Chapter 177: Extra (7)
Snow had fallen over the courtyard, crunching crisply underfoot. Little Xie Jing ran a full circle through it, his loose hair tied with several amber beads. A tiny pouch hung from his waist, with silver bells that jingled wherever he went.
Bai Mingyu, who had grown up in the northern lands, wasn’t particularly amazed by snow. Yet he couldn’t help sneaking glances at that beautiful child.
Xie Jing ran up and grabbed his hand, trying to drag him toward the persimmon tree. Bai Mingyu shook his head repeatedly. “You can’t climb that!”
Xie Jing blinked. “Why not?”
“Girls can’t climb trees,” Bai Mingyu said solemnly.
“I’m a boy!” Xie Jing put his hands on his hips, indignant.
Bai Mingyu looked at his loose hair and his bright, flowery clothes, confused. “Then why are you dressed so fancy?”
Xie Jing puffed out his chest proudly. “My uncle dresses even fancier than this!”
Children always adored their uncles. Xie Siquan wore the most flamboyant colors year-round, and in Sichuan people loved vivid fabrics anyway—men and women alike often wore amber or gemstone ornaments. So, Xie Jing didn’t take the comment as an insult at all. To him, it was praise.
Seeing his confidence, Bai Mingyu became even more certain that this was a spoiled, delicate child.
Xie Jing hadn’t had playmates for a long time, so he was delighted to see someone his age. “Do you dare to compete with me?” he challenged.
Bai Mingyu could never resist a dare. “I dare! Compete in what?”
“Tree climbing! Let’s see who can climb higher!”
In the main hall, Bai Jiu was discussing business with some visitors from Qinghe when he suddenly heard noise from the courtyard. He stood, pushed the door open—and saw a group of servants gathered under the tree, coaxing two children to come down.
Bai Jiu looked up. The little monkey on the left (Xie Jing) obediently climbed down at once. The other (Bai Mingyu) wasn’t so lucky—his legs were shaking, and he was about to cry. “Father, it’s too high! My legs are weak… I can’t get down!”
The old master of the Qinghe Bai family was furious. While ordering his eldest son to help retrieve the younger, he hastily apologized to Bai Jiu.
Bai Jiu glanced down at Xie Jing, who was clinging to his leg coquettishly, and just shook his head. “It’s fine. The tree was too tall—just be more careful next time.” He brushed the snow from Xie Jing’s hair and ruffled it fondly. “Can’t leave you alone for even a moment.”
Bai Mingyu not only lost the climbing contest but was scolded by both his father and elder brother that night. Feeling wronged and pitiful, he cried bitterly. He thought everyone—his father, his brother, even Bai Jiu—was siding with that Xie Jing.
That evening, a servant came with a message: “Elder Lord Bai, our Lord Bai Jiu says he thinks the young second master is quite good and would like him to stay in the provincial capital for a few more days.”
Bai Mingzhe smiled and comforted his little brother, “See? I told you, Lord Bai Jiu likes you!”
Though still sulky, Bai Mingyu perked up at that and stopped crying, wiping his tears before digging into dinner with new energy.
Elsewhere.
Bai Jiu personally delivered New Year gifts to the Xie family, paying respects to Xie Yuanyuan and He Dongting as a junior.
He Dongting had gained much over the past year in the north and now had merchants visiting frequently. When Bai Jiu’s carriage stopped at the gate—its emblem visible—none of the guests dared act casually.
In the inner courtyard, Xie Yuanyuan received him. Little Xie Jing, on holiday, sat beside her munching candied crabapples. When he saw Bai Jiu enter, he beamed and held up his half-eaten fruit. “Brother, eat this!”
“Don’t! Take a new one—” Xie Yuanyuan began, but Bai Jiu bent down and took a bite directly from the one in the child’s hand.
Seeing that, Xie Yuanyuan could only laugh helplessly and pour him tea. “Jing’er has always been spoiled—especially back in Sichuan. His uncle dotes on him so much that he believes every snack or sweet he holds is a treasure.”
Bai Jiu smiled. “It tastes sweeter than what we have at home.”
“How could it compare to your household’s delicacies?” Xie Yuanyuan said. “He just enjoys the novelty of it.”
They chatted pleasantly for a while. Bai Jiu invited the couple to the Bai residence for the New Year performance.
