Becoming an immortal from a canal worker

Chapter 183: The Atmosphere of Everyday Life

The next morning.

Chen Ping left Cangwu and walked along the bluestone road towards the Bai family in the east of the city.

When they arrived at the Bai family's gate, the courtyard was quiet and there were hardly any people around.

A sharp-eyed maid carrying a copper basin walked past under the eaves.

Seeing Chen Ping's tall figure step over the threshold, he quickly put down the basin of water in his hand and respectfully bowed.

"Young Master Chen, you have emerged from seclusion."

Chen Ping nodded slightly and casually asked, "Where is Master Bai?"

The maid replied truthfully, "Young master, the master and young master have been busy at the newly opened headquarters of the Chamber of Commerce in the south of the city for the past two weeks. They set off early every morning and usually don't return until it's almost dark when the city gates are locked."

Chen Ping understood.

He knew about the Bai family establishing the Huai River Chamber of Commerce; Bai Ming had even sent someone to tell him about it on the day the sign was unveiled.

I was focused on a crucial stage of my cultivation at that time and couldn't afford to be distracted, so I hadn't had a chance to check on it. Now that I'm out for some fresh air today, I should go and take a look.

After leaving the Bai family's residence, he didn't head straight for the south of the city. Instead, he slowed down and walked south along the street.

Come to think of it, he's been in Tianyan City for so long, but he hasn't really had a proper chance to explore it.

The south side of the city is the most bustling area of ​​Tianyan City.

The street was twice as wide as the one in the east of the city, and the bluestone pavement was polished to a shine by wheels and feet.

Shops lined both sides of the street, one after another: cloth shops, grain shops, pharmacies, blacksmith shops, restaurants, and teahouses. Their signs and banners hung densely, and colorful cloth banners fluttered in the wind.

There were quite a few people on the street.

The peddler carrying his load squeezed through the crowd, shouting as he went. Several women squatted in front of the vegetable stall, picking through the greens, their voices sharp and grating as they haggled over prices.

A bullock cart slowly rolled through the middle of the street, with several bundles of firewood piled on it. The old man driving the cart had a pipe in his mouth and was dozing off with his eyes half-closed.

At the corner, in front of a teahouse, several old men were drinking tea and playing chess around a low table, arguing heatedly over a single move.

Fireworks.

Chen Ping walked slowly down the street, glancing left and right. However, he noticed that the way pedestrians looked at him would subtly change.

First, I noticed his imposing uniform, then his towering figure, which was significantly larger than average. I then subtly stepped aside, keeping a few steps between us.

Chen Ping didn't care at all.

A burst of thick, hot steam, carrying the enticing aroma of scallions and minced meat, suddenly wafted over from a corner of the street.

Chen Ping paused, following the scent.

A simple shed stood by the street, with two large steamers underneath. White steam rose from the gaps in the steamers, making the oilcloth on the shed roof damp.

Behind the shed stood a middle-aged man, around forty years old, with a round face, wearing a faded apron, his hands still damp with flour, using long chopsticks to rummage through the steamer basket.

Seeing Chen Ping approach, the middle-aged man looked up, his eyes lighting up. He rubbed the flour on his hands and greeted him warmly, "Sir, these are freshly steamed meat buns, still piping hot! Would you like a few to tide you over?"

Chen Ping walked to the front of the shed, looked down at the plump white buns in the steamer, each pleat neatly pinched, steaming hot.

It does smell delicious.

"What kind of fillings do they have?"

The middle-aged man lifted another steamer basket and pointed with his chopsticks: "This side has pork and cabbage, this side has beef and radish, and those small ones in the corner are red bean paste, they're sweet." He then pointed to the bottom layer: "This layer has mutton and scallion, the flavor is stronger, but there's plenty of filling, every bite is all meat."

Chen Ping simply said, "The mutton and scallion one, give me one to try."

The middle-aged man responded, picked one up with his chopsticks, placed it on the oil paper, and handed it over.

Chen Ping took it and took a bite.

The skin was thin, the filling was generous, and the muttony smell was mostly masked by the scallions. The meat juices burst in his mouth, making him squint because of the heat.

I chewed it and swallowed it.

These steamed buns taste really good, very honest.

He reached into his pocket, ready to pay.

Everything his fingers touched was silver.

