Chapter 52: Chapter 52

The figure wore close-cut black combat garb that traced out a tall, slender frame. Her dark hair was drawn up high, held in place by only a plain silver hairpin — there was about her a heroic, gallant air that gave nothing up to any man.

Shen Xiuhan caught on at once:

“Master. Eldest Senior Sister.”

“Junior Brother Shen — it’s been a while. Truly, one sees you with fresh eyes.”

Jiang Qinghong looked him up and down with a note of wonder.

She had been in seclusion less than a month, and only on emerging today had she learned how much had changed at the hall.

That day, the boy who had come carrying a battered fish basket on his back — in a mere sixteen days, he had broken through Blood Tempering, stepped into the inner court, and become her junior brother.

Truly… fast work for a man!

Shen Xiuhan cupped his fists in a courteous salute:

“Senior Sister is too generous in her praise. My apologies — I haven’t yet congratulated you on your great advance in the martial way, and your smooth emergence from seclusion.”

“Junior Brother is too polite…”

A smile held at the corner of Jiang Qinghong’s mouth; she looked to be in excellent spirits.

This round of seclusion, her gains had been plentiful indeed.

That 『Silver-backed fish』 truly lived up to its name as a second-tier treasure fish — its qi-blood had been mellow and deep, and the 『Silver Sprout Pill』 refined from it had been exceedingly potent!

It had let her successfully break through to peak Sinew Tempering; Hidden Strength lay now but a single kick away.

On coming out of seclusion, Jiang Qinghong had meant to go straight to Tongbei Martial Hall and settle the score from last time.

But after her mother had told her of that side’s recent entanglements with the Bai family, she had found herself in no hurry at all.

She still had several 『Silver Sprout Pills』 left. While Zhao Honggang’s hair was on fire, why not press on another step — and put the distance between them firmly out of reach!

‘Just wait until next time… Zhao Honggang, Tongbei Martial Hall — hehe…’

As Jiang Qinghong was turning all this over in her mind, a rich, heady scent of fish suddenly swept in on the air, making her nostrils twitch twice beyond her control.

During seclusion, Jiang Qinghong had devoted herself wholly to the martial way, and instructed the cookhouse to make only dry flatcakes washed down with water to line her stomach — her mouth had gone bland as ditchwater.

Catching this domineering fragrance now, Jiang Qinghong’s teeth and cheeks watered; she couldn’t help looking twice at the tray and said:

“Junior Brother Shen, what are you carrying?”

Shen Xiuhan took a few steps forward and set the tray on the desk, explaining to both women:

“I only just arrived at the hall today, and happened to see the cookhouse preparing fish. This disciple has a fondness for fish dishes. However, last time I tasted the fish Cook Shi made… the flavor really didn’t sit well with the palate, so I borrowed the stove to make this red-braised fish — a little something for Master and Senior Sister to try.”

“…”

The words dropped.

Jiang Qinghong’s gaze stilled; she turned her head instinctively toward Mei Shuangfeng.

And indeed.

Mei Shuangfeng’s ancient-well-still expression, on hearing those words, clearly turned complicated and distant.

Inwardly Jiang Qinghong sighed:

‘High martial talent, a fondness for sweets, skilled at fish dishes on top of it — and filial enough to cook with his own hands for his mother to try… point by point, how is it that he’s so like Luoyun… I can only imagine this one plate of fish has stirred up Mother’s old feelings again.’

The hall fell briefly silent.

Mei Shuangfeng lowered her eyelids, covering the flash of emotion in that instant, and stiffly turned the subject elsewhere:

“Thoughtful of you… Did you go to the Ji family today?”

“I did.”

Mei Shuangfeng did not press further on which method he had chosen, only saying:

“Then drill your stance work diligently. When your qi-blood reaches Full Mastery, come find me.”

Shen Xiuhan’s heart gave a small jump at her words.

The meaning behind Master’s words…

Wasn’t she saying that, come the time he was ready to break through to Bone Tempering, she would bestow a treasure to ensure his success?

“This disciple understands!”

Shen Xiuhan’s expression grew solemn, and he cupped his fists in a weighty bow.

“Mm. The sugar cubes have dried through. Everything in the cloth sack on the table — take it all with you.”

Mei Shuangfeng nodded slightly, lifting a long, slender finger to point toward the side table.

Shen Xiuhan picked up the cloth sack; inside, packed in tight, were several dozen gleaming crystalline sugar cubes.

“Many thanks, Master!”

“Mm. Go on.”