“Mr. Huang will be there too,” Bai Jiu said. “He only takes a few days off—classes resume on the fifth.”
“He’s not returning home?”
“Not this year.”
“Then we’ll come join the fun,” Xie Yuanyuan said, holding her son. “But Jing’er is still young and restless. I’m afraid he’ll disturb you and the old master’s peace.”
Bai Jiu shook his head. “There’s another child about his age at my place. They can play together.”
That caught her interest, and she agreed.
A few days later, the Xie couple went to deliver holiday gifts to Mr. Huang, thanking him for his teaching.
Mr. Huang was very fond of Xie Jing and praised him repeatedly.
Familiar with the Bai estate after a year there, Xie Jing slipped away while the adults talked, running back to the eastern courtyard. Firecracker scraps still dotted the snow from the morning celebration.
Steward Sun Fu spotted him and called, “Little ancestor, slow down!”
But Xie Jing didn’t listen. He ran to the study, lifted the cotton curtain, and peeked inside. Spotting Bai Jiu, he chirped brightly, “Brother!”
Bai Jiu was putting on a heavy cloak. Seeing him, he smiled. “Why are you here so early? Have you had breakfast?”
Xie Jing nodded, tilting his head curiously.
“I’m going out for a while,” Bai Jiu said as he fastened his cloak. “You wait at home.”
Xie Jing clung to his leg, pleading.
Bai Jiu sighed, picked him up, and told a servant, “Go tell Madam Xie I’ll take Jing’er with me and bring him back after noon.”
The boy burrowed right into his cloak, his little hands hooked around Bai Jiu’s neck, nestled into the warm fur and refusing to come out. Bai Jiu chuckled softly and ordered a carriage prepared—riding horseback would have been easier alone, but with a child, the carriage was better.
He went to deliver gifts to the Governor’s Mansion, speaking briefly with his uncle and cousins. The atmosphere there, full of soldiers, was loud and boisterous. Fearing the noise would scare the child, he let servants take Xie Jing outside to watch the fish instead.
Even in winter, the fish under the thin ice swam lazily, their shadows gliding through the pale water.
Xie Jing crouched by the pond, watching intently, giving each fish a name.
When they left, Bai Jiu refused all other gifts but took those few fish home in a glass jar. The boy stared at them the whole way back.
When Bai Mingyu came with his father and brother to pay respects to Bai Jiu, he saw that delicate child again—standing beside Bai Jiu, both peering into a jar of fish.
The eastern courtyard didn’t have a pond, so Bai Jiu had instructed servants to set crystal-clear glass sheets over lotus urns to mimic the ice surface at the Governor’s Mansion.
“Mother once bought fish for me too,” Xie Jing told him, holding his hand. “She bought a lot, and we raised them for a long time.”
“Oh?”
“When they got big enough—we ate them.”
He said it seriously, then giggled to himself.
Bai Jiu chuckled softly.
Bai Mingyu came over, bowed properly, and greeted him.
That afternoon, Bai Jiu had other matters to attend to, so he sent the two children off to eat together. Xie Jing was reluctant, only letting go after being coaxed for a long time—and before leaving, he made Bai Jiu pinky promise: “Brother, you’ll come fetch me tonight!”
Bai Jiu smiled. “Alright. I’ll take you for sweet glutinous dumplings.”
“Mm!”
Bai Mingyu, usually a pampered little tyrant at home, had been strictly reminded to behave while in the provincial capital. Still, when he saw Xie Jing, his jealousy flared.
Xie Jing, unaware, cheerfully played with his new friend.
Though older by a few months, Bai Mingyu was thinner from poor appetite after family troubles. Only his feet were slightly larger.
Xie Jing ate heartily. Seeing how little Bai Mingyu ate, he said earnestly, “You came to play with me, so you need to eat more. Eat more to grow tall and run fast—otherwise you can’t keep up with me!”
He meant it kindly, but Bai Mingyu flushed and slammed the table. “Nonsense! You came to play with me!”
Xie Jing laughed and mimicked, “You came to play with me!”
Bai Mingyu stammered in frustration, speechless.
Xie Jing was just at the age of parroting others, and he’d been praised for it back home. But this time, it only made his new friend angry. Seeing Bai Mingyu upset, Xie Jing pouted. “You’re no fun. I’m leaving!”
