Chapter 176: Extra (6)
Xie Jing was sensible and obedient. Seeing that he never cried or fussed, Mr. Huang let him move a small stool into the study and sit quietly to listen to lessons.
The boy was small and couldn’t really understand anything. When the teacher instructed Bai Jiu to read, he simply followed along and recited beside him. Though young, he had an exceptional memory — he could recall nearly everything he heard. Mr. Huang grew increasingly fond of him and would often bring candies in his pocket when he came to teach. If Xie Jing behaved well, he’d be rewarded with a few pieces.
Whenever Xie Jing received candies, he would secretly share them with Bai Jiu.
Bai Jiu didn’t particularly care for the sweets, but since he was worried about the child’s teeth, he would take a few pieces each time, pretend to eat them, and set them aside.
One day, a new student arrived at the study.
It wasn’t a stranger — it was Cao Yunzhao, a former student of Mr. Huang’s. His family held considerable power in the capital, and they had pulled some strings to have him study again under Master Huang Mingyou. The Cao and Bai families had ties going back generations, so Cao Yunzhao was allowed to attend lessons at the Bai residence.
But the moment he arrived, he sensed something unusual.
Bai Jiu sat at his usual spot by the window, reading aloud, but he seemed distracted — his gaze drifted out the window again and again.
For the first time, Mr. Huang called his name: “Bai Jiu, are you feeling unwell?”
Bai Jiu paused slightly and nodded. “I caught a chill last night. I’ll go get another layer.”
Mr. Huang nodded. “Your leg hasn’t fully healed — you mustn’t get cold. Go ahead.”
Bai Jiu rose, saluted, and slowly walked downstairs. After a while, he returned with a small cloak — not for himself, but to take to the courtyard, where he draped it over Xie Jing.
Xie Jing had been playing happily in the garden, his little nose sweating despite the winter air. When he grasped Bai Jiu’s cold hand, he said immediately, “Brother, you wear it.”
“I’m already wearing a lot.”
“Then I’ll warm you!”
Little Xie Jing threw himself into his arms like a tiny stove, looked up with crescent eyes, and his long lashes fluttered with specks of snow.
Just then, Cao Yunzhao came downstairs and froze at the sight — eyes wide in disbelief. “Bai Jiu! When did you have such a big child?”
“Watch your words. This is Xie Jing, the child of one of my elders.”
“Where are his parents?”
“They went to Bincheng to purchase ships. They’ll be back in some time.”
Finding the child adorable, Cao Yunzhao squatted down and teased, “What’s your name? How old are you? Come on, call me brother.”
Xie Jing ignored him completely. When Cao repeated the question, he finally muttered, “My mama said I shouldn’t talk to strangers.”
“Oh? Why not?”
In a crisp, childish voice, Xie Jing said, “Because strangers might be kidnappers.”
Cao Yunzhao laughed — the child was small, pretty, and sharp-tongued. The more the boy outwitted him, the more he wanted to tease him.
But Xie Jing hid in Bai Jiu’s arms. “Brother, I don’t want him to hold me. I don’t know this uncle.”
“Uncle?!” Cao Yunzhao spluttered. “Why call him brother and me uncle? I’m only a few months older!”
Xie Jing ignored him, rubbed his eyes, and yawned.
“He’s sleepy,” Bai Jiu said, picking him up.
“You’re not eating first?” Cao Yunzhao asked.
“No, I’ll eat after he wakes.”
“Then you’re not eating either?”
“I’ll nap with him.”
Cao Yunzhao stared in astonishment. He knew better than anyone that Bai Jiu was usually rigid and rule-bound — the kind of man who lived by routine and never changed. Seeing him so gentle toward a child was unheard of.
Bai Jiu smiled faintly. “It’s different when you raise one yourself.”
The attendants stepped forward to take the boy, but Bai Jiu shook his head and kept him in his arms. His leg had mostly healed, and the boy was light.
For several days, Cao Yunzhao came to the Bai residence daily, suddenly more diligent about attending lessons — mostly because he found the sight of Bai Jiu with a child so strange and fascinating.
He had always thought Bai Jiu cold and unapproachable — as if “Keep Away” were written on his forehead. But now, he saw another side.
When Mr. Huang was present, Xie Jing behaved. But during self-study hours, he would always abandon his large-character writing and sneak over to Bai Jiu’s side. When Bai Jiu looked down, the boy would blink and softly call, “Brother.”
Bai Jiu never scolded him — he’d let the child sit quietly beside him and play.
If the weather was nice, Xie Jing would tug at Bai Jiu’s hand, asking him to come play in the garden. The boy had no other playmates and was closest to him.
When Bai Jiu told him to be careful, the child would shake his head, squeeze his hand, and say sweetly, “Brother, play with me.”
Though inexperienced with children, Bai Jiu would look at him for a moment and then nod.
Cao Yunzhao, watching all this, felt equal parts amused and envious.
He even started bringing candies and pastries like Mr. Huang did, hoping to win Xie Jing’s favor. But the boy was unimpressed — he’d only take one or two pieces if Bai Jiu nodded permission.
