The Fortunate Lady and Her Mountain Man

Chapter 84: Chapter 84: Fighting for the Stall

Ji Huan had offered to treat Song Jing to a meal, and sure enough, he arrived as promised the very next day.

However, he arrived during the morning rush, so he couldn’t eat right away. Instead, he ended up helping out for a bit.

Thanks to the advertising sign set up in front of the stall, Hu Liang’s workload had lightened considerably.

It was so eye-catching that passing customers could spot it with a single glance.

Those who were literate read the words, and those who weren’t looked at the drawing. Then, either drawn in by the slogan or intrigued by the novelty, they would walk right up and ask specifically for the item pictured on the sign.

Song Jing winked at Ji Huan, as if to say he deserved half the credit.

Ji Huan shoved a bowl into his hands and patted his shoulder. "Waiter, get serving."

"What kind of way is that to talk?" Widow Xie shot her a mock glare.

But Song Jing didn’t mind at all. He even stopped her from scolding Ji Huan.

Once the morning rush was over, Song Jing finally transitioned from "waiter" to honored guest.

Ji Huan brought over the hot and spicy soup and a few freshly fried dough sticks, placing them both in front of him.

Tender white slivers of tofu, green spinach leaves, and specks of green onion... all set against the rising steam and accompanied by the golden dough sticks, the meal looked like a painting.

Song Jing was genuinely hungry, so he didn’t stand on ceremony and immediately dug in.

The hot and spicy soup was thick, savory, and fragrant, with a mild spiciness that lingered on the palate. The fried dough sticks were crispy on the outside yet fluffy on the inside. They were truly a perfect match.

Meanwhile, Ji Huan was looking through the book he had asked her to copy, along with the accompanying paper, ink, and brushes.

Catching him looking at her out of the corner of her eye, she asked without looking up, "What’s wrong? Is it not good?"

Song Jing put down his bowl and chopsticks and cleared his own dishes.

Turning back around, he said with a smile, "I just didn’t expect your cooking to be even better than your calligraphy."

Ji Huan raised an eyebrow. ’Does he have to put one thing down just to praise another?’

’Oh well,’ she thought. ’I’ll just take it as a compliment.’

Song Jing couldn’t stay long, as he had to hurry back to the academy for his lessons.

"Oh, we feel so bad about this..."

Both Widow Xie and Hu Liang felt extremely apologetic.

He had helped write the sign yesterday, and now he had spent half the morning bustling about. He was a child student, a gentleman destined for great things.

"Come back at the same time tomorrow! I’ll save a meal for you, so you can just come and eat..."

Song Jing waved his hand. "No, thank you, Auntie Xie. Your ’perfect match’ is truly delicious, but my teacher has recently given me extra homework. I’m afraid I won’t be able to come by often."

Only then did Ji Huan remember that he was due to take the prefectural exam after the New Year.

’No wonder she never saw him among the students eating out when they first set up their stall in town. He must have been saving time by making do with something simple at the school’s dining hall—or perhaps he wasn’t eating at all.’

’Skipping breakfast long-term isn’t healthy.’

Thinking of this, Ji Huan offered a piece of well-meaning advice. "Homework is important, but you still have to eat breakfast. Otherwise, it’s bad for your stomach."

Song Jing froze for a moment, then grunted in acknowledgment before suddenly breaking into a smile.

"I’ll remember what you said."

Baffled by his smile, Ji Huan held up the book in her hand. "I’ll finish copying this as soon as I can so I don’t hold you up."

"There’s no rush for that..." Song Jing caught himself just before he let something slip. He cleared his throat and said, "Well, I’ll let you get back to it. I’m heading back to the academy."

Widow Xie and Hu Liang walked with him to see him off.

After taking a few steps, he turned back to Ji Huan and said, "When you finish copying it, I have a gift to thank you."

Before Ji Huan could respond, he had already hurried off into the distance.

Ji Huan grumbled internally. ’Wasn’t this book supposed to be the thank-you gift he demanded from me? So why is he giving *me* a thank-you gift?’

Hu Liang suddenly let out a gasp. "Did Song Jing leave this?"

