Chapter 6 – Study Companion
Bai Mingyu took him to the main kitchen. The seven or eight cooks there didn’t dare to stop the young master and could only let him fool around.
Bai Mingyu wasn’t really craving rice cakes; he just wanted to find a place to hide—didn’t want his father to find him, and even less did he want to go kowtow to that “Master Bai Jiu” who had arrived a few days ago.
Xie Jing knew how to cook. In the past, whenever Lord Bai Jiu got hungry at night, he’d go to the small kitchen and make something. His cooking wasn’t particularly refined, but steaming some rice cakes was easy enough to fool Bai Mingyu.
He deliberately made it look complicated. Bai Mingyu sat on a small stool nearby, a blade of grass dangling between his lips, swinging it lazily, not rushing him.
Bai Mingyu wasn’t in a hurry, but the others in the residence were.
Before long, a servant came to the kitchen looking for him.
Bai Mingyu left unwillingly. “Didn’t they say one bow a day would do? Why’s there so much fuss!”
“The master’s asking for you—he’s been waiting. Now that the eldest young master’s home, you both should go together to pay respects…” The servant coaxed and scolded until Bai Mingyu finally left.
After taking two steps, Bai Mingyu turned back and pointed at Xie Jing. “Hey, you—what’s your name?”
“Kou Pei Feng,” Xie Jing replied.
Bai Mingyu said, “Do it properly. When it’s done, bring the rice cakes to my room.”
Xie Jing nodded.
The kitchen staff couldn’t figure out where this boy came from. He didn’t speak much, just tended the fire quietly and focused on steaming the rice cakes. No one came to fetch him for lunch, but the cooks shared some food with him. The meals were good, and Xie Jing ate heartily.
When the rice cakes were nearly done, he asked the cooks for some honey to drizzle on top. In the northern lands, flowers were scarce, and honey was expensive. Ordinary families used crushed rock sugar as candy for children. Fortunately, this was the Bai residence—they had a whole jar of honey stored away.
Xie Jing carried the rice cakes over to Bai Mingyu’s courtyard. Barely two hours had passed before the Bai family’s little tyrant was lying in bed.
Bai Mingyu had been given a severe beating by his father—his backside was swollen and bruised.
Now he lay on his carved redwood bed, crying and wailing, snot and tears all over. He refused to let the physician touch him. His elder brother Bai Mingzhe was frantic, tearing off his shredded pants and applying medicine.
“Big brother, I don’t want to stay in this house anymore—take me away!” Bai Mingyu begged.
Bai Mingzhe, both angry and amused, said, “Nonsense. You’ve been slacking off on your studies. You couldn’t answer a single question Father asked, and then you made things up in front of everyone!”
“Father only cares about saving face! Just because I got a few questions wrong, he beat me like that—just to look good in front of guests. Ever since that man came, I haven’t had a single good day…”
“Silence!” Bai Mingzhe scolded. “That gentleman isn’t someone you can talk about.”
Bai Mingyu snorted but didn’t dare say more.
Seeing his little brother’s pale face scrunched up in pain, Bai Mingzhe softened. “Just study properly. Father was only angry because you skipped class. Be good from now on. Oh—by the way, I brought back something new for you this time. Don’t you like those Mauser guns the foreigners use? I brought one for you.”
“Really?”
“Of course. And two boxes of bullets. Once you recover, I’ll have someone take you hunting.”
Bai Mingzhe soothed him a while longer, then warned the servants to take good care of the young master before hurrying off.
The courtyard fell quiet. No one dared approach the little tyrant. Normally, Bai Mingyu already had a bad temper—now, with a bruised backside treated with painful ointment, he was worse. Even the maid who brought him tea was scolded and had her teacup smashed.
Xie Jing came into the small hall but didn’t go in further. He sat by the door with the basket of rice cakes and waited.
Only when night fell and Bai Mingyu was too tired to keep shouting did he bring the food in.
Bai Mingyu lay facedown on the bed, barely opening his eyes. “What’s that?”
“Rice cakes.”
“Why’d you bring them so late?”
