even if they never found you, they hoped the family who took you in would love you and keep you from suffering. Thankfully, that wish came true... Now that I’ve seen you, I know they would be at peace in the afterlife."
Chen Chuan could only look at her with red-rimmed eyes. "Take care, Sister. I’ll come back to see you."
After returning to Bianjing, Chen Chuan threw himself into preparing for the Mingfa Imperial Examinations with near-frenzied determination. He vowed to join the Dali Temple and eradicate human traffickers, sending every last one to the executioner’s block.
In the Song Dynasty, the Mingfa examinations, like other imperial exams, required candidates to pass multiple rounds—prefectural, provincial, and more. The content focused on legal codes, penal statutes, and case judgments. Tomorrow would be his final test. If he passed, he would become a Mingfa graduate, eligible to take the Dali Temple’s "appointment exam" and officially become a judge.
This boy had endured a lifetime of hardship, experiencing the cruelest separations and losses, yet his heart still yearned for justice. That was why Shen Miao cherished him all the more.
As she swiftly rolled out dumpling wrappers, Shen Miao sighed inwardly.
Tao and Doukou helped mix the filling, deliberately setting aside three small bowls of unseasoned meat for the pets. Qilin and Zhuifeng were both old now—salt made their fur fall out, so the elderly cat and dog had begun a regimen of careful eating. Seeing they were done, Shen Miao smiled and scooped out a small bowl. "Let me take this one for Leiting."
She carried it to the osmanthus tree.
Beneath the tree was a small mound of earth, with Zhuifeng lying beside it.
Shen Miao patted Zhuifeng’s head before placing the bowl in front of the mound. She crouched there silently for a long time before finally standing up to wash her hands and resume preparing dinner.
Just then, the sound of cart wheels came from outside the courtyard—Hong Ba from the farm had arrived with the ducks for tomorrow. The man, now with streaks of gray in his hair and still dressed in coarse work clothes, beamed as he said, "Madam Shen, I’ve also brought a few fresh carp from the pond today. Take them—Brother Chuan loves fish, doesn’t he? Steam them for him, fragrant and nourishing. May he pass with flying colors tomorrow!"
Shen Miao smiled. "You’ve come all this way—you’re too kind."
"Not at all! If not for Brother Chuan clearing my name back then, where would I be now?" Hong Ba said gratefully.
His family had been raising ducks at Shen Miao’s farm for years, and they’d encountered their share of unreasonable customers. Once, an old woman tried stealing ducklings, and when Hong Ba stopped her, she threw herself to the ground, wailing and accusing him of pushing her. Brother Chuan had defended him in court, presenting clear evidence and witnesses until the old woman’s lies fell apart. She ended up beaten with rods and fined.
Such incidents were far from rare over the years—malicious slander and false accusations happened annually. It almost seemed that without a few lawsuits, Shen Miao’s growing wealth wouldn’t feel legitimate.
But with Chen Chuan around, she no longer feared such underhanded schemes.
Though he hadn’t yet passed the Mingfa exams, he was already a well-known lawyer in Bianjing, much like Lawyer Deng had been in his time. Every day, people came to him for contracts, mediation, or litigation. Despite his youth, he had already amassed a small fortune of a hundred guan.
As twilight fell, raindrops finally began pattering down. Shen Miao dropped freshly wrapped lamb and leek dumplings into the boiling broth, her gaze drifting through the steam-fogged window where Chen Chuan paced around the porch pillar, reciting legal texts.
It struck her suddenly—the first time she'd pushed through curious neighbors to see him. Who could have imagined that scrawny child crawling out of a drainage ditch, starving like a twig, would grow into this self-assessed young lawyer?
The dog Zhui Feng barked hoarsely at the rain-curtain twice. Then Eunuch Xu came splashing through the courtyard gate, arms clamped around a food box. "Madam Shen! Three roasted ducks—fattier ones!" Before he could finish, Shen Miao had already handed over the prepared box from Fu Xing. "Ready since noon. Take it."
Eunuch Xu grabbed it and ran—his duties were far heavier than his predecessor Eunuch Liang's. The Emperor's eldest son was his father's mirror image, right down to the obsession with duck. Every day, he had to deliver to the Crown Prince at Duanben Palace first, then rush to the Emperor. No wonder his legs had grown thin from the endless sprinting.
Shen Miao shook her head with a smile, stirring the dumplings to keep them from sticking.
Outside, rain tapped a lazy rhythm on banana leaves while the chicken broth and dumplings bubbled fragrantly on the stove. The evening shower had finally washed away some of the city's sweltering heat.
Just as she ladled out the dumplings, Zhui Feng barked again. She looked up to see Xie Qi stepping through the last threads of drizzling twilight—his daughter yanking his topknot from her perch on his shoulders, his son clinging like a monkey to his back, shrieking that he was slipping. His official hat was tucked under one arm as he made his ridiculous, beloved entrance.
Her eyes crinkled. "Dumplings are ready. Go set the table."
People grow. People part. But those meant to meet will always meet again.
Year after year after year.
