Xie Qi was a young man who, if he remained silent, often gave no indication of his noble upbringing.
His face never bore the haughty expression typical of aristocratic youths, and at times, his attire was so plain it could startle. Forget lavish silks—when Shen Miao first encountered him on a cargo boat, he was dressed even more simply than her, who was practically penniless.
Of course, at the time, Shen Miao was unaware that Xie Qi’s preference for plain clothing stemmed from hard-earned experience: dressing too finely when venturing out was no minor inconvenience for him—it was like standing in a swarm of bees coated in honey.
In the past, he had tried various methods to ward off misfortune, such as hiring bodyguards or bringing along more armed servants, but these only resulted in greater losses—both in people and possessions. Eventually, Xie Qi and his entire family came to a realization:
The heavens seemed to have it out for the Ninth Young Master alone!
After that, whenever Xie Qi went out, he only took Yan Shu with him. Traveling quietly and incognito seemed to work better.
Fortunately, Lady Xi had trained him in martial arts from a young age to strengthen his body—otherwise, with his luck, he wouldn’t have survived to this day.
Unaware of these circumstances, Shen Miao couldn’t help but marvel inwardly: even her Uncle Shen would occasionally splurge on fine silks, yet every time she saw Xie Qi, his clothes were mostly plain cotton or simple silk, rarely in bold colors like vermilion or deep purple. Especially during these days—his grandfather’s memorial rites—he wore unadorned hemp garments, with scarcely any embellishments, and even his hairpin had been replaced with a plain white jade one.
"To be striking, wear mourning white…"
This saying… wasn’t just applicable to women.
Today, Xie Qi seemed to have no plans to go out. He was dressed in casual home attire—a loose, wide-sleeved robe of plain white, his movements carrying an air of Wei-Jin dynasty elegance. A pale blue sash was loosely tied around his waist, accentuating the slender yet upright frame of youth, like a bamboo shoot growing tall and straight against a cliffside breeze.
Startled by his sudden words, Shen Miao turned to look. Xie Qi had just stepped inside, head slightly bowed. The rain outside was heavy, and his thick-soled wooden clogs left his sleeves and hem damp, the fabric slightly translucent from the moisture.
Cradling a bundle of old books in the crook of his arm, he flicked away the water droplets from his sleeve, and Shen Miao caught a faint, refreshing fragrance.
She hadn’t noticed before, but today she detected it—his clothes were lightly scented with snow pine, now subtly mingling with the rain-soaked grass, making him seem as though he had just emerged from a dewy, cool forest.
Once inside, though his hands were full, he still managed to offer Shen Miao a slight bow and a gentle greeting: "Miss Shen, the weather has been uncooperative these past two days. I appreciate your daily travels here."
The world was damp, the twilight pale, his plain robes fluttering in the breeze.
What she saw was a person seemingly cleansed by the spring rain.
Yan Shu bounded in behind him, shaking the rainwater off his umbrella at the threshold before eagerly addressing Shen Miao: "Miss Shen, Sister Xiang just told me her elder brother is preparing for the Imperial Academy’s entrance exam. It occurred to me that Ninth Young Master has many old books from his own exam days that are no longer in use—why not lend them to her brother? It’s perfect, isn’t it?"
Shen Miao suddenly snapped out of her daze.
After finishing his words, Yan Shu hurried off again, retrieving the half-eaten fish-shaped red bean bun from the basket behind Sister Xiang and taking a satisfied bite—thankfully, it was still warm! The pastry, made by Shen Miao, was best enjoyed hot, when the outer layer remained crispy and the flavor was at its peak. He hadn’t had enough yet!
Taking a big bite, the red bean filling inside seemed to have been pounded smooth, stretching slightly with each pull.
Yan Shu sat contentedly beside Sister Xiang, continuing to eat with her. He nudged her arm enviously and sighed, "Sister Xiang, your elder sister’s cooking is so delicious. You get to enjoy it every day—how lucky!"
At this mention, Sister Xiang suddenly perked up, tilting her head. "My sister has a stall on Jinliang Bridge. If you ever crave it, you can just come find us! It’s only a short walk away."
Shen Miao couldn’t help but chuckle. This child was usually only concerned with eating, yet here she was, subtly advertising their business!
Seeing the two children chatting happily again, Shen Miao slowly turned her attention elsewhere. Xie Qi was placing a stack of books on the table, arranging them methodically as he spoke. "Yan Shu came to borrow the books I used as a child. But my early studies were quite scattered, and I’m not sure where Shen Ji is in his reading now, so I brought them all. Please call him over later, Shen Miao. I’ll ask him directly so he doesn’t waste time studying haphazardly."
