Lin Jing carefully put away the little bow, then scampered back to his room and returned carrying a bulging little cloth bag.
These past few days at the academy, ever since he learned the date of his birthday and heard Tigerhead and Qi Lang say that birthdays called for gifts, he had kept the matter firmly in mind. It was his first time preparing a gift for someone, and he had no experience. He did not know what would make a good present, so whenever he saw something that looked nice, he picked it up and tucked it into the little cloth bag. Bit by bit, he had gathered quite a collection.
He carried the bag over to Lin Wu and held it out with both hands. His little face was solemn as he said, “Happy birthday, Mother.”
Looking down at his earnest little expression, Lin Wu could not help smiling. She reached out and took the bag. “Thank you, A Jing.”
When she opened it, she found all sorts of odds and ends inside. A few round, smooth pebbles, several leaves pressed perfectly flat, and a glossy black feather. Besides the things that were immediately recognizable, there were also several objects wrapped in little cloth bags or oil paper.
Lin Wu unwrapped them one by one. Each item brought a new surprise. It was the first time she had ever opened a single gift and found several gifts inside.
First came a small packet of osmanthus candies. Then she felt out a wooden hairpin, followed by a little box of facial cleanser. She recognized the mark on the box—it belonged to the cosmetics shop across from the pastry shop. Shopkeeper Lü’s child also studied at the village school.
As she laid the items out one by one, she gradually understood.
Though the noisy children from the village school were not there in person, looking at this scattered little collection was almost like hearing their racket right beside her. Even as an adult, she had somehow tasted what it was like to receive gifts from an entire community.
A few days earlier, the children at the village school had been very curious when they saw Lin Jing picking up one thing after another. When they asked and learned that Jing was preparing a birthday gift for his mother, everyone began offering suggestions and contributing things, and the whole affair became lively and bustling. As for how Lin Jing had obtained the items from them—whether he had paid for them or traded something in return—no one could say for certain.
At the very bottom was a small string of copper coins, exactly twenty-three wen.
Lin Wu was twenty-three by nominal age. The child must have pondered the matter for a long time, unsure how much to give, and eventually remembered the custom of giving money according to one’s age.
The little string of coins felt heavy in her hand, and all at once her nose began to sting.
She crouched down and gently hugged the child in front of her.
“Thank you, A Jing. You put so much thought into this. I love it.”
Lin Jing buried his face against her shoulder and mumbled, “Next year I’ll save up more.”
Lin Wu smiled, released him, and ruffled his hair.
She carefully put the cloth bag away, then turned and brought out a little cloth doll from the room.
The children immediately crowded around.
It was a palm-sized dog sitting on its haunches, its tail perked up. Two round, shiny black wooden beads had been sewn onto its little face and painted with black lacquer, making them gleam. Its body was made of pale-yellow fine linen, the stitches sturdy and neat, and it was stuffed with cotton, giving it a plump, chubby shape. It felt soft and squishy in the hand, and its expression was both foolishly endearing and obedient.
Lin Jing held the little cloth dog and squeezed it with one small finger. His eyes lit up. “It’s so soft!”
“Happy birthday to you too, A Jing,” Lin Wu said with a smile. “This is your birthday gift.”
Lin Jing turned the little cloth dog over and over, examining it from every angle. Little Lucky was crouching by his feet when it suddenly lifted its head and barked.
Tigerhead looked down at Little Lucky, then up at the cloth dog. He clapped his hands. “It’s Little Lucky!”
It did look a little like Little Lucky—golden yellow and chubby. Lin Jing had been born during the Xu hour, which was associated with the Dog zodiac sign. Since the date of his birth had changed, Lin Wu figured the hour should at least be correct. Giving him a little dog seemed fitting.
She had previously visited the carpenter’s shop and the pottery stalls several times, but had not found anything she liked. Shen Guanting was partly to blame; that man was always collecting little toys for Lin Jing. Lin Jing had accumulated such a large basketful of knickknacks that he could almost open a shop of his own. Whatever Lin Wu bought, she felt she would only be showing off her poor skills in front of a master.
So she had simply made one herself. Using some of the cotton left over from making quilts and bedding, she had sewn a little dog modeled after Laifu.
Tigerhead came over and gazed at it eagerly. “Can I touch it?”
Lin Jing generously handed it to him.
Tigerhead held it in his palms, squeezed the little dog’s tail, and lifted one of its tiny ears. “It’s so soft!”