One day, Cao Yunzhao asked, “Jing’er, don’t you like these? What do you like? Tell brother, hmm?”
Xie Jing leaned on the windowsill, thought for a bit, and asked, “Brother Cao, can you climb trees?”
“…No,” Cao Yunzhao admitted.
Then, hastily, “But I can learn!”
“Oh.” The boy lost interest and turned back to the window.
Just then, Bai Jiu approached, placing a book beside Cao Yunzhao.
“Not reading that,” Cao Yunzhao said dismissively. “Listen, Jing’er, your Brother Cao can do lots of things. My family even has Western instruments — I can play the accordion!”
“I suggest you read this book first,” Bai Jiu said calmly.
Cao Yunzhao looked down — the cover read Chess Manual.
“Mr. Huang’s been studying chess lately,” Bai Jiu added evenly. “He can’t find a worthy opponent in the household. You came back at the perfect time — he needs someone to play against.”
Cao Yunzhao nearly choked. Lowering his voice, he hissed, “You’re joking, right? Even your grandfather, even the East Courtyard men, none of them?”
Bai Jiu nodded gravely. “None.”
“…So I’m the only hope?”
“Yes,” Bai Jiu said serenely.
Tearfully, Cao Yunzhao took the chess manual and went.
Mr. Huang was brilliant in every respect — except chess. No one dared beat him, because if you won, he’d challenge you endlessly afterward; but if you lost too easily, he’d scold you for disrespect. It was a nightmare.
Meanwhile, Bai Jiu glanced at the pastry box. “Hungry?” he asked Xie Jing. “You can eat some of what Cao Yunzhao brings.”
The boy’s eyes brightened. He climbed onto Bai Jiu’s lap, munching happily while crumbs dotted his face. Bai Jiu couldn’t help wiping him clean, murmuring, “Eat slower.”
“Brother,” Xie Jing said, “I want to see the big horses.”
“After you finish your homework,” Bai Jiu replied.
And so, after writing all afternoon, he was rewarded that evening — they went to the stables, where rows of white horses stood gleaming.
Bai Jiu picked the gentlest one and lifted the boy onto the saddle, walking him around the paddock.
Xie Jing’s eyes shone. He had only ever ridden ponies at his uncle’s estate in Sichuan — never such a tall, majestic horse. After a circle, he looked up and chirped, “Brother smells nice today!”
Bai Jiu chuckled softly. “Want another round?”
“Yes!” the boy beamed.
After several months at the Bai residence, Xie Jing came to see it as “home.”
He was well loved by everyone, especially the steward, Sun Fu, who indulged his every whim. Slowly, he stopped crying for his mother.
Near the end of each month, however, he’d still count the days on his fingers — a new skill he had learned — waiting for his parents’ return. He could now read clocks, dress himself, and even do simple chores.
Bai Jiu, too, had grown accustomed to the little shadow following him everywhere. When the boy wasn’t around, something felt missing.
One trip took Bai Jiu out of town for several days. When he finally returned, moonlight already bathed the quiet courtyard. All was dark except for the western wing, where a faint light glowed.
He entered and smelled the bitter scent of medicine. Inside, maids bustled around, and Steward Sun was questioning a physician. Upon seeing Bai Jiu, he rushed forward. “Young master, you’re back!”
Bai Jiu removed his cloak. “Jing’er’s sick?”
“Yes,” Steward Sun said worriedly. “He was fine at noon — wanted sweet rice dumplings and ate a bowl. By nightfall he was burning up, vomiting everything he ate. The doctor can’t determine the cause…”
Bai Jiu strode to the bed, touched the boy’s forehead — scorching hot. “Then summon every doctor in the city, both Chinese and Western. Send guards to Fengtian if needed!”
Steward Sun hurried to obey.
On the bed, the small boy lay curled up, tears rolling silently down his flushed cheeks.
Bai Jiu’s chest tightened. He gently called his name. When Xie Jing recognized him, he reached out weakly. Bai Jiu gathered him close. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “Brother’s here. I’ll find the best doctor — you’ll be fine soon.”
“Brother…” the boy murmured, clutching his sleeve.
The old master of the Bai family, awakened by the commotion, entered with a lantern and saw his grandson cradling the tear-streaked child, soothing him patiently. Smiling faintly, the old man said quietly to the attendants, “Let A-Jiu watch over him tonight. The house could use a bit of liveliness.”
The next morning, Xie Jing’s fever broke. From then on, he ate and slept under Bai Jiu’s care.
When his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Xie, arrived in haste, his mother, Xie Yuanyuan, stayed several days to nurse him. The boy was overjoyed — with his mother coaxing him, he drank medicine obediently and proudly showed her his calligraphy.
As Bai Jiu had told him: Eat well, and Mother will come to see you.
A few days later, when she left, Xie Jing returned to Bai Jiu’s room. That night, he couldn’t sleep and hooked his little finger around Bai Jiu’s. Bai Jiu grasped it gently.
“Sleep,” he murmured.
“Brother,” the boy whispered, “where’s your mother?”
“She lives far away.”
“Do you also have to eat well to see her?”
Bai Jiu hugged him close, chin resting atop his head. “I have to do more — and better — before I can see her.”
