Chapter 6

On Second Brother He’s birthday, nearly twenty relatives and neighbors came.

I brought out the fish, meat, and vegetarian dishes I had cooked, one by one, and even prepared the birthday cakes.

Everyone ate to their heart’s content, their mouths glistening with oil.

After his birthday, Second Brother He told everyone he met that my place was worth visiting.

The dishes were plentiful, looked and tasted great, and saved both money and effort.

As word spread, my shop’s reputation truly took off.

Business got better and better, and Liu’er-the helper Granny Liu and I had kept-was so busy we barely had a moment to breathe.

Liu’er was a little beggar that Granny Liu had taken in.

He had worked as a helper in the shop for three years already.

When Granny Liu returned, I handed all the silver I had earned to her.

After deducting costs and the money I had fronted myself, there was still seven taels left.

She only took five of them, and even reached up to smooth a stray lock of hair by my temple: “These five taels will be the rent for the next year. This old lady will wait for you in the county town.”

“I hope that every choice our Li makes in the future will be for herself.”

I opened my mouth, but couldn’t utter a single word.

Even two taels a month would not be too much for such a good shop.

I knew she was helping me.

Somehow, word of my bet with Granny Liu got out.

The news that I had made a full five taels of silver in a month also reached my father and mother.

Three days after renting the shop, a familiar figure showed up at the door carrying a basket.

Inside the basket were a few wrinkled apples and some eggs.

Mother’s eyes flickered as she stammered, “Li, Mother came to see you.”

I lowered my eyes and replied indifferently, “Is there something you need?”

Mother handed me the basket, smiling: “The chickens at home laid a few eggs. Mother remembers you like them, you used to fight with your sister Pianyue and your brother Feng Er for them, so I brought them here especially for you.”

“I don’t like eggs.”

Mother froze for a moment: “You don’t? I remember you used to…”

I hadn’t eaten eggs in years.

She remembered that Lin Pianyue liked dumplings stuffed with chive blossoms, remembered that Lin Yuefeng didn’t like celery and scallions.

But she never remembered that eggs gave me a rash and made me itch all over.

Then why did I still fight them for eggs?

Because I had never, like them, eaten a whole egg to myself.

Mine always had to be shared with Father, and with Mother.

Back then, I just couldn’t understand why, though we were all born of the same parents, I was the only one who never got a whole egg.

When I got a bit older, I suddenly realized-even people’s ten fingers are not all the same length.

How could people’s hearts be any different?