Chapter 12.
The next morning, the wind was biting and cruel. It whistled through the gaps in the village fence, carrying the sharp scent of snow.
Su Lan stood outside their courtyard gate. She had set up a small, rickety wooden table. On top of it, she carefully stacked the bars of pale green soap. They looked like small bricks of jade against the gray wood. Next to the stack, she placed a piece of flat wood where Long Tan had used charcoal to write a simple sign:
"Peach Leaf Healing Soap — 5 Copper Coins."
Su Lan wrapped her thin coat tighter around herself, stomping her feet to keep the blood flowing. She smiled at every villager who walked past, but her heart was pounding with nervousness. This was her first time trying to sell something she had made.
However, the morning did not go well.
Villagers walked by, bundled in rags and furs. They stopped, looked at the soap, and then looked at the price tag. Their eyes went wide.
"Five coppers?" a neighbor woman scoffed, shaking her head. "Su Lan, have you gone crazy from the cold? I can buy five large eggs for that price. I can buy a bag of coarse grain!"
"It is healing soap," Su Lan explained, her voice trembling slightly. "It helps with the cold pain. It heals cuts."
"It looks like pig fat mixed with grass," a man muttered as he walked past without stopping. "Who has money to wash their body when their stomach is empty?"
One hour passed. Then two.
The wind got colder. Su Lan's nose was red. Her smile began to fade. Not a single person had bought a bar. The stack of soap remained perfect and untouched.
She looked back toward the courtyard where Long Tan was sharpening his arrows. He looked calm, but she felt a heavy weight in her chest.
"Maybe... maybe 5 is too high," she whispered to herself, rubbing her frozen hands. "Maybe we are just dreaming."
Just as she was about to pack up the table in defeat, a hunched figure came limping through the snow.
It was Old Zhang.
He looked terrible today. His back was bent like a dried shrimp. He wore only a thin, ragged shirt because he had sold his wife's winter coat to pay the Tax Collector yesterday. His skin was gray from the cold. His hands, hanging by his sides, were swollen and covered in angry red cuts from chopping firewood without gloves.
He walked up to the table slowly. He looked at Su Lan, then he looked past her at Long Tan in the yard.
With shaking hands, he reached into his pocket. He pulled out five copper coins. They were dirty and worn. These were likely his last coins for food.
"I will buy one," Old Zhang said. His voice was raspy, like dry leaves scraping together.
Su Lan was startled. She gently pushed his hand back. "Uncle Zhang, no. You need this money for food. You sold your coat yesterday. You don't need soap."
Old Zhang shook his head stubbornly. He placed the coins on the table with a soft clink.
"Long Tan saved me from the whip," he said, looking at the ground. "He saved my dignity in front of the whole village. If you are selling something, I will buy it. It is the only way I can say thank you."
He wasn't buying the soap because he wanted it. He was buying it out of honor. He was sacrificing his meal to repay a debt.
He grabbed a bar of soap, bowed slightly toward the courtyard, and turned to limp away toward his run-down hut.
Su Lan watched him go, her heart aching. "He is a good man," she thought. "But a broken one."
Old Zhang returned to his drafty, cold hut at the edge of the village. The wind blew right through the cracks in the walls.
Inside, a small, thin girl was sitting by the cold stove, wrapped in a blanket. This was his daughter, Xiao Yu. She was six years old, but she looked four because she was so malnourished.
"Father, you are back," she shivered, her teeth chattering.
Zhang looked at the soap in his hand. He had bought it, so he might as well use it.
"Let's wash, Xiao Yu," Zhang said gently. "Long Tan's wife made soap. We should try it."
He used a little bit of precious firewood to heat a pot of water. He didn't expect anything special. He just wanted to clean the dirt off his daughter.
He dipped his hands into the warm water and rubbed the pale green soap. It lathered quickly into a rich, creamy foam.
He scrubbed his own hands first to clean them.
Suddenly, Old Zhang froze.
Tingle.
A strange sensation shot through his fingers. It wasn't the stinging pain of soap getting into a cut. It was a warm, numbing buzz.
The sharp, burning pain in his cracked knuckles... vanished.
A comfortable heat spread from his hands up to his arms, chasing away the bone-deep chill of the winter.
He looked down at his hands in shock.
The angry redness around his cuts was fading before his eyes. The dried blood washed away, leaving pink, healthy skin. The swelling in his joints went down.
"This..." Zhang gasped, staring at the green bar. "This isn't soap. This is medicine!"
He quickly turned to Xiao Yu. Usually, the girl cried during winter baths because the air was so freezing.
He gently rubbed the foam onto her small, shivering back.
"Oh!" Xiao Yu's eyes popped open. She didn't cry.
"It tickles!" she giggled. A flush of color returned to her pale cheeks. "Father, it feels like the sun is touching me! It's warm!"