Once Shen Xiuhan had withdrawn from the room, the hall lapsed at once into quiet.

Mei Shuangfeng gazed at the red-braised fish on the table, and after a silent moment, picked up her chopsticks.

Jiang Qinghong sat down too, her eyes settling on that plate of red-braised fish.

The flesh white and tender, the color of the sauce glossy and rich, the liquor thick, the fragrance driving straight into the nose.

“Grr, grr, grr…”

Jiang Qinghong’s stomach growled unashamedly; she couldn’t help saying, “Mother, I haven’t had my midday meal either.”

Mei Shuangfeng paid her no mind. She picked up a piece of fish and placed it into her mouth.

The flesh was fresh and tender, melting the moment it touched her tongue.

The salty fragrance of the soy, the deep richness of the yellow wine, the bite and perfume of scallion and ginger — all of it had folded into the fish in just the right measure: not salty, not bland, not fishy, not greasy.

Mei Shuangfeng’s movement paused for a beat, and then her chopsticks went back for another piece.

Jiang Qinghong couldn’t hold back any longer: “Mother, is it good?”

Mei Shuangfeng did not answer; she only kept reaching with her chopsticks.

In a matter of moments, nearly half of one fish was gone.

Well then!

Jiang Qinghong understood at once. Quickly she lifted her rice bowl, scooped up a piece of fish and put it into her mouth.

In that instant, Jiang Qinghong went still.

This fish… wasn’t this simply too good?!

Instinctively she looked up at Mei Shuangfeng, and Mei Shuangfeng was also looking at her.

The two exchanged one glance — then, without a word, extended their chopsticks toward the tray at the very same moment.

…

“Sweet!”

Shen Xiuhan walked out of Mei Hall, tucked a sugar cube into his mouth, stowed the cloth sack inside his robe — the rest he would save for Momo to eat.

Straight after, he cut south across Apricot Blossom Street and came to Yeci Ward.

This was the most lawless corner of the outer city, where most of the residents were of the slave registry and beggars.

The street was everywhere mud and refuse, a good deal filthier than even Xiaojing Bay.

Along both sides of the cramped alleys crouched any number of ragged, wandering refugees and beggars.

Some were still able to thrust out a bowl and beg for something to eat; others… had already been stripped of breath by cold and hunger, sprawled like heaps of rotting meat against the walls — no one to spare them a second glance.

Scenes of starved bodies by the roadside like this were a common sight throughout the outer city; Shen Xiuhan had long grown used to them.

He turned his close-cut collar up high, covering over much of his face.

Shen Xiuhan’s gaze swept a circle around him and settled on an old beggar huddled in a corner.

“Clink, clink, clink…”

Two large coins dropped into the cracked bowl before the old beggar.

The old beggar rubbed his eyes in disbelief, and once he made out the copper in the bowl, at once began hammering his forehead to the ground, his mouth pouring out every fawning word he could manage:

“Many thanks, venerable master! May venerable master live a hundred years, may wives and concubines fill your halls, may noble sons fill your courts—”

“Shut it!”

Shen Xiuhan’s face darkened; he deliberately kept his voice pressed low: “I have a question for you. Answer well, and I’ll add ten large coins on top.”

“Venerable master, speak your command! This small old one knows all — he’ll hide nothing!”

Shen Xiuhan raised a hand and pointed — the direction was none other than Tian Erhu’s courtyard. He said in a low voice:

“These past few days, has a group of unfamiliar faces moved into that courtyard?”

“They have! They have!”

The beggar nodded over and over. “These last two days, quite a few rough-looking, unfamiliar men have gone in — vicious-looking, every one of them. They’re none of them good sorts from around this ward…”

“How many?”

“That…”

The old beggar’s face fell into difficulty; he rubbed his frostbite-cracked hands uneasily together:

“Venerable master, that I truly can’t place for you. That lot stay shut up inside all day. What this small old one knows is — every day around late afternoon, two of them come out from the courtyard, and head over to South Street to buy food at the widow Niu’s steamed-cake stall…”

At this, the old beggar couldn’t help licking his lips — whether the picture in his head was of the steamed cakes or the widow, he didn’t know.

Late afternoon, buying steamed cakes…

Shen Xiuhan’s eyes stirred slightly; a plan was already taking shape in his mind.

He tossed down a handful of copper without ceremony, turned, and melted into a narrow side alley.

Behind him came the beggar’s elated forehead-hammering cries:

“Many thanks, venerable master! Many thanks, venerable master!”