Hearing the price, even Xie Yushu thought it was steep.
She’d thought the shopkeeper seemed decent—but her opening price was higher than expected.
The shopkeeper, feeling the weight of the young couple’s incredulous stares, grew a little flustered. She knew she was asking for too much, but she had no choice—life in the prefectural capital was expensive, and every coin mattered. She wanted to help her daughter’s family as much as she could, even if it meant swallowing her pride.
Su Chi shook his head at Xie Yushu—he didn’t agree with the price either. He’d naively hoped the shopkeeper would genuinely offer a fair deal.
“Your shop is smaller than others, and it’s not even on the main street—just near it. Naturally, there’ll be fewer customers. Even if it’s well-maintained, that’s no reason to ask for such a high price.” Xie Yushu’s voice was firm.
The shopkeeper was speechless. She knew all that, but…
“Not only that—” Su Chi seized the moment of her hesitation to add to Xie Yushu’s argument.
Both Xie Yushu and the shopkeeper turned to look at him, making him a little self-conscious.
He’d inspected every corner and was mostly satisfied, but a few things didn’t seem right. The more he thought about it, the more certain he became.
“The passage from the kitchen to the front is a bit narrow…” He pointed at the curtain. “I walked through it. It’s just about manageable for one person, but it’s awkward for two to pass—tight and inconvenient.”
He paused, then turned to Xie Yushu. “Even though there’s a curtain, if we have to widen the passage, that’s an extra expense.”
Su Chi looked adorable when he was seriously discussing problems—and he’d spotted this so quickly. Xie Yushu was impressed.
She nodded in agreement with her husband. “That’s a valid point.”
The shopkeeper bowed her head in embarrassment.
She’d known the passage was inconvenient for years but had never wanted to spend the money to widen it.
Xie Yushu could see the shopkeeper wasn’t greedy—she just wanted to earn a little more, likely to help her daughter. Life in the prefectural capital wasn’t cheap.
The shopkeeper finally sighed. “Ah, you’re right. I was out of line. I… ah…”
Su Chi, seeing the older woman—a few years older than his own father—humbling herself for her child’s sake, felt his heart soften. He whispered to Xie Yushu: if she offered a fair price, they could add a few extra qian.
“Whatever you say.”
Her husband had a kind heart.
In the end, they added two qian.
This time, the shopkeeper gave an honest price. They settled at nine guan.
With the extra two qian, it came to nine guan two qian. Su Chi thought it was fair—his budget had been under ten guan.
Since Su Chi held the household funds, this time he paid without hesitation. He gave one guan as a deposit and asked the shopkeeper to prepare the deed and find a witness. They’d return tomorrow to finalize the deal.
He’d learned the process from Xie Yushu over lunch—and he’d remembered it all.
With that pressing matter settled, even the wind on their walk home felt refreshing.
The Xie house was the fifth one down Qingshui Lane, its gate a little larger than the rest, easy to spot. Su Chi had walked the route twice today and had it memorized.
When they reached their gate, they found a young girl peering curiously at their doorway.
Seeing the owners return, she approached them with a bright smile. “Good afternoon, miss and husband.”
Xie Yushu and Su Chi exchanged puzzled glances. Who was this child, and what did she want?
“Whose child are you?” Xie Yushu asked.
The girl replied politely, “I’m from the Fang family at the end of the lane.”
Fang family? They’d only moved in a few days ago and didn’t know any neighbors yet, much less a Fang family.
Su Chi could tell the girl was under ten—precocious and articulate—but he had no idea what she wanted.
Soon, they found out.
The girl held up a jar she’d set on the ground. “Miss, husband—you’ve been out all afternoon, you must be thirsty. My father made these preserved fruits. They’ll refresh your mouth, clear heat, and quench your thirst.”
Inside the jar were preserved fruits—plums, apricots, and prunes—all glistening with syrup, smelling sweet and tangy enough to make one’s mouth water.
Now they understood—this child had come to sell them something, and she’d caught them right at their doorstep.
