Chapter 21 — Sweet Fermented Rice Soup
The courtyard where Huang Mingyou lived was close by. There was even a small side gate near the east wing, so the people on both sides didn’t disturb each other. The east wing faced a small street; walk just a short distance, and there were two grocery stores and a vegetable stall—very convenient for shopping.
Zhang Huwei helped the elderly woman and the young man move in. They didn’t have much luggage, so once the furniture was arranged, the whole place looked neat and spacious.
Grandma Kou took the large room, and Xie Jing stayed next door in a small single room. There was also a well in the courtyard—the wooden bucket was still half-new and could be used directly without replacement. The old lady then went to inspect the kitchen. She had assumed that when Zhang Huwei said “small kitchen,” it must really be tiny—but it was actually bigger than their previous living room, bright and clean. On the cupboard beside the stove were freshly bought rice, flour, oil, salt, and plenty of condiments, plus a little rooster in a cage.
Inside the small room, Zhang Huwei helped Xie Jing settle Little Lizi on the bed and examined his arm injuries.
Little Lizi’s arm had bruises and thin whip marks crossing over each other—so fine they were like threads—but the lashes had barbs, tearing the skin and drawing blood. It was a frightening sight.
Gritting his teeth, Little Lizi said, “My whole body’s like this… I don’t want to take my clothes off.”
Zhang Huwei took a look, left a bottle of medicinal wine and an ointment, and instructed Xie Jing, “Clean the wounds well, apply this ointment, and use the wine to rub out the bruises. The bones aren’t hurt. He’ll recover in a few days of rest.”
Xie Jing accepted the medicine and nodded.
Outside in the yard, Grandma Kou, wearing an apron, warmly invited them to stay for lunch. “I didn’t expect you’d prepare so much! Everything’s all set—stay and eat with us!”
Zhang Huwei smiled. “I can’t, I need to get back to Lord Bai Jiu.” He was Lord Bai Jiu’s personal guard and rarely left his side.
The old lady didn’t know this and kept insisting, so Zhang Huwei left two of his men behind instead. The two were big fellows, fellow townsmen who usually called him “Master.” Since they hadn’t done much labor today, they felt embarrassed eating a meal for free at the Xie household.
Grandma Kou welcomed them heartily, first serving sweet fermented rice soup. The ingredients were simple but the taste delightful, earning everyone’s praise.
Lunch was rich. The little rooster was used to make chicken stewed with wild mushrooms, with a handful of black fungus and green peppers stir-fried for spice. There was also black fungus with scrambled eggs and braised cabbage with tofu—ordinary home dishes, but filling and delicious. The pot of rice was large, enough for everyone.
Her cooking was excellent. The chicken stew in particular was tender, the broth rich and spicy, soaking perfectly into the rice. Everyone ate until their lips shone with oil and the whole pot of rice was gone.
After they left, Xie Jing went to treat Little Lizi’s wounds.
A bowl of porridge and dishes had been set aside for Little Lizi earlier. Since he was weak, Grandma Kou had made porridge instead of rice so he could digest it easily.
When Xie Jing came in, Little Lizi lay quietly, shirt off, revealing a back covered in scars. Except for his face, every inch of his body had been beaten with whips and sticks.
In a muffled voice, Little Lizi asked, “Xie Jing… do you look down on me?”
Xie Jing was puzzled. “What?”
But Little Lizi didn’t speak again.
He only let Xie Jing treat the wounds on his back; the rest he insisted on doing himself. Xie Jing didn’t argue—he handed over the medicine and left.
He wasn’t the type to fuss. The chaos of wartime had ground his temper down. Whatever warmth was left in his heart, he reserved only for those closest to him.
Little Lizi had given him three copper coins—a favor, but not affection. A favor could be repaid; affection could not.
*
Bai Residence, East Wing
When Zhang Huwei returned, he reported everything to Lord Bai Jiu. Lord Bai Jiu, who had a soft spot for talent, frowned slightly after hearing it all.
“That little actor’s story is suspicious. He said the wounds were recent, but they’re half-healed already. And those fresh ones—the whip was odd. Thin as half a fingertip, with barbs. Reminds me of…”
He trailed off.
“Of what?” Lord Bai Jiu asked.