There were a dozen or so copper coins tucked under the teapot.

"We said it was our treat, so why did he leave money... That boy, he just refuses to take anything for free!" Widow Xie exclaimed, about to chase after him, but Ji Huan stopped her.

’Song Jing grew up in a difficult environment. His self-reliance is matched by his pride. He doesn’t depend on others, nor does he take advantage of them. He must have learned that from a very young age.’

"Let it go, Aunt Xie. It’s getting late. We should pack up and head home."

As they were leaving, the old man at the neighboring wonton stall suddenly called out to them. "Are you coming back tomorrow?"

Hu Liang found the question odd. "Of course we are."

The old man seemed to want to say more but was hesitant. "In that case, you’d better be caref..."

"AHEM—" The middle-aged man selling steamed buns across the way suddenly let out a loud cough.

The old man instantly fell silent.

Ji Huan glanced at the middle-aged man, but he avoided her gaze by busying himself with a steamer basket.

Hu Liang didn’t think anything of it and continued pulling the cart, but Ji Huan had a gut feeling that something was about to happen.

Her premonition came true the next morning, just as their first customers were arriving.

"You lot! Get out of here, now!"

A man in his early twenties stood with his hands on his hips, blocking the stall’s entrance.

He was tall and burly, with a large mole on his right cheek. One look was enough to tell he was bad news.

Thinking the man was just looking for trouble, Hu Liang went forward to try and reason with him. But before he could even speak, the man shoved him, sending him staggering back.

Seeing her son being bullied, Widow Xie immediately rushed forward. "This is our stall! Why are you getting physical?!"

"Your stall, my ass," the man with the mole sneered, planting one foot on a stool. He gestured around. "Go on, ask them whose spot this is!"

Ji Huan followed his gesture and found the answer written on the faces of the other stall owners.

The man with the mole said smugly, "Stop wasting my time! Grab your junk and get the hell out of here! A bunch of country bumpkins... didn’t you even bother to ask around? You dare set up shop on my turf?!"

His commotion scared off most of the customers who were eating, and those who had been about to come in now went to other stalls instead.

Ji Huan untied her apron and walked over. "You say this spot is yours?"

Seeing that the mother and son were cowering, the man with the mole didn’t take the young woman who had just approached seriously. "If it’s not mine," he said impatiently, "go on and ask who else dares to claim it!"

"Is that so..." Ji Huan extended her hand. "Let me see the deed, then."

The man with the mole barked, rolling up his sleeves. "You must have a death wish!"

He completely dodged her question.

"As far as I know, this area isn’t private property, so you couldn’t possibly have a deed. It’s public land designated for vendors to use, and there has never been any official rule stating who gets which specific spot. You claim it’s yours just because you say so? Show me the proof."

’The children of officials and wealthy families aren’t going to be running street stalls,’ she thought. ’This guy must be borrowing someone else’s power. But from the way he’s all bark and no bite, his backer probably isn’t that powerful either.’

The man with the mole flew into a rage. His finger nearly jabbed Ji Huan’s forehead as he snarled, "You just don’t know when to quit, do you?! I told you to move, so move! Cut the crap, or I’ll make you wish you had!"

He was acting tough, thinking he could scare her off, but he never expected Ji Huan to be even tougher.

She turned, walked over to the stove, and grabbed a cleaver.

The man’s face changed instantly. "Wh-what do you think you’re doing?!"

Widow Xie and Hu Liang rushed to stop her. "Wan, don’t do this! If worse comes to worst, we can just find another spot. It’s no big deal..."

Ji Huan ignored them. She walked straight up to the man with the mole, raised the cleaver, and brought it down with a swift CHOP, sinking the blade halfway into the wooden table.

"Either prove it, or get the hell out!"

The man’s foot was propped on the very bench next to that table. For a terrifying moment, he thought the cleaver was aimed a little lower, and his hands were now clamped tightly over a certain unspeakable region.

Seeing he was safe, he swallowed hard, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

His pathetic display drew roaring laughter from the onlookers.

Feeling utterly humiliated, the man with the mole pointed a trembling finger at Ji Huan and her family. "You just wait!" he sputtered, utterly exasperated.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!