This was akin to a top-tier university graduate returning to mentor younger students—an incredibly rare opportunity! Especially since Xie Qi was currently enrolled at the prestigious Biyong Academy and must be well-acquainted with the professors and their exam tendencies.
"Having Xie Qi guide Ji Brother is truly his good fortune! Please wait a moment, Xie Qi. I’ll fetch him right away." So that was why Yan Shu had left so abruptly! Overjoyed, Shen Miao stood up, thanking him before hastily lifting her skirt to hurry down the corridor, where Shen Ji was still buried in his books.
When Shen Ji heard the news, he was too stunned to react at first, standing frozen for a long moment. Impatient, Shen Miao grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the kitchen.
Stumbling along, his heart pounded wildly—lately, without a teacher’s guidance, he had been studying alone, often feeling lost and overwhelmed. But… was someone really willing to help him?
Scholars often looked down on one another, and education was the ladder to social mobility. Many clung tightly to their knowledge, afraid others might surpass them, unwilling to share even a drop.
And Xie Qi came from such an esteemed family. Shen Ji’s unease grew.
His sister had never witnessed the favoritism and snobbery in Teacher Liu’s school. In the same classroom, students flocked around those from wealthy families—gold merchants, silk traders, or grain tycoons. Even Teacher Liu gave the privileged students the best seats and explained lessons to them with extra patience.
Shen Ji had always been the overlooked one, the target of mockery and pranks.
Having seen all this, his steps faltered as Shen Miao dragged him forward.
"Ji Brother? Why aren’t you moving?" Shen Miao noticed she couldn’t pull him along and turned to see him hanging his head slightly. Her heart stirred, as if she understood something, and she spoke gently, "Don’t worry. Trust your elder sister. My judgment of people has never been wrong."
Shen Ji hesitated inwardly. Those words sounded hollow even to him—if her judgment were so good, why had she ever taken a liking to that Rong Dalang in the past? But he didn’t want to upset his sister, so he swallowed his words and reluctantly followed Shen Miao forward.
Once they entered the kitchen, Shen Ji became even more determined not to embarrass his sister. Pushing aside his unease, he first bowed respectfully to Xie Qi with a cupped-hand salute. "Greetings to Young Master Xie."
"No need for such formality," Xie Qi returned the gesture and then asked kindly what books Shen Ji had already studied and what he was currently learning. After patiently listening to the answers, he quickly grasped the situation. Without unnecessary small talk, he pondered for a moment before selecting three books and explaining, "The Piyong Academy is different from other schools. It doesn’t test on primers like The Expanded Maxims or The Three Character Classic. You needn’t bother with those. The summer entrance exam for the Imperial College’s youth division has two conditions: first, it only admits children under ten years old; second, it consists of five sections. The first section tests handwriting—a passage from The Four Books will be chosen for copying. The writing must be neat and flawless to pass. I’ve already seen your calligraphy. You practice the Yan style, don’t you? For your age, your handwriting is quite good, so you needn’t worry about this part. The second section tests classical texts, requiring a short essay that is coherent and substantive. The third section tests a five-character, six-rhyme regulated verse. While this appears to examine poetic skill, it’s actually a test of phonology. So, rather than reading the books you have now, it would be more useful to memorize the rules of tonal patterns and rhyme schemes first."
Shen Miao nodded repeatedly, her face lighting up with relief.
What luck that they had come to the Xie household to bake steamed buns, that she had brought Ji Brother along, and that Xie Qi was so approachable and kind! All these strokes of fortune had led to today’s guidance—otherwise, Ji Brother might have wasted his efforts without even realizing it.
She also knew that the books Shen Ji had been copying and studying recently had nothing to do with what Xie Qi had just described. If not for Yan Shu’s sudden idea to help Ji Brother borrow books today, they would never have learned these details, and all his hard work might have been in vain.
"The fourth and fifth sections both concern the imperial edicts issued in recent years by the court..." Xie Qi paused here, his eyes crinkling with a hint of mischief as he lowered his voice. "These two sections require no real scholarship, nor do you need to hunt down every edict or parse them word by word with lofty praise. In fact, these are the easiest of the five sections. You need only lavish praise—the more sycophantic, the better. Exalt the emperor’s brilliance and virtue to the most exaggerated degree possible."
Shen Ji blinked in astonishment. Wait—that was allowed?