“That’ll take a long time,” the child sighed.
“Yes,” Bai Jiu said softly after a pause. “A long time.”
Cao Yunzhao adored Xie Jing, though the boy didn’t much like him back — his eyes were only for Bai Jiu.
Like a baby bird imprinting on its parent, from the moment he saw Bai Jiu, he recognized only him.
Cao Yunzhao was both jealous and fascinated, but soon learned that the best way to win the child’s favor was to tell stories about Bai Jiu.
“Your brother Bai is amazing,” he said one day. “He got that leg injury in Qinghe — saved many people there!”
Hearing praise for Bai Jiu, Xie Jing listened intently, chin propped on his tiny hands.
Cao Yunzhao’s romantic imagination took over — he dramatized the rescue into a heroic legend.
When Bai Jiu entered midway and overheard, he gave Cao Yunzhao a light rap with a book. “Watch your words,” he said, frowning.
“Can’t even praise you?” Cao Yunzhao muttered.
Undeterred, he turned back to the boy. “Jing’er, how about a story from Journey to the West? You like that one?”
Giggling, the boy said, “I know that one! Sun Wukong has his Golden Cudgel — and Brother Cao Yunzhao eats ginseng fruit!”
Cao Yunzhao laughed, then pretended outrage and tickled him. “Nonsense! Your Brother Bai is Pigsy — he’s the one who eats ginseng fruit!”
“Ahahaha!”
Seeing them play, Bai Jiu called Xie Jing over and handed him a small crabapple.
The boy’s eyes lit up. He loved that sweet-sour taste and opened his mouth for a bite.
Cao Yunzhao could only watch enviously — if only he’d brought fruit himself.
At dinner that evening, Bai Jiu didn’t see Xie Jing. A servant reminded him, “Young master forgot — Madam He sent for him this morning. He’s home for a few days.”
Bai Jiu blinked, then remembered — right, it was the end of the month, time for the child’s visit home.
Even Cao Yunzhao forgot. The next day he arrived with a box of pastries, only to find the boy gone, and sighed heavily.
Bai Jiu ignored him, eyes drifting to the quiet garden below — the same as always, except without the familiar small figure.
Over lunch, Cao Yunzhao poked half-heartedly at his food. “I even had lion’s head meatballs made. Jing’er loved those. Now he’s gone, this meal’s lost its flavor.”
Bai Jiu ate as usual, then returned to his books.
Three days later, as dusk fell, he entered the East Courtyard and immediately heard a child’s voice. His steps quickened.
At the door, a small boy rushed toward him, clutching a cloth tiger doll. Leaping into his arms, he held up the toy. “Brother! For you!”
Bai Jiu lifted him naturally, asking about his days at home.
“Mother cooked lots of yummy food, and Father bought me sugar figures and this cloth tiger!” Xie Jing proudly held it up. “One for you, one for me!”
Bai Jiu chuckled, accepting the gift.
Then the boy produced candies, snacks, even his precious rattle drum — piling them all beside Bai Jiu as though offering tribute.
Bai Jiu sat cross-legged, chin resting on his hand, and fed him another crabapple.
“Brother,” Xie Jing murmured shyly, “I’m sorry.”
“Oh? For what?”
“I gave half my mama to you.”
Bai Jiu blinked, then laughed softly and kissed his forehead. “That’s all right. Having you is enough.”
“I’ll stay, then,” the boy said earnestly. “To warm your bed!”
Warm indeed — like a little stove. Even asleep, he was careful not to press against Bai Jiu’s injured leg.
That night, Bai Jiu couldn’t sleep. He half reclined with a book, then looked down at the child and gently pinched his cheek.
Whatever Xie Jing’s mother had told him, his pure, thoughtful heart melted even Bai Jiu’s long-frozen one.
Outside, the season’s first snow drifted softly past the window. Inside, warmth filled the bed as the two slept peacefully in each other’s arms.
As the New Year approached, guests arrived at the Bai residence — relatives from Qinghe, including a small boy about Xie Jing’s age.
The moment they entered, the boy bowed solemnly. “Happy New Year, Lord Bai Jiu! I wish you health and longevity—”
A servant hurriedly covered his mouth. “That greeting’s for the old master, not him!”
Bai Jiu chuckled, handing the boy a red envelope. “No matter — it works for me too.”
The boy, Bai Mingyu, stood tall and sturdy, unafraid of strangers — until he spotted the delicate child in Bai Jiu’s lap.
He had never seen someone so fair, nor a child so spoiled that he needed help putting on shoes.
Xie Jing reclined lazily in Bai Jiu’s arms, watching him with curiosity.
After Bai Jiu helped him with his boots, he said gently, “No more taking them off, understood? If I catch you again, you’re not leaving the room today.”
The boy pouted, earning a soft laugh and a pat on the head. “Go on, play — just stay in the courtyard.”
The Qinghe visitors smiled. “So this is Jing’er? He’s about Mingyu’s age. Mingyu, play with him, but stay nearby and watch over him.”
“Yes, sir,” Bai Mingyu said dutifully.
But before he could move, Xie Jing was already at the door, eager to run into the snowy garden.
