Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Cui Shao’s fever broke within a few days. During his recovery, people visited our small courtyard every day, drawn by his reputation and eager to hear him play the zither.

Whenever I crossed paths with them, they were unfailingly respectful, addressing me as “Madam.”

As early summer arrived, I opened a sesame cake stall at the mouth of the alley.

Even though Cui Shao’s fame had spread far and wide-with the price of a single performance rising to a mace of silver-one can never have too much money. Earning a little extra made me feel more secure.

However, business wasn’t as brisk as I had anticipated. My younger brother and I were enthusiastically calling out to passersby, but only one elderly auntie approached.

“I’ve never seen sesame cakes like these before,” she remarked.

“Please, give them a try! They’re Gusu-style, very fragrant!” my brother chirped, a wide grin on his face.

The auntie gave a dry laugh. “Never mind, never mind. I’ll just go home and griddle some myself… How much for one? Give me five!”

Her attitude shifted abruptly. Her eyes were fixed on Cui Shao, who had just returned from outside and was preparing to help me out.

“Auntie, they’re eight wen each. Once you’ve tasted them, you’ll know how good they are.”

Cui Shao didn’t offer a cheap, fawning smile like my brother. He simply let the corners of his mouth turn up slightly. Combined with that handsome face-as refreshing as a cool breeze-it was enough to make anyone’s heart gladden.

The auntie looked flattered. “Eight wen? That’s not expensive at all! The ones on the main street are smaller and thinner than yours, and they cost ten wen!”

“Please come again if you find them to your liking.”

Those long, fair hands-the same hands that played the zither and painted-deftly picked up five sesame cakes, wrapped them in oil paper, and handed them to her.

The auntie’s shrewd, calculating eyes instantly softened like spring waters thawing. “Of course, of course…”

As she lingered, people behind her began to nudge. “Hurry up, we want to buy some too!”

Soon, the tiny stall was swarmed by young maidens and wives, surrounding it so tightly that not even a drop of water could leak through.

Cui Shao didn’t get annoyed. He remained patient as he served them. Although we were making a lot of money, the more I watched, the more stifled I felt. It took me a good while to realize someone was calling out to me.

“Lady? Lady? Please take the money.”

I only caught the last part: “take the money.”

A young girl with a flushed face held out her arm, eight wen resting in her palm.

Cui Shao spoke to the crowd behind him, “Everyone, please just give the money to my wife.”

The young women waiting in line all looked disappointed, yet none of them left.

Gradually, the stall’s business stabilized. Eventually, we didn’t even need Cui Shao to use his “charms” to attract customers. After all, my sesame cakes were made with quality ingredients, and my strategy was to sell in high volume with low margins.

Between kneading the dough and selling the cakes, my brother and I were becoming overwhelmed.

One day, after we finished for the evening, Cui Shao said to me, “Yu, teach me how to griddle the cakes.”