He slid off the chair to go, and Bai Mingyu chased after him with a red date bun in hand—only to realize he really couldn’t catch up.
After running all afternoon, he came back starving and ate a huge bowl of rice that night.
And so, after a few days of chasing and quarreling, the young master’s poor appetite was miraculously cured. He even began talking more and dreaming about how to out-argue Xie Jing the next day.
He stayed in the capital for nearly a month, challenging Xie Jing at everything.
The two argued so often that Steward Sun Fu finally took them both to Bai Jiu for judgment.
Before Bai Mingyu could even speak, Xie Jing had already run up, calling sweetly, “Brother!” and threw himself into Bai Jiu’s arms.
Bai Mingyu felt wronged and tugged at Bai Jiu’s robe hem, bursting into tears.
Bai Jiu looked down at one child in his arms and one at his feet. “What are we competing in today?”
“Wrestling!” Bai Mingyu declared angrily.
“Fighting is not proper,” Bai Jiu said mildly. “Let’s make it a contest of learning instead.”
Both froze. Neither had been doing much studying lately.
Xie Jing tried, “Brother, can we compete in something else?”
“What can you do?”
“I can ride horses, recognize herbs, and eat by myself!” he said proudly.
Bai Mingyu: “…”
Bai Jiu chuckled, pinching his nose. “No, it must be fair—let’s compare music, chess, calligraphy, and painting.”
They didn’t know how to play the qin, so Sun Fu sent someone to buy two cheap erhus instead—call it a draw. In chess, Bai Mingyu lost narrowly. In calligraphy, though Bai Mingyu had started earlier, he was mediocre; Xie Jing forfeited immediately, afraid his teacher would see how much he’d regressed.
With one win and one loss, only painting remained.
Neither was very skilled. Bai Mingyu put all his effort into painting a rooster, smearing ink all over his face. Xie Jing accidentally knocked over the inkstone, spilling a long streak across the white paper.
Bai Jiu hadn’t expected that. Seeing the child’s anxious little hands gripping the brush all wrong, he finally couldn’t resist helping. He took Xie Jing’s hand and guided him.
“Brother, help me!” Xie Jing pleaded, eyes shining.
Bai Jiu hesitated, then nodded gently. “Alright.”
He turned the paper sideways. The spilled ink bled like waves, and he drew a small boat upon it—turning a mess into a tranquil seascape. Then, holding Xie Jing’s hand, he wrote eight characters beside it:
“Ten thousand streams flow to the sea; one wood becomes a boat.”
Xie Jing’s accidental smear had transformed into poetry.
Just then, Mr. Huang and He Dongting entered. Mr. Huang, seeing the painting, praised, “Unbound by form, unshackled in heart—excellent!”
He Dongting also admired it, though more impressed by Bai Jiu himself—elegant, well-educated, composed. He couldn’t find a single flaw… and half the painting had been done by his own son’s splattered ink!
Bai Jiu saluted the elders, then said to the children, “Mingyu’s drawing is simple and honest, Jing’er’s painting isn’t entirely his own. Let’s call it a tie.”
He sent them off with candies and pastries to share.
Children hold no grudges. Soon they were friends again, climbing trees together.
—
Time flew.
Xie Jing turned eight.
His formal schooling had been delayed again and again. The three-year stay became nearly five.
When the Xie family finally moved back south, Xie Siquan personally led an escort from Sichuan to fetch them.
At first, Xie Jing was thrilled. But soon he came running back, nearly in tears. “Brother, come with me!”
Bai Jiu sat still. “I can’t. I have to stay here.”
Xie Jing clung to his arm, crying. “Brother, come to my home too!”
Bai Jiu drew him closer and stroked his hair gently. “Not today. But in a few years, I’ll come find you.”
Xie Jing wept until his face was streaked and blotchy, but he couldn’t convince him. Finally, Uncle Xie Siquan picked him up and carried him away.
On his shoulder, the boy sobbed softly, still calling back, “Brother, don’t forget to find me!”
Bai Jiu stood watching them leave. Only when the carriage vanished did he exhale and whisper, “Alright.”
Five years of living together—Xie Jing couldn’t bear to part, and neither could Bai Jiu.
After returning to Sichuan, they kept writing letters.
With Western fashions spreading, Xie Jing even sent photographs—always choosing the best to mail north. But distance and time took their toll; their letters came less and less often.
