yu

And since when have you seen me let anyone walk over me?

He wanted to buy this place to open a second branch, but I turned him down.

I told him the reason. One, I don't own the place, my brother's just lending it to me. Second...

Where will you find an inexpensive place like this to eat, if I move out? They'll sell bean sprouts at thirty times the price!

I'm just concerned that he'll use some underhanded means to run you out, like arson or something...

Now that you mention it, I seem to remember him saying something like that...

What? Be careful! We can report it to the mandarins, if you feel the need.

Is there something that needs to be reported to a mandarin?

A gong rings a few times, and a procession of magnificent guards walk into the small restaurant, clearing a path.

A man wearing a mandarin's brocade robe walks through their ranks. A servant follows behind, carrying an embroidered box.

I will hear you out, if there is anything you want to say.

No one answers. The mandarin sits down at a table, and the servant immediately places an embroidered tablecloth on it.

The mandarin closes his eyes and takes in the aroma.

What are you cooking?

The subtle sweet smell is like the frosted fin soup I had at Dusk City, but even better, with a hint of Danyan pear.

Must be an outstanding nose, to smell fin from a pot of rock-sugar simmered pear.

I take it you've never tasted them. If you have, you'll know that I'm right.

What would you like? I'm not sure if our household dishes would suit your palate—

I'm in no hurry. What were you saying about someone with arsonist intent?

Yes! That Fortune House across the street!

They're trying to be the only restaurant in the area, driving all nearby competitors out of business, even if they have to operate at a loss.

Once they're rid of competition, they'll raise their prices... if there are no other restaurants in the neighborhood, anyone who needs to hold a banquet will have no choice but to go to them.

It's not just the big restaurants. They won't even let small restaurants like this one off the hook. It's going way too far, don't you think?

Sounds like you have quite the bone to pick with this Fortune House.

I've only recently taken office, and I don't usually involve myself in the local business...

But food is most important to the people, and I will not turn a deaf ear to the people's cries.

The mandarin gestures to his servant, who immediately heads to the restaurant across the street.

The firecrackers soon cease. There is no sound of argument or discussion, just sweet silence.

No need to worry about Fortune House anymore. There will be a thorough investigation.

Impressive. A wave of the hand is all it takes to rip the roof off a big restaurant.

Well, this one is small and old, so don't go waving your hand again. Just tell me what you would like.

Now I'm starting to get a bit peckish. How about...

A bowl of plain congee.

The servant takes out a bunch of coins and tosses them into the celadon bowl on the counter.

Clink, clink—

One bowl will do.

A bowl of congee is quickly served, filling the restaurant with a warm and pleasant aroma.

The mandarin smiles, but does not look at the congee.

One who is truly grateful repays a debt tenfold.

It was one meal on a snowy night, twenty years ago, but I've never forgotten. Don't you remember?

Really? (Scratches head) Doesn't really ring a bell.

With a smile, the mandarin stands up and pushes the chef forward, presenting him to the other diners.

Twenty years ago, I came to Baizao with great ambitions in my heart, only to have all my money stolen. It was you who gave me a meal to eat when I was cold and hungry.

I made it through the night thanks to that one meal, allowing me to walk through the doors of the Academy and submit my examination, such that my learning did not go to waste.

The imperial court recognized my ability, and now my achievement is known to all Yan! I have risen through the ranks, from administrator of a village all the way to governor of an entire province. I have protected the people from disaster and repaired the roads. I have moved mountains to dig new mines.

(Whisper) Doesn't that sound a little weird?

(Whisper) Why did it take him twenty years to come back, if that's really how he feels?

Shh!

If not for your generous aid, I, Lu Chun, would have died by the roadside, never achieving these great works.

This kindness is worth a thousand golden ingots!

The servant places the heavy embroidered box on the table. The aged wood creaks slightly.

The mandarin opens the box, revealing the shiny, round gold ingots within.

The restaurant falls silent, save for the occasional gulp. The chef frowns.

Let no one ever say that Lu Chun does not reward kindness generously.

The mandarin nods at the onlookers, then turns around and leaves.

It seems he did not need an answer. Or, rather, he has already gotten what he wanted.

The gong rings a few times once more, and the soldiers follow, disappearing from sight at the end of the street.

That was flamboyant. What position does he hold?

Screw the flamboyance! He left a bowl of perfectly good congee untouched. What a waste of food!

Using his power to put others down... He's no different from the owner of Fortune House.

All this gold, though...

Easy. He said he came to repay a debt. Any of you who's done an act of kindness that went unpaid can help yourselves.

Let's just say that he's helping everyone who owes a debt of kindness repay it. He likes fame and face, right? It'd make him happy, I'm sure.

I could open a couple of new storefronts if I had the funds...

Education for my kids, too... that's expensive...

A few diners stand up and toss coins into the celadon bowl, without casting a single eye towards the gold.

The rest hesitate, ponder, ruminate.

A dark cloud shrouds the moon. There is only the sound of clothes rustling in the restaurant. No one can see what anyone else is doing.

The clouds disperse, and the moon sets.

The sky is clear.

What's this...? The lamp's gone out, and my matches keep breaking.

Are the matches wet? They don't expire, do they?

The chef of the small restaurant walks to the door, reading the faint printing on the matchbox by the warm sunlight.

'Gui's Woodwork Grand Opening'... oh, I got this when Gui held the Manyue shower for his oldest son here.

Hm, the quality's definitely mediocre, if it won't light after just a couple of decades.

He tosses the matches behind the counter and closes his eyes to enjoy the warmth of the sun. When he opens them again, he sees a familiar figure standing before him, who seems to have been waiting there for a while.

Running errands for your dad again? I was just bad-mouthing him! Come in, have a seat.

I have his steamed beastmeat in flour ready. Don't ask me how I knew—I just looked at the calendar and had a hunch old Gui was starting to miss it again.

My dad...

...When?

Last night. He passed in peace. Didn't say anything.

So sudden...

Dad left instructions. He wants you to prepare a three-day funeral banquet for him.

Worrying about his funeral while he was still alive. Gui always worried so much.

Dad always wanted to do everything himself. He even made his own coffin... that was the last thing he ever made. He couldn't lift his tools after that.

Besides the funeral banquet, there's also this...

The young man points out the door, at two long planks wrapped in cloth, leaning against the wall.

A breeze presses the cloth against the wood, revealing the etched words.

'Four tables stand throughout a century, with guests from all across the land. Not for power, not for wealth, not for fame.

'Three meals served every day, with two chopsticks and a single stove. All for friends, all for stories, all for love.'

Dad said he promised you a pair of couplet plates with the sign. By the time he got the couplet, though, he only had the strength to carve the words. I finished the paint job a few days ago.

It's made from the finest wood... if you could consider it payment for my dad's debt.

Your dad didn't owe me anything.

Years ago, he borrowed a few gold ingots from this place to open a couple of new storefronts. He never forgot.

But Baizao expanded again soon after he opened the new storefronts. The routes changed, and business dried up.

It wasn't your dad's fault. Precious few people can read the future.

See what became of Fortune House across the street after the glory days were gone? Even their sign became firewood.

*Sigh*...

Once my dad's funeral is done, I plan to close the last shop and start a business elsewhere.

Already quiet to begin with, the restaurant is now completely silent. Not even the sound of chopsticks can be heard.