She splashed the water, laughing. It was the first time Old Zhang had heard her laugh in months. The sound made tears prick his eyes.
He touched his own face. The rough, dead skin felt smooth. He felt energized, as if he had just slept for ten hours.
Ten minutes later, the villagers standing near Su Lan's stall were still laughing at the price.
"Five coppers! Who does she think she is?"
Suddenly, a shout cut through the air.
"I bought it! I bought it!"
Old Zhang came running back down the snowy path. He wasn't limping as much as before. His eyes were wide and wild with excitement. He held his hands up in the air like he was holding gold.
"Old Zhang?" A villager laughed. "Did you lose your mind? Did the soap freeze your brain?"
"Look!" Zhang shouted, shoving his hands in their faces. "Look at my hands!"
The villagers stopped laughing. They leaned in.
They knew Old Zhang. They knew he chopped wood all day. His hands were usually a bloody mess of cracks, sores, and frostbite.
But now?
His hands were clean. The deep cuts from yesterday were sealed shut. The skin looked pink and healthy, not gray and dead.
"I used this soap ten minutes ago," Zhang announced, his voice loud and clear. "My pain is gone. My daughter is laughing for the first time all winter. This is not soap! This is a heater in a bar! It is worth 10 coppers, but she sells it for 5!"
The crowd murmured. Some were suspicious.
"He is just saying that because Long Tan saved him yesterday," one man whispered. "He is just repaying a favor."
"Yes, he is lying to help them."
But then, the Village Blacksmith pushed through the crowd. He was a big man with burns on his arms. He grabbed Old Zhang's hand and inspected it closely.
"This cut on your thumb..." the Blacksmith frowned, rubbing his thumb over Zhang's skin. "I saw this cut yesterday when you brought me wood. It was deep and infected. Now it is closed."
The Blacksmith looked up. He looked at Su Lan.
He reached into his leather apron and pulled out coins.
"Give me two bars. My back hurts from the anvil."
That was the spark.
Once the Blacksmith bought, the dam broke.
Old Zhang was a trusted native. He was poor, but he never lied. If he spent his last food money on this, and if the Blacksmith confirmed it, then it had to be real.
"Give me one!"
"My grandmother has terrible back pain, I will try one!"
"I want one for my wife!"
Su Lan's hands moved fast. She wrapped the bars in large leaves and handed them out.
Clink. Clink. Clink.
Copper coins filled her wooden bowl. The sound was like music.
By the afternoon, the table was almost empty. She had sold 8 bars.
Total Earnings: 40 Copper Coins.
In Meng Village, 40 coppers was enough to buy high-quality white rice for a whole week. It was a fortune for a single day of work.
The crowd finally dispersed. Old Zhang stood off to the side, smiling tiredly. He looked proud. He had helped his benefactor.
Long Tan walked out of the courtyard. He held a fresh bar of soap in his hand.
He walked straight to Old Zhang.
"Take it," Long Tan said, holding it out.
"No, no," Zhang waved his hands frantically, stepping back. "I didn't do it for a reward. I just wanted to tell the truth..."
"Take it," Long Tan insisted, grabbing Zhang's hand and pressing the soap into it. "This is not charity. You are my salesman. This is your commission for bringing me customers. Go home and wash your hair with it. It will help you sleep."
Zhang looked at the soap, then at Long Tan. Tears welled up in his eyes.
"Thank you, Lord Long."
He clutched the soap to his chest and walked away to cook dinner for Xiao Yu.
Su Lan stood beside Long Tan, watching Zhang walk away. She sighed sadly.
"He looks so old," she whispered. "His back is so bent. He walks like a man of sixty, waiting to die."
Long Tan looked at Zhang's retreating back with a sharp, analyzing gaze.
"He is not old," Long Tan said quietly.
"What?" Su Lan looked at him in confusion.
"Zhang Wei is only 32 years old," Long Tan revealed. "He is only a few years older than me."
Su Lan gasped, covering her mouth. "Impossible! His hair is gray! His face is full of wrinkles!"
"Grief ages a man faster than time," Long Tan said grimly. "When his wife died of sickness two years ago, his heart died with her. He spent all his money on her medicine, but she still died. Now he starves himself to feed Xiao Yu. His life force is dried up."
Long Tan narrowed his eyes.
"But today... when he talked about the soap... I saw a fire in his eyes. It was small, but it was there. He is not dead yet. If he had good food, and hope... he could be strong again."
Su Lan nodded, clutching the heavy bowl of copper coins. "We gave him hope today."
"Yes," Long Tan turned back to the house. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by the cold look of a hunter. "The money is good. But money attracts danger."
He looked at the setting sun, painting the snow in shades of blood red.
"Tonight, the Alpha comes."
[AUTHOR'S NOTE]
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