Chapter 7

Lighting lanterns, igniting candle stands, trimming wicks, and refilling oil—busy, bustling activity. Smiling service. Though she was a candle attendant, occasionally when customers sent her on errands, she could not refuse.

Tonight, out of the six private rooms managed by Madam Yang, two had hired entertainers for singing and dancing performances. While trimming wicks, Yang Manniang had the good fortune to enjoy a glimpse of the era’s light and graceful songs and dances.

With the first beat of the strings and drums, both sleeves rose; like drifting snow, the dancers swayed and spun, resembling fluttering dandelion seeds. The beauties wore splendid, colorful costumes, their figures graceful and supple, dancing as lightly as butterflies to the accompaniment of the musicians.

Especially captivating was Shui Susu, the leading dancer of the West Tower. Her petite face was no larger than a palm, her skin as white and smooth as jade—truly a sight to behold. Her movements were light and agile, reminiscent of a swallow dancing upon one’s palm, impossible to look away from.

Each of her performances earned twenty taels of silver—an amount that made the desperately poor Madam Yang secretly drool with envy. Earning money was hard, and the work was bitter.

Fortunately, as a candle attendant, her main duties were during the day. At the hour of the rooster, she would light the candles and tend them for an hour before handing over her duties.

At the first quarter of the hour of the dog, dusk was settling in. Famished, Yang Manniang finished her day’s work and wrapped herself in a sheepskin coat, jogging hurriedly toward the South Scented Gate.

The north wind at night was even harsher than during the day, slicing across her face like a knife. She ran along the leeward side of the street, guided by the lantern light from the shops lining both sides, the crunch of snow underfoot accompanying her every step.

By the time she reached the front street of the South Scented Gate, it was the last quarter of the hour of the dog, the sky fully dark. The winter night sky was exceptionally bright with stars.

She could not return home directly; first, she had to visit Old Liu at Yinan Lane on the main street. The money owed for the laundry services she and her sister had done was supposed to have been delivered yesterday but, for some unknown reason, had not arrived on time.

This caused their elder sister, Yang Panniang, to fret anxiously all morning. Since she worked during the day, she had no time to call on Old Liu. Although night had fallen, Old Liu’s husband sold lanterns at the State Bridge night market and did not return until past midnight.

Thus, Yang Manniang knew that their household was far from bedtime, so calling then was not too rude.

“Old Liu! Old Liu!” She raised her voice and knocked on the door.

“Who’s there?” Soon, Old Liu appeared in a worn dog-skin coat, opening the door. Seeing Yang Manniang, she warmly took her hand and invited her inside.

“Oh, it’s you, Manniang! I was just planning to come by your house tomorrow, and here you are already.” Her family, also tenants, clearly lived better than Yang Manniang’s. Not only did they rent a private courtyard, but under a corner shed were piles of charcoal baskets—things that all required money to buy.

Having endured yet another freezing night at home, Yang Manniang couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy.

“With such cold weather, come in quickly and warm yourself by the fire.”

Lifting the bamboo curtain at the main room’s entrance, she immediately felt the warmth of the house. The most eye-catching was the glowing red brazier in the center, atop which stood a delicate iron frame supporting a shiny black teapot, steam gently rising from beneath its lid. Just looking at it made one feel cozy.

“Since you’re here, why didn’t you bring your sister along as well?” Old Liu sat on an embroidered stool, pouring a bowl of hot tea for Manniang, smiling warmly.

“I just finished work and haven’t been home yet. You know our situation—this cold weather, no extra thick clothes at home. Even if I went back, I couldn’t bring her out. If she caught cold, we wouldn’t even have money to buy medicine,” Yang Manniang replied with a wry smile as she warmed herself by the fire.

She saw no need to hide anything; after all, their dire circumstances were no secret to anyone in the neighborhood.

“Yes, no one’s life is easy,” Old Liu said, her eyes flickering as she glanced at Manniang’s delicate face, replying politely. Secretly, she thought Yang Manniang looked different from usual.

Though she knew the Yang family’s hardships well, Manniang was only fourteen and had a shy nature, always careful not to reveal her family’s poverty—even when taking on laundry jobs, she found a respectable excuse.

