Chapter Thirty-One: The Tofu Beauty

Later, thanks to Bam's careful care, the white-haired man's injuries finally healed. Together, they rebuilt the treehouse, and the white-haired man even taught Bam some martial arts.

After that battle, Bam had changed a lot. Perhaps his father and mother had always stayed by his side, guarding him from above in an invisible way.

Once his wounds were healed, the white-haired man bid farewell to Bam, saying he had other matters to attend to. If he could, he admitted, he would have liked to stay. The scenery and environment here were everything he had longed for. Most importantly, here was an adorable and kind brown bear who could cook delicious meals and had even saved his life!

On the day of his departure, to commemorate their friendship, the white-haired man said he had something to give Bam. For days before, he had been acting mysteriously in the back hills, returning home late every night, and no one knew what he was up to.

That noon, the white-haired man covered Bam’s eyes with his hands and led him to a bamboo grove behind the mountain, stopping by a boulder and instructing Bam not to peek. He took out the item he had prepared, hiding it behind his back. As Bam turned around, he handed him a woven bamboo basket.

This basket was made by his own hand—from the first step of selecting bamboo in the grove, to scraping off the green layer, removing the joints, splitting the bamboo open, and shaving it into strips suitable for weaving. Some strips had sharp edges, and since he rushed to finish, the white-haired man's fingers were cut many times. He paid no mind, each time simply putting the wounded finger in his mouth for a moment before continuing to weave.

When the basket was finished, he carved his name inside with a small knife, hoping Bam would always remember him.

During their idle conversations, the white-haired man had told Bam some things about himself, including that he had a son.

That was why Bam, upon seeing Li Pingyang, had followed him—he saw the descendant of the white-haired man, someone who resembled him greatly.

After receiving the gift, Bam hugged the white-haired man tightly, moved to tears.

Bam liked the gift very much, but had little to offer in return. After thinking it over, he reluctantly gave away a piece of “honeycomb from ‘82” as a gift.

Good heavens! That honeycomb had passed through the mouths of several bears, its surface polished by countless tongues! The white-haired man accepted it with tears in his eyes.

...

The brown bear’s memories ended there.

Li Pingyang sat on a stone, listening with great interest. Nearby, Zhou Li fell asleep halfway through, his snoring occasionally breaking the silence.

As for what became of the white-haired man, or what he went on to do, the brown bear had no idea.

He didn’t know what kind of organization Thunder Hall was, nor why they hunted him, nor what secret they hoped to learn from him.

Even Li Pingyang hadn’t anticipated that one day he would become the strategist of Thunder Hall—and even fall in love with a frosty beauty! But those are tales for another time.

After hearing the story, Li Pingyang was more certain than ever that his father had once come to Great Song, and was also a traveler between worlds. To unravel all these mysteries, he would have to find him and ask face to face.

Suddenly, something occurred to him.

Li Pingyang quickly woke Zhou Li, bade Bam a hasty farewell, and the two mounted their white horse, taking a shortcut through the forest toward Cangzhou.

The letter he had read that day was from Li Dog-egg’s mother in Cangzhou—a family letter explaining that she had caught a cold and, combined with her longing, was bedridden.

Li Pingyang knew well that she simply missed him, and had found a pretext to see her precious son.

Especially after reading the Great Song headlines and learning that her beloved son, Li Dog-egg, had become a talent of Lanzhou, his poems even recited in the palace!

So many suitors came knocking that the threshold was nearly kicked down. At first, she felt honored, but eventually, seeing matchmakers and suitors at her door, she mostly tried to avoid them.

Once, when she went to buy vegetables, passing the stalls of the Zhangs, Lis, and Wangs, she would haggle for less-than-fresh produce and make do.

Now, to climb her family’s social ladder, vegetables were delivered free to her door every day, leaving her fretting over what to eat.

From Li Pingyang’s memories, Li Dog-egg’s mother was a renowned beauty called “Tofu Belle.” Her name was A Jiao, once an entertainer at Drunken Moon House.

The two had met during a moon-viewing, falling in love at first sight. To live happily together, A Jiao used her savings to buy her own freedom.

Afterward, she stayed by Li Shenfang’s side, opening a small shop selling tofu.

Though business was never great, it was enough to scrape by. Not long after, they had a child, and Li Dog-egg’s birth brought even more joy to their home.

Why the couple parted ways, he had no memory of. He only recalled they had a fierce argument, after which Li Dog-egg stayed with his father.

As he grew older, Li Dog-egg developed his own personality. At about nine, he secretly climbed into a neighbor's carriage and went to Cangzhou to see his mother.

Now, six years had passed since then...

His mother, A Jiao, also had another nickname: “Little Pepper!” Yes, her personality was straightforward and fiery—completely at odds with her beauty.

In modern terms, she was a typical tomboy.

Before dusk, Li Pingyang and Zhou Li finally arrived in Cangzhou, where the changes since his last memory were quite remarkable.

Upon entering Cangzhou, they saw a broad avenue. An elderly man pushed a cart loaded with vegetables, ready to stock the market stalls.

“Steamed buns, piping hot buns! Last basket for today—if you’re late, there’s none left! Come and buy...”

Ahead, a bun vendor called out, his shop’s aroma wafting from afar. Pedestrians bustled back and forth, gazing around, creating a lively scene.

Opposite the bun shop, a fortune-telling stall had drawn a crowd. The stall owner, an elderly man with graying hair, would touch the tortoise shell in his arms and predict a person’s fate.

Zhou Li led the white horse behind, while Li Pingyang walked with his hands behind his back, observing the surroundings as they strolled.

“Sir, would you like to buy something fun?”

As they walked, a woman in plain clothes called out to Li Pingyang. She was selling little trinkets—children’s rattles, roly-poly toys, spinning tops, small bells, and a kind of bird-shaped whistle.

Li Pingyang picked up one of the birds and played with it for a while, finding it amusing, and asked the vendor, “How much is this?”

The birds were clay whistles, available as painted or plain clay, shaped like birds, animals, or little figures. The one in his hand was a cheaper clay model.

“Three copper coins.”

Seeing that Li Pingyang was blowing into the bird’s head instead of the whistle’s mouthpiece, his face reddening with the effort yet unable to make a sound, the woman laughed, picked up another, and demonstrated for him.

In the end, Li Pingyang bought two. Turning around, he found Zhou Li missing; looking again, Zhou Li had wandered over to a dart-throwing stall, watching passersby throw darts at a spinning target.