Chapter 71: Chapter 55 Dai Sanlang_3
Du Changqing muttered, "Why would a butcher also want to be slender?"
Following his gaze, Yin Zheng smirked, "Why not? It’s only the women who are expected to have slim figures, while men are given such leniency. I find this butcher brother to be superior to most men in Shengjing, at least he realizes his appearance is not ideal and knows to do something about it."
"If you ask me, the men of Shengjing should all learn from him and take better care of themselves, so that we women don’t have to walk down the street and see nothing but ugly men with potbellies, who still consider themselves to be dandies, which is absolutely nauseating."
Du Changqing was speechless, "Where did you hear such twisted logic? Men shouldn’t be judged solely on their looks."
"If looks aren’t important, why does Shopkeeper Du change his clothes and dust himself with fragrant powder all the time?" Yin Zheng purposely teased him, "Besides, I haven’t seen many talented men on the streets of Shengjing either. Either good looks or outstanding scholarship, one should have at least one of these qualities, right?"
"I can’t argue with you, I won’t talk to you anymore." Du Changqing turned to Lu Tong, "But Doctor Lu, is this medicine really effective? It won’t be that after taking it for a while, he remains the same, and in a fit of rage, chops us both up, will he?" He added, "Let me say first, I can’t beat him."
Lu Tong lowered her eyes, "As long as he wishes, he will achieve his desire."
"What do you mean?"
Lu Tong didn’t speak, and after a while, she finally said, "For him, it’s very effective."
...
Time always passes quickly.
Midsummer climbs high, with the sun above, the fifth day of the fifth month is the Dragon Boat Festival.
On West Street, every shop hung fresh mugwort and calamus on their walls for warding off evil, Sister Song’s husband bought realgar wine, and Younger Sister Song gathered bamboo leaves, planning to celebrate the festival together at home.
Younger Sister Song called out from the kitchen, "Mother, we’ve run out of cured meat."
Sister Song replied loudly, "Leave it, I’ll go out and buy some."
The zongzi also required cured meat, but Dai Sanlang from Dai’s Shop, who sells pork, had gone back to his hometown a month ago, saying his old mother caught a cold and he went home to tend to her. Sister Song could only buy meat from other butchers, but after trying different places, she still felt none matched the quality of Dai’s. Today, it was early, and she thought she might as well see if Dai’s Shop had opened yet.
As she stepped out, a woman carrying a bamboo basket approached her.
This woman was about thirty years old. She wore an aqua blue embroidered garment with a green velvet collar, beneath which was a white pleated skirt. Her hair was done in a married woman’s style, her skin was fair, and gold pendants dangled lightly from her ears. Although not strikingly beautiful, she was quite charming.
Sister Song stopped and called out, "Widow Sun!"
This woman was none other than Widow Sun.
Widow Sun was quite a character herself, originally the daughter of the rice shopkeeper on West Street. At eighteen, she married a minor official in Shengjing, but just a few years into the marriage, her husband died of illness. Before his death, he adored her immensely, leaving her lands, shops, and several chests of gold and silver jewelry in her name. With his parents long gone, she inherited several houses as well.
Widow Sun returned to West Street with her late husband’s silver and little daughter. With money at her disposal and not lacking in looks, she attracted many suitors over the years. But all the matchmakers sent her way she dismissed, the reason being that Widow Sun had no love for wealth or talent—she only fancied handsome men.
Whenever a matchmaker visited, Widow Sun would graciously invite them to sit and have tea, later adding just one condition, "I don’t ask for much; I just want a well-favored man."
"Well-favored" sounds simple, but tastes differ greatly from person to person. The matchmakers’ idea of "well-favored," which probably just meant any man with eyes and a nose, was clearly not up to Widow Sun’s standard. Consequently, years passed without her finding someone who caught her eye.
As for the younger men, whose main intent was to live off a woman, she found their excessive use of cosmetics off-putting, giving off a childish air that hadn’t yet dissipated. If she considered more mature, reliable-looking candidates, she criticized them for appearing too rough and for not wearing even a sachet, clearly not a match for her standards.
A few years earlier, Widow Sun took an interest in Du Changqing, but since he was unwilling to be a live-in son-in-law, he gently declined and the marriage proposal was dropped.
"You’re up early, Widow Sun," Sister Song greeted her warmly.
With a smile, Widow Sun nodded at Sister Song. With her finger tipped in cardamom, she gently pointed forward and said coyly, "I’m buying some meat to wrap zongzi."