Chapter 117 – Birthday Gift
The owner of the small restaurant brought up the dishes, poured the wine, and said cheerfully, “Master Xie, please have some wine first. The fish has already been delivered—once it’s ready, I’ll bring it right over. Shall I make it the same as before?”
Xie Siquan replied, “Tone down the spiciness a bit—not too heavy. My nephew just arrived; he might not be used to it.” He said this with great pride, as if having a nephew were something to boast about.
The owner agreed repeatedly and went to make preparations.
The men who came with Xu Jun were much more disciplined than Hu Da’s people. After greeting the family head respectfully, they quietly found seats and rested.
Xu Jun sat at Xie Siquan’s table, pouring wine and arranging dishes—his manner was attentive and proper.
People from Sichuan love spicy food; the hotter the weather, the heavier the seasoning. The dishes today were no exception—plates full of fiery red stir-fries, even the vegetables. At first, Xie Jing didn’t dare pick up his chopsticks, but after tasting a spoonful of mapo tofu, his eyes lit up.
Seeing him enjoy it, Xie Siquan smiled. “Tastes alright? I simmered it with chicken broth. They made two versions—this side has wild greens, the other side’s mixed with chili powder. Try both.”
Xie Jing found both delicious. The tofu was perfectly tender, melting in his mouth. The chicken broth and chili combined into a rich, spicy flavor that whetted his appetite. He scooped a few spoonfuls of tofu over rice and ate with gusto, unable to stop.
Xu Jun hadn’t expected him to be so easily pleased—a bowl of tofu and rice could make him so content. He couldn’t help glancing at him a few more times.
A good kid, he thought. Shame about the guardian.
Xie Siquan stopped him a few times, not wanting him to eat only rice. “Jinger, slow down, just taste it. There’s better food later.”
Xie Jing said, “This is already great.”
“What’s so great about a plate of tofu? Put it down—your uncle ordered a whole table of dishes. Try a bit of everything, and we’ll eat whatever you like most.”
…
Xu Jun shut his eyes briefly. He knew it would turn out this way.
Xie Siquan, spoiled as he was, was sure to spoil the child the same way. A perfectly good boy could be turned into a picky eater in no time.
Before Xu Jun could speak, Xie Jing said calmly from across the table, “Uncle, send some dishes back. Wasting food isn’t good.”
Xie Siquan still tried to persuade him, but Xie Jing shook his head. “Grandma and I aren’t used to this. If you keep doing this, I won’t dare eat out with you again.”
That worked better than anything else—Xie Siquan immediately agreed. He called the owner over, but instead of canceling the dishes, he said, “Send these to the other tables for my men. Just bring me a small sample of each—don’t waste anything.”
The owner obeyed and soon came back with a wooden tray holding seven or eight small plates, neatly arranged with both meat and vegetables.
Grandma Kou tasted the sweet braised pork and praised it.
Xie Jing said curiously, “This place looks simple, but the food is so refined.”
Resting his chin on his hand, Xie Siquan chuckled. “This? Refined? Sichuan cuisine’s always been like this. Once we’re home, I’ll have our chef make truly refined dishes for you. You like sweet glutinous dumplings, right? I’ll have them make lots of small ones for you. Ever tried fried sweet glutinous dumplings?”
Xie Jing shook his head.
“Crispy outside, soft inside. I’ll have them wrapped in oiled paper for you to snack on.”
As Xie Jing ate, he listened with fascination—so many new foods he had never heard of.
When he was with Lord Bai Jiu, he had never lacked for good food, but Lord Bai Jiu preferred light, plain dishes. Xie Jing himself had no particular cravings; occasional osmanthus rice cakes or sweet soup dumplings were enough to satisfy him. Lord Bai Jiu’s household used the finest ingredients, but everything was focused on health—ginseng and deer antler were common. He had never tasted such vibrant flavors—sour, sweet, bitter, and spicy all together.
By accident, he bit into a Sichuan peppercorn, and half his tongue went numb. He calmly ate a spoonful of rice to cover it, thinking to himself that it was lucky Lord Bai Jiu wasn’t here—he hated green Sichuan pepper.
When he was half full, the fish was served.
It was freshly poached fish—tender and fragrant in the broth.
Xie Siquan encouraged him to eat, carefully deboning it himself and giving him the fish head, showing him the little sword-shaped bone hidden in its center.
