Xie Yushu wanted to slip away, but the next moment her arm was seized firmly—the grip was strong and heavy, and for a moment she couldn’t break free.
“Miss, please don’t leave. Let me finish.”
Xie Qi’s voice carried a note of sorrow. Seeing this, Xie Yushu’s heart stirred slightly, and she found herself at a loss.
“I…” Xie Qi opened her mouth but stopped. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
A sharp pain shot through her arm as the grip tightened. Xie Yushu winced slightly and said coolly, “Let go first.”
“Right, right—I’m sorry. I was too impatient. I apologize.” Snapped back to her senses, Xie Qi released her and stepped back awkwardly, a hint of embarrassment and guilt on her face.
She took a deep breath, as if sorting through her tangled thoughts, then cautiously asked, “May I invite you to a meal? As an apology for my rudeness just now. Would you honor me?”
Xie Yushu was about to refuse—the words were on the tip of her tongue—when she caught a glimpse of the pleading in the woman’s eyes. Something inside her wavered for a moment.
Forget it. She’d go.
If this woman really was from the Xie family, this was the perfect chance to find out about her original mother’s family—and save herself from being hounded later. It was bound to happen sooner or later; better to get it over with.
Seeing she hadn’t refused, relief flickered in Xie Qi’s eyes. She led Xie Yushu to her usual restaurant.
Once seated, Xie Qi ordered a few of the restaurant’s signature dishes with practiced ease, her tone warm as if speaking to her own junior: “The food here is quite good—I come often. I believe you’ll like it too.”
Then, without any preamble, she cut straight to the point: “Is your mother’s name Xie Lan?”
Xie Yushu had just raised her teacup for a sip. At those words, her throat tightened, and she choked, coughing heavily.
This woman really did know her original mother’s name. So she really was from the Xie family.
Seeing her distress, Xie Qi patted her back gently, pulled out a handkerchief her son had sewn for her, and dabbed at the corner of Xie Yushu’s mouth with a soft tone: “Did Auntie startle you?”
Xie Yushu tilted her head slightly, pushing the handkerchief back, and pulled out one of her own from her sleeve—one Su Chi had stitched in his spare time.
Sewing wasn’t Su Chi’s strong suit. This handkerchief had taken him several days of effort to finish. The stitches weren’t perfect, and the pattern was a little crude, but Xie Yushu loved it. She always kept it tucked carefully in her robe, using it only when absolutely necessary.
And this woman claimed to be her aunt—likely her original mother’s younger sister. She was so direct, clearly armed with proof that Xie Yushu was a Xie family member. At this point, denying it would be useless—she simply wouldn’t believe it. Better to admit it openly and save them both the runaround.
Xie Yushu wiped the moisture from her lips, carefully folded the handkerchief, and tucked it back into her robe. Then she asked, “How did you recognize me?”
“You look so much like your mother—my eldest sister,” Xie Qi said, her gaze soft, as if seeing her elder sister through Xie Yushu’s face. “If she had a daughter, she’d be about your age.”
Xie Yushu raised her teacup again and took another sip, her eyes darting guiltily.
Big mistake. Her entire appearance had already given her away. She wished she’d known sooner—she wouldn’t have bothered pretending.
She stole a glance at this aunt from the Xie family. The woman had an open, honest look in her eyes, with a hint of cautious affection. She seemed far more agreeable than that aunt from the Zhai family—not like a bad person at all.
“Yes. My mother is Xie Lan,” Xie Yushu set down her cup and decided to come clean. “But she never told me we had any other relatives.”
Hearing this, the hope in Xie Qi’s heart deflated.
Her eldest sister hadn’t told her daughter about the Xie family. Did she really want nothing to do with them? Then why had she still given her daughter a name following the family’s generational pattern? Xie Qi couldn’t understand.
When the food arrived, Xie Qi didn’t press her niece about the Xie family—she just urged her to eat well.
When she’d had enough, Xie Yushu set down her chopsticks: “I’m done. If you have something to say, go ahead.”
Xie Qi sighed and slowly began to tell the story of the Xie family.
The Xie family was a prominent household in Jiangzhou Prefecture, having made their fortune in porcelain in the early years. They were well-off. The head of the Xie household had only one fulang, who bore her three children. The eldest daughter, Xie Lan, was a role model to her two younger sisters from childhood.
Xie Lan had been steady and self-possessed from a young age, and an excellent student. The family had hoped she would pursue official rank and bring honor to the household. But then disaster struck—the family business suffered a setback. Xie Lan gave up her studies and, together with her mother, took on the burden of rebuilding the family.
