A place like Jizhou City drew people from all across the land — and with them, all manner of food. Had the realm not fallen into such disorder, Jizhou should have been far more prosperous than it was today.

It was the foremost stronghold of the northern frontier — in both commerce and military affairs, it held an importance that no other city in the entire north could match. Even Youzhou, which ranked on par with it under the Great Chu administrative hierarchy, and Yanzhou further to the east, could not compare to Jizhou.

The proprietor of this little eatery across from the Cloud Study Teahouse was from Yangzhou, in the southeast of Dachu’s thirteen provinces. If you were to walk from Yangzhou to Jizhou, it might take over a year on foot.

So consider the strangeness of it: here in Jizhou on the northern frontier, you could eat the famous rice noodles of Yangzhou in the far south — and the genuine article at that. In such times, that was something genuinely rare and precious.

The proprietor appeared to be around fifty, his hair already salt-and-pepper, but his body unusually robust; his sleeves were rolled high, and when he worked, the muscles of his forearms seemed to flex with a rhythm of their own.

“Young Master Li?!”

The proprietor’s eyes lit up the moment he saw Li Chi. It had been several days without seeing him; he had heard Li Chi would no longer be telling stories at the Cloud Study Teahouse, and had felt some regret. Young Master Li had been a regular here, and was an easy, unassuming sort of person — the kind of young man this proprietor found genuinely admirable.

“Old Liu.”

Li Chi greeted him with a smile, found a table to sit down, and asked Gao Xining: “What would you like?”

Then he quickly turned to Ruoling: “And you?”

Ruoling looked at Gao Xining and said, “Whatever the young mistress has, I’ll have the same. I eat little — a small bowl will be plenty.”

Gao Xining said, “Rice noodles then. I want minced-pork rice noodles — and sesame flatbreads, the meat ones! Two of them!”

Ruoling said, “I’ll have the same.”

Li Chi looked at Old Liu and said: “Three bowls of minced-pork rice noodles then, and six meat flatbreads.”

This was the particular gift of eating far from a dish’s place of origin. When you ate minced-pork rice noodles in Yangzhou, the proper restaurant would never serve you Yongzhou’s sesame flatbreads alongside them; and in a Yongzhou flatbread shop, you would never find Yangzhou rice noodles. But in Jizhou, you could have both — and they complemented each other perfectly. The only thing that rivaled this combination was that in Jizhou’s flatbread shops, you could also get minced-pork rice noodles.

Everything that travels far from its origin learns, in another place, to bend and flex.

Old Liu brought out the rice noodles, gave each of them an extra small helping, gave each person an extra flatbread, and added a plate of cold dishes.

“This is…”

Li Chi immediately stood up. “Thank you, Old Liu.”

Old Liu smiled and said: “Don’t thank me. Young Master Li has often given me his patronage. And I’m right across from the Cloud Study Teahouse — I’ve had the pleasure of hearing so many of your fine stories for nothing. I should be thanking you. Besides… I may be leaving Jizhou tomorrow. Going home to Yangzhou. Think of this as a small farewell gift.”

Li Chi was surprised. He asked: “With things as they are out there, the roads in chaos — why leave now?”

Old Liu was still smiling, but more than half of the smile was bittersweet.

He lowered his voice and said to Li Chi: “Nearly all the grain shops in the city have run out of what I need. I can’t make rice noodles anymore. Word is it’s by order of Prince Yu’s residence — all grain shops have been forbidden from selling large quantities to shops like mine. Ordinary people can only buy grain a few jin at a time. I think this means there’s going to be a great battle for Jizhou. When I think of it — I’ve been away from Yangzhou thirty years. If a man is going to die in the end, better to die at home.”

He glanced at the bowls on the table and said: “I have no great talents. All I can do is cook. So the only farewell gift I can give Young Master Li is these few bowls of rice noodles and flatbreads. When you’re done eating, please don’t try to pay — otherwise we’ll be pushing the bill back and forth between us, which isn’t worth the trouble.”

Li Chi cupped his fists: “Then I gratefully accept, Old Liu.”

Old Liu nodded with a smile. He looked across at the Cloud Study Teahouse and said: “Madam Sun came to eat here yesterday. She mentioned you wouldn’t be going back there anymore — she looked quite lost, poor thing. A little girl came along who can tell stories and sing — but it hasn’t seemed to cheer Madam Sun up any.”

Li Chi smiled somewhat guiltily, not knowing how to explain himself. He could hardly tell Old Liu: *the reason I stopped telling stories is because I’m going to fight — the kind of fighting you’re afraid of. Big fighting. Group fighting.*

“How will you travel?”

Li Chi asked.

Old Liu said: “There’s a donkey at home and a wooden cart. Nothing much to take along in the way of furniture. I’ll let the shop go. Travel light — though who knows whether I’ll make it home alive.”

Li Chi fell silent again. Old Liu’s worry was not without reason. In this crumbling realm of Dachu, disorder was everywhere; those in the big cities had at least some protection, but those in smaller towns felt no security at all. A year’s walk back to Yangzhou — nine times out of ten, he wouldn’t survive the journey.

“Old Liu, don’t be in a hurry to leave.”

Li Chi looked at Old Liu and said: “Wait two or three years. In two or three years, Jizhou won’t be this chaotic anymore. No need to worry about running into rebel armies or bandits outside the city gates. Trust me.”

Old Liu blinked: “What I’m afraid of is Jizhou not holding… Will it really be as you say, Young Master? Two or three years from now, will things really have settled down in Jizhou?”