Xie Qi’s expression remained composed, his tone unchanged, but his words were piercingly clear: "After all, the Imperial College is an institution established by the emperor. Most of its students will eventually enter officialdom. To serve as ministers and chancellors, one must not only uphold ideals and justice, bearing the responsibility of upholding the realm, but also learn to navigate the world with tact. The first three sections test solid literary skills, while the last two examine one’s innate understanding of human nature and social grace."
Shen Ji had only ever heard scholars speak of unyielding integrity—refusing to bow for mere sustenance, upholding purity in office to plead for the people’s welfare—but never such pragmatic words. He was momentarily stunned. He turned Xie Qi’s words over in his mind, carefully savoring them, but being young, though he remembered them, he couldn’t yet grasp the subtle depth hidden in Xie Qi’s tone.
Shen Miao, however, understood and couldn’t help but glance sideways. Xie Qi noticed her gaze and simply smiled.
She returned the smile.
This Ninth Brother Xie was truly unlike someone from a scholarly family—a remarkable person.
After that, Xie Qi said little more, selecting three books and handing them to Ji Brother. "Start with these. If you truly apply yourself, you’ll have no trouble with the summer exams next month. The notes in the margins are my own reflections and annotations. You may read them or ignore them."
Shen Ji took the books, still warm from Xie Qi’s hands. That faint warmth spread like a spark in his chest, igniting his determination and hope. Before his sister’s return, he’d endured endless scorn—Aunt Li said he’d never pass the Imperial Academy entrance; his classmates mocked his delusions; Teacher Liu claimed he wasn’t fit to be a scholar; Aunt dismissed him as mere ledger material.
His brushes wore down to stubs, yet he couldn’t bear to replace them. Paper was too precious to waste, so he often practiced writing with sticks in the dirt.
But today, someone told him: If you put your heart into it, you’ll succeed.
His eyes stung, and for once, no clever words came to him. Instead, he rose solemnly and bowed deeply to Xie Qi, declaring, "Thank you for your guidance, Ninth Brother! I’ll study diligently and treasure these books—I won’t let them come to harm."
Yet Xie Qi, as if anticipating the formal gesture, caught his arm the moment he bent. "No need to treasure them. Books exist to be read, not enshrined on altars."
Shen Miao couldn’t suppress a laugh. Yes, this sentiment suited her too.
Xie Qi then handed over a basket of nearly new brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones. "These are my usual tools. Not luxury items like Xue Tao paper or Tonghu brushes, but they serve well. Take them. In the future—"
Shen Ji hesitated, too awed to accept, until Yan Shu exclaimed, "If you don’t take them, Ninth Brother’s arm will go numb!" and shoved the basket into his arms.
Flushing, Shen Ji clutched the items helplessly, glancing at Shen Miao for direction.
She bit her lower lip, vexed. How could they ever repay such kindness?
A box of egg yolk pastries seemed far too slight.
Yet Xie Qi, as if reading her thoughts, turned to her with a smile. "No need for words. To me, this is trivial—hardly worth mentioning. Neither you nor Ji Brother should dwell on it or feel obliged to repay. I didn’t act for compensation. I’ve survived in this world thanks to many kindnesses. Even on the boat that day, your bowl of hot noodle soup warmed stomachs long starved of anything but dry rations. So accept this freely, and let Ji Brother study in peace."
Shen Miao found his phrasing odd—what did he mean by "survived thanks to kindnesses"? But before she could ponder it, Xie Qi had already stepped forward and lightly clasped Shen Ji’s shoulder.
"See you at Biyong Academy in the future."
Xie Qi's words were spoken softly, yet they stirred Shen Ji profoundly, filling him with such encouragement that he nodded emphatically.
No sooner had these words been uttered than another servant boy, aged thirteen or fourteen and even more delicate in appearance, rushed in. His headscarf had come loose from running, and he leaned against the doorframe, panting heavily: "Ninth Young Master, why have you come here? I’ve been searching everywhere for you..."
Yan Shu turned and exclaimed in surprise, "Qiu Hao? What brings you here?"
"Don’t ask! You lured Ninth Young Master here without a word, making me search high and low! But never mind that now—the master is looking for Ninth Young Master. He’s preparing the carriage again, as the Vice Minister of the Censorate has arranged an elegant 'Rainy Flowing Banquet' at the East Wind Pavilion by Jinming Pond and has invited the master to attend."
Yan Shu pointed at the pouring rain outside, incredulous. "A banquet in this weather? Why not call it the 'Drenched Chicken Feast'? And the master—why must he always drag Ninth Young Master along with him..."
