Chapter 15 — Laba Porridge
On the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month.
Xie Jing had bartered for a bit of grain in the small village and brought it back to cook Laba porridge [1].
The small stove was set up indoors. Using an earthen pot, Xie Jing simmered the porridge over a steady flame until the grains blossomed. The fragrant steam of rice and assorted beans filled the air, the unique taste and aroma of the porridge so tempting that it stirred hunger from deep inside.
Bai Rongjiu set his book aside, his nose twitching slightly. “What did you put in there? It smells so good.”
Xie Jing kept his eyes on the little pot. “There wasn’t much to find. When I went to trade for grain, I happened to see a few walnuts left, so I bought two, ground them into powder, and cooked them into the porridge.”
Bai Rongjiu smiled. “That’s quite a clever trick. Where did you learn it?”
Xie Jing answered honestly, “From my grandmother. She knows how to make lots of tasty things. When we go back home, if Lord Bai Jiu wants to eat, I’ll learn more from her.” Perhaps afraid Lord Bai Jiu would think little of him, he quickly added, “I learn fast—and I can cook, too.”
“Oh? What else can you make? Tell me your specialties.”
“Puffed rice candy, steamed rice cakes, I can also braise meat, and make some home-style dishes.”
Bai Rongjiu teased him, “You can do so much—when we return, I’ll leave the small kitchen to you then.”
Xie Jing, taking him seriously, nodded and agreed earnestly.
The small stove burned on, and as the porridge simmered longer, the fragrance filled the whole room.
The little pot of porridge had been stewing for half a day. The texture grew thick, the grains sank beneath a translucent layer of liquid, and the aroma rose with the steam. In the cold weather, a bowl of such hot, sweet porridge made one’s stomach feel wonderfully warm and satisfied.
While drinking his porridge, Bai Rongjiu glanced out the window and noticed a small ice lantern placed by the courtyard gate.
It looked familiar. After a moment of thought, he asked, “Those two ice lanterns at the front of the trading post—did you make them too?”
Xie Jing, whose tongue had just been burned by the hot porridge, was blowing gently on his spoon as he sipped. Hearing the question, he mumbled through his mouthful, “Yes.”
The more Bai Rongjiu looked at the boy, the more he liked him.
By afternoon, Xie Jing suddenly heard the white horse outside neigh twice. He hurried out to look, and upon seeing who had arrived, his heart immediately settled.
People from the Bai family in Qinghe County had come—around twenty or thirty of them, all on horseback. Many carried rifles, and they brought a sturdy wagon and a doctor. The moment they arrived, the doctor was sent in to check on Lord Bai Jiu’s injuries.
The guard who had once fought with twin pistols was among them, his face slightly frostbitten and swollen, but otherwise fine.
After examining Bai Rongjiu, the doctor said repeatedly, “No serious issue, no serious issue—it’s just a surface wound. Once he’s brought back and rests for a while, he’ll recover. I’ve brought ointment with me; we’ll change the dressing in the carriage shortly.”
The Bai family’s rescue party was large and imposing, attracting many curious village children. But with so many escorts, there was no longer any fear of danger or mishap.
Bai Rongjiu sat in the carriage, wrapped in a thick fur cloak, eyes closed as he listened to his guards report.
“Madam Fang Yurou and the child have been safely delivered. Both mother and son are well. The Bai family’s eldest young master was fortunate—he ran into a patrol of returning cavalry and was protected, only suffering a fright. As for the Heihe trading house, half a warehouse was burned, two workers died, and the second young master of the Bai family was slightly injured. He’s been taken home for treatment and will recover in a few months. The soldiers in Heihe have already begun lockdown measures, and preparations to eliminate the bandits will start after the New Year.”
“We lost one man and had three injured. I’ve sent a wagon to escort them back to the provincial capital and to inform the old master.”
“How long have you been on the road?”
“Two days ago. We waited for the messenger you sent before daring to report.”
