Thieves weep at the sight of a thief.

“Of course, that petty thief must be new here, not from Pingjiang Prefecture. To dare steal right in front of Lord Lu—he must be itching for a new set of clothes,” remarked the young man at the rope shop by the dock, working briskly as he carefully carried bundles of hemp rope, occasionally casting a few approving glances at the figure in red.

“Look at our Lord Lu—he personally caught a petty thief.”

Before he could finish, the young pickpocket was kicked to the ground by the man, two guards swiftly moved in, and within moments, the thief was handcuffed and taken away.

A money pouch embroidered with peonies sliced through the mist and landed precisely into the victim’s arms.

“Oh dear, my wife just embroidered this for me. Even if I lose money, I can’t lose this pouch.”

The man clenched the pouch tightly, gazing after the departing figure. Stroking his beard, he said firmly, “I’m in the leather trade and have traveled far and wide, yet I’ve rarely seen such a young lord.”

He caught a glimpse of the youth’s face—though blurred, it was clear this was a young man.

“That’s right,” the shop assistant said. Having worked at the rope shop for five or six years, he saw Lord Lu every day. Seeing the curiosity of the outsider, he explained, “Our Lord Lu is only eighteen this year and is the second son in his family.”

He gulped down his tea and continued, “Everyone in Pingjiang Prefecture respects him. Lord Lu holds the rank of Seventh Grade Metropolitan Inspector, overseeing both river and land patrols along the Zhenze coast and throughout the counties. He commands over a thousand strong soldiers, tasked with capturing thieves and protecting trade routes. Two years ago in autumn, when the Black Wind Gang plundered merchant ships in Zhenze, Lord Lu personally led his troops in a combined land and water assault from Wujiang County. In less than ten days, they wiped out the bandit den and even captured the gang leader alive!”

“...Now that he’s here in Pingjiang Prefecture, you can have a good time. The public security is excellent! With Lord Lu around, the common folk can sleep soundly at night!”

He had repeated this story to outsiders countless times, speaking fluently and without pause.

Two years ago?

Wei Jinyun steadied herself, squeezed through the crowd, and listened to the young man’s animated account.

By the time Lord Lu was sixteen, he was already fighting bandits; meanwhile, she was still grappling with “Oh my, how dangerous and lofty,” “Why don’t we have to drill today?” and “Which gate to exit, how many seconds to run to get the limited fried chicken drumstick from the canteen...”

“So much said, but we still don’t know this Lord Lu’s full name.”

Having finished his tea, the shop assistant put down the bowl and said, “Listen carefully: our Lord Lu, who makes bandits tremble and thieves fear, his surname is Lu, and his given name is Lan.”

At this, the listeners applauded politely, making the young man beam proudly.

“Don’t want to be a rope worker anymore? Go become a storyteller.”

The rope shop owner, hearing his storytelling tone, came out and tapped him on the head.

“Ouch,” he said, shrinking his neck and continuing to carry rope.

The spectators laughed at the scene. Whether it was due to the young man’s words or not, the passengers disembarking from the boat behind began to do so in an orderly fashion, no longer pushing and shoving.

Wei Jinyun and her companions checked their permits again, squeezed through Changmen Gate, and slowly stepped into Pingjiang city.

The plum rain came in waves but ceased by early afternoon, and a faint light broke through the dark clouds.

“Ling sister, walk slowly, be careful not to slip.”

Wei Fuling ran ahead on the stone slabs of the street. Pingjiang city was crisscrossed with water and bridges, connecting here and there. She leapt over one arch bridge and dashed down another, thoroughly enjoying herself.

Still, she insisted on carrying a small bundle herself. Wang Qiulan relented and folded a square cloth, packed two sets of their clothes, and tied the bundle for her to carry.

She proudly boasted about helping her grandmother and sister with their luggage.

Wei Fuqu lacked her younger sister’s boundless energy. The red bean paste buns their grandmother made had long since been eaten during the boat journey, but she still carried the empty basket.

Secretly, she took half a bag of flour from Wei Jinyun’s backpack, covered it with a cloth, and even placed a nearly withered lotus flower on top as a disguise.

Wei Jinyun noticed but pretended not to see—her sister was just being considerate.

***

It had been over forty years since Wang Qiulan last returned to Pingjiang Prefecture. Her gaze drifted over the surroundings, wiping away a tear at the corner of her eye.

The road was still the same, the arch bridge she used to cross with her sister in childhood. They had counted the stones, fished baskets of shrimp beneath the bridge.

Everything seemed unchanged, yet everything felt different.

Many new shops had opened; even the few old ones remaining had entirely new faces shouting their wares.

Bright banners waved, shop assistants called out warmly under the eaves, and the bustling crowd flowed like a river.

A variety of aromas mixed with the steam from freshly baked goods escaped from shops and street stalls.

“Freshly baked crab shell pastries—come and get them hot! Filled with fresh meat, crab roe, shrimp, or sweet fillings like sugar, red bean paste, and date paste. Our flaky crust is a family recipe passed down through generations. Only three copper coins for a taste—buy some as snacks for young and old alike, and everyone will praise your good taste!”

Little sesame cakes puffed up crisply in the stacked stone ovens. The assistant skillfully picked several with bamboo tongs, wrapped them in greaseproof paper, sesame seeds scattering across the table.

“Sour plum drink, lychee syrup, perilla water, and red bean soup, only two coins a bowl—come and get a bowl!”

“Step inside, kind sir! Feel the smoothness of our Wu silk, soft as spring water, shining brighter than moonlight. Wearing it is both elegant and cool, the perfect match for your distinguished appearance! Whether you want skirts, robes, jackets, or half-sleeves, we can tailor it all at fair prices!”