The silver pieces, in various sizes, were heavy.

He touched it again and flipped it over.

He didn't have a single copper coin. Every time he went out, Bai Ming would have his servants slip some silver into his pocket.

Over time, he always had silver on him, but not a single copper coin left.

Chen Ping shook his head helplessly.

He randomly picked out the smallest piece from the pile of broken silver, estimating it to be a little over an ounce.

It was casually placed on the cutting board covered in flour.

The middle-aged man looked down at the piece of silver and swallowed hard.

"Sir, it's just a few steamed buns, you don't need so many." He rubbed his hands together and said with a wry smile, "Besides, even if you give them to me, I won't have change."

Chen Ping looked at the silver coin on the cutting board, then at the steamed bun in his hand, and thought for a moment.

"I'll leave this silver in your shop's account for now, and when I stop by to eat next time, I can deduct the amount from this account gradually."

He took a bite of the bun and mumbled, "I don't have any coins on me."

The middle-aged man stared at the piece of silver on the cutting board for a moment, then wiped the flour off his hands, carefully picked up the silver, wrapped it in the corner of his apron, and put it in his pocket.

He looked up, his smile a little stiff: "Sir, when will you come next time? What kind of filling would you like? I'll prepare it for you in advance." Chen Ping shook his head, took a bite of the bun, and said, "No need, I'll eat whenever you come."

He stuffed the last bite into his mouth, chewed it, swallowed it, and wiped his mouth.

"If I don't come again, consider it a reward."

He thought for a moment, then pointed to the steamed buns in the steamer: "Give me a few more, and wrap them up."

The middle-aged man responded and quickly picked up six buns, wrapped them in layers of oil paper, and handed them to Chen Ping.

"Sir, please take this carefully, be careful not to catch a cold in the wind on the way."

Chen Ping took the bag of steaming hot buns, picked it up, and turned to continue walking south of the city.

A middle-aged man's voice came from behind: "Sir, please take care!"

Chen Ping didn't turn around, his steps neither hurried nor slow.

He slowed down as he passed a row of butcher shops.

Various pieces of meat were laid out on the cutting board: pork, beef, and mutton, all neatly arranged with alternating layers of fat and lean.

The butcher shops in the south of the city catered to the wealthy, their cutting boards laden with high-quality meat—thick layers of fat, clear marbling, and not a trace of offal visible. This was in front of a butcher shop cutting board that seemed to be doing relatively little business.

A slender scholar stood there.

He was in his early twenties, wearing a faded blue shirt with frayed cuffs, a scroll tucked into his waistband, and a slightly hunched back.

He stood in front of the cutting board, staring at the meat on it, his expression conflicted, his brows furrowed.

Behind the chopping board stood a burly butcher, wearing a greasy apron and clutching a cleaver.

The butcher saw the poor, pedantic scholar dawdling in front of his stall for a long time.

They didn't say anything to scold or drive them away.

He didn't even lift his eyelids, completely ignoring the scholar's dilemma, and instead took a greasy, dirty rag and vigorously wiped the blood off the cutting board.

Much later.

The scholar finally pulled out a handful of copper coins from his sleeve, counted them, and pointed to a palm-sized piece of meat on the cutting board.

The butcher took the copper coins, rubbed them in his palm, then picked up the cleaver and, with a swift motion, made another cut into the palm-sized piece of meat, removing nearly a third of it.

The remaining meat was tied with straw rope, wrapped in oiled paper, and placed in front of the scholar. "Since you're a scholar, I didn't water you off. Things are bad these days, there's war everywhere, and the price of grain and meat changes every day. The copper coins you have are only enough to buy this little bit of meat."

The scholar gritted his teeth, picked up the small bag of meat, stuffed it into his pocket, and turned to leave.

Chen Ping stood a few steps away, watching the scholar's figure disappear into the crowd.

A blue robe and a book.

He suddenly remembered Li Wenxiu.

Judging by the timeline, the final imperial examination should be in about two years.

I wonder how he is doing now.

Chen Ping withdrew his gaze and continued walking forward.

We hadn't gone far.

We arrived at the entrance of the Huai River Chamber of Commerce.

The storefront is a three-story building, with the four large, gilded characters "Huaishui Chamber of Commerce" shining brightly in the sun.

