Time flowed like water, and in the blink of an eye, it was March, with the weather becoming increasingly warm.

The willows were green and the catkins drifted everywhere. At Luo Yueqiao Bridge, beauties and scholars continuously came to play, admiring famous flowers and gathering with good friends. The streets were filled with fragrant carriages and horses, golden saddles competing for passage, decorating the capital with intermingled red and green, brilliant spring scenery.

With many people traveling, Spring Water Rising sold well. Lu Tong stacked the medicinal tea jars into a small tower, placed them on the yellow wooden table at the very front of Renxin Medical Hall, and had Yin Zheng write a piece of calligraphy to hang on the wall behind the table.

Often, scholars who came to buy medicinal tea arrived at the medical hall and were first attracted by the calligraphy behind rather than noticing the medicinal tea first.

“Sitting quietly with no worries, a solitary guest arrives, brewing tea myself with a bottle of spring water. A few plum trees welcome spring early, watching falling flowers in gentle rain and soft breeze.” Someone stood at the medical hall entrance, murmuring the poem on the wall, then quietly praised: “Good calligraphy!”

Lu Tong looked up to see a middle-aged man dressed as a scholar, wearing a square cap and a blue robe washed to white, with patches hidden at the elbows. This man seemed somewhat embarrassed, asking Lu Tong at the medicine cabinet with a red face: “Excuse me, miss, do you sell nasal congestion medicinal tea here?”

Lu Tong said little, only gesturing to the pile of jar-like containers: “Four taels of silver per jar.”

This person’s clothing was poor, his complexion pale from hunger. A jar of medicinal tea costing four taels of silver should not be cheap for him, but upon hearing this, he only took a deep breath, pulled out an old pouch of indiscernible shape from his bosom, and shook out a pile of scattered silver fragments.

A’Cheng weighed them—exactly four taels of silver, not a penny more or less. Lu Tong then took a jar of medicinal tea for him, instructing: “Two to three times daily, brew and take it. One jar of medicinal tea can be divided for brewing over five or six days.”

The scholar nodded in agreement, tucking the medicine jar into his bosom like a treasure, then slowly walked away.

After he left, Yin Zheng watched his departing figure with some puzzlement: “This person looks financially strapped. Why would he come to buy such expensive medicinal tea? Isn’t he just adding to his own burden?”

Lu Tong glanced in the direction of her gaze, lowered her head to rearrange the jars, and said softly: “Perhaps for someone he cares about in his heart.”

…

The scholar left West Street, went around the temple entrance, and entered a fish market.

The fish market had dozens of fish stalls on one side, pervaded with fishy blood odors. It had already closed for the day. He carefully avoided the dirty blood and fish scales on the ground and turned into a thatched cottage.

This dwelling was already quite dilapidated, but it had been kept very clean. Hearing movement, a hoarse voice of an elderly woman came from inside: “My son?”

The scholar responded “Yes” and set down the tea jar, hurriedly going inside to help the person up.

This scholar was called Wu Youcai. He was a scholar with some talent, but for unknown reasons, he always lacked some luck when it came to examinations. Having failed repeatedly, he had reached middle age but still accomplished nothing.

Wu Youcai lost his father early. His birth mother raised him single-handedly by killing and selling fish. Perhaps from accumulated fatigue and illness, a few years ago, Old Lady Wu fell seriously ill and had been bedridden ever since. After this year’s Spring Festival, her condition worsened. Wu Youcai sought out good physicians everywhere, but all said her oil was exhausted and lamp burnt out—she was just counting her remaining days.

Wu Youcai was a filial son. After his heartache and sorrow, he found ways to fulfill his mother’s lifelong wishes. Today he’d buy his mother a bowl of flower soup, tomorrow he’d have new clothes made for her. When not studying, he also killed fish to earn some silver. He had some savings, and these days, he spent his savings freely, all just to see his old mother smile.

Old Lady Wu was gravely ill, often confused and muddled. Sometimes she was lucid, sometimes confused. Now she was lucid less and less often, unable to recognize her own son for long periods. A few days ago, she told Wu Youcai she wanted to go to the river embankment to see the catkins.

Seeing catkins wasn’t difficult, but Old Lady Wu had always suffered from nasal congestion. Every spring in past years, she never left home without a handkerchief. Just then, Wu Youcai heard from scholar friends who had returned from the Peach Blossom Festival that there was a medical hall on West Street selling a kind of medicinal tea quite effective for nasal congestion and sinus problems. Wu Youcai was very moved by this news. Although a jar of medicinal tea costing four taels of silver was truly expensive for him, as long as it could fulfill his mother’s wish, it would be worthwhile.

