Chapter 34: The Young Mistress Resolutely Weans the Child, Little Shen Kun Learns by Example

Upon returning home, Madam Shen went straight to the kitchen to reheat the dishes. Soon, she set several plates on the table. "Come quickly, boys," she called, "you must be starving after missing the banquet."

"Madam, my stomach’s been rumbling for ages!" Little Dragon replied without reserve.

"Mom, what dish is this?" Young Master Shen, ravenous, crowded around the table with Little Dragon and curiously pointed to a large bowl filled with a milky-white soup.

"Taste it and see," Madam Shen said with a smile. "It was a hit today. Before leaving, I specially asked Boss Song to make some for you."

Little Dragon scooped up a spoonful and slurped it down. At once, his face twisted in pain, alarming Young Master Shen. "Little Dragon, what’s wrong with you?"

"Young… Master, it’s scalding!" Little Dragon kept rolling the hot food around his mouth. Having learned from the mishap, Young Master Shen carefully blew on a small spoonful before tasting it, all under Madam Shen's gentle gaze.

"This is superb!" Young Master Shen was amazed. The tofu was sliced as finely as hair, a testament to the chef’s knife skills, but it was the taste that astonished him. The broth’s richness came from chicken stock and the irresistible aroma of lard. Little Dragon had burnt himself in his haste, deceived by the sheen of lard floating atop the dish.

Once he recovered, Little Dragon asked, curling his tongue, "Madam, what is this dish called?"

"Pingqiao Tofu," clever Xiao Ling announced, revealing the answer.

"Pingqiao Tofu, what a marvelous dish," praised Young Master Shen. "No wonder the guests were so delighted today."

The young madam fastened her blouse buttons. Her milk had been plentiful, but now that Kun’er had nursed, she felt much better. Listening to the conversation between mother and daughter, she set Kun’er down. "Go and play, Kun’er."

Watching her son, Shen Kun, grow day by day, the young madam resolved to wean him starting tomorrow. Since childhood, she had heard her father recount a story from the days when her grandfather, a physician, was still alive. Once, while gathering rare herbs on a mountain cliff, grandfather witnessed a hawk soaring in the blue sky, its wings stretched wide and powerful. Although he had seen hawks before, this one was peculiar. It landed on the cliff’s edge and set down two fledglings. To his astonishment, the next moment, the mother hawk mercilessly pushed both chicks off the precipice. Grandfather stood rooted in shock.

The fledglings couldn’t fly at all; they gazed up in despair at their mother, their cries echoing through the ravine. Grandfather's heart went out to them. Just as he was certain they were doomed, one of the chicks, flapping its undeveloped wings, struggled against the mountain winds—once, twice—and, miraculously, managed to soar back up to the cliff.

The other disappeared from sight. At first, grandfather thought the hawk’s heart was cruel, but then he wondered: was she wrong? In the law of the jungle, it is always survival of the fittest; the weak are eliminated, just like the second chick.

Thinking of this, the young madam’s resolve hardened. In her heart, she said, "Kun’er, don’t blame your mother for being heartless. For the sake of your bright future, I must wean you tomorrow. Even the hawk understands this truth—how much more so should we humans?"

Madam Shen, hearing the commotion, hurried over to her grandson. Seeing her, Kun’er toddled toward her. She bent down, clapping her hands, her eyes overflowing with love. "Come here, come to Grandma."

Laughter and joy echoed through the Shen household. Meanwhile, the ancient town of Hexia had settled into a rare peace. After a morning of toil, the townsfolk had eaten and were now resting.

Master Shen was snoring thunderously in the Clear Water Bathhouse. The bathhouse, open to all, welcomed people from every walk of life. Those accustomed to drifting between the pleasures of food and bath found nothing surprising here.

From time to time, laughter burst out in the bathhouse. In one corner, a few streetwise fellows were playing Pai Gow, gambling with the shrewdness of monkeys.

The afternoon slipped by unnoticed. After the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn, Master Shen was roused by the attendant’s call. "Master Shen, wake up!"

"Hmm? What is it?" Slowly, Master Shen awakened, sensing someone nudging him.

"Master Shen, you told me to wake you—you said you had business this afternoon."

"Ah, yes, thank you. Here, this is for you." Master Shen tossed half a green radish to the back scrubber.

"Thank you, Master Shen!"

With a cup of Longjing tea, neither too hot nor too cold, Master Shen sipped contentedly. He never cared for overly hot things, not even his meals.

Soon the back-scrubbing lad returned. "The usual, Master Shen? How about a massage?"

"Yes, I’m truly tired today," he replied, lying face down on the bamboo bed.

Master Chen began with a head massage to relax and relieve fatigue. After this simple start, he wrapped a clean towel around his right hand, turning it three times, then slapped his hands together—the massage had begun in earnest.

Master Chen’s hands worked deftly, sometimes fluttering up and down, sometimes lightly tapping, moving steadily down Master Shen’s back. Master Shen’s expressions were entertaining: at one moment, blissful enjoyment; the next, a grimace of pain.

Following the tradition of Yangzhou massage, after scrubbing came a round of rhythmic tapping for health. The crisp, percussive sounds echoed through the bathhouse, interweaving with the taps from across the room. It was like the symphony of Hexia’s street life, reverberating through the ancient town’s deep alleys.

"Splendid, simply splendid. You truly have skill," Master Shen declared, feeling more invigorated than before.

"Master Shen, this is my family’s livelihood—everyone must master the basics. Wrapping towels, back tapping—in Yangzhou, we practice on bricks and marble, pounding until our knuckles bleed, from morning till night. You have to get the joints to crack, not just make empty noise. That’s how Yangzhou tapping should sound; we train for a whole month at least."

To find out what happens next, stay tuned for the following chapter.