Two oxcarts and a horse-drawn carriage were parked at the entrance, and the goods on them had not yet been unloaded. Several helpers were carrying them inside. A group of people dressed as merchants were gathered around the counter, talking to the shop assistants. Some were looking through the order slips, while others were weighing the samples. It was a noisy scene.

Business is booming.

A servant was standing at the door. When he saw Chen Ping walking over, he was stunned for a moment. His gaze swept back and forth over Chen Ping's imposing uniform and tall figure. Then, he put on a smile and rubbed his hands together to greet him.

"Is this Master Chen?"

Upon hearing this, a hint of surprise flashed in Chen Ping's eyes.

He had never been here before, so how could this servant know him?

He nodded: "Yes."

The servant smiled even more ingratiatingly, rubbing his hands together and saying, "Master Bai has instructed that no matter when Master Chen arrives, he should be invited to rest on the third floor. Master Chen, let me show you the way."

Chen Ping followed him inside.

The first floor consisted of shops and counters, with shelves piled high with various goods: grains, medicinal herbs, cloth, and ironware, all neatly arranged in their respective categories.

The second floor is the reception hall, separated by several smaller rooms with curtains half-drawn, through which one can faintly hear voices.

We went up to the third floor. The tea room on the third floor wasn't big. On the mahogany tea table, there was a mountain of account books, each one open and covered with densely written numbers.

Bai Chongshan sat in the main seat, twirling a walnut in his hand, an account book spread out in front of him, his brows slightly furrowed.

Bai Ming sat to his right, holding a brush and sketching in another ledger.

Zhao Shuyan was also there.

He sat opposite Bai Chongshan, with several account books piled up in front of him. He held a teacup in one hand and turned the pages with the other, looking at them very carefully.

The servant led Chen Ping to the door and said to those inside, "Gentlemen, Master Chen has arrived."

Bai Chongshan looked up, saw Chen Ping, and smiled.

"Oh dear, you've come at a really bad time today. We're all busy checking these accounts and can't get away to personally show you around the Chamber of Commerce."

Chen Ping shook his head, found a seat, and placed the bag of steamed buns on the table.

"Don't worry about me. I've been in seclusion for a long time. I just came out for some fresh air. I happened to go to the east of the city but found you weren't there, so I came over to familiarize myself with the south gate of the city."

Bai Ming put down his pen, poured Chen Ping a cup of tea, and handed it to him, saying, "Here, have some tea."

Zhao Shuyan put down the account books, stood up, cupped his hands in greeting to Chen Ping, and said with a smile, "Brother Chen." Chen Ping picked up his teacup, took a sip, looked at the pile of account books on the table, and said, "Business is good?"

Bai Chongshan laughed and twirled the walnut in his hand twice: "It's alright, better than expected, but there are too many accounts, making it difficult to sort them out."

He glanced at Zhao Shuyan: "Thanks to Mr. Zhao's help, otherwise Ming'er and I wouldn't have finished matching even by tomorrow."

Zhao Shuyan waved his hand modestly: "Master Bai, you flatter me. Since we are all on Brother Chen's big ship, whether the accounts of this chamber of commerce are clear or not is related to everyone's confidence. It is my duty to do some hard work in sorting out the accounts."

Bai Chongshan took a sip of tea, then suddenly remembered something and said, "By the way, Zhang Tingwan's family should arrive today."

Chen Ping glanced at him.

Bai Chongshan said, "You asked me to settle them in Yangzhou City before, but there were not enough people there, so we couldn't send them out. Now that the Chamber of Commerce has been established, we have both manpower and trade routes, so I asked the merchants to pick them up and bring them back to Tianyan City along the way."

He twirled a walnut and said, "I bought them a small house in the east of the city. It's not big, but it's enough for a few people."

He looked at Chen Ping.

"You made a good move by telling me to move the people ahead of time. The fighting in Yangzhou is fierce right now. If we had waited a few more months, I'm afraid we wouldn't have been able to get them out."

Chen Ping nodded without saying anything more.

Bai Ming closed the account book in his hand and casually said, "Speaking of which, a chamber of commerce from out of town recently came to the south of the city. It's called Xinglong Trading Company. They're quite generous. They bought four or five shops in one go. I wonder what their background is." Bai Chongshan slowed down the walnut he was spinning.

There was no response.

