Chapter 17: A Bold Girl

Su Wan stepped back twice and looked at a pile of battered ironware on the ground: broken blades, snapped arrows, scraps of iron, and a dagger missing a third of its blade. The pieces looked old and chipped, but their edges had been polished bright. Sunlight flashed coldly off them.

Her gaze settled on the dagger. It was short, with a section missing from the blade and wrapping around the hilt so dirty its original color was impossible to tell. Yet the edge looked exceptionally sharp, more than enough for protection.

The stallholder was a burly, bearded man lounging on his seat, his exposed skin wheat-colored. His brows and hair were black, his eyes bright. Even sitting down, he towered over the neighboring vendors. His shoulders were broad, and the outlines of a muscular back and arms showed beneath his cotton clothes. A bulging bundle hung on his back, its corners worn and frayed.

His hair was somewhat disheveled and greasy. His clothes were dirty and torn, dust marking the cuffs and hem, and several dark-red stains at the edges made her skin prickle. One look told Su Wan he was not a man to provoke. She could sense a fierce, murderous aura about him; he had probably seen blood.

Others seemed to sense it too. They gave him a wide berth and lowered their voices as they passed. If she had not wanted the dagger, Su Wan would not have stopped.

The man was perceptive. Feeling her scrutiny, he looked up. Their eyes met, and Su Wan thought his gaze as bright as a flame, almost hot. Most young women would have looked away in embarrassment under such a stare. She did not.

She bent, picked up the dagger with her fingers clear of the edge, and weighed it in her hand. It was heavier than expected, and much sharper than an ordinary farm cleaver.

“Buying?” the man asked suddenly, his voice low and deep.

“How much?”

He stared without blinking, giving her the impression of being watched by a wild animal. “Three hundred copper coins.”

An old man selling bamboo baskets nearby muttered, “Three hundred for a broken dagger? Robbery.”

The burly man glanced at him. The old vendor immediately fell silent and lowered his head to arrange his baskets.

The price did not frighten Su Wan, but she would not be cheated. “Three hundred is too much. A third of the blade is gone, and the hilt needs rewrapping. I’ll have to repair it.”

The man folded his arms and raised his left brow. “But it can kill.”

Two women nearby changed color and hurried away with their children. Su Wan was unmoved. “Lower the price.”

He studied her with interest. His beard concealed half his face, making his expression hard to read. “Two hundred.”

She set the dagger back on the stall. “One hundred and twenty.”

He shifted and sat upright, looking even taller. His shadow enveloped her, imposing and heavy. “Miss, that’s quite a cut.”

Su Wan remained unruffled. “It’s damaged. You’re lucky if you can sell it at all; there won’t be many buyers. I’ll add ten.”

“One hundred and eighty.”

“Too much. One hundred and fifty. Any more and I don’t want it.”

The man narrowed his eyes without speaking. Su Wan put down the dagger and walked away. She had taken three steps and counted to two when his voice came from behind her. “Sold!”

She smiled, returned to the stall, and crouched. She counted out the coins from her purse and placed them before him. He glanced at them, swept them into his clothes, and handed her the dagger.

She was about to put it in her basket when he said, “Not in there.”

She looked up. He lowered his voice. “There are too many eyes in the county town. A dagger is useful when people can see it.”

Su Wan paused. Was he warning her? She looked around discreetly and spotted two ruffians not far away. They were talking, glancing over from time to time. Her heart sank, though she kept her face composed, and she slipped the dagger inside her outer garment. The cool blade against her waist through the cloth made her feel safer.

“Thank you.”

She rose and left. After she had walked some distance, she could still feel the man watching her, his gaze wild and intent. Only after rounding the corner and escaping it did she breathe out softly.

The ironware he sold was battered, but all of it consisted of weapons. Together with the bloodstains on his clothes and the faint aura of violence, it showed he was no ordinary man. But that had nothing to do with her. She had merely bought a dagger for protection. Whether it would protect her from the men who had marked her was another matter.

Glancing behind her, she saw that the two ruffians had not yet followed. She hurried toward the egg sellers, hearing women bargaining from a distance.

Granny Zhao sat at the foot of a wall, her bamboo basket before her knees. Nine eggs remained; sales had apparently been slow. When she saw Su Wan, she waved. “Wan, over here!”

Su Wan approached and handed her the separate pouch. “Your herbs brought seventy-eight copper coins, Granny. It’s all here.”