In the center of the head of a ya fish lies a bone shaped like a tiny sword, about the length of a finger joint. Xie Siquan washed it clean with tea and placed it in Xie Jing’s hand, teasing, “Put this under your pillow tonight—it’ll keep you safe.”
Xie Jing hesitated and looked toward Xu Jun.
Xu Jun said coldly, “That’s nonsense.”
Xie Siquan changed his tune: “Then it’ll bring you good luck in love! Anyway, it’s auspicious.”
“I don’t need luck in love. You keep it,” Xie Jing replied.
Grandma Kou laughed, saying, “Your uncle’s teasing you—it’s just for fun.”
Xie Siquan laughed too, turning the tiny fish-bone sword in his hand. The one they’d found today had a full hilt and looked almost like a real miniature sword—prettier than any he’d collected before.
After lunch and a short rest, Xu Jun had horses brought around. From here to Upper West River City was still a day’s journey; they’d have to stay at an inn overnight.
Xie Jing waited outside the restaurant for a while until Hu Da arrived, leading a white horse—it was Bai Shisi.
Xie Jing mounted it and rode alongside the carriage. Xu Jun rode beside him, making polite conversation, and the two quickly developed a favorable impression of each other.
Xu Jun asked, “I heard there’s a man named Li Yuan by your grandmother’s side—why didn’t I see him?”
“Oh, business matters. I sent him ahead to Rongcheng. He’ll join us soon,” Xie Jing replied.
“Ah, the Xie family has several branches in Rongcheng. If you need any help, just let me know,” said Xu Jun.
Xie Jing nodded in thanks.
In the West River, old customs persisted—relay stations every thirty li, inns every hundred and twenty. By dusk, they reached a roadside inn.
It was midsummer, so there weren’t many travelers. The large courtyard looked almost empty. Only a steward and two attendants were visible.
Dinner was simple—a copper basin the size of a washbowl filled with stewed fish, vermicelli, bean sprouts, greens, tofu—all in rich red broth.
Picky as ever, Xie Siquan ate only a few bites, then switched to a small bowl of fried rice with pickled mustard sprouts.
Xu Jun ordered a pot of chilled plum soup for him, but he only drank half a cup before setting it down, uninterested.
Xie Jing, however, ate happily.
Grandma Kou, tired from travel, went to bed early in a downstairs room. The others took rooms upstairs—Xie Jing alone in one, Xu Jun and Xie Siquan sharing another.
The weather was muggy. After washing up, Xu Jun returned to find Xie Siquan sitting on the bamboo bed, idly toying with the fish-bone sword, amused as ever.
Xu Jun poured himself tea. “How old are you now? Still playing with children’s toys?”
“When I was little, I collected these,” Xie Siquan said. “I even made my sister eat fish with me for a year just so I could find more of them. She got so sick of fish she never touched it again. I used to think, when she has a child someday, I’ll play this game with him.”
Xu Jun’s expression softened. “Little Xie’s past the age for play. If you really care, find him a good tutor.” He listed several famous teachers in the Upper City. “I’ve already sent word to the academies—they’ll take him right away. Or we can have one teach privately at home; money’s no issue.”
Xie Siquan smiled slyly. “Why are you so invested in my family’s affairs?”
“I started preparing after I got your letter—timed everything to—”
“I asked why you’re so invested,” Xie Siquan interrupted, half reclining, teasingly brushing his foot against Xu Jun’s leg.
Xu Jun’s Adam’s apple bobbed. After a pause, he said, “Because you can’t be left unsupervised. The moment I look away, you cause trouble.”
“Rubbish.”
“Last Mid-Autumn—who was it that got drunk, gambling dice in Lower City, and stripped ten men down to their trousers?”
“They lost fair and square! Not my fault!”
Xu Jun grabbed his ankle, pushing him down on the bamboo bed. “You and your tricks. If I hadn’t arrived when I did—what else would you have done?”
“It was just a drinking game—they started it first. Needed a little lesson.” Then he teased, “They say Qin folk like spice and Jin folk like sour—guess you’re the sour one.”
Xu Jun said coldly, “And you?”
“I’m the numb one. Want to taste?”
He pulled Xu Jun into a kiss—
He hooked Xu Jun’s arm around him and kissed him. Xu Jun was young and vigorous and hadn’t been with anyone for a long time. He almost succumbed to the temptation for a moment. After barely regaining his senses, he felt a tingling sensation on his lips. Xie Siquan snorted and nudged his waist with his leg, urging him to hurry up and get things done.
