Enduring Like the Plum in Winter

竹子 (Bamboo): 三

The Mortal Realm, Ruomei soon learned, was a wild place full of extremes. There were remote pine-covered mountains drenched in mist and silent forests of bamboo that swayed in the wind. But the human settlements were devoid of any such tranquility, and instead were a cacophony of sound, smell, and activity more intense than anything she had ever experienced.

Ruomei was especially fascinated by the marketplaces, where so many mortals interacted and went about their daily lives. There were performers, perfumers, artists, fabric-sellers, furniture-makers, cooks, and a never-ending stream of customers. Over time, she picked out a favorite location, and returned frequently to make her observations and learn from the mortals as Lisong had instructed.

On some days, Ruomei came to notice, the baker would be in a good mood, and on others he would yell at his son to hurry faster with the buns. The beggar children scampered through the streets with mischievous intent, and with a bit of luck and skill got away with their schemes. But one of the characters Ruomei had the most fondness for was the grandfather of the fruit-seller, who sat on his chair at the corner of the street and scowled at anyone who passed – unless he thought no one was looking, in which case he would smile at the young infants carried by their mothers or slip treats to his great-granddaughter when she came by for a visit.

Ruomei had visited the fruit-seller's stand several times, both visible and invisible. On days when she visited with Lisong, she usually only had time to attract a few passerby's attentions to the fresh produce with her magic, but on days when she was able to stay a bit longer, she liked to make herself visible and get to know the family better. The fruit-seller's wife referred to Ruomei as their lucky charm, since they seemed to always get more customers on days she came to visit – and Ruomei did everything within her abilities to make sure that was true. After all, her path of cultivation was to keep harmony and do good.

One day Ruomei came for a visit, however, she noticed there was a somber air about the fruit stand, and the wife did not greet her with her usual enthusiasm.

"How are you?" Ruomei asked her. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh, our daughter is very sick," the wife confessed, wringing her hands. "There's been an illness going around the town and she's caught whatever it is. I'm so worried for her."

Ruomei's brow furrowed in concern. "Have you taken her to see the doctor?"

The fruit-seller's wife shook her head. "We don't have that kind of money."

"Oh! I see." Ruomei's thoughts were already whirling with ideas for how she could help with her magic. She could transform a few of the peaches into gold ingots, or perhaps even just cause the doctor's horse to stop and refuse to move in front of the fruit stand the next time he visited the marketplace. But a shout pulled her from her deliberation before she could decide on a course of action, and she turned to find the table at the stall had collapsed, spilling the fruit into the street.

The fruit-seller and his wife cried out, rushing forward to reclaim the valuable produce, and salvage whatever didn't bruise. But the band of beggar children descended on the disaster like a swarm of locusts, taking advantage of the chaos to stuff the stray fruits into their pockets. The fruit-seller's grandfather did his best to bat them away with his cane, but would have lost his balance on his stool had not Ruomei caught him in time.

"Please be careful, sir," she said, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in his coat.

"Careful – bah! Those vagrants are robbing my family's business!" came the reply. "If my son were still alive, he'd give them a good beating!" The grandfather shook his cane again, and though his chair wobbled at the motion, he kept his balance this time.