Usually, if Manniang spoke like this, she would have fabricated a reason—saying the family had matters to attend to or that the cold outside was too harsh, promising to bring Panniang another day. She would never so openly admit having no warm clothes.

Still, since the subject was out in the open, Old Liu felt obliged to mention the laundry money.

But before that, she had to ask, as the delay in payment suggested she was waiting for Manniang to come by.

“Normally, I wouldn’t say this to a young girl like you, but given your family’s situation, there’s no one else suitable to talk to.”

“No matter, please say what you need to,” Manniang smiled. She disliked small talk; after a long day’s work, she just wanted to go home and rest. Straightforwardness was best.

“Well then, I’ll be blunt. You’re fourteen now, and when a girl reaches marrying age, it’s time to wed. Have you thought about finding a suitable family?” Old Liu smiled, studying Manniang’s delicate features.

“No,” Manniang shook her head, surprised by the topic. Marriage was hardly on her mind, given her age and circumstances. Besides, comfort was a prerequisite to desire.

Their empty home was no place for marriage plans. Until they solved their basic needs, she had no intention of considering such matters.

Her firm refusal caught Old Liu off guard. Though displeased, she patiently reasoned, “Listen, young lady, once you reach this age, you must marry. A woman’s youth is fleeting. If you don’t marry a good family while young, what will you do when you grow old? Besides, with a husband who loves you, life won’t be as hard as working daily in a tavern and washing clothes. The Li family is good—well-off, with a kind mother-in-law, three brothers, and a cart for hauling passengers. If you marry in, you’d be the eldest daughter-in-law, supporting the household. Don’t reject it outright; at least meet them. If it doesn’t work out, it’s no loss. You’d still get two bolts of silk, easing your family’s burdens.”

Old Liu wasn’t a professional matchmaker; her main income came from sewing and brokering laundry jobs, taking a cut. This matchmaking was on behalf of a longtime client who knew Yang Manniang well and hoped to earn a finder’s fee.

She bore no ill will and did not exaggerate. Compared to Manniang’s family, the Li household was indeed respectable.

“No need, thank you for thinking of me, but I truly have no intention to marry now.” Manniang was straightforward, knowing that vague answers only complicate matters.

Matchmaking was no simple meal; it required a formal ceremony with a table of delicacies, bride price, and, if successful, a gold hairpin from the groom’s family. If not, two bolts of silk were given as consolation.

For ordinary families struggling to make ends meet, such expenses were no small matter. If preparations were made and the match failed, it would be a wasted cost. Even if she accepted the silk, she would feel guilty.

Old Liu persisted, extolling Li Dalang’s virtues—honest, won’t beat his wife, diligent worker—but Manniang’s lips remained tightly sealed, refusing to respond.

Seeing this, Old Liu’s face fell, as if Manniang owed her a hundred strings of cash. Her earlier enthusiasm vanished.

Yang Manniang was unafraid. Everyone has the right to refuse, and she never feared displeasing others. She would not force herself to marry just to please an old woman’s smile.

Taking a long sip of hot tea, she smiled and gently urged, “Grandma, where’s my laundry money? We’re almost out of food and waiting for this to buy rice and salt!”

Seeing her stubbornness, Old Liu cursed silently, calling her an ungrateful girl. She must dream of marrying into a wealthy household!

Foolish delusions—this girl was destined to marry a foot-binding laborer and eat coarse rice gruel her whole life.

But despite her grumbling, she had to pay what was owed. After all, they lived in the same neighborhood. Even though the match failed, she could not afford to lose face and break ties immediately.

That would make her look petty and be a laughingstock.

Forcing a smile, Old Liu said, “Don’t worry, girl, I wouldn’t keep your money. It’s all wrapped up and here for you.”

In her heart, though, she thought, “Ungrateful brat. If she wants laundry work from me again, forget it!”

Yang Manniang was no fool; she caught the look on Old Liu’s face and understood.

Recently, a large family with two young daughters-in-law had moved into the front street, growing close to Old Liu, likely competing for the laundry jobs.

Though washing and laundry work was tough in winter, it was steady income. Even without Manniang and her sister, others willing to brave the cold would fill the demand.

But she did not mind; she only wanted what was rightfully hers.

After a day’s reflection, Yang Manniang had gained some certainty about her future and was not overly worried about losing the laundry work.