Needless to say, Innkeeper Chen's abacus was clicking away furiously in his head.
A girl of eight already understands a great deal. The moment she walked in, she knew it was the man sitting beside the innkeeper who meant to buy her.
The instant she entered, he smiled at her with that vile grin of his, and instinct alone was enough to frighten her.
Her eyes, already swollen from crying, reddened again. She ducked behind her mother and clutched her waist with all her might, sobbing, "Mama, please don't sell Daya, all right? Daya will be good, Daya will look after little brother, I'll go out and work and earn money for Papa's medicine—Mama, please don't sell me."
The girl's mother wept too, her heart cut to ribbons. If there were any way to go on living, who would ever sell their own child?
But the man of her household had fallen ill. If he couldn't be cured, she would be left a widow with orphans on her hands. How would they all survive?
The woman wept in bitter anguish, yet no matter how she tried, she could not bring herself to say: *Don't sell her—let's go home.*
Innkeeper Chen fawned obsequiously. "Master Zhao, what do you think of this girl?"
"Mm, quite fine. If she's willing to come with me, I'll take her."
"No hurry, no hurry, Master Zhao. A girl this fresh and lovely—surely you could go a little higher?"
Zhao Baihui turned his head in astonishment. *Fresh and lovely?* The child was half-starved to nothing, and he was talking about *fresh and lovely?* Where did this man get the nerve? From my big brother Zhang Bairen? Or from Liang Jingru?
"Master Zhao, weren't you quite pleased with the girl?"
"If something more suitable comes along, contact me then." Zhao Baihui had just seen his income surge dramatically, and he was still buzzing with excitement. He suddenly felt the urge to spend some of it—something to calm the restlessness inside him.
Besides, watching this mother and daughter sob so wretchedly, he truly couldn't bring himself to tear a family apart.
Innkeeper Chen was at a loss. Was Zhao Baihui genuinely leaving, or playing hard to get? If this beast—*pfft*, if Master Zhao truly didn't want her, he stood to lose several dozen *wen*. That would sting.
"Master Zhao, Master Zhao, don't go—let's talk it over, talk it over, the price is negotiable!"
Zhao Baihui ignored the wretched innkeeper, but he could not ignore the woman's hand clutching at his trousers.
Those hands were so dried and brittle and frail. He was genuinely afraid that if he pulled free with any force, they might simply break.
"Sir, I'll sell her!" The words seemed to drain the woman of every last reserve of strength. When she finished speaking, she crumpled to the floor.
"Very well. I'll buy her." Zhao Baihui's expression was complicated. Only someone driven to the absolute edge of desperation would sell her own daughter.
If it were only herself she had to think of, she would sooner die than do this. But if she didn't sell the girl, the dying might not stop with her alone.
Zhao Baihui turned back to the table and pulled out two small pieces of broken silver, slapping them down.
This time Innkeeper Chen didn't dare haggle over the price. He hurriedly produced the contract and had both parties press their marks.
The mother and daughter held each other and wept from beginning to end.
Innkeeper Chen, in high spirits, rushed through all the formalities. He pocketed the two bits of silver, then counted out a hundred and forty *wen* and handed them to the woman.
A thirty-percent commission—sixty *wen* clear profit. Life was good.
One person was worth ten *jin* of rice. No, wait—after the fee, seven *jin* of rice.
Yet those seven *jin* of rice were enough to keep a poor peasant farmer through a stretch of recovery.
Whether he would actually recover was another matter.
Zhao Baihui watched as mother and daughter parted in lingering grief, the mother ceaselessly urging her daughter to be obedient.
Listening to it, he felt both wretched and restless.
"I have other business—it's time to go."
The woman gripped the coins in her left hand and her daughter's hand in her right.
Then, with one final cry of anguish, she let go of her right hand.
"I'll tell you where I live. If you ever want to see your daughter, you are always welcome. I won't stop you."
"Sir, this old woman knows her place. I would never come to your door and offend your eyes with the sight of me. You are a good man. I only ask that you treat my daughter kindly. In the next life, I will repay you even if I must come back as a beast of burden."
"Rest easy. She will live better in my home than she did in yours."
"Your name is Li Daya? That name won't do. From now on you'll be called Zhao Jinyuan."
"Come along. Follow me home."
Zhao Baihui walked ahead; Zhao Jinyuan followed behind, crying as she walked.
She cried for the separation from her family, and for the unknown life that lay ahead.
"Jinyi, open the gate—I'm back."
The front gate opened and Jinyi poked her head out, a little dirt on her face and clothes, a smile blooming across her face.
"Master, you're back."
"How did you get so covered in dirt?"
He walked into the courtyard and found Jinxiu and Jinwen there as well, holding tools, turning over the soil.
"Didn't I tell you not to bother with all this? We won't be staying here very long."
"We had nothing to do sitting idle, so we thought we'd tend the ground a little. Who knows, we might even harvest something in time to eat."
Zhao Baihui sighed. What good girls they were—all of them. A pity fate hadn't dealt them the best hand.
Then again—they'd ended up with him. Perhaps that counted as good fortune after all?
"Master, who is this little one?"
"Oh, I just bought her. She'll be called Zhao Jinyuan from now on. She's your little sister—take good care of her."
"Jinyi, go and make her something to eat. Jinxiu, Jinwen—you two put down that digging. Go heat some water and give Jinyuan a wash. She's picked up quite a smell."
"Yes, Master." All three girls answered cheerfully.
Zhao Jinyuan, who had been wiping her tears continuously, felt some of her dread ease at the sight of the three girls—none of them much older than herself.
Especially seeing how relaxed and lively they all seemed, she began to sense that her life here might not be so terrible after all.
"By the way—which of you can sew?"
"Master, all of us can."
In this era, needlework and cooking were essential skills for every girl. You might not do them well, but you could not be ignorant of them entirely.
"I—I can too..." Even Zhao Jinyuan spoke up in a small voice, wanting to show her worth.
Before they had parted, her mother had urged her: be sure to show your worth, be diligent, be obedient, eat little, and...
"Understood. Go on and get busy—I'm heading out once more."
The moment Zhao Baihui left, the girls broke into an eager chatter.
"You two heat water for Jinyuan's bath while I go get her something to eat."
"All right, big sister, you go on. We'll take good care of little sister."
Zhao Jinyuan, still in a daze, was pulled inside by the two girls who were only a little older than her. They talked to her as they went, telling her about the good things here, about how the master was kind, telling her she had nothing to fear.
Then they helped her bathe and changed her into a set of clothes that were equally worn but perfectly clean, without the faintest trace of odor.
Finally, they led her to the table.
On the table sat a bowl of rice congee, steaming hot, thick and rich.
Beside it, a small dish of salted vegetables.
"What are you staring at? Go on, eat! Aren't you hungry?"
Zhao Jinyuan swallowed hard and lowered her head. "Sisters, you eat—I'm not hungry. I mean, I am hungry, but a small bowl of wild-herb porridge is enough to fill me. I don't need rice congee."