Fulang’s Little Inn C6

Chapter 6

Over the next few days on the road, Lu Ling handled the driving while Shu Rui focused on soliciting passengers. They picked up a few scattered travelers along the way, earning two or three copper coins per ride. It wasn’t a fortune, but it made the effort worthwhile—enough to cover their dry rations and the donkey’s fodder.

Ten days later, just before noon, Shu Rui finally brought an almost month-long journey to an end and arrived at Chaoxi Prefecture.

Travelers on the road were dusty and worn, yet the prefectural city itself was prosperous and orderly. Fine horses and perfumed carriages passed by in steady streams, the streets bustling with life.

Seated on the donkey cart, Shu Rui took it all in at a leisurely glance. Returning once more to the place where he had lived as a child, he felt both familiarity and estrangement. Back then, Chaoxi Prefecture had already seemed lively enough; now, more than ten years later, shops lined the streets in dense rows, alleys crisscrossed in every direction, and though the old outlines remained, everything seemed even more flourishing than before.

Only his parents and elders were no longer among the living.

A thousand emotions stirred in Shu Rui’s chest. Over the years, he had learned to rely on himself in all things, and gradually he had thought of his parents less and less. Yet now, standing here again, that longing buried deep in his heart was like a jar of aged wine knocked over—its fragrance spilling out, impossible to contain. His thoughts churned, and his mood plunged without warning.

At that moment, Lu Ling slowed the cart. “We’ve entered the city—why don’t you look happy?”

Shu Rui gathered his thoughts and put on a casual front. “I’m not unhappy. I’m just not used to seeing things this lively all of a sudden.”

Lu Ling fell silent for a beat, then asked, “Do you need the latrine?”

“………”

“I told you not to drink unboiled stream water, but you wouldn’t listen.”

Shu Rui couldn’t help snapping back at him, then added, “You go. I’ll stay here—”

He was about to say he would wait there when he noticed constables patrolling the street ahead, forbidding carts from stopping at will. To find a proper place to park the donkey cart would cost more copper coins.

“How about I go on first?” Shu Rui suggested. “When you’re done, come find me. I’ll be at the fifth shop on Ten-Li Street. Can you locate it?”

Lu Ling jumped down briskly. “I can.”

He took a few steps away, then suddenly turned back, narrowing his eyes at Shu Rui. “A-Shao, even if you run, I’ll still find you.”

Shu Rui shot him a look, tugged the donkey forward, and headed toward the shop without bothering to respond.

This foolish-looking fellow seemed honest enough, yet in truth he was sly as could be.

A few days earlier, while traveling, the two of them had argued again at an inn over whether they were husband and wife. Shu Rui had been so angry that he’d driven off with the donkey cart while Lu Ling went to the latrine. Who would have thought Lu Ling could run faster than the donkey? Somehow he overtook the cart, hid silently in a tree, and then leapt down onto it as Shu Rui passed—scaring him so badly he nearly overturned the cart again.

Fuming as he recalled those incidents, Shu Rui arrived at his destination before he realized it.

The shop left behind by his Uncle Ji and Aunt Ji was located on a side street off North Street, one of the prefectural city’s four main thoroughfares. At the entrance stood a tall marble archway, weathered by years of wind and rain. Moss clung to its surface, dark streaks of water stains ran down its sides, yet the three large characters “Ten-Li Street” carved into it remained perfectly clear.

The shop lay not far from the archway—facing the street, the fifth storefront on the left.

It was Shu Rui’s first time here. He looked at the shop twice in disbelief, then swept his gaze over the street again. Only after confirming that this was indeed the location he had memorized in his heart did he stop the cart by the roadside.

The dilapidated shop, secured with an iron lock, now had an offal soup stall set up directly in front of it. A stove pressed against the wall burned steadily, the pot atop it boiling vigorously. Thick white steam rose with a pungent, gamey stench that rushed straight toward the beams overhead. It was impossible to tell how long business had been done here—the wall behind the stove was scorched black, as if embers had rolled against it unnoticed.

There wasn’t much business at the moment. An old man with yellowed teeth lounged on a low stool, legs crossed, picking at his teeth. Sharp-eyed, he immediately spotted Shu Rui looking over and tossed aside his toothpick to greet him.

“Brother, we’ve got sheep offal and pork offal here—have a bowl of soup! It’s fragrant!”

Before Shu Rui could respond, the man grabbed a large bowl sitting openly on the stall, scooped half a ladle of soup into it, and held the bowl with his thumb dipped right into the broth, not caring in the least.

“Try it—fresh and tasty.”

Shu Rui stepped closer but didn’t take the bowl.

The area in front of the shop was slick with grime; the wall looked as though it had been lacquered with filth, smeared with refuse that could only have come from offal. It looked even more wretched than the shop’s own decay.

The shop hadn’t been run for over ten years. Vendors setting up stalls here was understandable—the location wasn’t prime, but it wasn’t deserted either, and using the spot cost nothing. Still, this vendor was far too careless about cleanliness. The place hadn’t been fouled like this in just a day or two.

Since he had been operating here long-term, even if it wasn’t his own land, basic cleaning was only right—especially when selling food.

Newly arrived and unwilling to make enemies, Shu Rui spoke politely. “Good business to you, sir. Please move your stall. This shop will be reopening, and skinny as I am, I can’t even get in or out as things stand.”

The old man frowned, pulling back the bowl. “The shop’s opening?”

He looked Shu Rui up and down, then broke into a grin. “Don’t fool me, boy. I live in the alley behind this street. This shop hasn’t opened in over ten years—the owner’s grave must be overgrown by now. Why would anyone come reclaim it on such a sunny day?”

Tilting his head back, he gulped down the soup he’d just ladled, smacking his lips with satisfaction, then cocked his head at Shu Rui. “You’ve got your eye on this good spot, haven’t you? Want to drive me off so you can use it for free?”

