Chapter 6: Mediating a Quarrel
In the natural order of things, everything has its counterpart—where there is yin, there is yang; where there is bitterness, there is sweetness. If there is a Golden House, there must also be an Alley of Fallen Sun. While the eastern streets bustle with prosperity, the western streets lie in desolate decay.
The festive atmosphere of the New Year seemed to have no effect here. The residents of the western streets hurried along in thin coats, their faces etched with indifference and numbness. With pressing concerns of food and clothing, the holiday seemed trivial. Only the simple red paper couplets pasted on a few doorways and the aged lanterns hanging overhead hinted at the season.
A group of children sat in front of a cosmetic shop, playing with buttons they had scavenged. Occasionally, they lifted their grimy faces to glance curiously at Jiang Ruan and her two maids before turning back to their makeshift toys.
A vendor selling plum blossoms caught sight of them and eagerly called out, "Lovely red plum blossoms, miss! Would you like one? They’d look splendid in your room—and they’re fragrant too!"
"How much for the plum blossoms?" Lianqiao asked.
The vendor stretched out his palm. "Not expensive—just five coppers."
"That’s too much!" Lianqiao exclaimed. "Never mind."
"Wait, wait!" the vendor hastily said. "Fine, three coppers then. Can’t go any lower—my children are waiting for a warm meal at home."
As Lianqiao prepared to haggle further, Jiang Ruan spoke up, "I’ll take all the remaining ones."
Zisu was taken aback. "Miss, our funds are tight right now..."
Jiang Ruan shook her head. "Do as I say. These flowers will be useful."
Zisu said no more and poured out most of the coppers from her cloth pouch to pay the vendor. The man, surprised by the sudden sale—since the western streets were usually frequented by the poor who wouldn’t spend money on flowers—handed the earthen vase holding the blossoms to Lianqiao. "It’s the New Year—may the young lady have good fortune. Consider the vase a gift." With that, he packed up and left.
Clutching the vase, Lianqiao couldn’t help asking, "What do you need so many plum blossoms for, miss? They’re pretty, but they’ll wither in a few days. Wouldn’t it be better to buy a few spring pancakes instead?"
"These aren’t for looking at," Jiang Ruan said as she walked ahead. "They’re for giving away."
"Giving away?" Lianqiao looked at her curiously. "To whom?"
Jiang Ruan didn’t answer. As they walked, they soon arrived at the western street’s market.
The market was the liveliest—and most chaotic—place in the western streets, where people of all sorts mingled. Here, nothing was surprising, and the most common occurrence was having one’s belongings stolen by pickpockets.
Just as the three reached the market entrance, they saw a large crowd gathered in tight circles, voices rising in argument. Seeing Jiang Ruan pause, Lianqiao whispered to Zisu, and the two squeezed through the crowd to clear a narrow path for her.The three of them had just entered the crowd when they clearly saw the scene unfolding before them. In the center stood two people in confrontation—one was an elderly man with completely white hair and beard, his face flushed red with rage, veins bulging, utterly furious. The other was a little girl of about seven or eight, her head bowed and eyes brimming with tears.
Lianqiao patted someone nearby on the shoulder, whispered a few words, then turned to Jiang Ruan and said, "It turns out the old man accused the little girl of stealing his silver. The girl insists she didn’t take it and started crying in distress."
The little girl, surrounded by the crowd, was deathly pale, clutching a silver ingot tightly in her hand, her wide eyes filled with helplessness and fragility. Meanwhile, the furious old man, dressed in a worn-out brown linen-padded robe, had a beard trembling with anger as he bellowed at the girl, "You little brat, already stealing at such a young age! What terrible upbringing!"
Someone couldn’t stand it and spoke up, "Old man, there’s no need to be so harsh. Bullying a little girl like this—have you lived all these years just to pick on those weaker than you? Shame on you!"
"You—" The old man was so angry he couldn’t speak.
"And how can you even prove she stole your silver?" the person pressed on relentlessly. "A seven- or eight-year-old girl managed to steal from you? Were you careless, or is she some kind of prodigy? Tsk, maybe you’re the one trying to swindle her out of her silver!"
As soon as these words were spoken, the crowd immediately chimed in: "Yeah, yeah, how could such a little girl possibly steal anything?"
"Couldn’t even come up with a believable lie."
"He must be trying to cheat the girl out of her money!"
The murmurs grew louder, with everyone unanimously turning against the old man as if he were the real culprit. His beard quivered with rage, his face so red it seemed about to drip blood, yet he couldn’t utter a single word—only trembling lips and ragged breaths.
"How pitiful," Lianqiao sighed.
Jiang Ruan glanced at her. "Do you also think he’s trying to swindle her?"
"Of course not," Lianqiao said. "He might fool others, but not me. Back in the countryside, I’ve seen plenty of these sly little girls—she’s clearly the one lying. Right, Zisu?"
Zisu gave a slight nod.
Lianqiao added, "The old man’s just unlucky today. Poor thing."
A strange glint flickered in Jiang Ruan’s eyes.
In truth, just as Lianqiao had said, the little girl’s deception wasn’t particularly clever. There were certainly people in the crowd who could see through her act. But West Street, being a gathering place for the poor, had a strong sense of exclusivity—an instinctive distrust of outsiders. To them, the old man was nothing more than a stranger, and strangers were to be suppressed. So today, the little girl was bound to win, and the old man was doomed to be branded a swindler.
What, then, could she do?
Jiang Ruan paused, then gently pushed aside Zisu, who had been shielding her.
Zisu startled and quickly tried to stop her. "Miss, you mustn’t! It’s best we don’t get involved in this."What truly matters is not the truth, but the attitudes of those around. Even if their own young lady stepped forward to mediate, she would merely be attacked as an ungrateful outsider along with the others. The old man could let it go—it was just a matter of losing face—but their young lady was a noble-born daughter of the house. Even if she was currently confined to the estate, her status remained unchanged.
Jiang Ruan shook her head lightly. "Zisu, step aside."
Zisu froze, but Jiang Ruan had already taken a few steps forward, revealing herself to the crowd.
She spoke softly, "There’s no need for such distress, venerable sir. The world has its rights and wrongs, and though they may not be clear at the moment, the truth will always come to light. Why harm your own health over a moment of anger? Isn’t that a loss greater than the gain?"
(End of Chapter)
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