Volume One, Chapter 14: The Old Lady’s Acting Mastery Revealed

Unlike the lively scene where Xiao Ning was bantering with Brother Fu at the market, Old Madam Yu’s steps were heavy and hurried.

She turned with practiced familiarity into a relatively secluded alley and stopped in front of a shop with a black lacquered signboard that read “Tongbao Pawnshop.” Her clouded eyes scanned the cold sign. Taking a deep breath, she brushed aside the stray strands of her graying hair and carefully smoothed out the faded, heavily patched coarse cloth of her worn clothes, trying to lend them a semblance of dignity.

Pushing open the door, a musty scent of aged wood mixed with mildew greeted her. Behind the counter, a shopkeeper dressed in a silk robe, sporting a goatee, was leisurely moving the beads of an abacus without even lifting his eyelids.

Old Madam Yu approached the counter cautiously and pulled from her bosom a roughly wrapped coarse cloth bundle. Layer by layer, she unwrapped it, revealing a pair of gold and jade bracelets that still shimmered with a warm luster even in the dim light.

Only then did the shopkeeper raise his eyes to glance at them. He stretched out two withered fingers, picked up one bracelet, casually inspected it against the faint light streaming through the door, weighed it in his hand, and emitted a nearly inaudible snort.

“Pledged dead or alive?” His voice was dry and devoid of warmth.

“Alive! Alive!” Old Madam Yu hurriedly replied, her voice trembling faintly. “Shopkeeper, please be kind and offer a good price. These are heirlooms passed down from my mother-in-law…”

“Heirlooms?” The shopkeeper sneered, cutting her off. “With this quality and weight, it’s worth at most… eight taels of silver.”

“Eight taels?!” Her voice shot up abruptly, quivering with tears. “Shopkeeper! Take another look! This is pure gold inlaid with jade! When my mother-in-law passed it down, it was worth at least twenty taels! Please, just ten taels! Ten taels will do! We urgently need the money to save our lives!” Her bony fingers gripped the edge of the counter so tightly that her knuckles whitened.

But the shopkeeper remained unmoved. He placed the bracelet back on the cloth and drawled, “Madam, gold prices have fallen, and the jade isn’t even good quality. Eight taels—take it or leave it.”

Despair flooded Old Madam Yu like a cold tide, instantly overwhelming her. She stared at the indifferent face of the shopkeeper, then at the bracelets resting on the counter that bore the weight of her lifetime’s memories. A surge of grief, indignation, and humiliation rose fiercely within her.

“Heavens above!” she suddenly let out a piercing wail, her body going limp as if her bones had been drained of strength. She pounded the cold counter with both hands, tears streaming down her clouded face. “You black-hearted wretches! Bullying an old woman like me! My husband died young, and I’ve drained our savings raising two sons to study! Now you’re trying to kill us all! Ten taels! Just ten! Not a single coin less, and I’ll dash my head against your door today! Let your shop be cursed with bad luck!”

She cried with heartbreaking intensity, tears mingling with snot, throwing herself into a pitiful tantrum, utterly abandoning any shred of dignity. The years of accumulated grievances, bitterness, and despair poured out like a dam breaking.

The shopkeeper was startled by this sudden outburst, and the few assistants nearby exchanged uneasy glances. Seeing the old woman’s desperate madness, he furrowed his brows but finally waved his hand impatiently.

“Enough! Stop that howling! Bad luck! Nine taels! Nine taels of silver! Not a cent more!”

Old Madam Yu’s crying stopped abruptly. She raised her tear-filled eyes and fixed the shopkeeper with a desperate gaze. “Nine and a half taels! Shopkeeper, please add half a tael! I beg you! Just half a tael!” Her voice was hoarse, filled with a final plea.

The shopkeeper scowled in disgust and waved his hand like shooing flies. “Take it, take it! Nine and a half taels! Hurry up and sign the receipt!”

When the thin, rough contract paper bearing the inscription “One pair of gold and jade bracelets, alive pledge, valued at nine and a half taels of silver” and a small heavy pouch of broken silver were handed to Old Madam Yu, she felt as if all her strength had been drained away. Trembling hands clutched the receipt and the silver close to her chest, as if holding the fate of her entire family.

The bracelets on the counter reflected a cold gleam in the dim light. Old Madam Yu gave them one last look, her expression too complex for words—nostalgia, reluctance, but above all a numb resolve.

A dignity worth nothing… so be it.

She turned and staggered out of the pawnshop. The glaring sun made her squint. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her slightly stooped back and wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve, trying to erase the humiliating scene from her mind.

At least… at least this money would spare her two eldest sons from the deadly corvée, allowing them to focus on their imperial exams. This time… perhaps they might pass! That hope was the sole pillar sustaining her forward.

Passing a bustling steamed bun shop at the corner, the rich aroma of meat boldly invaded her nostrils. Her stomach growled uncontrollably. She hesitated, looking at the plump, steaming meat buns, swallowing hard.

“Shopkeeper, three meat buns, please.” Her voice was dry.

“Right away!” The assistant quickly wrapped three large meat buns in greaseproof paper and handed them over.

Old Madam Yu carefully tucked the buns into her bosom, pressing them against her heart. The warmth seeped through the thin coarse cloth, offering a faint, deceptive comfort. She glanced at the plain steamed buns sold for a single coin but averted her gaze, swallowing the burning hunger and quickening her pace toward the city gate rendezvous.

Beside the donkey cart, Grandpa Lao had sold out all the eggs and fish and was now sitting on the cart’s tongue, puffing on a dry tobacco pipe. Xiao Ning sat obediently nearby. Spotting his grandmother, he immediately jumped down to greet her.

“Grandmother!” He ran up and steadied her unsteady arm.

Old Madam Yu’s taut nerves relaxed slightly at the sight of her little grandson. Climbing aboard the donkey cart, her first words were, “Ning, were you good today? Didn’t cause any trouble for your uncle?”

“Very good!” Grandpa Lao chuckled in reply. “The boy’s sensible. He just watched nearby and didn’t run around.”

At these words, a rare smile of relief flickered across Old Madam Yu’s face. As if recalling something, she pulled out the greaseproof paper bundle from her bosom and opened it, revealing three plump, fragrant meat buns. She picked one up and held it out to Xiao Ning.

“Here, your uncle says you’ve been good, so grandmother rewards you with a meat bun.”

Xiao Ning looked at the bun in front of him, then up at his grandmother. Despite her efforts to hide it, he keenly noticed the lingering redness at her eyes' corners and the exhaustion and heaviness buried deep within her gaze, almost spilling over.

His heart tightened, and he immediately put on an expression of delight. With both hands, he accepted the bun and exclaimed brightly, “Thank you, grandmother!” Then, unable to wait, he bit deeply into the bun, chewing exaggeratedly and mumbling, “Delicious! Really delicious! Grandmother, you should eat some too!” He offered the bitten bun toward her lips.

Old Madam Yu watched her grandson devour the bun greedily, oil smearing his mouth. Looking at the bun pressed to her lips, the fragile strength she had mustered nearly broke again. She turned her head slightly and took a symbolic nibble, chewing slowly. At last, a weary, tender smile graced her face—real and heartfelt.

“Grandmother’s eaten already. You’re such a good boy, you eat it.”

The two of them shared that single meat bun together on the swaying donkey cart. Xiao Ning ate with relish, while Old Madam Yu watched quietly, as if the long trail of humiliation and exhaustion had been softened, just a little, by this small moment of warmth.