Chapter Forty-One: The Strange Uncle

Wang Xiaoshan held a grand celebration for his baby's one-month milestone. With his extensive business connections, the entire restaurant was filled to capacity. Wang Xiaoshan bustled up and down the hall, his face practically blooming with joy. As a relative, Banxia helped welcome guests, which also gave her a chance to be seen by many local merchants—something that would certainly benefit her dealings in the future.

Wang Xiaoshan named his son Wang Mingzhi, wishing for him to be wise and upright in life. The name was chosen by the school master, and Gan Sui even specially gifted a small seal he had carved himself. The jade was lustrous and smooth; Banxia had no idea of its value, but Wang Xiaoshan did. With that in mind, he discreetly asked Bai Lian to look after Banxia a bit more.

Bai Lian, however, never liked mixing business matters into her friendships with other women, but Banxia had been kind to her, so she was close with her regardless.

After a full day of work, Banxia returned home holding Anzi’s hand. She collapsed into a chair. “I’m exhausted.” Hosting a banquet was truly draining—so many social niceties, so much smiling, and not a single mistake allowed. Even the smallest slip could offend someone and ruin a happy occasion. Fortunately, the day had gone smoothly, if not without toil.

Banxia just wanted to rest for a while. Anzi, quick and attentive, brought her a cloak and draped it over her shoulders. “Sister, have a rest.”

Banxia smiled and hugged him. “Aren’t you tired, Anzi? You helped me so much today.”

Helping made Anzi happy; he grinned, showing two adorable dimples that could melt anyone’s heart. “I’m not tired! I can do lots and lots of things for you, Sister.”

“Oh my, our Anzi is such a good boy. I wonder what kind of wife you’ll marry in the future. Just don’t forget about your sister when you have a wife.” Banxia pinched his fair, chubby cheek. Her efforts to fatten him up these past months had succeeded; his face was soft and plump.

“I don’t want a wife. I want to live with Sister forever.”

Seeing how childlike he was, Banxia tapped his nose. “You’re still young. You’ll understand when you’re older. Let’s go boil some water and soak our feet before bed.”

When Banxia woke, the sky outside was already bright and the coals in the basin had burned out, making the room feel even colder. On such a frigid day, getting out of bed was the last thing she wanted.

“Sister, you’re awake?” Anzi was already up, reading, his eyes shining as he looked at her. Banxia felt almost ashamed—this little boy could get up early and study even in the cold, while she was practically a useless salted fish.

“Aren’t you cold, Anzi?” He had only once asked for her help dressing; every other time, he managed by himself. Now that it was cold, Banxia worried he’d catch a chill.

“Not cold,” he said, lifting his clothes to show her. “I’m wearing lots of layers. Sister, it’s snowing outside!”

“Is it really snowing?” Banxia was excited. As someone from the south who’d scarcely seen snow, this was a rare joy. She quickly dressed, opened the window, and saw fat snowflakes falling like coarse salt, filling the air with a biting chill.

There was little snow on the streets; the yamen had hired people to clear them early. But in Banxia’s own courtyard, snow had accumulated.

“If there aren’t too many customers today, let’s build a snowman after breakfast,” she suggested.

“Build a snowman?” Anzi had never done that before.

“We can make a little Anzi in the courtyard. How about it?”

Banxia was set on building a snowman but forgot it was market day. With the cold weather, there was a rush of people buying coal. She didn’t have a free moment all morning. By noon, she finally caught her breath.

“Anzi, let’s go build that snowman,” she called.

No answer came. She glanced at Anzi’s little desk—he was gone. Panic set in. Despite the cold, sweat broke out on her forehead as she frantically searched the house, calling, “Anzi! Anzi…” But there was no sign of the child.

A torrent of dreadful images flooded her mind—children being kidnapped, crippled, or worse. Anzi was so young; what would she do? She rushed out, asking the shopkeepers nearby, “Sister, have you seen my Anzi?”

“No, haven’t seen him.”

The bookshop next door hadn’t seen him either. Banxia hurried down the street, asking as she went. Snow stung her face, the wind lashing her skin until it burned, but she barely noticed. All she could do was shout, “Anzi, where are you?”

Snow blanketed the world, everything white and indistinct. Banxia was nearly in tears.

“Anzi!”

“Sister…”

Suddenly, she heard a voice. Was it real or her imagination? She followed the sound and there was Anzi, running from the end of an alley.

She rushed over and swept him into her arms. “Where did you go? Do you know how worried I was? Didn’t I tell you not to wander off? Why didn’t you listen?” Her relief mingled with anger and gratitude for his safe return, and she held him tightly, tears slipping down her cheeks.