Xu Jun bit his lip; it was the same last time.
Xie Siquan’s letter urged him to travel up the river. After handing over the goods on the way, he didn’t even have time to check the detailed list before hurriedly dragging him to bed. After eating and drinking to their hearts’ content, Xie Siquan returned to Shanghai. The head of Xie family hadn’t returned for two months. The affairs of Sichuan were overwhelming Xu Jun, who was almost suffocating. He had prepared a lot to say to Xie Siquan, including the arrangements for the Sichuan salt fields, but now his rationality was so tightly strung that he couldn’t even keep his mind still, let alone talk about work.
Xu Jun tried his best to restrain himself: “There are so many things to do in Sichuan, and you went to Shanghai and stayed for two months. I wanted to see you this time to talk about serious business…”
Xie Siquan squinted at him and reached down: “Are you just going to talk to me like this, all stiff and unyielding?”
Xu Jun: “!!”
…
Xu Jun was still young and couldn’t control himself. He was dragged to bed again, and they didn’t even have time to talk about anything serious.
—
Later that night, Xie Jing, unused to new surroundings, couldn’t sleep. Just as he was drifting off, faint noises came from next door—furniture bumping softly. Alert, he drew a dagger from under his pillow and listened, then stepped out to knock.
“Uncle? Are you in there?”
A pause, then Xie Siquan’s voice: “Yes, I’m here. What’s wrong?”
“I heard something.”
Another silence, then, “…Nothing, I was looking for something. Go back to bed.”
Xie Jing agreed but still went downstairs to check the perimeter, dagger in hand.
Inside, Xie Siquan, sweaty and breathless, snapped, “Go out!”
Xu Jun, exasperated, hissed, “Are you even human?”
“Get out! Jing’er will come back up soon—I have to check on him!”
Xu Jun took a deep breath.
When Xie Jing returned upstairs, he saw Xu Jun standing in the hallway, fully dressed, face thunderous—as if someone owed him a fortune.
“Little Xie,” Xu Jun said stiffly, “no need to keep watch. It’s safe here.”
“Why?”
“Do you know this place’s other name—‘Zhuandou Village’? It’s where travelers entering the West River by water always stay overnight. The Xie family bought the land over a hundred years ago, using it for horses and supplies. Over time, it expanded into what you see now.” He paused. “In short—this whole area, including this inn, belongs to your family. You can sleep without worry.”
Xie Jing was stunned. He’d known the Xie family was rich, but not this rich—owning land all along the route just for rest stops.
After explaining, Xu Jun went downstairs to sleep, carrying a long robe, clearly not planning to come back up.
Xie Jing lay down and finally fell asleep.
This time, it was quiet—only the sound of distant crickets.
He slept dreamlessly through the night.
The next morning, they resumed their journey.
Xie Siquan, looking unrested, napped in the carriage until they neared Upper West River City. Stretching, he beckoned Xie Jing over. “Jing’er, is your horse obedient?” When Xie Jing nodded, he dismounted and swung up behind him on the white horse.
The horse neighed softly and trotted off smoothly. Xie Siquan sat behind, arms loosely around his nephew, taking the reins. With a soft command, they galloped ahead, leaving the convoy behind. Xu Jun called after them twice, but Xie Siquan ignored him, whispering with a grin in Xie Jing’s ear, “Uncle’s taking you to see something!”
They rode past streets and fields until they reached the open salt flats—vast and blindingly bright. Dozens of towering bamboo derricks pierced the sky, each marking a salt well. Steam rose from the rows of low houses; brawny workers shoveled half-dried brine under the blazing sun—a scene of fiery industry.
Xie Siquan urged the horse onward, the salt derricks growing denser, the sound of men chanting work songs echoing around them.
“Uncle, what are we here to see—?” Xie Jing called.
“The wells!”
Laughing in the wind, Xie Siquan pointed his whip toward the salt fields. “Remember you asked why I named you Jing? These—these are your birthday gifts. Every one of the Xie family’s hundred salt wells in the Upper West River—since the day you were born—belongs to you!”
Author’s Notes:
(1)
Xie Jing: Uncle, are you up yet?
Xie Siquan: Baby, I’m up~ ^?^
Xu Jun: …No, he’s NOT!!
(2)
On identity—
Xu Jun: “Thanks for asking. I’m merely a humble Jin merchant.”