Qiu Hao finally caught his breath and waved a hand dismissively. "No use complaining. The master is in a hurry. I’ve already prepared extra sets of clothes and had Zhou Er ready a sturdier carriage—it should suffice... Ninth Young Master, let’s go."
Xie Qi could only sigh inwardly in resignation. Yet when he turned to bid farewell to Shen Miao and the others, his expression had smoothed over, his eyes softening with a faint smile as he regarded the siblings. "My apologies for the poor hospitality today, Miss Shen. I must take my leave now..."
Shen Miao suddenly remembered her egg yolk pastries and clapped her hands. "Ninth Young Master, wait!"
Xie Qi looked startled, but Shen Miao had already spun around, lifting her skirts as she dashed into the kitchen’s side room.
She hurriedly retrieved the pastries—already baked and neatly arranged in a food box—and rushed back, her forehead nearly damp with exertion as she held the box out to Xie Qi.
Xie Qi hesitated, not taking it.
"I have little to offer, and I doubt Ninth Young Master would care for common gifts. After much thought, the only way to thank you for your kindness these past days was to prepare some food." Shen Miao grabbed Xie Qi’s sleeve, forcing him to take hold of the box’s handle before finally relaxing. Tilting her head up, she smiled, her eyes crinkling. "This small token hardly conveys my gratitude, but thank you for your care these past two days. I hope you enjoy the pastries."
Xie Qi lowered his head slightly just as Shen Miao released his sleeve, letting it fall back into place.
When he looked up again, he was met with Miss Shen’s smile—bright and fluid as clear water.
Her features were not exquisitely refined; silent and unsmiling, she might have seemed like a wooden doll. But when she moved, it was as if a warm, vibrant spirit awakened within her, every glance and gesture inexplicably putting others at ease.
Xie Qi’s heart stirred faintly. Gazing at the food box in his hand, even the smile in his eyes seemed to soften. "The spring break is ending. In two days, I’ll be leaving the city for my studies, returning only once every ten days. It won’t be easy to taste Miss Shen’s cooking again... Thank you. I’ll gladly accept this."
After a pause, he remembered that today was the last day of the Dharma Assembly—Miss Shen might not return to the Xie household in the future.
He added gently, "Miss Shen, until we meet again."
The dusk was approaching, with raindrops pattering and the scent of fresh grass lingering in the air. Xie Qi’s wide, plain white sleeves seemed to catch the evening breeze, swaying gently like rippling water. Shen Miao’s heart softened as she watched him, and she tilted her face up with a sincere smile, offering her heartfelt wishes:
“Yes, may Ji Brother’s studies go smoothly. Until we meet again.”
After returning from the Xie household, the lives of the three Shen siblings settled back into tranquility.
As usual, Shen Miao rose early each morning to set up her stall at the market. Her hand-pulled pancakes and red bean bread had already gained a steady clientele, allowing her to sell with much more ease than before.
Amid the daily routine of her stall, she also made a few new friends besides Mei Sanniang.
Originally, her stall was sandwiched between Mei Sanniang’s beverage stand on the right and an elderly man selling shoes on the left. But after she took three days off, she returned to find the left side now occupied by a young girl selling wooden hairpins and floral ornaments. The girl appeared even younger than her, likely around fifteen or sixteen.
Mei Sanniang explained that she was the daughter of the Mi family from nearby Elm Alley. Her father was a woodcarving master, and she had learned the craft from him since childhood. The girl had exceptional talent, so her father disregarded the tradition of passing skills only to sons and taught her everything he knew.
Though Miss Mi still struggled with larger furniture pieces, she was more than capable of carving delicate wooden hairpins.
The girl seemed rather shy—she neither called out to customers nor actively solicited business. Instead, she simply set up a small table and sat behind it, quietly carving hairpins with a small knife. Yet her live demonstrations and willingness to take custom orders drew crowds, and her business thrived.
Impressed by her craftsmanship, Shen Miao bought three hairpins: a butterfly-patterned one for Sister Xiang, a peach-and-blessing design for herself, and a dragonfly motif for Ji Brother.
In the Song Dynasty, both men and women adorned their hair with flowers. During festivals like the Shangsi Festival or the Lantern Festival, the emperor himself would bestow flowers upon officials, with different ranks receiving distinct floral ornaments. Thus, on major holidays, the streets would teem with people, men and women alike, their heads adorned with vibrant blooms.
These floral decorations could be fresh seasonal flowers or crafted from silk, wood, gold, or silver.
In Bianjing, the market for hair ornaments was evergreen—and fiercely competitive.
