Chasing Jade (Zhu Yu)

For the next several days, Fan Changyu threw herself wholeheartedly into butchering pigs, preparing braised meats, and selling her products.

The braised offal from her shop was a complete sensory delight—aromatic, flavorful, and visually appealing. Though she had always given it away as a free giveaway, no other butcher shop on the entire street could compete with her business.

Some customers, unable to buy meat from her shop on the day, would rather wait until the next day to purchase from her. For several days in a row, Fan Changyu could sell out completely even after butchering two pigs in her shop.

Such booming business naturally made all the other butchers on the street green with envy. Guo Butcher, seeing all the customers flocking to Fan Changyu's shop, grew displeased again. Shamelessly, he loudly proclaimed that offering giveaways was an unnecessary burden on butcher shops and urged everyone to stop the practice.

While the others looked down on Guo Butcher's behavior, it was undeniable that Fan Changyu had drawn away the majority of customers with her giveaways. Though they didn't openly agree, they tacitly accepted Guo Butcher's suggestion.

Fan Changyu, ever good-natured, agreed that everyone would stop offering giveaways.

It wasn't that she was easily pushed around. By now, the reputation of "Fan's Braised Meat" had already spread far and wide. She no longer needed to rely on giveaways to attract customers. The offal she painstakingly cleaned and braised was worth twenty coins per pound—why give it away when she could sell it?

She might as well do them this favor, since they were all doing business on the same street and would inevitably cross paths.

The butchers on the street eagerly waited for business to return to how it was before. However, even after stopping the giveaways, while Fan Changyu's shop wasn't as bustling as before, it still remained the best on the entire street.

In fact, as the fame of her braised meats spread, people from the town stopped buying braised food from the street specializing in cooked dishes and made special trips to Fan Changyu's shop instead.

With so many customers coming for her braised meats, demand often outstripped supply. Fan Changyu eventually set up a large pot right outside her shop—selling the meats braised the previous night on the chopping board while simultaneously braising fresh batches in the pot.

This unplanned move unexpectedly took her braised meat business to new heights.

The aroma was simply irresistible. The braising broth bubbled vigorously in the pot, turning the cleaned pork head meat and offal into a beautiful soy-brown hue. The star anise, bay leaves, citrus peels, and other spices inside were clearly visible to all.

Not a single passerby in the market could resist approaching to inquire about the price after catching a whiff of that fragrance.

With the meats being braised right before customers' eyes and the pot filled with genuine ingredients, even the haggling became less intense compared to when she simply sold pre-cooked meats.

When she ran out of pork heads from her own butchered pigs, Fan Changyu would often buy a few more from neighboring butcher shops to avoid wasting the precious braising broth. She'd clean them on the spot and braise them immediately.

During peak business, her shop could sell seven or eight braised pork heads in a single day.

Fresh pork heads in the market sold for twenty coins per pound. After being turned into braised delicacies, the head and ears combined sold for about fifty coins per pound. A single pork head weighed around six to seven pounds, meaning each braised pork head netted her at least one hundred eighty coins in profit.

Selling seven or eight would earn her about one string and five hundred coins. Combined with the profit from fresh pork, her daily income stabilized at around two strings of coins.

As her money pouch grew steadily heavier, Fan Changyu decided to splurge one day and have new clothes made for everyone in the household.

She first went to the pawnshop to redeem the hairpin she had pawned. But the pawnbroker greeted her with an awkward smile: "That hairpin has already been sold..."

Fan Changyu immediately grew anxious: "Didn't I ask you to hold it for me?"The shopkeeper sighed helplessly, "Well... everyone who comes to pawn something in my shop says the same thing. How can I possibly keep items for all of them? I have a family to feed too!"

Fan Changyu pressed her lips together and apologized before asking, "Then do you remember who bought the hairpin?"

After some thought, the shopkeeper replied, "It was bought by a young lady on the very day you pawned it. She was dressed quite elegantly, seemed to be from the county town."

Changyu's heart sank to the depths.

Qingping County wasn't particularly large, but finding a complete stranger would still be difficult. Retrieving the hairpin seemed hopeless now.

Noticing her expression, the shopkeeper tried to promote other jewelry in his display: "How about this silver hairpin instead? The design is even prettier than yours!"

Without a word, Changyu left the pawnshop. Outside, the snowstorm raged. She sat on the steps for a while, unable to quell the ache in her chest.

Though she'd mentally prepared herself when pawning the silver hairpin that it might be lost forever, facing this reality still brought an unexpected wave of sorrow.

The hairpin her parents had given her for her coming-of-age ceremony—gone.

Wiping her eyes clumsily, Changyu trudged home with slumped shoulders.

Meanwhile, the western district alley buzzed with unusual activity—the Song family was moving.

Song Yan was the only scholar from Qingping County to pass the provincial exams this year. Even the county magistrate had invited him to dine, while local gentry and merchants vied to curry favor.

The magistrate had arranged a residence in town for Song Yan, publicly stating it was to provide better study conditions so he might pass the imperial exams and bring glory to the county.

With the new residence apparently ready, Song Yan and Mother Song had chosen today for their move.

Despite the feud between the Fan and Song families, other neighbors weren't willing to burn bridges with the family that had produced a provincial graduate. Many came out to see them off.

