Chapter Thirty-Five: This Thing Is Called a Potato

Li Goudan’s home was situated on Nan Street in Cangzhou, arguably the liveliest part of the city. A short walk out the door to the left would bring you to a bustling market lined with stalls on both sides. In the memories of his childhood, there were Uncle Li, who sold roast chicken and whom he often teased, Aunt Wang with her pastries, Aunt Li with her fish, and Old Zhou who made sugar figurines. Now, all of them had moved away, replaced by unfamiliar faces. The world remained, but the people had changed—a thought that could not help but stir a sense of melancholy.

Beneath the setting sun, Li Pingyang strolled down the street with his hands clasped behind his head, a blade of grass between his lips, his demeanor utterly carefree. He attracted a flurry of curious glances from passersby, but paid them no mind. Even Little Dragonfly, his childhood companion, found this young master—absent for several years—somewhat unfamiliar, especially given his odd and uncharacteristic behavior, as if he were a completely different person.

Zhou Li led a horse behind them, walking alongside Little Dragonfly. The two chatted and laughed, with Zhou Li boasting now and then about his adventures and drawing gasps of amazement and admiration.

After another stretch, the three stopped before the grand entrance of a residence, flanked on either side by majestic stone lions. The lions sat upright, gazing sternly into the distance, their eyes fiercely guarding the street before them.

Stepping forward, Li Pingyang pressed both hands against the wooden doors and pushed gently. With a creak, the doors slowly opened. In his memory, the Li household had three servants. Whenever the doors were opened, he expected to see them bowing respectfully to greet him, calling out, “Young master!” and vying to carry his luggage.

He stood there, a smile on his face, lost in the pleasant fantasy. But reality dealt an awkward blow: as the doors swung open, a cold draft swept through the entryway, and not a soul was in sight.

Little Dragonfly stepped forward to explain, “Young master, not long after you all left, business at the tofu shop began to decline. Madam decided to close it down.”

“She said she didn’t need so many servants now that she lived alone, and she preferred the quiet. So, she let everyone go.”

As she spoke, Little Dragonfly’s eyes grew moist. In truth, none of the servants had wanted to leave; they had simply grown accustomed to following Madam, not seeking wealth. Two of them had departed without collecting their wages, merely honoring Madam’s wishes, but they promised to return whenever she needed them. As for Little Dragonfly herself, being an orphan, she had nowhere else to go if Madam sent her away—she would have been left to sleep on the streets and survive on scraps.

In the end, Madam’s heart softened, and she allowed Little Dragonfly to stay. The decline of the tofu business, however, could be traced mostly to the Su family.

Ever since the Su family’s tofu became renowned, they had all but monopolized the tofu trade in Cangzhou. Only a handful of big merchants remained independent, while others, eager to curry favor before the Su family’s alliances solidified, had already gone over, wagging their tails in submission.

The Su family’s growing strength was not only due to their business acumen, but also because of the support of a certain Eunuch Wang. Outwardly, the Su family were mere merchants dealing in tofu, but behind the scenes, they conducted other businesses under Eunuch Wang’s patronage.

From Little Dragonfly, Li Pingyang learned the current state of affairs. It was clear that if he wished to regain a foothold in Cangzhou and revive his family’s business, he would have to confront the Su family—the formidable tiger in his path.

With his forward-thinking business mindset, he was confident he could become the wealthiest man in Cangzhou; it was only a matter of time. He already had a plan forming in his mind.

As they stood conversing outside, a middle-aged woman, disturbed by the noise, opened the door and stepped out. Seeing Little Dragonfly standing outside with a stranger and a young man, she was momentarily taken aback, then broke into a gentle smile and half-curtsied in greeting. When her eyes met the young man’s, she froze in shock, then turned eagerly to Little Dragonfly and demanded, “He… is he…?”

This woman was strikingly beautiful, her features finely wrought. Though age had touched her, her skin was still smooth as jade. Only the faintest lines betrayed her years of toil. Her long dress swayed gently in the breeze, and despite its simplicity, her graceful bearing and dignified air could not be concealed.

“Mother! I’m home!”

Li Pingyang dashed forward and wrapped his arms around her, nestling into her embrace. Perhaps embarrassed by the onlookers, the woman seemed a little flustered and shy. Realizing his own exuberance, Li Pingyang released her, rubbing his head sheepishly and saying he’d missed her terribly.

A-Jiao tapped his forehead with a slender finger and said, “If you missed me so much, why didn’t you write even once? Did you really miss your mother?”

Li Pingyang grinned, “Truly! I missed you so much I couldn’t eat or sleep. That’s why I had to come and see you in person.”

A-Jiao’s brows arched like distant willow leaves as she smiled, “You always know how to make your mother happy. Enough, it’s been a long journey—you must be hungry. Go wash up. I’ve made your favorite braised tofu.”

At the mention of braised tofu, Li Pingyang’s eyes lit up. He dashed off to his room to wash, leaving A-Jiao and Little Dragonfly exchanging a smile.

Pushing open his bedroom door, he found, thanks to his mother’s diligent care, not a speck of dust within. Everything was spotless, the bedding neatly stacked and freshly changed.

He approached the mirror and dipped his hands into a brass basin to check the water’s temperature. His mother had thoughtfully prepared it—neither too hot nor too cold. He lowered his head and washed his face, relishing the comfort. Gazing at his own delicate features in the mirror, he was filled with emotion, momentarily lost in thought.

After cleaning up, Little Dragonfly knocked and stood outside, bringing him clean clothes, intending, as before, to help him change. At the mention of being dressed by someone else, Li Pingyang—single for over twenty years—blushed furiously. He opened the door just a crack, grabbed the clothes, and quickly shut it again, insisting he could manage on his own.

Zhou Li, having escorted Li Pingyang safely to Cangzhou, had fulfilled his duty. With pressing matters elsewhere, he took his leave and did not stay for dinner. He asked Little Dragonfly to pass along a message: should Li Pingyang ever need anything, he could send word to the Secret Punishment Office, and all of Division Six would be at his disposal, ready to answer his call.

With the perch won at the street competition, A-Jiao made a soup for Li Pingyang. The dinner table was laid with all his favorite dishes, each one thoughtfully prepared a day in advance.

The meal ended only when Li Pingyang was so full he could eat no more. Afterward, he summoned Little Dragonfly in secret and handed her a bundle of chopped pieces, instructing her to plant them in a large pot filled with fresh soil, to water and sun them regularly, and to tend them carefully until they sprouted.

For these would be the key to his future prosperity and the tool with which he would defeat the Su family.

Little Dragonfly looked skeptical, unable to see what was so special about these odd things. She asked what they were.

Li Pingyang, brimming with confidence, smiled and replied, “These are called potatoes.”