“They needed to cool and soak in the flavor.”
He’d refused dinner earlier out of anger, but now his stomach growled. Hearing Xie Jing’s explanation, he relented and let him feed him a few bites.
The cooled rice cakes were soft and glutinous, the honey fully absorbed—sweet and fragrant, deliciously comforting.
Bai Mingyu ate several large pieces, then frowned mid-bite. “Did you wash your hands?”
“I did,” Xie Jing said.
Satisfied, Bai Mingyu ate another chunk straight from his hand.
After feeding him and pouring water, Xie Jing sat quietly while Bai Mingyu began to complain.
“Sometimes I envy you guys. You can go wherever you want, don’t have to study or get hit. A few days ago, that so-called ‘Master Bai Jiu’ came from the provincial government—so stiff, face like an ice block, never says a word. Yesterday I was annoyed he wouldn’t talk, and today, just because my big brother’s back, he not only tested him but also me! I mean, he’s the chief manager—why test me too?” Bai Mingyu smacked his bed angrily. “He just scoffed and shook his head, and then Father beat me with a board this wide—as if I weren’t his own son!”
Xie Jing glanced at his back. Even through the thin blanket, he could see blood seeping through. The beating had been brutal.
Eyes reddening, Bai Mingyu asked, “Does your father hit you too?”
Xie Jing paused. “I don’t have a father.”
“…”
The Bai family’s little tyrant turned away awkwardly, muttering under his breath.
That night, Xie Jing stayed to watch over him. Bai Mingyu was strong; despite the beating, he didn’t get a fever. By morning, he ate two baskets of steamed dumplings and was back to his lively self.
This time, though, Master Bai didn’t let things slide. Since Bai Mingyu couldn’t go to school, he brought a tutor to lecture at his bedside.
Xie Jing stood quietly by. Much of the lesson he already knew—he’d learned it all years ago while following Lord Bai Jiu. The local tutor wasn’t particularly learned; he even misinterpreted a few lines. Xie Jing noticed but kept silent.
Bai Mingyu, still sulking, plugged his ears and refused to listen.
“Master Bai,” said the tutor sternly, “if you continue like this, I’ll fetch the ruler—”
“Go ahead!” Bai Mingyu shouted. “Beat me so bad I can’t get out of bed for half a month! Then I won’t have to kowtow to that old man in the east courtyard!”
The tutor, fuming, turned instead to Xie Jing. “Kou Pei Feng, hands out!”
Xie Jing blinked, then slowly extended his hand. The ruler came down hard.
“Why are you hitting him?!” Bai Mingyu roared.
“Since the young master won’t study, his attendant must not be strict enough. You’re hurt and can’t be punished—so your study companion will take three strikes on your behalf.”
Crack, crack—two more followed.
Bai Mingyu’s face darkened. Though arrogant, he was fiercely protective of his own. To have his servant beaten was like being slapped himself. Gritting his teeth, he finally opened his book and started to read.
At least the rest of the afternoon passed without incident.
But when the tutor left, Bai Mingyu began acting up again. He didn’t want to copy texts.
He tossed his brush aside, scowling. “How am I supposed to write lying down? My back still hurts like hell—I can’t write a single word!”
Seeing no one else around, Xie Jing whispered, “I can write.”
“You can read?” Bai Mingyu asked, surprised.
Xie Jing nodded, picked up the brush, and wrote a few characters. Bai Mingyu’s eyes lit up. “A bit messier—yes, like that! Perfect!”
Xie Jing copied the homework for him, working late into the night by lamplight.
The candle flame flickered as he bent over the table, brush moving silently. The light stretched his shadow long across the floor, evoking memories.
He’d lived through wartime shortages—no electricity, often no kerosene lamps either. He used to clutch Lord Bai Jiu’s spirit tablet, hiding with the refugees, and when he was lucky enough to have a few candles, he’d spend the nights copying Buddhist sutras by that dim light. He never knew if it helped—but he had to do something for Lord Bai Jiu. He kept writing like that, for years.
The next day, trouble came.