Shu Rui’s expression darkened slightly. Without another word, he took out the shop deed. “At your age, sir, it’d be wise to keep some virtue on your tongue.”

The old man lazily glanced up, then his eyes lit up at the sight of the deed. “This shop is really yours?”

“Who’d bother forging papers for a rundown place like this?”

Shu Rui put the document away. “Please move aside so I can go in.”

The old man exclaimed and immediately plastered on a smile. “Ah, my mouth runs ahead of my sense. You’re so young and already own a big shop—impressive indeed. I’m ignorant; I thought someone was teasing me.”

He followed with flattery. “You never came to check on it all these years, and it’d be a shame to let a good shop fall apart. So I did a little business here, kept the place lively for you.”

Then he added, “I’ll just move the stall a bit to the side—won’t block you at all. From now on, it’ll be lively and bustling.”

As he started moving the stall, Shu Rui understood perfectly: the man meant to keep using the space for free. Thinking Shu Rui young and easy to bully, he was shamelessly trying to take advantage.

If Shu Rui backed down now, the neighbors would all take him for soft prey.

He raised his voice at once. “If you don’t mind dust and ash dirtying a pot of good soup while I clean up the shop, then pay the going rate for the space. That way everyone stays on good terms.”

“Stall fees are usually one upfront and three after—four total. Pay now or later? Let’s settle it cleanly.”

The old man froze, thinking this boy had a sharp tongue indeed. Still, he played the pitiful card, lowering his voice. “Brother, I’m poor. My children aren’t married yet—we’re all relying on this bowl of rice. You’re wealthy and generous; spare a little and leave me a way to live.”

Shu Rui smiled. He’d long stopped falling for such sob stories.

“Fine. We’re all poor souls. I’ll give you one day. Go check other stalls. If you bring the money tomorrow, I’ll agree. If not, I can’t keep this spot for you.”

Seeing no pity, the old man grew angry. He dropped the act and scolded, “You’re so young and already money-grubbing! Every word is about money—no human feeling at all! Does your family lend at usury or something?”

Shu Rui replied calmly, “You’re angry one moment and sweet the next—I’m getting dizzy watching. With your talents, why waste them at a soup stall? Go perform on stage; people would pay to watch.”

“You—!”

Speechless, chest heaving, the old man plopped back onto his stool, sulking. “I’ve done business here so long—regulars know this spot. If I leave, they’ll still come here. I’m bringing you customers! If you won’t show me kindness, then pay me!”

Seeing he’d turned shameless, Shu Rui knew words alone wouldn’t work.

He glanced at the donkey nearby, tail swishing at flies, mouth foamed white from the long journey and not yet cleaned, already giving off a foul smell. An idea sparked.

He led the donkey over, tied it to a locust tree in front of the shop, and ignored the old man while checking the rusted lock.

The old man snorted and closed his eyes to nap, intending to keep doing business even if Shu Rui went inside.

Moments later, the donkey not only blocked the stall but, attracting flies with its stench, lifted its tail and dropped a pile of dung right in front of the stove.

Even a careless vendor selling food couldn’t ignore that. Anyone seeing excrement out front would detour—who’d dare eat soup here?

The old man jumped up. “Hey! Your donkey took a dump!”

Shu Rui glanced over lazily. “Don’t mind it. People have urges; so do animals. I’ll clean it later—right in front of my own door. No harm.”

“How can you be so filthy!” the old man cried, pinching his nose. “So young and already unclean—and ugly to boot! Who’d marry you!”

“That’s fair,” Shu Rui nodded. “Didn’t you say you have an unmarried son? How old is he? If suitable, I could go take a look.”

“Dream on!” the old man spat, cursing as he pushed his stall away, fuming. Before leaving, he tried to bark a threat—“Just you wait, opening a shop here, I’ll—”

Before he could finish, someone grabbed his collar and lifted him clean off the ground.

“Hey! Hey!”

His feet dangled, terror-stricken. “Which lord is this? Please put me down—let’s talk!”

Seeing Lu Ling’s cold expression, Shu Rui worried he might actually strike. The old man’s bones wouldn’t take it, and that would only invite extortion.

“Put him down,” Shu Rui said. “Holding him like that doesn’t hurt him—and you’ll just tire your arm.”

Lu Ling released him reluctantly.

The old man collapsed, legs trembling, finally seeing it was a young man—lean but straight-backed, with a blade at his waist. He barely dared breathe.

Shu Rui stepped closer. “Sir, should I ask my cousin here to help push your cart home?”

The old man had learned his lesson. “No need—no need! You’re busy!”

He fled at once, pushing his cart like his life depended on it.

Shu Rui clapped his hands, watching him disappear. Truly, unreasonable people grew everywhere.

Lu Ling frowned, annoyed he hadn’t come earlier and let Shu Rui be bullied.

“You didn’t need to waste so many words. You could’ve waited for me to handle it.”

Shu Rui smiled. He appreciated the concern, but he didn’t want to grow dependent on others. Now that he’d come to Chaoxi Prefecture, everything ahead would rest on his own shoulders.

If he relied on others whenever trouble arose, he might as well have stayed and married obediently into the Bai family—why struggle out here at all?

Though he and Lu Ling had traveled together for over ten days and gotten along well, and though Lu Ling firmly believed they were husband and wife and treated him with devotion, Shu Rui never forgot they were only chance companions.

Once he checked the shop, he would ask around for the famed acupuncture doctor to treat Lu Ling. When his memory returned, compensation would be paid, and then—roads wide under heaven—they would part ways.

He didn’t voice these thoughts, only said, “He’s gone. Doesn’t matter who chased him off. Come on—let’s go inside and take a look.”