Chapter Twenty-One: You Scoundrel

Leaving the Fragrant Pavilion, Little Ding’s mind was still echoing with Han Luer’s bright, tinkling laughter, lingering long after he’d walked away...

Counting the fifty taels of reward silver he’d collected at the county yamen, Little Ding now had seventy taels on him. Though this was less than half of the two hundred taels he’d hoped for when he’d first taken up the quest, he had made peace with the outcome and no longer dwelled on it. After all, even this amount far exceeded his initial expectations before setting out.

Little Ding decided to head north of the city to find a blacksmith’s shop, intending to have a weapon forged for self-defense and, at the same time, to get rid of the pile of junk they’d taken from Zhao Laixi’s hands.

Passing by Sunset Temple, Little Ding noticed five or six beggars squatting in the corner by the temple gate. Beggars chose this spot for two reasons: first, the temple was frequented by worshippers; second, those coming to offer incense were mostly kind-hearted; and third, the monks rarely drove them away. Indeed, everyone had their own path—each person, their own way of surviving.

Little Ding told Zhao Laixi to distribute all the tattered clothes they’d extorted from the mountain bandits among the beggars. The beggars bowed repeatedly, hands pressed together in gratitude, their mouths full of well-wishes and blessings for the New Year.

In these times, there were no false beggars who drove luxury cars in private like those of later ages. With winter approaching, the beggars were overjoyed to receive anything that could keep out the cold.

“Big brother, honestly, we might as well not have bothered taking those clothes. We carried them all this way but didn’t get a single coin for them,” Zhao Laixi grumbled.

“We still had to take them. If those bandits hadn’t chosen the wrong path, they wouldn’t have ended up like this. We didn’t have time to haul them all to the authorities, but we had to punish them a little, at least,” Little Ding replied solemnly.

After finding a blacksmith, Little Ding traded several hatchets and kitchen knives looted from the bandits for a reasonably sharp dagger, leaving the blacksmith grinning from ear to ear. Everyday tools were easier to sell than weapons, and Little Ding was offering several iron implements for just one dagger. Given the limited ironworking skills and scarce ore resources of the age, ironware was a precious commodity. Ordinary smithies struggled to produce fine weapons; only master craftsmen with superior materials could forge truly exceptional blades.

By the time they left the smithy, it was already getting late. Little Ding mentally tallied what his household needed—there was a great deal. Clothing, food, shelter, daily necessities—his home lacked everything. It simply wasn’t possible to buy it all at once.

Because he had so much to purchase and much ground to cover, Little Ding, ignoring Zhao Laixi’s protests, stopped at a carriage stable and spent eight taels of silver on a donkey cart. The cart even had a canopy, so they wouldn’t get wet if it rained.

He had originally considered buying a horse cart or an ox cart, but the mountain road from the county to Sunset Village was narrow and rough; a larger cart would be hard to manage. Besides, ox and horse carts were nearly twice as expensive as donkey carts. With plenty still to buy and uncertain how much he’d end up spending, he decided a donkey cart would suffice for now—the larger cart could wait until he’d earned more money.

With the cart, shopping became much easier. The streets were quiet in the afternoon, and soon the two arrived at a large fabric shop. Little Ding planned to first buy clothes for himself and his family; the clothes the Tian family wore were all in tatters—who knew how many years they’d been patched and repatched?

Upon entering, the shop assistant barely glanced at their shabby attire, clearly dismissing them as paupers who might at best buy a little scrap cloth to patch their rags—hardly worth his time. He’d seen their kind too many times before.

This fabric shop was sizable, selling not only cloth but also ready-made garments, hats, shoes, socks, pillows, quilts, curtains, mosquito nets, sheets, towels—nearly every everyday textile one could need.

Little Ding first ordered two outfits each for himself and Zhao Laixi: one set of cotton long robes for going out and one set of linen short jackets for working at home. He also chose two sets of cotton undergarments and two pairs of short boots and socks for each of them.

When the shop assistant saw them picking out cotton garments, his attitude changed instantly; he bustled over with a beaming smile, eager to help.

Little Ding then selected two sets of inner and outer clothes—cotton, of course—for each of Tian Dabo and Tian Xiaofu. Cotton might not be as splendid as silk, but it was comfortable and slightly cheaper.

There were, however, several women in the family whose clothing also needed replacing, which caused Little Ding some distress. For men’s clothes, he could estimate sizes based on his and Zhao Laixi’s builds, but the women at home—Madam Li, Little Ya, Little E, Second Girl, and Little Pearl—were all much slimmer, and he had no idea what sizes would fit, nor what to consider when choosing women’s garments.

He also recalled seeing Second Girl’s patched bellyband the previous night—surely such worn undergarments were uncomfortable. Clearly, the women’s underclothes needed replacing as well.

Little Ding stood hesitantly in the women’s section, unsure which sizes to choose, when a flash of red caught his eye. Turning, he saw a young woman, dressed in a delicate red pleated silk skirt, also browsing the women’s apparel.

She looked familiar, but for a moment he couldn’t recall where he’d seen her. She seemed a year or two older than Little E, but was healthier, more radiant, and more fully developed. An idea struck him: why not use her as a reference for picking out clothes for the women at home?

So, he would glance at the girl and choose a skirt, glance again and pick out a bellyband...

After selecting a few garments, he turned and suddenly found the young woman had appeared at his side. She glanced at the women’s skirts and bellybands in his left hand, then at the pair of gauzy women’s underpants in his right. Her cheeks flushed; she raised her hand and slapped him, scolding, “You scoundrel!” before storming off in a huff.

Little Ding stood there, clutching his left cheek, dazed, watching the girl’s retreating figure. What a fiery-tempered woman! From her accent, he detected a hint of Sichuanese. Suddenly it dawned on him—wasn’t she the very same girl who’d spat her tea at the Fragrant Pavilion? But why had she slapped him?

He looked down at the underpants in his hand—they were open-crotched. Glancing at the clothing rack, he saw that all the women’s underpants of this era were open-crotched and made of extremely thin, light material.

Now he understood. No wonder she’d hit him! A grown man, staring at a young woman while picking out women’s underwear—who wouldn’t take him for a pervert?

Little Ding quickly scanned the shop; luckily, there were only a few other customers, most clustered near the fabrics. Zhao Laixi was still at the counter, watching over the pile of clothes they’d already picked.

Thank goodness—few had witnessed his embarrassment! Little Ding hurriedly chose two sets of inner and outer clothes plus shoes and socks for each of the women at home. For Little Pearl, he picked the smallest size; the rest he chose based on the young woman’s build.

Returning to the counter, still worried the clothes might not fit, he bought two bolts of cotton and one of linen as well. In this era, women learned sewing from a young age—making their own clothes from cloth would ensure a better fit.

He then selected several cotton quilts—enough for all at home, including Zhao Laixi and his wife, making nine in total. Remembering that it was already late autumn and winter was near, he bought plenty of cotton for making warm winter clothes.

When it came time to tally up the bill, the sum the shop assistant calculated made Little Ding’s heart leap into his throat!