But later, her mother tried to force her to marry a man she didn’t love. Xie Lan refused. After a bitter quarrel, she left home defiantly—and never returned.
Xie Qi finished the story of the Xie family and Xie Lan in just a few sentences.
Xie Yushu listened as if hearing a wealthy family’s melodrama—thoroughly entertained, even refilling her tea.
So her original mother had been the heir to a prominent family. What a pity for the original—she should have been a young lady from a wealthy merchant household, yet she’d spent all those years suffering under the Zhai family, never knowing any luxury.
Then she thought again—her original mother’s temperament had been so fierce that she’d left home over a marriage dispute, abandoned this gilded cage, and struck out on her own. She’d lived a simple, poor life with her father. What was she thinking?
Seeing Xie Yushu lost in thought, Xie Qi pressed on: “Yushu, you should call me Auntie.”
Now that their connection was out in the open, since this child was her eldest sister’s blood, she was a Xie family member. She would have to return home and be recognized by the ancestors.
The two elders at home would be overjoyed.
This aunt seemed to have a genuinely good temperament—well-spoken and courteous, clearly raised in a cultured family, worlds apart from that aunt on the Zhai side. Most of Xie Yushu’s wariness toward relatives melted away.
“Auntie,” Xie Yushu addressed her politely.
Xie Qi’s eyes grew even more affectionate as she looked at her, responding warmly: “Yes!”
She waved over the waiter and ordered another dish that had just been emptied: “Your mother loved this roasted lamb. And look—you love it too.”
“Mm, it’s quite good,” Xie Yushu agreed.
When the dish arrived, Xie Qi served her a portion, beaming: “Your grandmother and grandfather will be overjoyed to know you exist. And those unruly younger cousins of yours—they’ll adore you too.”
Xie Qi asked her age, and Xie Yushu told her honestly.
Xie Qi nodded. That made her niece the eldest of the younger generation in the Xie family.
Xie Yushu felt a little uneasy: “There are already plenty of children in the Xie family—I’m not needed.”
Xie Qi said gently, “But your mother is special, and so are you.”
She brought up something else, pride evident in her voice: “I saw you upstairs, putting those old has-beens in their place. It was so satisfying. Clearly, your mother raised you well—she’s done an excellent job.”
She was the second daughter of the Xie family, now in charge of operations alongside her mother.
Tang’an County was prosperous, and the Xie family ran a large porcelain branch shop there—the most profitable of all their locations. She came to audit the accounts regularly, both this time and last.
As a Xie family member, she was known and respected by all the county’s merchants, Tang Zhiyi included. Knowing she’d be in town for a few days, Tang Zhiyi had invited her to the Merchant Alliance meeting. That was how she’d heard Xie Yushu’s speech from the stairway between the third and second floors—and recognized her.
Then she changed the subject, pausing for a long moment before finally asking: “Where is your mother now? Would she… be willing to come home? Mother and Father still think of her. Your third aunt and I miss her too.”
Seeing her aunt searching for the original Xie Lan, Xie Yushu—a fraud at heart—felt an unexpected tightness in her chest. She steeled herself and decided to tell her the truth, her voice low: “Mother passed away with my father when I was ten.”
A sharp clatter rang out as the teacup slipped from Xie Qi’s hand, shattering on the floor. She shot to her feet, disbelief written all over her face, her lips trembling: “You’re saying… you’re saying your mother is gone?”
The devastating news made Xie Qi’s hands shake, her breath suddenly rapid, black spots swimming before her eyes—she could barely stand.
“Auntie, please calm down.” Xie Yushu quickly took her hand and guided her back into her chair. “Stay calm. Mother passed years ago. You… please take care of yourself.”
Xie Qi could no longer hear the rest of Xie Yushu’s words. All that remained was the ringing in her ears, everything muffled and distant—as if someone were speaking underwater.
Seeing this, Xie Yushu said no more. She helped her up and escorted her back.
Her aunt had mentioned a porcelain shop earlier, and Xie Yushu happened to know where the largest one in the county was. She walked Xie Qi all the way to its entrance.
When they arrived, several shop assistants rushed out to greet them. One seemed to be Auntie’s personal attendant. Xie Yushu handed her over and left.
After walking a good distance, her own thoughts were in turmoil.
If the Xie family wanted to claim her—would she accept, or not?
·
Distracted, Xie Yushu wandered aimlessly through the streets. When she finally came to her senses, she realized she’d never walked this road before. She stopped, turned around, and started heading back.