Sparrow reached over and touched it as well. “What’s its name?”
Lin Jing blurted out, “Afu. He’s Laifu’s little brother.”
He crouched down and waved the cloth dog in front of Laifu. Laifu opened its mouth and tried to bite it, but Lin Jing quickly pulled it back and patted the dog on the head.
“This is mine. It’s not for you.”
Laifu barked again. Whether it had understood him or was merely voicing its displeasure, no one could tell.
Lin Jing hung Afu from his book bag and patted it in satisfaction.
Sparrow watched Afu swaying from the book bag and suddenly her eyes lit up. “They don’t have toys like this in Huzhou Prefecture. We could make them and sell them!”
She counted on her fingers. “Our family is in the cloth business, after all. We have plenty of fabric, and we have embroiderers too.”
Tigerhead slapped his thigh. “That’s perfect! These will definitely sell like hotcakes!”
When it came to toys, this group of children was more familiar with them than anyone. There were already little dolls such as mohoulou in circulation—some sewn from cloth, some made of pottery, and some cast in bronze. Lin Jing himself had several, all gifts from Shen Guanting. But those were either stiff and proper or covered in intricate patterns, made to look as realistic as possible. They were completely different from the chubby, soft, adorably foolish little cloth dog before them.
These children had clamored about starting a business to help Shen Guanting make up his losses, and they had not forgotten about it even now. Their heads were still filled with business schemes.
Several little heads promptly gathered around Lin Wu.
“Sister, can we make these little cloth dogs?” Sparrow asked, looking up at her.
“Yes, yes!” Tigerhead hurriedly added, “We’ll go into business together! I’ll handle the errands, Second Sister will take charge of the embroidery, and Jing will collect the money!”
Sparrow shot him a disdainful look. “You’ll handle the errands? With those little legs of yours, you think you can sell anything?”
“Why not?” Tigerhead protested. “I’m popular, and I have a loud voice!”
The two of them went back and forth, sounding as if they were pitching her some grand business venture.
Lin Wu knew, however, that although the cloth doll looked cute, it did not involve any particularly difficult techniques. Its current design was charming, but any other embroidery workshop could copy it after one glance. Still, the Shen family dealt in silk and other fabrics, so they ought to have their own advantages.
“All right, but you’ll have to plan everything yourselves. You’ll be using your own birthday money, remember.”
The children all nodded together, then scurried over to the table and formed a circle.
“Let’s start with small ones, the kind that can hang from a book bag.”
“We can make little tigers too, and little horses—like my Mountain Lord.”
Lin Jing went and fetched his own ink, brush, and paper and spread them across the table. The children bent over them, their heads pressed together, and began drawing designs.
First they drew a little dog modeled after Laifu. Sparrow drew it. The lines were crooked and wobbly, but one could still tell it was a dog.
Lin Jing took up the brush and drew a little horse after the painted porcelain horse Tigerhead had given him.
Tigerhead studied it for a long while before finally managing to say, “It looks like a little table.”
Lin Jing did not get angry. He simply turned the paper over and began drawing again.
Several heads were crowded together, each adding a stroke here and another there.
Tigerhead held up the drawing and scrutinized it. “It’s kind of ugly.”
Sparrow was silent for a moment. “It really is.”
Lin Wu came out of the kitchen and happened to glance over as she passed. It was so terribly ugly that it was almost painful to look at.
Unable to help herself, she sat down and took the brush from Sparrow.
With a few simple strokes, she drew a little civet cat: triangular ears, round eyes, and three tiny whiskers on each side. It was plain and simple, yet vividly lifelike.
“A little civet cat!” Tigerhead recognized it at once.
Lin Wu drew another picture. This time it had long ears and a three-lobed mouth.
“A little rabbit!” Sparrow shouted.
Lin Jing leaned over and pointed at the empty space on the paper. “We can draw another one here.”
Lin Wu picked up the brush again. Round ears, a short tail, a round body, and a chubby little creature sitting there with a silly expression.
The children stared at it for a long while, but could not figure it out. “Is it a puppy? Why are its ears so short?”
“It’s a little bear.” Only then did Lin Wu remember that they had probably never seen a bear before.
“A bear?” Lin Jing tilted his head. “Aren’t bears black, huge, and fierce?”
Lin Wu lowered her head and gave the little bear a curved smile. “This one is a good bear. A small one.”
