“Good, that boy is careless with things. I was afraid he’d forget,” she said.
Coffin Boy kept his head down eating.
In the small tea stall, apart from sounds from the stove, there was no other noise.
Soon all three finished eating, and Coffin Boy indeed paid.
“Next time I’ll treat you,” Qi Yue smiled.
Coffin Boy said nothing, bowed in farewell.
“Hey, Yuan Ziqing,” Qi Yue suddenly called out.
Yuan Ziqing was Coffin Boy’s real name, though few people used it, so much so that Coffin Boy himself almost forgot it.
His steps paused.
“You’re really timid,” Qi Yue shook her head. “Scared by just this? You don’t even dare enter Qianjin Hall’s gates anymore?”
Coffin Boy turned around.
“I’m not scared of this. I’m a…” he said, glaring.
“Unlucky person, right?” Qi Yue raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms and shaking her head. “Really, you’re not even as good as Yan’er.”
Along with Qi Yue’s advertisement for free cleft lip and palate treatment, Yan’er had become well-known as the spokesperson.
At first, Qi Yue worried the Liu family wouldn’t agree—after all, even now, children with cleft lips were still very sensitive about people knowing. But unexpectedly, shortly after returning to the Liu family, Yan’er came over as happily as before. She heard that back at the Liu family, Yan’er actively promoted and showed her mouth to people under Old Madam Liu’s protection. No one in the Liu family dared say a word against it. Not only couldn’t they speak, but if anyone showed even a slight expression toward Yan’er, Old Madam Liu would scold everyone in the Liu family from top to bottom. Given Old Madam Liu’s accumulated resentment over half a lifetime, there was probably still quite a while left of such scolding, especially after Old Madam Liu finally returned to her natal family and nearly died from crying at her deceased parents’ graves.
“You say you’re brave, but actually, dead people can’t cause harm. They can’t speak or do anything—what’s scary about that? Not being afraid of them doesn’t count as being brave,” Qi Yue continued. “Not being afraid of living people, not being afraid of social conventions—that’s truly being brave.”
Coffin Boy lifted his foot to step forward.
Granny Wang, gripping her ladle nervously, couldn’t help stamping her foot.
Coffin Boy stopped again.
“Remember to treat us next time,” he said, turning back. “Women who eat so much, more than I do—what a loss.”
He waved and strode away.
Qi Yue smiled with pursed lips.
“Stingy,” she clicked her tongue and gestured to A’Ru. “Let’s go, time for work.”
A’Ru smiled and followed.
The morning mist cleared and there were more people on the street, with various breakfast vendors’ calls filling the streets. But Granny Wang’s stall had no customers. She stood by the stove wiping tears with her apron.
“Granny Wang, what’s wrong? Were you beaten, scolded, or robbed?” a familiar neighbor asked. “Why are you crying like this so early in the morning?”
“Go away, what do you understand? I just want to cry,” Granny Wang said, waving at the person and indeed starting to cry again, covering her face with her apron.
Yuan Zi’s mother, did you see? Can you rest assured now?
“Thank you, Guanyin Bodhisattva,” Granny Wang slowly pressed her hands together in prayer, her body bending down devoutly, tears streaming down her face. “Forgive this old woman’s sin of harming life for greed back then.”