“Good.”
…
The carriage was spacious. Xie Jing, curled in a corner, began to doze off. The thick blankets and the small heater made the gentle swaying of the carriage almost hypnotic.
While Bai Rongjiu was still giving instructions to his men, he glanced up and saw Xie Jing’s head drooping, tilting to one side. The hand warmer he held slipped onto the blanket, muffled by the thick fur, making no sound and not waking the sleeping boy.
Bai Rongjiu paused. “Bring me a blanket.”
The guard quickly fetched a heavy fur blanket—everything in this carriage was what Lord Bai Jiu usually used, for he disliked the cold and traveled well-prepared.
Bai Rongjiu pointed at the sleeping youth in the corner and said softly, “Cover him up.”
The guard hesitated for a moment but obeyed, gently covering Xie Jing with the blanket.
They had already traveled far from Qinghe County. On the return journey, they deliberately avoided the main mountain routes, taking a safer path that still took a full day and night.
No one else ever sat in Lord Bai Jiu’s carriage, and certainly no one had ever slept beside him.
Perhaps because of the days spent together in the small village—Xie Jing constantly warming his bedding—Bai Rongjiu found that he didn’t mind the boy’s presence at all. Eating and living together didn’t bother him. What’s more, Xie Jing was perceptive; when Bai Rongjiu had business to discuss, the boy would quietly excuse himself to ride outside. Once things settled, he would return—and he wasn’t lazy about it either, since he was always the one who carefully changed the bandages.
But if Bai Rongjiu didn’t chase him off, Xie Jing would stay in the carriage, often falling asleep in the corner afterward.
Bai Rongjiu found it amusing. He had covered the boy with a blanket several times, but Xie Jing’s youthful energy was too strong—before long his cheeks would flush from the warmth, and he’d push the furs down, half-asleep, with his head poking out.
*
When they were near Qinghe County, Xie Jing voluntarily climbed back into Lord Bai Jiu’s carriage.
After serving tea and water diligently for a while, he sidled closer, clearly trying to please him by helping more.
Bai Rongjiu looked up from his book. “Go on, what do you want?”
Xie Jing spoke softly. “I want to ask for forgiveness.”
“Oh?”
“I—I lied.”
Xie Jing knelt obediently and confessed everything about how he and Kou Pei Feng had swapped names. When he finished, he looked up carefully, his eyes wet and glistening, like a puppy begging forgiveness.
Bai Rongjiu was silent for a long time before the book in his hand lightly tapped the boy’s head. “No more lying?”
“No! I wouldn’t lie to you—not even a single word!”
“Good.”
Xie Jing clutched his head, staring at him in confusion, still waiting for more words.
Bai Rongjiu gave a short laugh and waved a hand. “Go on. I understand. But from now on, if you’re going to stay by my side, no more such foolish tricks.”
Xie Jing left the carriage cheerfully and went to ride his horse, full of energy.
The convoy finally stopped at the Bai residence in Qinghe.
Several people had been waiting by the gate; even the Bai family’s old master stood there anxiously. When he saw Lord Bai Jiu’s carriage approach, he hurried forward, forgetting all propriety.
Also waiting were Bai Mingzhe and his wife. Fang Yurou was bundled up in thick clothes and a fur hat; despite the cold, she insisted on coming to personally thank her savior.
One of Bai Rongjiu’s men stepped forward and helped only the old master into the carriage, stopping the others.
“Lord Bai Jiu says he’s injured and cannot get down. Everyone’s been through enough fright already. Go home and rest well for a few days; there’s no need to visit him. Only the old master may come in to speak for a bit. The rest, please return.”
Footnotes:
[1] Laba porridge is a traditional Chinese porridge made from a mix of grains, beans, nuts, and dried fruits, typically prepared on the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month for the Laba Festival. It is a nutritious and flavorful dish that symbolizes good luck, abundance, and is seen as a prelude to the Chinese New Year.