The children found it fascinating and gathered around her, asking her to draw more. Lin Wu sketched several pictures, but the noise gave her a headache. She simply handed the brush back. “Draw them yourselves.”
Before long, several sheets of paper covered the table. Sunlight streamed in through the window, coating the crooked little cats and dogs in a warm golden glow. They no longer looked quite so ugly.
Just then, Mrs. Sun, Liang Peilan, and Qi Lang arrived one after another.
“What are you doing?” Mrs. Sun asked, startled at the table covered in drawings.
Tigerhead did not even look up. “Doing business!”
At that, Qi Lang and Liang Peilan immediately crowded around the table.
There were not enough stools, so Qi Lang squeezed onto one with Tigerhead. Tigerhead was bent over drawing his little tiger, but when Qi Lang jostled him, his brush slipped, and the tiger’s head ended up crookedly resting on its shoulder.
Tigerhead began arguing with him. “Qi Lang, you made my little tiger ugly!”
Qi Lang leaned over to take a look and laughed gleefully. “That clearly isn’t a little tiger. At this rate, instead of selling cloth dolls, you might as well set up a riddle stall.”
Liang Peilan studied the crooked drawing of something that was impossible to identify and decided Qi Lang had a point. “Customers definitely won’t be able to guess it. We’re sure to make money.”
Guessing that thing was supposed to be a little tiger would be harder than getting him to win at a gambling game.
Mrs. Sun stood to the side, looking at all the little heads bent over their drawings, squabbling noisily. “Are you opening a shop or a painting academy?”
“Looks like we’re changing careers and opening a riddle stall,” Lin Wu said with a smile as she brought out the steamed cake.
The cake was about two palms long, round and soft, with steam rising from it. Its sweet fragrance filled the entire room.
“What a huge snow-cloud cake!” Lin Jing turned to look, then hurriedly began gathering up all the papers on the table.
Several pairs of little hands scrambled to tidy everything away, and soon the table was cleared. Mrs. Sun wiped it down with a cloth.
Lin Wu placed the snow-cloud cake on the table and carefully cut it into pieces with a small knife. The cake was fluffy and tender, with neat, pale-yellow slices that looked wonderfully sweet. Each person received a small piece. They were still piping hot, and a little too warm to hold comfortably.
“May your birthday be filled with joy!” Tigerhead called, holding up his piece of cake.
The other children chimed in as well, their voices overlapping in a lively jumble. With the sweet fragrance filling the room and all the excited chatter around them, it truly felt like a festival.
When they finished shouting, the children looked at one another and burst out laughing before lowering their heads to eat.
Sparrow took a bite of cake, her cheeks puffed out. “A-Jie, how do you make these little cloth puppies? I want to learn too.”
Lin Wu smiled. “First you draw the shape, then cut the fabric into pieces and sew them together. Finally, stuff them with cotton batting.”
Liang Peilan suddenly added, “Besides cotton batting, you could also fill them with cassia seeds, mugwort, or dried flower petals. Then they’ll make a pleasant rustling sound when you squeeze them, and they’ll smell nice too.”
Qi Lang said, “We could sell them in our stationery shop, like bookmarks.”
Sparrow shook her head, speaking with great seriousness. “That wouldn’t be suitable. Little cloth dolls are mostly sold to children. The people who come to a stationery shop are older students. Who would buy one of these?”
Lin Jing quickly raised his hand. “Then we can take them to the elementary school and sell them, just like I sell jade-spirit bookmarks and cakes.”
He had plenty of experience with this.
Tigerhead had already devoured his cake in two or three bites. He nodded. “We could put them in the cloth shops belonging to Weaving Cloud House too. If we display them at the counters, anyone who comes to buy fabric will see them.”
Sparrow gave the final verdict. “Let’s sell them that way for now. Once they become popular, we’ll open our own shop and specialize in little cloth dolls.”
The children grew more and more enthusiastic as they discussed the business, gathering around the table to divide up the work.
Sparrow counted on her fingers. She and Tigerhead would get the fabric and cotton batting from home. Liang Peilan said he would look for cassia seeds, mugwort, and the other herbs.
Qi Lang had not said a word. He lay sprawled beside the table, drawing one picture after another. Imitating Lin Wu’s drawings, he sketched a row of little animals with round heads and chubby bodies. They were remarkably cute.