“It’s the kind of whip used in underground places for… punishment,” Zhang Huwei said quietly. “But I’ve never seen anyone beaten so viciously.”
Lord Bai Jiu turned a page of his book, then said evenly, “Keep an eye on him. He’s young, doesn’t understand those things.”
“Yes, sir.”
That afternoon, Xie Jing returned early to the East Wing.
Lord Bai Jiu hadn’t expected him back so soon. Smiling, he asked about his home situation and teased, “I hear the sweet fermented rice soup at lunch was quite something?”
“I’ll bring a jar back later, warm it for you tonight,” Xie Jing said seriously.
Lord Bai Jiu laughed softly. “All right, we’ll taste it together.”
That evening, the kitchen brought a steaming bowl of sweet fermented rice soup.
Lord Bai Jiu didn’t like overly sweet food, so after two sips, he pushed it toward Xie Jing.
Xie Jing had eaten it at noon already, but the second bowl warmed his stomach pleasantly. Feeling full and happy, his lips curved up unconsciously, smiling at everything he saw. After walking a few steps, though, he felt odd—his head was heavy, his eyelids drooping.
Lord Bai Jiu called his name. It took him a while to respond, eyes hazy.
“Come here,” Lord Bai Jiu beckoned.
Xie Jing stumbled over and nearly collapsed into Lord Bai Jiu’s lap, managing only to half kneel, half sit at his feet. Dazed, he looked up. “Master?”
Lord Bai Jiu waved a hand in front of his face, chuckling. “Drunk, are you?”
“Drunk?” Xie Jing echoed blankly.
Finding it amusing, Lord Bai Jiu pinched his cheek. The boy, slow to react, leaned into the touch, rubbed against Lord Bai Jiu’s palm, then hugged his leg and fell asleep.
When the night guard entered and saw the scene, he nearly yelped. Lord Bai Jiu raised a finger—“Shh”—then whispered, “Bring a blanket.”
The guard fetched it, uncertain who to cover, and handed it over.
Lord Bai Jiu draped it over the sleeping boy. Even asleep, Xie Jing clung tightly to him, afraid he’d leave. Earlier, when Lord Bai Jiu merely stood to fetch a book, Xie Jing had stirred as if to follow.
After a while, the guard murmured, “Master, should I move him to the bed?”
Lord Bai Jiu, flipping through a stack of books, said calmly, “No need. I’ll sleep here.”
The guard hesitated—there was only a hard couch, not fit for rest—but stopped when the sleeping boy made a soft sound, nuzzling closer. Lord Bai Jiu’s hand reached out absently to pat his head, and the boy settled back down.
The air was still faintly sweet with the scent of rice wine.
The guard couldn’t help smiling. Normally Xie Jing was serious and quiet, but drunk, he looked like a curled-up little wolf pup—adorable and pitiful.
Xie Jing slept through the night and woke before dawn. He remembered bits of what happened, blushing furiously. When he tried to slip away, the blanket tangled at his feet, making a soft noise.
The man on the couch stirred, voice amused. “Trying to leave already? Come here—warm me up.”
Embarrassed, Xie Jing shuffled over.
Lord Bai Jiu lifted the blanket. “It’s still cold out. You slept on the floor all night—aren’t you tired?”
Crawling under the blanket, Xie Jing realized his own body was warmer than Lord Bai Jiu’s. “Not tired. The rug in your room’s soft and thick.” He took Lord Bai Jiu’s hand, tucking it into his chest. “Is this warmer?”
Lord Bai Jiu chuckled. “Better than that snow pit the other day.”
Xie Jing’s heart swelled with tenderness. Though Lord Bai Jiu was taller, stronger, and fiercer than him, Xie Jing couldn’t help wanting to take care of him—to do something, anything, for him.
He breathed warm air onto Lord Bai Jiu’s hands, rubbed them gently, and tucked them in again.
Under the pale morning light, Lord Bai Jiu looked down at the boy’s careful movements, amused. He scratched his chin lightly. “So practiced. Do you warm your grandma’s hands like this at home too?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“What does she call you? Do you have a nickname?”
“She calls me Jing’er.”
After a pause, Lord Bai Jiu said softly, “Then I’ll call you Jing’er too.”
Xie Jing’s nose stung slightly. “Okay.”