“So much?” Granny Zhao asked, surprised.

“You dried them cleanly, and the herbs were good quality. The pharmacy paid a good price.”

The older woman’s fingers trembled around the pouch. Her eggs would not bring this much. Seventy-eight coins could buy plenty of rice and some cloth for Xiao Shitou’s summer clothes. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

Su Wan sat beside her. “You taught me embroidery before. Why be formal?”

Granny Zhao wiped the corner of her eye. “That was a small thing.”

“Not to me.”

The older woman looked at her with growing affection and lowered her voice. “You’ll marry in four days. Are you afraid?”

“Not afraid, exactly. Just uneasy in a way I can’t quite explain.”

Granny Zhao laughed. “What girl isn’t nervous before her wedding? But your new home is close to mine. If anyone treats you badly, come to me.”

Warmth spread through Su Wan’s heart. Before she could answer, Granny Zhao added, “Shi’an knows how to care for people, though. Your life with him won’t be bad, so don’t fret. When you marry, live well, and don’t keep everything bottled up. If he does something wrong, tell him. Men can be foolish; if you don’t say anything, they may think they’ve done nothing wrong.”

Su Wan smiled. “I will.”

Mindful of the two ruffians, she did not linger. “Granny, there’s a lot to do at home. I’d better go first.”

“All right. Take care.”

Su Wan rose and left.

Meanwhile, the stallholder watched the two ruffians approach at a hurried pace. He yawned lazily and stretched out a leg. One man stumbled over it and nearly fell; his companion caught him just in time. Once steady, he scowled, spat, and turned to curse. “Damn you! Don’t you want that leg anymore? If you don’t—”

He met the man’s raised eyes and swallowed the rest. The other ruffian had been ready to curse too, but looking at him, he dared not speak.

They had prowled West Main Street for years, bullying old farmers selling vegetables, extorting women visiting town, and fighting plenty of hooligans. They knew who could be bullied and who could not. The man’s clothes were ragged and his hair untidy, but one sweep of his eyes made their backs tighten. This was not the bravado of a street fighter. It was the hardness of someone who had seen blood.

The long-faced ruffian swallowed, bent his back, and lowered his voice. “Sir, we failed to recognize a great man. We weren’t watching where we were going and offended you. Please overlook it and let us go.”

“Yes, yes,” the tall, thin one said with a nervous smile. “We were just passing through.”

The man did not answer at once. He looked down and brushed dust from his trouser leg. The ruffians exchanged a glance and started to flee, but he suddenly stood. “Stop.”

Their calves trembled. They had barely moved half a step before they froze. The long-faced man put on a miserable expression. “Sir, what else can we do for you?”

The old basket seller kept his head down, clutching bamboo strips, not daring even to glance over. People came and went on the street, yet this patch had fallen very quiet.

The man picked up a piece of broken iron from his stall and tossed it to them. “I haven’t made a sale all morning. How about supporting my business?”

The long-faced ruffian opened his mouth. He had plainly seen the man take one hundred and fifty coins from the girl moments ago, but dared not say so. His companion quickly pulled out a purse and offered it with both hands. “Sir, is this enough?”

The man took the purse and weighed it. He did not say whether it was enough, merely turned his gaze to the long-faced ruffian. The fellow’s face twitched. The tall, thin man kicked him and hissed, “What are you waiting for? Do you want him to take it himself?”

The long-faced man clenched his teeth, his face turning green at the loss. But he dared not refuse. With shaking hands he produced a filthy purse and offered it up.

The stallholder took both purses, tucked them into his clothes, and waved them away. They turned and ran with remarkable speed. Nearby vendors stared. Only after the ruffians were far away did the old basket seller cautiously raise his head, glance at the man, and quickly look down again. Ruffians were troublesome enough; this man was even more frightening.

Ignoring the stares, the man sat back down and shifted the broken weapons on his stall. He looked in the direction Su Wan had gone. After such a delay, a clever, quick-footed girl like her should have left West Main Street by now.

Remembering her bargaining with the dagger in hand, his mouth twitched. She was bold. Not only had she shown no fear of him, she had driven the price from three hundred coins to one hundred and fifty. He had never taken such a loss. Interesting.

He sat a while longer. When no more customers came, he packed up, bought twenty buns, and ate as he headed for the city gate. Elsewhere, Su Wan walked while watching behind her. Only when she reached the gate and saw no sign of the two ruffians did she relax.