Only after he had filled an entire sheet did he put down his brush. “I’ll draw the designs. We can make lots of different kinds, like Jing’s Afu puppy. We can make all twelve zodiac animals—the Rat for midnight, the Ox for the next hour, the Tiger after that, and so on—so everyone can find the animal corresponding to their birth year.”
Tigerhead said, “I’m the Tiger, so I’ll claim that one first!”
Their business plans carried them all the way from the Lin family courtyard to the shop.
After the birthday celebration came the Cold Food Festival, followed closely by the Qingming Festival. Together, the holidays lasted seven days. With so much free time on their hands, the children went to the pastry shop every day.
During the Cold Food Festival, every household let its cooking fire go out and prepared no hot meals. The food at the pastry shop sold much better than usual, especially their cold dishes. Jade cake, rice parcels, and the like were particularly popular during the Cold Food and Qingming Festivals.
Lin Wu kneaded dough at the stove. As she worked it between her hands, the dough gradually took shape.
Lin Jing stood beside her and watched for a long while. “A swallow. It’s a swallow.”
The dough in her hands had developed pointed wings, a round little head, and a tail like a pair of scissors. It was unmistakably a swallow. During the time he had lived at Cloud Mountain Studio, he often went outside to watch the swallows beneath the eaves. While he studied, the swallows chattered away outside. In a sense, they had been his classmates.
“This is called a Jie Zitui swallow,” Lin Wu said, placing the finished swallow in her palm for him to see. “It’s eaten during the Cold Food Festival.”
“Why is it called a Jie Zitui swallow?”
Lin Wu made another one and began to explain in a gentle voice. “Long ago, there was a man in the state of Jin named Jie Zitui. He had once helped a prince of Jin. Later, when that prince became king, he wanted to summon Jie Zitui to serve as an official. But Jie Zitui did not want any reward, so he took his mother and hid in Mian Mountain. To force him to come out, the king ordered his men to set fire to the mountain.”
Lin Jing’s little hands paused. His voice was soft. “Set fire to it?”
He understood better than anyone what fire meant.
“Yes. The mountain burned for three days and three nights.” Lin Wu placed the finished swallow in Lin Jing’s open palm. “When the fire was finally extinguished, people discovered that Jie Zitui and his mother had embraced a charred willow tree. They had already…”
She did not finish the sentence.
Lin Jing lowered his head and gently touched the swallow’s wing with one fingertip.
Lin Wu picked up a willow twig and threaded the little dough swallows, one by one, onto it. “That’s why people later stopped lighting fires on this day and ate cold food instead. To commemorate Jie Zitui, these swallows made from dough came to be called Zitui swallows.”
She rose and led Lin Jing to hang the threaded Zitui swallows on the doorframe. The willow twig was soft, its branches drooping as the little swallows hung in a neat row, almost ready to take flight.
Lin Jing tipped his head back and watched them for a while before suddenly mumbling, “Can the swallows fly to Mianshan and tell Jie Zitui that everyone still remembers him? And his mother, too?”
Lin Wu reached out and stroked his little head. “Yes, they can.”
Lin Jing gazed at the swallows for a moment longer, then said, “Then they’re like paper horses. These are the Zitui swallows our family made. Could we ask them to tell the rest of our family something too? Tell them that we still remember them as well.”
His voice was soft, as though he were earnestly discussing the matter with the swallows.
“They can. Swallows fly high and far, so they can carry any message wherever it needs to go. And they know the way. They can fly all the way south to our old home, so they’ll certainly deliver your message.”
Lin Jing thought of the swallows beneath the eaves of Yunshan Studio, coming and going without ever losing their way. Convinced that Lin Wu’s words made sense, he nodded seriously.
At some point, the vines along the courtyard wall had filled out with green leaves. From last autumn and winter to the spring of the present year, the seasons had turned, and they had come from the capital to Huzhou. Qingming was a time for sweeping the graves, but in this unfamiliar land, they did not even have a place to visit.
Lin Wu took Lin Jing’s small hand. “After we’ve paid our respects at home that day, if it doesn’t rain, we’ll go to Junpu Garden for an outing. I hear lots of people fly kites there, and it’s very lively. A Jing doesn’t have a kite yet, so we can buy one later.”
At that, Lin Jing held out one hand and gestured. “Then I want one that can fly really, really high—like a swallow.”
His little arm traced a great arc through the air, as though the kite had already soared into the sky.