The girl’s name was Fang Kui. She often walked the streets and alleys selling her father’s preserved fruits. She’d noticed Xie Yushu and Su Chi when they moved in the day before.
She figured that since this house was the most expensive in the lane, the young woman who’d bought it must have money. They’d been out all day, so she thought they’d be thirsty when they returned. She waited for them at their gate, hoping to make a sale.
“Would you like to try some, miss and husband? No charge if you don’t like them.” Fang Kui looked at them expectantly.
The child was generous. Xie Yushu turned to Su Chi, asking if he wanted some. Seeing him nod, she said they’d try them.
The girl smiled, took a pair of long chopsticks and a small bowl from her basket, and picked one apricot, one plum, and one prune, placing them in the bowl and handing it over.
Xie Yushu and Su Chi each took a piece. The sweet and sour flavor burst in their mouths.
Xie Yushu looked at the girl. “Delicious. How much?”
“Fifteen wen a portion.” Seeing the sale was made, the girl beamed.
Su Chi thought it was reasonable and paid. He took out his key, opened the gate, and went to the kitchen to fetch a bowl. The girl took the bowl and picked out the biggest pieces, even adding two extra and pouring some sweet-and-sour syrup over them.
Then she handed it over, picked up her basket and jar, and headed home.
—
The next day, the shopkeeper had the deed ready and had found a witness.
If they’d gone through a property agency, the agent could have served as the witness. Since they hadn’t, the shopkeeper asked a shop owner from the main street—someone who’d been in business for over twenty years—to act as witness.
When Xie Yushu and Su Chi arrived, Xie Yushu carefully reviewed the deed for Su Chi. She nodded to him—it was good. Then she signed Su Chi’s name on the deed and had Su Chi press his thumbprint.
She’d only learned the night before that her husband was a little illiterate.
The night before, before bed, Su Chi had remembered that signing the deed required writing his own name—but he couldn’t write. He’d asked Xie Yushu to write it for him.
That was when she discovered, to her surprise, that her husband couldn’t read or write at all. A true little illiterate.
She sighed, mentally kicking herself—she should have realized. Very few women in the village were literate, let alone men. It was perfectly normal that Su Chi couldn’t read.
Su Chi, seeing her reaction, assumed she was disappointed. He pressed his lips together, starting to feel hurt. But then Xie Yushu nodded and agreed, adding that she’d teach him to read.
“R-Really? You’ll teach me?” He was excited—he’d never thought he’d get the chance to learn.
Xie Yushu pinched his chin. “What kind of wife would I be if my husband couldn’t even write his name?”
“I’ve embarrassed you,” he said, head bowed.
“What nonsense,” she soothed. “I’d be the one embarrassed if I couldn’t teach you properly. You’re not an embarrassment.”
That night, she’d already started making a study plan for him. After they settled the shop, she’d teach him step by step. She had confidence in both of them.
With both parties having signed and pressed their thumbprints, and the witness having reviewed everything, the deed was finalized.
Su Chi handed over the remaining eight guan two qian. The shopkeeper was grateful they’d given her the extra two qian.
Before leaving, the shopkeeper left behind the tables, chairs, and stools. The kitchen still had a clean stove and a few wooden shelves—all useful, all left for them.
The bowls, chopsticks, and other portable items she took with her, thinking she might open another shop in the prefectural capital someday—saving what she could.
With all payments made, the shopkeeper and witness left.
The shop was bought for Su Chi. Xie Yushu handed him the deed. He took it carefully, his eyes shining, hands trembling slightly as he held it.
He clutched the deed and the shop keys in his palm, thinking: from now on, this shop is mine.
They didn’t rush off. The shop was theirs; now came the work of fixing it up. Xie Yushu wanted Su Chi’s input on everything.
They’d need to hire a craftsman to widen the narrow passage Su Chi had pointed out. They’d also need to open up a window at the front and set up a large counter for the steamers. That spot would need one or two stoves for steaming buns.