Zhao Shuyan held his teacup, glanced at Bai Chongshan, but said nothing.

Chen Ping noticed their reactions but didn't ask any further questions.

A servant who was on lookout outside ran quickly up to the third floor and stood at the door to report to Bai Mingtong.

"Young Master, Instructor Liu and Instructor Wang have returned from the south gate, escorting the caravan."

after awhile.

The two of them went up to the third floor.

When Lao Liu and Lao Wang saw Chen Ping, they paused slightly, then nodded respectfully: "Master Chen."

Bai Ming turned to Chen Ping and said, "Brother Chen, Lao Liu and Lao Wang are now in charge of the security for our entire chamber of commerce."

Chen Ping nodded and said, "Thank you for your hard work." Old Liu clasped his hands in a fist salute, turned to Bai Chongshan, and said, "Master, we have brought Zhang Tingwan's family back; they are downstairs."

After hearing this, Bai Chongshan put down his teacup, glanced at Zhao Shuyan, and said, "Now that the person has been brought back, please trouble Chairman Zhao to inform young friend Zhang."

Zhao Shuyan understood the refined meaning behind the music.

He immediately put down the account book in his hand.

He stood up, straightened his long gown, and nodded with a smile in agreement.

"Mr. Bai, you flatter me. This is a perfectly reasonable arrangement."

"It is a great joy that Brother Zhang's family was able to survive the disaster and be reunited with their loved ones. I, Shuyan, will personally go and deliver this wonderful surprise to them."

He stood up, cupped his hands in a respectful gesture to Chen Ping, and said, "Shall I take my leave now?"

Chen Ping nodded.

Zhao Shuyan went downstairs.

Chen Ping said to Lao Liu and Lao Wang, "Please invite them up to rest."

The two agreed and turned to go downstairs. A short while later, the sound of light footsteps echoed down the stairs.

Three people walked up.

First up was Zhang Tingwan's father. He was in his early forties, with graying temples, a dark face with deep wrinkles, and hands as rough as old tree bark.

He was wearing a coarse, grayish-brown cloth garment, covered in dust from the journey, looking as if he had traveled a long way.

Behind him followed Zhang Tingwan's mother, whose hair was also gray at the temples, making her look more than ten years older than her actual age.

He was wearing a clean but wrinkled coarse cloth shirt, and clutching a small bundle tightly in his arms, which was probably all his belongings.

At the very back, hiding behind her mother with only half her head showing, was a little girl.

She was fourteen or fifteen years old, with two braids, a round face, and big eyes, and looked about five or six parts like Zhang Tingwan.

She was wearing a floral dress that didn't fit her well; the sleeves were a bit too long and were rolled up twice.

His face was still covered in dust from his journey, and his lips were a little chapped.

Her eyes lacked childlike liveliness, carrying a hint of timidity, like a small animal in a strange place, afraid to touch or look at anything.

The three men stood at the entrance to the third floor. Zhang's father glanced at the exquisite mahogany tea table and calligraphy and paintings in the tea room, then looked down at his own dusty clothes, a hint of embarrassment on his face. He stood there, hesitant to step inside. Bai Chongshan stood up and greeted him with a smile: "Brother, you must be tired from your long journey. Don't just stand here like an idiot. Come in and have a seat."

Mr. Zhang rubbed his hands together, his lips moved, and he managed to squeeze out a few words: "I'm sorry to have troubled you gentlemen."

Bai Chongshan pulled him inside and pressed him down to sit in a chair.

"Hey buddy, we're all family here, why are you being so formal?"

"Having traveled all the way from the war-torn city of Yangzhou, it is a great blessing to have arrived safely in Tianyan City. Come, sit down, have some hot tea to catch your breath, and rest your feet."

Zhang's mother followed him in, not daring to sit, and stood behind Zhang's father, her hands tightly clutching the bundle in her arms.

The little girl followed at the very back, half of her body hidden behind her mother, her eyes secretly peeking out.

Her gaze was filled with fear.

Her gaze swept over Bai Chongshan, over Bai Ming, over the account books on the table, and finally landed on Chen Ping.

Chen Ping's body, which had become even more robust and massive due to the mutation, was a full head taller than everyone else in the room.

He sat there looking like a small mountain.

The little girl stared at him for a couple of moments, then shrank back behind her mother. Then, her nose twitched.

