Chapter Seventy-One: The Legend of the Steamed Bun

Chapter Seventy-One: The Legend of Baozi

If there was anyone in Tokyo whom Tie Xinyuan truly liked from the heart, it was undoubtedly Baozi.

Yet everyone else said Baozi was a fool, a big fool at that! Tie Xinyuan cared not one bit about this flaw.

In the city of Tokyo, where desires ran rampant and morals decayed, only Baozi’s heart remained pure. Whenever someone needed help, he would lend a hand without hesitation, whether it meant moving house or doing the dirtiest of work; his only request was to have a full meal.

As for what he ate, Baozi was never picky—from black bread to pickled vegetables, even meat pies would do.

He once dug a huge vegetable cellar for Wang Rouhua free of charge, and she warmly invited him for a supper of noodle soup. That evening, Seventh Brother’s noodle shop didn’t open—the reason being Baozi had eaten all the noodles himself.

Large eyes, a wide mouth, tall stature, long legs, long arms—these were his features. Every part of him was much bigger than most.

There were advantages to being big: a horse could run along his arm, a man could stand atop his fist.

Common folk of the Song Dynasty were generally frail, and none could withstand a single punch from Baozi. If he wished to take revenge on society, he could kill a thug like Zhen Guanxi with one blow; three strikes would be unnecessary.

Such a man ought to walk with swagger through Tokyo, yet he was reduced to being bullied by cats and dogs.

Whenever Baozi came by, Tie Xinyuan would gleefully climb onto his neck. Riding on Baozi’s shoulders and gazing down at the crowd below was a tremendous pleasure; just the feeling of being high above was enough to make Tie Xinyuan willingly pay the price of a large meat-stuffed flatbread.

Once Tie Xinyuan had climbed onto his back and settled on his neck, Baozi would grin, picking up the not-so-light box with one hand and grabbing the four-wheeled cart with the other, striding toward Imperial Street.

Of all the households nearby, Baozi liked the Tie family best. The Tie family’s beautiful mistress not only gave him noodle soup but also filled a big bowl to send to his blind mother.

“Brother Yuan, could I have two small flatbreads instead?”

Tie Xinyuan, feeling proud atop Baozi’s forehead, heard this request and patted his head, saying, “Are you silly? One big flatbread is worth four small ones; if you take two small ones, you’re losing out.”

Baozi chuckled, “I want to save one for my mother.”

Without looking down, Tie Xinyuan could picture Baozi’s simple, delighted face; in his mind, two was always more than one.

Tie Xinyuan sighed, “Can’t you just eat half the big one and save half for your mother? Baozi, believe me, one big flatbread is really more than two small ones.”

Baozi bumped aside a donkey in the path and grinned, “I know, Brother Yuan never lies. But if there’s only one bread, no matter how big, I’m afraid I’ll eat it all at once…and then my mother won’t get any.”

Tie Xinyuan felt his nose sting, moved by this half-fool’s logic, and could only shout, “How did you come up with such haggling? Fine, you win! Two flatbreads for you—two big ones!”

Baozi howled like a beast and dashed toward Imperial Street, knocking aside countless pedestrians faster than a galloping horse.

Tie Xinyuan gritted his teeth, clinging tightly to Baozi’s head and cursing nonstop. The idiot only knew how to run, forgetting his own height; with Tie Xinyuan riding on his shoulders, he was even taller, and Tie Xinyuan’s head kept banging against all sorts of signboards like a drumstick. He wanted to jump down, thinking it better to fall to his death than be smashed to death, but Baozi, afraid he'd slip off, held his legs tight with the hand carrying the box.

Luckily, in a blink they arrived at Niu Sanpa’s flatbread shop.

Niu’s eldest son saw Tie Xinyuan’s bloody nose and was startled. Without a word, he kicked Baozi and scolded, “You ox-head, we finally have a child prodigy on this street and you’re going to kill him?”

Baozi was terrified, quickly setting Tie Xinyuan down. Tie Xinyuan wobbled, rubbing the huge bump on his forehead—the result of hitting the signboard at Hou’s medicine shop, the only one made of copper in Imperial Street.

Baozi, at a loss, wanted to comfort Tie Xinyuan, but the fact that Tie Xinyuan hadn’t cried yet was already remarkable.

Tie Xinyuan stepped back and shouted, “Stay there! Come closer and you’ll lose your flatbread.”