Su Chi would work in the back kitchen, while the front counter handled sales. The big stove in the back could be used for other dishes—everything would be well-organized.
These past few days, Su Chi had been thinking about adding new flavors to his buns—not just the ones he’d sold at the stall, but other items as well.
He planned to expand gradually, not too fast. He was running the shop alone—if he offered too many things at once, he’d be overwhelmed. Better to keep it manageable.
Once the business was on track and he had a little more cash, he could hire someone to help.
For now, the shop had one big stove, one big pot, two wooden shelves, and four tables—barely anything.
They’d need to buy bowls, plates, chopsticks, spoons, steamers, and other essentials. If they opened up the front wall, they’d need two more stoves and a long counter.
The storefront, though clean, had peeling paint and needed a fresh coat—plus a signboard.
So buying the shop was just the first step. The renovations alone would take time and money.
His thoughts spiraled—from fixing up the shop to buying flour.
When he’d run his stall, his buns had sold out every day—but that was because he’d had to limit the fillings to take care of his father. Now that he had a shop, he’d be making more buns than before, needing more ingredients and flour.
Once the bun shop opened, he’d switch from coarse flour to fine flour for the dough. It would cost more, but he’d save time on sifting, and the texture would be better.
Xie Yushu was taking notes beside him. She’d take care of Su Chi’s needs first—her own business could wait. He Chao was keeping an eye on things for her, so there shouldn’t be any problems.
They discussed everything. Xie Yushu wrote down all the items Su Chi mentioned, planning to find a good craftsman tomorrow. Then they locked up and went home.
At dinner, Su Chi noticed Xie Yushu wasn’t eating as much as usual—she was clearly tired of the same dishes.
They’d been eating leftovers from the feast for two days—too much rich food. But at least they’d finished most of it; tomorrow he’d make something else.
He’d been eyeing the well-dried salted fish in the cupboard—thick, firm, slightly moist, and a warm amber color, glistening with oil. It was clearly top-quality salted fish, perfect for cooking.
He planned to make salted fish rice the next day, with two simple side dishes.
That afternoon, the Zhou carpenter had come to deliver the small table for the main room—so Xie Yushu could write more easily.
She’d also measured the bathhouse for a wooden tub.
Xie Yushu had shown her a sketch for a bedside cabinet—a design Su Chi didn’t recognize, but he trusted her judgment.
The tub and the cabinet came to two guan eight qian—not cheap, since the tub required a lot of wood and the cabinet was a new design.
But the carpenter was honest and skilled, and she didn’t overcharge. Before leaving, Su Chi gave her some fried pancakes and wrapped fried fish as thanks—she didn’t refuse.
Su Chi had twenty-seven guan in hand—the eleven from the household fund plus his own sixteen. After all the shopping and the shop purchase, more than half was gone. When he tallied it up, he nearly blacked out.
The shop cost nine guan two qian, kitchenware eight qian, fabric two guan nine qian, and today’s two guan eight qian—total: fifteen guan seven qian.
The money box was half empty—only eleven guan three qian remained. Su Chi clutched his chest, catching his breath.
While he was counting, Xie Yushu was making copybook pages for him—writing each character by hand, so he could practice following her strokes.
She could see how pained he looked and told him not to worry—she’d earn it back.
She also said he should be a little more generous as her husband—these were necessary household items. He’d see their value soon enough.
He trusted her, of course. But personally handing over all that money still stung.
And then she called him stingy? He shot her a hurt look.
Realizing her slip, Xie Yushu crouched down and coaxed him until he was no longer upset—then swept him into bed.
Tonight, they had time to test the quality of the new bed. She told herself she was being completely impartial.
“C-Candle…” Su Chi, still shy, buried his face in her chest, his voice low.
Xie Yushu obliged, blowing out the candles with one breath. The room went dark, but they could still see each other’s bright eyes.
First came the warmth of her body pressing down, then her lips claiming his—and he was drowning in his wife’s tenderness.
…
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