Days passed quietly. Xie Jing served at the East Wing, and aside from occasionally fending off Bai Mingyu’s mischief, life with Lord Bai Jiu was peaceful.
Lord Bai Jiu sometimes taught him reading and arithmetic, discovering the boy was bright and attentive. Unlike young Bai Mingyu, who was always impatient, Jing’er absorbed everything quickly.
Pleased, Lord Bai Jiu decided to have both boys study under Huang Mingyou. But the moment Bai Mingyu saw Xie Jing, he exploded—furious at the idea of sharing lessons. If not for Zhang Huwei restraining him, he might have lunged to attack!
Zhang Huwei lifted him bodily, while the boy kicked midair and shouted, “You call yourself a man, Xie Jing? Come fight me outside if you’ve got guts!”
Xie Jing stayed silent.
When Lord Bai Jiu returned and saw the chaos, he sighed. “What now?”
Zhang Huwei looked helpless. “I don’t know. They were fine a minute ago—Mr. Huang just stepped out for a moment.”
Huang Mingyou returned from the latrine to find the study wrecked—ink spilled, papers trampled, his carefully written test smeared and torn. His moustache quivered in outrage. “Outrageous! A disgrace to scholars! Explain yourselves at once!”
Xie Jing kept quiet like a mute gourd. Bai Mingyu shouted instead, all insults.
“Hold his mouth!” roared the teacher, then turned to Xie Jing. “You, you’re the obedient one—tell me!”
Xie Jing said, “When sir left, Second Young Master told me…”
“Told you what?”
“To move my hand.”
“What hand?”
“I covered the test paper I’d finished—he wanted to copy.”
“Traitor! No brotherhood at all! I despise you!” Bai Mingyu screamed when he got a breath.
The teacher and Lord Bai Jiu were speechless.
That day, for the first time, the Bai family punished their young master instead of the attendant.
Huang Mingyou smacked him twice with the ruler before Lord Bai Jiu ordered, exasperated, “Drag Second Young Master back to copy a book by hand. Don’t release him until he’s finished.”
Zhang Huwei obeyed, hauling the boy out by the collar.
That evening, Xie Jing was quietly cleaning the mess when Lord Bai Jiu saw him crouched on the floor wiping ink stains, wordless as ever.
“Leave it,” Lord Bai Jiu said. “Have the servants bring a new rug.”
“Yes, sir.”
After arranging that, Xie Jing returned and gently massaged Lord Bai Jiu’s temples. When Lord Bai Jiu mentioned thirst, the boy whispered, “The kitchen just boiled fresh spring water from the mountain—perfect for tea. Shall I bring some?”
Lord Bai Jiu patted his hand. “Go ahead.”
Life had never felt this easy. The boy always seemed to know exactly what he wanted, without needing words.
Twice a month, Lord Bai Jiu gave him leave to visit home.
On one such day off, as soon as Xie Jing entered the courtyard, he heard the sound of splashing water—Grandma Kou was doing laundry at the well.
“Grandma, let me,” he said, taking the bucket from her.
“It’s fine, just half a pail, easy enough.”
He insisted, drew more water, and tested the temperature, adding hot water to avoid chilblains. As he stirred the basin, he frowned—“These aren’t your clothes.”
“Ah, they’re Lizi’s,” she said. “He’s still hurt, so I’m helping him wash.”
Xie Jing said nothing, went straight to the side room, and shoved open the door. Little Lizi, startled, sat up. “Xie Jing? You’re back! What—”
Before he finished, Xie Jing grabbed his arm, dragged him outside, and kicked the washbasin. “Wash them yourself!”
“Ah—o-okay! I’ll wash, I’ll do it!” Little Lizi rolled up his sleeves at once. He was wearing Xie Jing’s old clothes—too big on him, sleeves folded up, showing arms with half-healed scars.
Grandma Kou hesitated. “But there are my clothes in there too…”
Xie Jing said coldly, “He could crawl through a dog hole to fetch his things. He can wash his own clothes.”
Little Lizi stammered, “They—they’re mine from before. I hid them by the kennel and just got them back… they’re all I’ve got left.”
“Then take care of them yourself,” Xie Jing said flatly, then turned to his grandmother. “Grandma, this coat tore a little—please mend it. I’ll clean up the yard.”
When Xie Jing did lose his temper, he stayed angry for a long time.