Baozi froze instantly at the threat.

Tie Xinyuan breathed out, telling the eldest Niu, “Big brother, give this guy two flatbreads, the biggest ones, with extra meat.”

Finally understanding, Niu wiped Tie Xinyuan’s face with the cloth from his shoulder, tore off two strips to stuff in his nostrils, and the bleeding stopped.

Baozi squatted at the shop door, hugging his head like a remorseful child. Tie Xinyuan swung his fists at him, but his blows felt like tickling—Baozi’s tough muscles only made Tie Xinyuan's hands ache.

Children from poor families were generally hardy; Niu didn’t see Tie Xinyuan’s injuries as serious. Knowing Baozi’s appetite, he brought out two flatbreads as big as pot lids, a full inch thick.

He knew Tie Xinyuan was beating Baozi just to vent his anger, and would never skimp on Baozi’s meal. On Imperial Street, no one who set Baozi to work ever gave him less to eat.

Passersby saw a small boy pummeling a giant, who only hugged his head and kept yelling, “I won’t dare anymore!”—everyone found it amusing.

Niu Sanpa, carrying a bag of lamb, kicked Baozi and said to Tie Xinyuan, “Enough, a few blows is fine. No matter how much you hit him, he won’t feel it. He’s strong and reckless; if you want him to work for you, you should plan ahead.”

Tie Xinyuan, feeling aggrieved, handed Niu Sanpa twenty copper coins, then turned to settle accounts with Baozi, only to find him already happily munching on a flatbread, face full of bliss.

He touched the bump on his head, grimaced, and went into the shop to fill a huge bowl of lamb soup for Baozi.

While Tie Xinyuan talked with the eldest Niu, one giant flatbread disappeared, and the lamb soup was gone as well.

Baozi glared hungrily at the second flatbread and the bag of lamb on the table, his Adam’s apple bobbing like a wolf.

Niu Sanpa smacked Baozi’s head and scolded, “Why don’t you ever get full? That flatbread weighs five pounds, plus a bowl of soup—you should be stuffed. If you keep eating, you’ll stretch your stomach and need even more food.

If you dare to eat this bread and lamb, I’ll beat you. Take them home to your blind mother, that’s what you should do.”

Only then did Baozi seem to remember his mother. He lunged at the table, grabbed the bread and lamb, and vanished.

Tie Xinyuan wanted to say the work wasn’t finished yet, but thought better of it. He asked Niu Sanpa to help put the box on the cart, sighed, and dragged it squeaking home.

Though his head throbbed, his mood was excellent.

To do a thing, one must see it through to the end, best like a ring—only when all is rounded off does the job truly count as done.

He had brains, Xiao Qiao had skill, now all that was lacking was strength—strength he could control. Without it, he couldn’t claim a real team; adding Baozi would make the perfect ring.

Of course, if Baozi weren’t a fool, so much the better. But then again, if Baozi were a bit clever, with his physique, he could easily earn a position in the military. Word had it the Song army liked to recruit guards who were a bit simple, not sharp.

Dragging others down was bound to bring thunder and lightning.

That was a universally accepted rule in his previous life, true for any villain plotting mischief.

He pulled the cart into his yard, and the little princess, who was leaning over the wall, immediately cheered and called for Tie Xinyuan to look up.

When he raised his head, her mouth fell open in shock. Tie Xinyuan, with a big bump on his forehead like a unicorn, frightened her.

She pointed toward the Tie family house and asked if his injury was from his mother.

“My mother never hits me in the face; she uses a bamboo paddle on my backside. The bump is just an accident.”

“I thought so. Auntie is a good person.” The little princess said politely. So long as no outsiders were around, she called Wang Rouhua “Auntie.”

Tie Xinyuan smiled, “Your gift is ready, and it’s wonderful. It’ll let you shine at the Autumn Festival.”

The little princess didn’t seem excited, only murmured a reply, and went on feeding her puppy, not even glancing at the box Tie Xinyuan had dragged over.

He scratched his head. “Take your present when you’re ready, or Wang Jian, that wretched eunuch, will think I’m tricking you out of your things.”

The princess put down her puppy, leaned over the wall, and gripped the whistle hanging from her neck as she looked down at him. “Now that the gift is ready, can I still blow the whistle to call you?”

Tie Xinyuan nodded, “Of course you can, just don’t let Wang Jian know. I think that fellow is always looking for a chance to thrash me.”