Approaching the alley entrance, Changyu spotted two stately blue-canopied carriages parked roadside. Further in, she saw the Song mother and son bidding farewell to neighbors at their doorstep.

Song Yan stood tall in his indigo robe, the very picture of scholarly grace as he bowed courteously to the well-wishers. His gentle features radiated bookish refinement.

Mother Song, dressed splendidly with oiled hair and golden hairpins, managed to squeeze out a few tears amid the flattery, pretending reluctance to leave.

In no mood for social niceties, Changyu pretended not to see them and skirted the crowd toward home. Then a cultured male voice called from behind, "Miss Fan, a moment please."

The crowd's expressions shifted curiously at this. Since the broken engagement, the two families had avoided contact. With Changyu already married to a live-in husband and Song Yan rumored to become the magistrate's ideal son-in-law, what business could they possibly have?

Speculations ran wild—some curious, some eager for drama, others hoping for juicy gossip.

Turning, Changyu saw Song Yan approaching with an ornate box, stopping three paces away. Every movement exuded scholarly refinement as he spoke: "My mother and I have lived here many years, much indebted to your late father's kindness. His generosity in providing a coffin during our hardship remains forever remembered in my heart. As we move today, please accept this small token of my gratitude."The brocade box was square, exquisitely crafted, and quite sizable—who knew what was inside?

Fan Changyu was nearly laughing in exasperation. Ever since the Song family had broken off the engagement, her Fan family had faced one hardship after another, while the Songs remained completely uninvolved. Now, on moving day, they produced this brocade box in front of all the neighbors—clearly just putting on a show for the crowd.

Her expression turned mocking. "What's this?"

Song Yan replied, "A small token of regard from my mother and myself."

With a backhanded swipe, Changyu sent the box crashing to the ground. Ingots of silver tumbled out, drawing gasps from the onlookers.

None in this alley were wealthy folk; many had likely never seen a silver ingot in their lives. The sight of that gleaming white silver was an eye-opener.

Mother Song immediately shrieked, "What do you think you're doing?"

She usually worked hard to maintain her air of an official's wife, and had been basking in flattery lately. To be publicly humiliated like this by Fan Changyu was more than just "embarrassing."

Though she now wore fine silks, decades of toil had left her gaunt and shriveled, her bony frame unable to fill out the luxurious garments. Her sunken cheeks and prominent cheekbones only accentuated her sharp, unkind features.

Changyu sneered, "Scholar Song's gift is far too generous—I wouldn't dare accept it. When you came with your fortune-teller's note to break the engagement, I didn't take a single coin from your family. Yet it was my father who bought Old Scholar Song's coffin, and later paid your tuition fees. And still, some busybodies twist the truth, claiming my father used petty favors to force Scholar Song into marrying a butcher's daughter."

She gave a cold laugh. "My parents' graves are still fresh—I won't stand for such slander."

Mother Song blustered, "What outsiders say has nothing to do with us!"

Changyu glanced at the scattered ingots, her lips curling. "I never said you put them up to it. Why so defensive?"

Unable to bear the provocation—and under the neighbors' watchful eyes—Mother Song flushed crimson. "What exactly are you implying?"

Changyu said, "To prevent further malicious gossip, let the neighbors bear witness today: I absolutely refuse Scholar Song's ingots. But with my parents gone, my frail younger sister, and my husband ill and injured, our family is in dire need of funds. So let's settle accounts: the money my father spent on your coffin and those years of tuition—repaying me in full shouldn't be difficult, should it?"

Her smile was laced with sarcasm. "That way, Scholar Song and Madam Song won't have to worry about our family trying to cash in on past favors. Like last time, when Fan Da brought loan sharks to smash up our house, and Auntie next door wept at your gate for help—yet your door remained shut."

Others might tiptoe around it, leaving the Songs some dignity, but Changyu had ripped off the veil. Mother Song's face was beyond "ugly"—she could feel the neighbors' silent scorn like a burning brand. Changyu might as well have pointed at her nose and called the Songs ungrateful.

Her Yan'er was destined to be a top scholar! If this vulgar butcher's daughter ruined his reputation and future, it would be the death of her!Mother Song was trembling, about to speak, when her silent son suddenly said to the butcher woman, "If you come looking for me, I won't remain indifferent."

"Yan'er!" Mother Song rolled her eyes, nearly fainting on the spot.

Fan Changyu also frowned, thinking to herself that Song Yan must have gone mad to say such things in public.

But before she could respond, a soft voice came from beyond the crowd: "Brother-in-law, there are so many people here!"

A man's cold voice replied, "Don't wander off."

Changyu turned to see her younger sister standing on tiptoe at their doorstep, peering curiously at the commotion. The man had likely followed to ensure the child didn't get lost in the crowd. His handsome brows were furrowed as if annoyed by the trouble of watching over her.

He wore the same russet-red robes from their wedding day, his long hair simply tied back. The wide sleeves concealed most of his single crutch. His features were sharp and cold, his complexion pale as snow.

Leaning casually against the doorframe, his posture was relaxed. It was unclear how long he'd been there or how much he'd heard of the exchange between Changyu and the Song mother and son.

When Changyu's gaze met his, his expression remained unreadable. The corners of his lips quirked slightly, though not quite into a smile.