I Am A Husband Curser, And You Are A Wife Curser. - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Selling Cakes

Xiangxi didn’t rush home. He waited at the pier for a while, his feet freezing until they went numb, before he finally saw Uncle Chen leading a group of men toward the docks.

“Uncle Chen, Uncle Chen!” Xiangxi approached with a forced smile.

“Xiangxi, why are you back here again?” Uncle Chen hadn’t expected to see him.

“Uncle Chen, can I set up the stall today?” Xiangxi’s head throbbed from the cold, but finding Uncle Chen made the suffering worth it.

“The stall, the stall—is that all you think about?” Uncle Chen tapped Xiangxi on the head with his tobacco pipe.

“You’re a young ger, don’t you have a brain? It’s dangerous to be out here alone at this hour.” Uncle Chen felt a lingering fear just thinking about it; the docks were full of hoodlums, and if Xiangxi were bullied, the Xiang family wouldn’t even know who to settle the score with.

“Uncle Chen, my brother is injured, my sister-in-law needs medicine, and the baby is still small. Things are really tight at home. When I was packing up the stall earlier, I found that many more things were stolen. It’s almost the New Year; I really have no other choice.” Xiangxi sniffled, pleading in a low voice.

Looking at Xiangxi, who was practically frozen into an ice block, Uncle Chen couldn’t bring himself to say anything harsh.

“Around noon then. Go back and prepare; you can set up at noon.”

“Thank you, Uncle Chen! Thank you!” Overjoyed, Xiangxi thanked him a thousand times and hurried home to tell his brother and sister-in-law the good news.

By the time he got back, his brother and sister-in-law had already finished breakfast, leaving his portion warming in the kitchen.

“How did it go?” his brother asked urgently.

“The cakes and tea leaves are gone, but Uncle Chen said we can set up at noon.” Xiangxi shared the good news.

“Amitabha, Amitabha.” Though the sister-in-law was pained by the stolen goods, she was relieved they would have income again.

“I’ll go knead the dough and bake the cakes now.” She stood up to head to the kitchen.

“Sister-in-law, here are three coins. Some officers gave them to me for hot water this morning.” Xiangxi handed over the money and went to the kitchen to eat. Once finished, he would help her with the baking.

The sister-in-law weighed the three coins in her hand. Even if Xiangxi had kept them for himself, she would never have known, but the boy was honest and incapable of such deceit.

The workers at the pier loved hubing (wheat cakes). Those who were better off would sometimes order an egg drop soup to go with it, but they were the minority. Most just ate their cakes with a mouthful of hot water.

Xiangxi helped his sister-in-law until they had about ten large cakes ready. He placed them in a large back-basket, intending to carry them to the pier stall.

“We won’t sell noodle soup today, just cakes. I’ll bring the next batch over once it’s ready,” she instructed.

The pier was a melting pot of all sorts of people. Usually, it was the brother and sister-in-law who ran the stall while Xiangxi stayed home to watch the child. He only helped out when his sister-in-law was recovering from her postpartum month.

“Okay, sister-in-law, I’m heading out.” Xiangxi hoisted the basket, his only thought being to earn money quickly.

This pier was a freight hub for tea, silk, grain, and furs. With high cargo volume came many workers—and naturally, the Xiang family wasn’t the only ones with a stall. However, thanks to Uncle Chen’s protection, their location was quite good.

Since it was the first day of work after the break, few stalls had opened, and Xiangxi’s cakes sold well.

Just as he was about to head home for more, he saw his brother arriving with a carrying pole.

“Brother, why are you here?” Xiangxi took the pole from him.

“The baby was clinging to his mother, so I brought these over first.” Xiang Qiang still felt a bit lightheaded. After delivering the cakes, he sat down nearby to rest.

Xiangxi stayed at the front to handle the sales. Some of the more shameless workers who had intended to flirt with the young ger behaved themselves once they saw Xiang Qiang.

A few familiar workers asked for hot water and sat at the table, eating the cakes with pickles they had brought from home.

After resting, Xiang Qiang sought out a shipmaster he knew and bought some tea scraps to brew for the customers. Tea was one coin per person. Xiangxi busied himself selling cakes while simultaneously boiling water.

When Yang Tongchuan passed the pier on patrol, he spotted the cake-selling ger from a distance.

Still here?

Now that it was daylight, he could see more clearly. The ger’s cheeks were flushed bright red from the cold, his nose was twitching, and his hands were rougher than the maids in Yang’s own household.

Yang Tongchuan observed from afar. The boy was incredibly hardworking—never idle for a second—refilling water, stoking the fire, selling cakes, and collecting money with great efficiency.

By the stove sat a man with a white cloth wrapped around his head. That was likely the older brother.

I thought they said they were out of tea?

Yang Tongchuan led his men toward the stall. Seeing the officers approach, the workers sitting at the table moved aside and left quietly.

Xiangxi realized it was Constable Yang again and felt a spark of curiosity. Why is he back?

“Do you have food and tea now?”

“Yes, we have cakes and tea. I’ll get them for you right away, sirs.”

Xiangxi was already convinced that Constable Yang was a “good official” who actually paid for his meals, so he moved even faster.

After serving the cakes and tea, and with his brother’s permission, Xiangxi also made egg drop soup for the officers.

Eggs were a luxury in winter. There were only three at the stall, which his brother had just brought over, intended for his wife’s recovery if they didn’t sell. Xiangxi grit his teeth and used two, leaving one for his sister-in-law. He added extra water to stretch the soup across the bowls and served them.

Once they were served, Xiangxi retreated to a distance.

The lunch rush had passed. There were a few overbaked cakes left in the basket. Xiangxi picked an unappealing one, broke it in half, gave the larger piece to his brother, and kept the smaller bit for himself, eating his lunch with some hot water.

Watching the egg drop soup in the officers’ bowls, Xiangxi felt a pang of craving; he had almost forgotten what eggs tasted like.

The way Xiangxi quietly swallowed his saliva didn’t escape Yang Tongchuan’s eyes.

He thought to himself: Is this family using this ger like a common servant?

After finishing the meal, Yang Tongchuan left the money—not a penny short, even paying for the soup—and led his men away.

Xiangxi collected the coins. He wished such “big clients” would come every day.

Yang Tongchuan returned home that evening after his shift.

The Yang family’s courtyard house was located on the eastern edge of the city, just one street away from the trade-heavy western district. There were two brothers in the Yang family, and their parents were still living.

The eldest brother, Yang Tongshan, was a manager at the largest pawnshop in the county. His wife was a childhood betrothal; they had been married for seven or eight years but had no children.

The second son, Yang Tongchuan, was a constable. He had married last year, but his bride disappeared less than a month after the wedding.

The Yang family claimed it was a divorce, but the neighbors whispered that something major had happened on the wedding night. Some said Yang Tongchuan had gotten drunk and accidentally killed her, then paid to cover it up; others said she had an unspeakable illness and was sent back; others still said she never wanted to marry him and eloped with an old flame at the first chance.

Rumors were rife, and most believed the bride was dead. Because of this, Yang Tongchuan had earned the grim reputation of being a “wife-curser.