At first, Shen Miao didn’t have many chances to chat with Miss Mi, as she was busy flipping pancakes and the girl was absorbed in her carving. But one day, perhaps noticing Miss Mi’s success, a woman selling silk floral ornaments set up shop beside her. The woman was fashionably dressed, her hair piled high with an array of dazzling hairpins to catch the eye. Her calls were melodious and crisp as she chanted, “Hair ornaments for sale! Peonies, peonies, and roses—every flower in full bloom, every color you desire!” Soon, she lured away many customers.
The next day, as the silk flower vendor cried out again, “Hair ornaments for sale—”
Shen Miao, busy at her griddle, suddenly heard Miss Mi raise her voice and chime in: “Me too!”
She couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
The young Miss Mi turned to look at her innocently, and Shen Miao quickly suppressed her smile, casually cutting a piece of red bean toast to pass over. Miss Mi timidly accepted it, then shyly whispered her thanks. From then on, the two became acquainted.
As for another friend, well, this one was a bit special—a large tabby cat that arrived punctually every day from the upper bridge to mooch fried chicken cutlets. This tabby was quite the majestic sight, with striped arms and back, strutting around with its head held high, almost like a little tiger.
One day, no one knew where it came from, but suddenly it sniffed the air and planted itself in front of Shen Miao’s stall, refusing to leave. It even circled behind the stall, raising its tail to rub against Shen Miao’s legs.
It left her skirt covered in fur.
But her heart softened, and when there were no customers around, she cracked an egg, fried it plain, and crouched down to feed the cat.
She also took the chance to stroke its fur.
The tabby purred loudly as it ate, even lifting its rear for Shen Miao to pat.
“Oh, you really know how to enjoy yourself, huh?” Though her words were teasing, her hands were already dutifully obliging, giving the big tabby such satisfying pats that it purred even louder between bites.
Mei Sanniang, having just finished serving customers, turned at the sound of the cat and chuckled, crossing her arms. “Shen Miao, you’re done for now! This rascal is famous around here for being clingy. Feed it once, and it’ll never leave. Let me tell you, there used to be a young man named Gui under this bridge—no one knew what he did for a living, but he’d fish from his boat under the arches. Sometimes he’d only catch one or two fish all day. This clever cat would squat right beside him, waiting for his catch. Every fish that poor Young Master Gui worked so hard to reel in ended up in this cat’s belly. And that’s not all—fishing depends on luck, and when he didn’t catch anything, he’d turn around to those two big, expectant eyes staring at him. What could he do? He’d slink off to buy fish just to feed it!”
As Shen Miao borrowed a ladle of water from Mei Sanniang to wash her hands, she suddenly understood—no wonder this tabby’s fur was so glossy and sleek. What a masterful little con artist!
True to Mei Sanniang’s warning, after Shen Miao fed it once, the cat showed up at her stall every day. Unwilling to give it fried meat coated in sauce and salt, she followed in Young Master Gui’s footsteps, boiling a small piece of chicken specially for it. Sometimes, when the crowd of customers grew too busy and frantic, and her back ached from standing all day, she’d turn around to see Sister Xiang cradling the big tabby against the bridge pier, dozing off.
The sunlight grew richer, and the pair—one child, one cat—slept sprawled out, limbs splayed, their bodies shimmering under the golden rays, their fur and clothes carrying a warm, fluffy scent.
Watching them quietly, Shen Miao felt her weariness melt away.
Today was no different. Shen Miao sold out all her hand-pulled pancakes and toast, and Sister Xiang crouched on the ground, holding the tabby’s front paw as if reluctant to part with it. Shen Miao had once considered taking the cat home, but it seemed unwilling. After finishing its meal and enjoying Sister Xiang’s chubby little hands combing its fur and patting its rear, it leisurely licked its paw, leaped onto the bridge pier, and trotted down the other side, patrolling the alleys along both banks of Jinliang Bridge.
So it had claimed these two streets as its own territory.
Once again, Shen Miao realized the truth and shook her head in amusement: This wasn’t just any kitty—this was a full-fledged gangster!
Thus, Shen Miao had no choice but to maintain this lukewarm, gentlemanly friendship with the large tabby cat.
After bidding farewell to the cat that day, she and Sister Xiang walked into the alley as usual, carrying their shoulder poles. Before they even entered, they could hear a group of women gathered together, chatting.
And then she heard her own name.
Shen Miao raised an eyebrow—ah, yes. Even in her quiet life, there seemed to be some increasingly elaborate and bizarre tales brewing, all spun from the tongues of these aunties.