Another shop rivaled the call, “Look at our embroidered gold-threaded silk! Perfect for new clothes during festivals or adding to your lady or gentleman’s wardrobe—truly exquisite and refined! Our loyal customers keep coming back. No tricks here! How about picking out some fabric first?”

Listening to these calls, Wei Jinyun was amazed. To establish oneself in this vast Pingjiang market, mere shouting wasn’t enough—you had to shout with flair.

Everyone sported sharp tongues.

The calls, the clatter of carriages and horses, and faint sounds of pipa and silk-and-bamboo instruments filled the air. The crowds were countless, dressed in fine clothes, with sedan chairs and carriages.

“Ling sister, come eat a bowl of soup noodles.”

Wang Qiulan stopped at a faded banner outside a soup noodle shop. The words “Qian’s Soup Noodle Shop” had long faded, the banner yellowed at the edges. Compared to the previous raucous calls, this shop had no assistants outside.

Yet tables and chairs were set out on the street, filled with laborers and porters.

After waiting for a while, they were finally seated at a small table.

Wei Jinyun quickly added a bowl and poured vinegar for the two sisters, teasing Wang Qiulan about whether she had dreamed of this place before, given her familiarity.

They had been on the boat only a few days, rocked and tossed along the river during the rainy season—a hard journey. Despite Wei Jinyun’s efforts to prepare food, the sisters still felt dizzy and ate little.

“A bowl of soup noodles will make your stomach feel better.”

Wei Jinyun gently ruffled Wei Fuling’s restless head. “Grandmother said this shop hasn’t changed in decades. I don’t think they can start cooking right away. We should eat outside first.”

Wang Qiulan’s old shop was not far away, just around the next corner. She had eaten here from childhood and was surprised it still stood after all these years.

Though eager to return to the shop, she couldn’t resist stopping here.

Behind the kitchen’s bamboo curtain, steaming bowls were brought out.

One could faintly see the pot bubbling on the stove, the cook flinging dough onto the board, thin strands of noodles pulled and dropped into boiling water.

“Prices everywhere are rising, but your soup noodle shop has stayed the same for decades—old Qian, aren’t you afraid of losing money?”

A customer mixed his noodles and laughed loudly.

“No loss, just a little profit,” the cook replied. “We rely on your patronage—making money isn’t easy for anyone.”

The customers laughed and chatted, while the shop resounded with the sounds of slurping noodles.

Pingjiang’s noodles were famous for their toppings. Snow-white strands lay in the bowl, topped with colorful garnishes served in several small dishes.

Transparent stewed eel, tender braised pork with a mix of lean and fat, a separately plated fried egg, and a bowl of peeled shrimp.

They ordered three bowls—one each for Wei Jinyun and Wang Qiulan, and the two sisters shared one small bowl.

***

“I want a big bowl too.”

Wei Fuling used her spoon to pick shrimp from the bowl, eyeing Wei Jinyun’s large serving.

“You always want more than you can eat.”

Wei Fuqu gave her half the fried egg. “You finish this half bowl plus the braised pork before you talk.”

“You’re so mean, Qu sister.”

Wei Fuling puffed out her cheeks, removing the fatty parts of the braised pork and scooping the lean meat into her bowl. “No meat for you.”

Wei Jinyun choked on her roasted barley tea but laughed silently.

Wei Fuling loved fried eggs; Wei Fuqu disliked fatty meat.

Though the soup was clear and bright, it was made by simmering chicken and marrow bones to exquisite flavor.

The noodles were perfectly cooked—each strand firm and springy, the wheat aroma mingling with the softness of the braised meat, melting on the tongue.

Spoonfuls of fresh river shrimp added a delightful bite, their briny sweetness blending with the broth. With each mouthful, warmth spread through their bodies, quickly dispelling the seasickness of recent days.

“Delicious.”

Wei Jinyun sipped the soup, her eyebrows twitching. “No wonder grandmother never wanted to leave this place.”

“So tasty, she cried,” Wei Fuling said, nibbling on her fried egg.

Wei Fuqu handed over a handkerchief.

Wang Qiulan wiped away tears and smiled.

The taste of Qian’s Soup Noodle Shop had remained unchanged for decades, stirring bittersweet nostalgia. She had no regrets bringing her granddaughters back.

Qian’s shop was honest; most customers were porters, and the portions were generous. By the end, Wei Fuling still hadn’t finished her half bowl, vowing to finish it next time.

They paid twenty coins in total, feeling full and content.

Following the lease address, the four of them finally stood before the shop.

The location was excellent.

Situated on the main street before Tianqing Temple, though not the prime spot, it was somewhat on the edge but offered beautiful scenery where the Lindun River and Bifengfang River intersected.

To the left was a stationery shop rich with the scent of ink, its well-dressed customers coming and going. To the right was a bustling deli, its aromas inviting.

Wei Jinyun stared at the storefront for a long time, realizing it was very close to where her grandmother’s old-style pastry shop would be a thousand years later.

This was the street before the temple!

Such a prime location had been left abandoned all this time—it was truly a pity.

The heavy wooden door was weathered, covered in cobwebs. Above the lintel, where a plaque should hang, was empty, overtaken by weeds and succulents.

The crooked window panes were patched with paper riddled with holes, and broken tiles on the eaves were covered with damp moss swaying in the wind.

With a creak, the door opened, the lock falling away with a clatter, sending a cloud of fine dust into the air.

No lock was needed at all.

“Well now, the sun’s risen in the west today—who dares show up at this haunted house?”