He carefully divided the medicinal tea, then used the porcelain jar at home to slowly brew it for half a day. He put it in a bowl, and when it cooled to warm, fed it to his mother spoonful by spoonful. After his mother finished drinking, she became drowsy again and fell asleep in a daze. Wu Youcai then went outside to continue processing the fish he hadn’t dealt with during the day.

They continued this for three days. On the morning of the third day, Old Lady Wu became lucid again, clamoring to go to the river embankment to see the catkins. Wu Youcai carried his mother on his back, took a handkerchief to cover her mouth and nose, and brought his mother to the river embankment at Luo Yueqiao Bridge.

There were pavilions along both banks of the river embankment for visitors to rest. Wu Youcai entered one with his mother to sit down, let his mother lean against him, while tentatively and gradually moving away the handkerchief from his mother’s face.

Old Lady Wu showed no signs of discomfort.

Wu Youcai’s eyes gradually brightened.

This Spring Water Rising actually worked!

Endless visitors passed over Luo Yueqiao Bridge. Ten thousand strips of new green swayed in the wind, fluttering without fixed direction. Wu Youcai became momentarily dazed watching. Since his mother fell ill, he spent his days busy selling fish and caring for his mother, and his nights studying by lamplight. He hadn’t had leisure time to look at scenery for a long time. Only now did he realize that unknowingly, it was spring again.

“These are catkins—” someone beside him spoke. He turned and saw his mother gazing at the misty willows along both banks of the river embankment, her gaze showing rare clarity.

Wu Youcai’s heart ached, and he nearly shed tears, saying gently: “Mother, these are catkins.”

Old Lady Wu slowly turned her head, staring at him intently for a while, as if just remembering who the person before her was: “You’re Youcai.”

She could actually recognize him! Wu Youcai grasped his mother’s hand, feeling that hand was nothing but skin and bones, and said chokingly: “It’s me, Mother.”

The new willows on both banks were verdantly green, making the woman’s temples appear silver. Old Lady Wu smiled and patted his hand, comforting him gently as she used to when he was scolded by his teacher as a child: “Thank you, my son, for bringing Mother out to see the catkins.”

Wu Youcai was heartbroken.

His mother didn’t notice his expression and smiled as she looked toward the distant misty willows: “Speaking of which, when you were small, you loved coming to the river embankment to fly kites most. Every time we crossed Luo Yueqiao Bridge, you always pestered your father to buy you flower-shaped treats.”

Wu Youcai choked as he agreed.

At that time, he was still at a carefree age, his father was still alive, and his mother would endure the suffering of nasal congestion, covering herself with a handkerchief to accompany father and son to the river embankment, complaining while holding his kite and following behind.

Later, his father died, his mother went to work at the fish market, having to deal with fish scales and fishy odors daily. He resolved to study and get ahead, studying diligently day and night, no longer having time for leisure activities nearby. Today, hearing his mother’s words, he realized that coming to the river embankment with his mother to enjoy the spring breeze and chase the green scenery had been over twenty years ago.

Wu Youcai finally couldn’t hold back his tears.

He looked at his mother’s hunched and withered body, crying: “It’s all because your son is unfilial. All these years, I haven’t achieved any official position to let Mother enjoy good fortune. Mother has suffered for me for years, but as a son, I have no way to repay you. I only know how to read some dead books, and still haven’t passed the examinations…”

A hand touched his head.

The woman’s smile was gentle, hiding her heartache, only looking at Wu Youcai and saying softly: “My son shouldn’t say such things. When it comes down to it, it’s your father and I who were useless, having nothing to leave you. Reading is your aspiration, but official position is ultimately something external. As a mother, I only hope for my son’s peace and health—that’s good fortune.”

“Mother hasn’t studied, but I also understand the principle that good things come to those who persevere. Since my son has talent, sooner or later you’ll earn a career. Why must you worry about it now?”

Wu Youcai sobbed uncontrollably.

The woman smiled again: “Besides, what do you mean ‘no way to repay’? Haven’t you given me quite a wonderful gift?”

Wu Youcai was stunned.

Old Lady Wu pointed to her nose, smiling and sighing: “That medicinal tea you bought works wonderfully. After all these years, this is the first time your mother has come to the river embankment to see flowers so comfortably. Don’t be sad either. Look at the scenery properly. Tomorrow, accompany Mother to see it again, and we’ll buy a bowl of hot pig’s trotters to eat!”

Wu Youcai wiped away his tears and smiled: “Yes.”