“They will.”

Li Chi lowered his voice and said: “Don’t forget — telling stories isn’t my real gift. Reading fortunes and faces is. Whether you want to go back to Yangzhou or whether you don’t — wait two or three more years. Starting now, go buy a little grain every day. Don’t buy from the same shop twice in a row; rotate through the grain shops in the city. There are dozens of them — go through the whole circuit and then start again. They won’t remember your face. Build up a small store bit by bit; don’t waste any of it, be frugal. Get through the next year or two, and the good days are coming.”

Old Liu nodded earnestly. His admiration for Young Master Li was genuine.

After Old Liu withdrew, Gao Xining lowered her voice and asked Li Chi: “Do you truly believe that two or three years from now Jizhou will improve?”

Li Chi nodded. “Truly. If Prince Yu rises in arms, two or three years from now — if he can’t push south — he will at minimum have Jizhou consolidated. Within his territory, rebel armies won’t be a problem. And if he falls, two or three years from now someone will certainly rise to take his place, and that person will settle the whole of Jizhou.”

Gao Xining murmured in acknowledgment. She was thinking: if Prince Yu fell, how many people in this city would see their dreams shatter, how many would be pulled down with him — even her grandfather had no choice but to profess loyalty toward Prince Yu’s residence. It was all beyond their control.

“We’ll never get to eat rice noodles like this again.”

Ruoling found it truly a pity. She hesitated for quite a while, but ultimately overcame her own restraint — she had said her appetite was small, and girls eating in front of others rarely admitted to eating much.

Yet the thought that she would never taste this again made Ruoling sad. She looked at Old Liu and said: “Old Liu, three more bowls, please.”

At the Cloud Study Teahouse, Madam Sun stepped down from a carriage carrying her child in her arms. Not noticing Li Chi across the way, she went inside. She glanced at the small girl standing by the window and smiled: “Xiruo, how long have you been standing there? Have you had breakfast yet?”

The small girl immediately said: “Proprietress, I haven’t eaten yet — I was trying to decide what to have.”

Madam Sun said: “The rice noodles at Old Liu’s across the street are delicious. You haven’t tried them yet, have you? Go have a taste — my treat.”

The small girl addressed as Xiruo immediately asked: “I just saw a young gentleman I’ve never seen before go in there. Old Liu seemed to know him very well — looked very warm when they were talking. Who was that?”

Madam Sun startled, immediately looking across: “Could it be the child’s father? The child’s father is back?!”

Xiruo’s expression underwent a dramatic change. In that single instant, her mind had already spun out an elaborate story involving multiple twists and turns of fate and questions of moral principle. She had of course met Proprietor Sun — yet now Madam Sun was asking whether it was “the child’s father,” and Xiruo’s first thought was: *is it the biological father?* Her second thought was: *poor Proprietor Sun.* Her third thought was: *Madam Sun must truly love that man.* Her fourth thought was: *that man is an absolute scoundrel!*

Because he had just gone into the place across the street with that thief-wife — what else could he be but a scoundrel?!

Madam Sun was too pitiful. Proprietor Sun was too pitiful. The child was beyond pitiful.

Madam Sun, in her eagerness, hadn’t thought to explain anything. She picked up her child and ran from the Cloud Study Teahouse straight toward the little eatery opposite, running rather urgently. Seeing this, Xiruo’s conviction only deepened. She felt that despicable man was utterly monstrous.

Then Proprietor Sun came out from the cart carrying things for the child, heading into the teahouse with both arms full, and noticed Madam Sun running across the way. He called after her: “Slow down, slow down — be careful not to fall.”

Xiruo watched Proprietor Sun showing such tender care for his wife, while his wife was apparently doing this to him — the anger inside her rose unbidden.

Proprietor Sun came inside, saw Xiruo, and smiled. “Good morning, Miss Xiruo.”

Xiruo said: “Good morning, Proprietor. The Proprietress has gone across the street.”

Proprietor Sun said: “I saw. Running like that — she’s already a mother and still so scatterbrained.”

Xiruo held herself back, held herself back — and could not hold herself back. She looked at Proprietor Sun and said: “The Proprietress said the child’s father is eating across the way, so she…. Please try not to be too upset. I’ll go over with you.”

“Ah?”

Proprietor Sun thought for a moment and asked: “The child’s father is right here — oh! *That* child’s father! I’ll go too. Last time he ran off before we’d said more than a few words, and I’ve been a little put out ever since. That man — says he’ll leave and leaves, no thought for the child’s mother, no thought for me, no thought for the child herself, apparently.”

He too immediately ran across toward the little eatery, just as urgently as Madam Sun had.

Xiruo stood where she was, truly unable to comprehend what manner of complex and seamlessly blended sentiment this was — like Yangzhou rice noodles that ought to have stayed in Yangzhou paired with Yongzhou’s sesame flatbreads, together filling Jizhou with an irresistible fragrance.

“They’re…. so at peace with all of it?”

She stood there watching, wanting to go over, yet feeling she might not be able to withstand the scene.

Then she saw Madam Sun across the way waving at her and calling out: “Come over, come over! Let me introduce you — this is the child’s father!”

Xiruo set her teeth. *Fine. If I’m going, I’m going.*

She hobbled across.

Li Chi gave a cold smile. *Did you ever buy that bruise ointment?*

Gao Xining had already jumped up and was heading toward her; the sight of that small girl’s walk made her want to go help her back.

—