On the table was a bag of mutton and scallion buns that Chen Ping had brought from the bun shop. Wrapped in oil paper, they were still steaming, and the aroma of meat kept wafting out.

Zhang Xiaoman's eyes were glued to the steamed buns, unable to look away.

Her stomach rumbled loudly, much to her dismay.

It wasn't loud, but in the quiet tea room, everyone could hear it.

The little girl's face flushed red, and she shrank behind her mother, lowering her head.

Mr. Zhang quickly said, "Zhang Xiaoman, didn't you just eat something a while ago? Why are you hungry again?"

His tone was somewhat hurried, carrying a hint of embarrassment at having lost face in front of outsiders.

Chen Ping smiled, picked up the oil paper package, walked up to Zhang Xiaoman, and handed her the bun.

"It's alright. You must be tired from your journey. Have something to eat first."

Zhang Xiaoman raised her head, looked at Chen Ping, and then at her mother.

Zhang's mother hesitated for a moment, then said softly, "Xiaoman, quickly... quickly thank this kind young man." Zhang Xiaoman carefully took a bun, took a bite, and her eyes immediately lit up.

She ate quickly, swallowing a bun in just a few bites, but after finishing, she didn't reach for another one. Instead, she lowered her head and licked her lips.

Chen Ping pushed the remaining few items in front of her, saying, "I've already eaten them all."

Bai Chongshan smiled and turned to Bai Ming, saying, "Go and prepare that courtyard."

Bai Ming nodded, got up, and went out the door.

Zhang's father looked at Bai Chongshan, and his eyes suddenly reddened.

This must be the person who has been helping them for the past few months.

They were settled in Yangzhou city, and people were sent to deliver money and rice every month. Finally, someone was sent to risk the journey to bring them out.

He suddenly stood up, bent his knees, and was about to kneel on the ground.

Chen Ping, who was sitting next to him, quickly grabbed his arm.

"Old man."

Chen Ping's voice wasn't loud, but it was steady. "Zhang Tingwan was my classmate, and it's only natural for classmates to help each other."

He helped Zhang's father to sit up straight and said, "Zhang Tingwan kowtowed for you earlier, so you don't need to kowtow again."

Zhang's father stood there, his lips trembling, unable to utter a word for a long time.

Zhang's mother stood beside her, her eyes red-rimmed, burying her face in the bundle.

Zhang Xiaoman had half a bun in her mouth. Looking at her parents, she didn't dare to chew or spit it out. She just kept it in her mouth, and her eyes reddened.

Bai Chongshan walked over, patted Zhang's father on the shoulder, and said gently, "Sit down. From now on, you'll be in Tianyan City. You can live peacefully and without worry."

Mr. Zhang nodded heavily, sat back in his chair, lowered his head, and his shoulders trembled slightly.

The tea room was quiet for a while.

Bai Chongshan sat down again, poured Zhang's father a cup of tea, chatted for a few minutes, and asked them about their journey, whether they had eaten well, and whether they had been injured.

Mr. Zhang was a man of few words, but he answered every question with a hoarse voice, and there were a few times when he almost couldn't continue speaking.

About half an incense stick later, hurried footsteps came from the stairs.

She ran up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. Zhang Tingwan appeared at the third-floor entrance, her chest heaving, as if she had run all the way up.

He stood at the doorway, his gaze sweeping across the tea room before landing on his father, who was sitting against the wall.

It fell on the mother again.

It landed on Zhang Xiaoman, who had half a bun in her mouth and red eyes.

He stood there, motionless.

Zhang's father looked up, saw his son, his lips moved, and he called out, "...Tingwan."

Zhang's mother also raised her head, tears welling up instantly, without uttering a single word.

Zhang Xiaoman swallowed the bun in her mouth, jumped up from the chair, rushed to Zhang Tingwan, buried her face in his chest, and let out a muffled cry.

"elder brother."

Zhang Tingwan reached out and hugged her sister's head, while her other hand clenched into a fist, hanging at her side, her knuckles turning white.

He didn't speak.

His eyes reddened, but he didn't cry. Chen Ping held his teacup, watched this scene, took a sip of tea, and then looked out the window.

Outside the window, the sun was already setting in the west, casting a warm yellow glow on the rooftops in the south of the city.