Xie Jing had written too much.
Even when healthy, Bai Mingyu never turned in complete assignments. The tutor was used to it. But now, he received a thick stack of papers filled with words. The handwriting was messy, yes—but clearly not the work of the Bai family’s little tyrant.
The tutor’s face darkened. He lifted the ruler again. “Kou Pei Feng—hands out!”
“…”
Xie Jing got ten strokes this time.
Bai Mingyu, unable to get out of bed, yelled, “How dare you hit him! When I’m better, I’ll burn your whole school down!”
“The school’s right next to the Bai family ancestral hall,” the tutor said coldly. “If you’re not afraid, go ahead and burn it.”
The incident blew up. When the master of the house heard, he was furious. He had the literate servant pulled from Bai Mingyu’s side, locked in the woodshed, and ordered he go three days without food.
But Xie Jing only starved half a day before one of Bai Mingyu’s servants sneaked him half a roast chicken.
He’d slept in worse places. The shed was dry and blocked the wind; it wasn’t bad.
After a good meal and a nap, he woke at night, took a piece of wire, and easily picked the lock. He’d spent a few years in an opera troupe before—learned all sorts of little tricks. Opening locks like this was nothing.
He’d been hearing about the “distinguished guest” from the provincial office living in the east courtyard these past few days. Until now, he hadn’t had a chance to confirm it himself. Perhaps that person was connected to Lord Bai Jiu. Tonight, with the house quiet, he decided to take a look.
The mansion had night patrols, but Xie Jing had learned their routes. He avoided them carefully—but he hadn’t expected the east courtyard to be so heavily guarded. The men stationed outside weren’t dressed like house servants. They all wore black leather jackets, burly men who changed shifts every two hours—security was tight.
He waited in the freezing wind for half the night, teeth clenched, but couldn’t find a single gap. As dawn neared, he had no choice but to head to the stables.
The guest’s horses and carriages were kept with the Bai family’s other animals—perhaps he could find identifying marks there.
As he crept closer, he heard rustling—someone rummaging through the hay. Xie Jing accidentally stepped on a twig. Before he could hide, the other person jumped in fright, bumping headfirst into a post.
Xie Jing quickly grabbed and pinned him down. The person gave a muffled cry—then, from afar, someone called out while walking over with a lantern, “Who’s there? Come out!”
The stable was silent except for the snorts of restless horses. One white stallion neighed sharply.
The stable hand looked around, saw nothing unusual, and left.
Only after the footsteps faded did Xie Jing release the man.
The other panted, then turned to him in shock. “Xie Jing?”
Under the faint light, Xie Jing had already recognized him—it was Kou Pei Feng, the boy whose name he’d borrowed. He nodded. “It’s me. Why are you here?”
Kou Pei Feng whispered miserably, “The apprentices bully newcomers. The overseer beats us, makes us do all the heavy work, and they haven’t given me food in days. I was starving, so I came to steal a handful of soybeans…” He sniffed and asked, “What about you? Why’re you here this late?”
“Same reason,” Xie Jing said.
Kou Pei Feng blinked. “You’re in the inner courtyard—don’t they feed you?”
Xie Jing rolled up his sleeve, showing the raw marks from the tutor’s ruler. His skin was pale, making the bruises look even worse. “They feed me,” he said quietly. “But it’s not easy.”
Kou Pei Feng, who had once envied him for being chosen by the young master, felt his bitterness vanish—replaced only by sympathy.
The overseer’s whip wasn’t constant punishment. But a servant under that temperamental young master—now that was daily suffering.
He couldn’t help but pity Xie Jing.
After all, Xie Jing had taken his name. If it were him getting beaten every day and sneaking out to steal soybeans at night, life would be unbearable. Compared to that, stealing beans but avoiding beatings didn’t seem so bad.
Author’s Note:
Bai Mingyu, tearful from his beating: “Why are you so good to me?”
Xie Jing: “Because we’re family—one generation apart.”
Bai Mingyu: “…That’s not just taking advantage of me—you’re taking advantage of Master Bai Jiu too.”