He swept the yard, filled the kitchen water jars, all in silence.
Little Lizi tried several times to talk, but Xie Jing ignored him completely.
Feeling pierced by that quiet gaze, Little Lizi shrank back and focused on scrubbing clothes, cheeks burning with shame.
He had used this trick before—act pitiful, test others’ kindness, ask for favors—but Xie Jing saw right through it.
Little Lizi stayed nearly half a month, healing well. When Xie Jing came home, Little Lizi busied himself trying to be helpful, sweating nervously, desperate not to be sent away.
Grandma Kou eventually softened, letting him sit at the table.
During dinner, Little Lizi kept glancing at Xie Jing’s face, eating cautiously. Whatever Xie Jing took, he avoided, quietly eating his own small portion of rice and vegetables.
Grandma Kou, meanwhile, could only look at her grandson with pride. “You’ve been staying at the Bai residence—how is it?”
“It’s good,” he said. “Lord Bai Jiu’s teacher is teaching me to read.”
“Oh, that must be an accomplished gentleman?”
“Yes. He used to be Lord Bai Jiu’s own tutor.”
“Blessed be! Even if you don’t go to school, Grandma’s at ease now. Should we send some gifts to thank the teacher?”
Xie Jing smiled, pointing toward the opposite courtyard. “No need, he lives just next door. If you want to thank him, make another pot of chicken stew with mushrooms—he’s been wanting to try it.”
Surprised but pleased, she agreed eagerly. “Then I’ll cook for him often. Ask around quietly what he likes and dislikes so we can be thoughtful.”
“Alright.”
Little Lizi, listening nearby, flushed with envy. “Xie Jing… that Bai residence—it’s a grand place, isn’t it?”
“It’s alright.”
“Are they hiring?”
Xie Jing gave him a glance.
Little Lizi blinked. “I’ve got no capital, but I want honest work. Could you introduce me? I’d be happy just sweeping.”
“No,” said Xie Jing. “They require a guarantor.”
“Can’t you be mine?”
“I’m too young.”
“Then do you know anyone who could—”
“No.”
Xie Jing refused decisively, leaving no room for negotiation.
Little Lizi’s eyes reddened slightly, and he lowered his head to eat.
Grandma Kou explained, “The Bai family is no ordinary household. In the entire Qinghe region, you can only find one like this, and they are extremely strict. Whether it’s the servants in the mansion or the shops, they can only get in if the manager vouches for them or if someone who knows the owner well recommends and vouches for them. Jing’er is just a servant, so his words don’t count.”
Xie Jing was too lazy to explain and just buried his head in his food.
After the meal, Granny Kou brought over some sweet cakes, intending to give them to Xie Jing before he left: “Didn’t you say last time that Lord Bai Jiu likes to have some snacks with his tea? These only have a little honey in them, so they’re not too sweet. Why don’t you give some back for Lord Bai Jiu to try?”
Xie Jing agreed and packed the food into a wooden food box.
Little Lizi stared blankly at the sugar cake.
Xie Jing put all the sweet cakes into a box and prepared to take them back to the East Courtyard. After putting the box away, he brought over a bowl of sweet cakes from outside. These sweet cakes were not as good in shape as the ones in the box, which were specially cut and selected, but they all tasted the same.
Xie Jing pushed the bowl towards Little Lizi and told him to eat it.
Little Lizi’s face turned bright red as he realized his earlier lapse in decorum. Having rarely eaten anything good, he’d easily developed this habit—looking around aimlessly as soon as he entered, a habit that had earned him many beatings from the troupe leader. Once, he was so captivated by the smell of roast chicken that he wouldn’t leave, lingering around the troupe leader’s drinking table. The leader broke his mouth and slapped him several times, nearly disfiguring him.
Little Lizi lowered his head, held the bowl, and ate slowly. Soon, tears welled up in his eyes.
He raised his hand and wiped it with the back of his hand, then took a big bite of the sugar cake in his mouth.
It’s very sweet.
It’s really delicious.
Author’s Note:
Bai Mingyu: You’re the one who loves to run around like a madman, you’re the one who loves to cause trouble—Pah! Telling on others, shameless!
Zhang Huwei: Second Young Master, Master Bai Jiu said you are full of energy, so you must not be tired. He asked you to copy another book.
Bai Mingyu: ……