“Madam, you should be gentle—he’s just a child,” a man nearby said.

Banxia calmed herself and loosened her grip. “Did I hurt you? I was just so worried.”

Anzi reached up to wipe her tears. “I’m fine. Don’t cry, Sister. I was naughty. I won’t run off again.”

“Don’t blame the child, madam,” the man interjected. “I dropped my jade pendant in your shop. The boy saw and ran all the way out here to return it. He wasn’t just playing.”

“So Anzi was doing a good deed. Well done. But next time, you can’t go off on your own. You’re too little—what if you got lost?” Banxia’s heart still pounded with fright, but she was deeply grateful he hadn’t encountered any harm.

“Let’s go home now. Say goodbye to the gentleman, Anzi.”

“Goodbye, uncle.”

Banxia picked up Anzi, ready to take him home.

“Wait,” the man called after them. “Let me give this jade pendant to the boy.”

“That’s too valuable. We can’t accept it,” Banxia protested.

“If not for him, I would have lost it. He did a good deed and deserves thanks,” the man insisted.

Banxia had no choice but to let Anzi accept it, thanking the man before heading home.

“Sir, why did you give away your pendant?” a guard asked, catching up.

“Perhaps because he has eyes like Yun’er,” the man replied. His poor sister had perished in the palace after only two years, leaving behind a nephew whose whereabouts were unknown. Was there someone, he wondered, who would care for his nephew as lovingly as that woman just had? Snow fell thick on his shoulders—it was bitterly cold.

Banxia carried Anzi home. “I was so worried when I couldn’t find you. I was afraid someone might take you away.”

“I won’t run, I want to be with Sister.”

“Next time, tell me before you go anywhere, all right?”

“All right.”

Back home, Banxia realized she’d rushed out so quickly she’d left the shop door wide open. Luckily, the bookshop owner next door had kept an eye on things for her. She thanked him and returned inside.

“Your skin is rough,” Anzi said, touching Banxia’s cheek. The tears and biting wind had left her skin raw and chapped.

“It’s all right, I’ll put on some snow cream. Your cheeks are red too—you need some as well.” They were still chatting when a visitor arrived. Banxia hurriedly dabbed on the cream and went out to greet the guest.

It turned out to be someone familiar. “Brother Tian, what brings you here?” It was Tian Defu, Huiniang’s husband, whom Banxia hadn’t seen in a long time.

“I brought you some charcoal. Last autumn, I had time on my hands so I got together with some folks in the village and we made some to sell. It turned out pretty well. Huiniang said things are expensive in town, and with winter here, you’d need it, so she sent me to bring some over.”

He’d traveled half a day and his hands were red with cold. Banxia quickly brought water and some hand balm for him.

“Thank you for thinking of us. How is Huiniang?”

“She’s well, just sleepy all the time now. Eats heartily and has gained some weight. She spends her days making clothes for the baby.”

“And your mother?”

“Her health’s good. The medicine you sent last time worked; her legs haven’t hurt all winter. She’s grateful to you and made you some shoes, and Huiniang made some clothes for you. We caught a fox in the woods recently—not very big. After tanning the hide, Huiniang made a vest for the scholar, since he’s often outdoors.”

Banxia looked at the table piled with gifts. “This is too generous. You should keep these for yourselves…”

“Please, don’t say that. Without you and Scholar Gan, our family wouldn’t have survived, let alone be well fed and warm now. We can never repay such kindness.”

Banxia wanted him to stay for a meal, but Tian Defu was anxious to get home. The days were short, and with snow falling, night travel was risky. She didn’t press him, instead packed some food and supplies for his journey, secretly tucking five taels of silver into the parcel, and saw him off.

That night, Banxia burned some of Tian Defu’s charcoal. She’d inquired about prices earlier—the county’s rates were much lower than the city’s. If this batch burned well, she could have them supply her directly, saving money and earning a little more. The charcoal burned beautifully, even better than what she’d been buying. The next morning, she sent word to the Tian family.

Looking out at the falling snow, Banxia wondered where Gan Sui was by now. The New Year was drawing near—surely he would be home soon?

“Sister, let’s build a snowman,” Anzi called from inside.

“I’m coming,” she replied.

In the northern desert—

“What kind of godforsaken place is this? I’m freezing to death. Ah-choo!” Lin You shivered in the wind and snow.

“Just a little further. There should be an inn up ahead,” Mr. Chuan said, consulting his map.

“Teacher, the farther we go, the farther from home. How will we get back for the New Year?” Lin You looked worried.

“A scholar should put studies first. What does it matter where you spend the holiday?”

Gan Sui couldn’t help but frown. Not go home for the New Year? But this would be his first New Year with Banxia…