As she passed by an alley, she heard a commotion—several people surrounding one person, arguing loudly. She was already frazzled and didn’t want any trouble, but the crowd was blocking her way. She had no choice but to squeeze through.
She passed by the entrance of a small, narrow pancake shop. Outside hung an old banner bearing a faded character for “roast”—barely legible, but still recognizable as a shop selling baked goods.
As she brushed past the arguing crowd, Xie Yushu saw that the person surrounded in the middle was a fulang around thirty. His apron was dusted with flour, and he looked thin and frail, being jostled by several people—quite pitiful.
Those pushing him were also fulang, but they had their wives standing behind them, giving them confidence.
One of the younger fulang, hands on his hips, shrilled: “Your baked pancakes have thick crust and barely any filling, yet you charge us this much—do you take us for fools?”
Another quickly chimed in: “Exactly. Other shops sell a pancake for two or three copper coins—you want five. Is it studded with gold or inlaid with silver?”
The fulang was jostled and swayed but patiently explained: “Other shops sell unfilled or vegetarian pancakes. Mine are meat-filled, so they cost a bit more.”
“Besides, this has always been our price. Why is it suddenly too expensive today?” He broke a pancake in half to reveal the generous filling. “Look—thin crust, thick filling. Anyone with eyes can see.”
The other refused to look at the pancake, only accusing him: “Are you saying we’re blind?”
“You say it’s meat—who knows what kind of unclean scraps you’ve stuffed in there?”
They rattled on, spewing nonsense.
They acted like thugs, deaf to reason, refusing to listen to his explanations—insisting it was his fault for charging too much.
“How about this—sell them to us for three wen each, and we’ll call it even.”
“Absolutely not! This is a small business—we barely make a profit.” The fulang turned pale with anger, daring to accuse them: “I think you’re just trying to get free food.”
The younger fulang who’d spoken first, hit a nerve, flew into a rage: “How dare you say that!”
He raised his right hand, emboldened by his wife backing him up, chin lifted high—ready to teach this man a lesson.
Xie Yushu stood outside the crowd, frowning in disgust.
Pathetic—a bunch of people openly bullying one fulang?
She stepped forward immediately, grabbed the man’s wrist, and yanked it down hard: “If you have something to say, say it. What’s with the violence?”
The group froze. This alley didn’t see much foot traffic—most people came for the pancake shop. And it was just past mealtime, so no one was around. That’s why they’d dared to act so bold. They hadn’t expected anyone to meddle.
They sized up Xie Yushu. Her clothes were of good quality, and she carried herself with an air of distinction—clearly not an ordinary person. Their arrogance deflated. Exchanging glances, afraid of stirring up trouble, they slunk off, pulling each other away.
The fulang let out a long sigh of relief and thanked Xie Yushu profusely.
She waved him off, saying there was no need for such gratitude. With the crowd gone, she could now see the full shop.
Inside were two cylindrical, open-topped clay ovens, steam still curling from their mouths. On the counter, freshly baked pancakes were neatly arranged—golden and glossy, with a rich meaty aroma.
The fulang quickly wrapped up a few of the largest, meatiest ones for Xie Yushu. She tried to pay, but he refused—saying they were a thank-you gift.
She didn’t insist and accepted them, taking a bite on the spot.
Crispy and flaky—the meat filling burst with juice, and the crust was perfectly baked. That kind of heat control wasn’t something you could master in just a few years.
She was impressed by his baking skill.
She asked him how he’d gotten into trouble with them.
The fulang sighed and explained: “My wife and I run this shop together. But she’s not here right now, so I’m managing alone. Those people saw it was just me and got ideas. When my wife’s around, they’d never dare.”
“Where is your wife now?”
His expression dimmed: “She fell ill a while back. I’m running the shop by myself now.”
Xie Yushu felt a stir of interest and asked, “How long have you and your wife been doing this?”
“We’ve been running this shop for over ten years. The flavor’s decent enough, so we manage to get by.”
Xie Yushu pressed further: “Where did you learn the craft?”
“My wife’s skill is family tradition. As for me—” the fulang smiled a little bashfully at the thought of his wife, “—if you don’t mind me saying, my wife dotes on me. Ever since we married, she’s taught me all the family techniques. It’s been over ten years now.”
Xie Yushu nodded, more and more satisfied. She asked, “Besides pancakes, what else can you bake?”
The fulang paused, then answered with confidence: “I can bake just about anything. Back when money was tight, my wife and I baked all sorts—anything that could be roasted, we’ve tried. Everyone who tasted our goods said they were excellent.”
Excellent. This was exactly the kind of skilled labor she was looking for.
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