Chapter 3 — I tore up the marriage letter, the father knelt for three days and three nights

Nhamen transports Mesopotamia salt. My heart jumped for a moment. That was Dai Ung's most lucrative position, each year the salt tax amounted to hundreds of thousands of taels of silver. In the royal court, who could intervene and who did not want to share a bowl of soup.

“So you came to me,” I said slowly, “not just because my shop is close.”

Bui Van smiled bitterly: "Chieu Ninh, I know you and Truong Dien ——"

“Don't mention that name in front of me.” I interrupted him.

He paused for a moment, looked closely at my expression, and seemed to understand something: "Are you two... really over?"

"He broke up, don't you know?" I ask the opposite.

Bui Van opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he just sighed: "I know about that letter, but Chieu Ninh and Truong Dien have troubles ——"

“His suffering has nothing to do with me.” I closed the medicine box and stood up, "The medicine cost is thirty coins, plus the bandage fee is twenty coins, a total of fifty coins, do you pay in cash or do you keep a check?"

Bui Van: "..." He spent a long time digging, took out a piece of scrap silver from his chest, and placed it on the table.

“There's no need to take it back,” he said weakly, “the rest is just a waste of money, tonight's matter ——”

“I don't see anything.” I put away the piece of silver, "but you must promise me one thing."

“What?”

"Wait until you recover, investigate the salt case clearly, not for Truong Dien, nor for the court, but for the people outside who are drinking my tea." I pointed outside the shop, "a porter at the port earns two taels of silver a month. When he can't buy salt, he can only eat light rice. Do you know what light rice with pickles tastes like?"

Bui Van looked at me, his eyes changed. It was no longer the flirtatious laugh of the past, but a serious look, carrying scrutiny.

"Okay." He said, "I promise you."

Bui Van recuperated for seven days in the small room behind my shop. During those seven days, every day I changed medicine for him, prepared medicine, and gave him food. After Manh Tam Nuong learned his identity, she was scared to death, but I reassured her - "Third Niang just pretend that you don't know, do whatever you want." The person Bui Van, if one ignores his status as a prince, is actually not hateful. He talks a lot, has a big mouth, likes to joke, completely different from the noble and noble gentlemen in my impression, he will help me chop wood to light the fire, will squat in front of the door to help Manh Tam Nuong pick vegetables, will play kickball with the children in the alley, being kicked until he is covered in mud.

"You're a noble man, squatting here picking vegetables, don't you feel embarrassed?" I tease him.

“What's the point of losing face?” He didn't raise his head, "When I was at the border, I even shoveled horse manure."

I suddenly remembered - the Tran Bac Hau palace forever guarded the Northern Cuong, Bui Van was fifteen years old when he went to the battlefield, and only nineteen years old returned to the capital to report. He carried that rough look on his body, truly different from the pampered young men in the capital.

“That's right,” he suddenly raised his head, “do you know what the outside is saying about you right now?”

“How do you say it?”

"It's said that after being divorced, you wandered around the streets and had to rely on selling tea to survive. It's very miserable." He paused for a moment, "Co Truong Dien also heard about it."

Movement in my hands Pause for a moment: "How did he react?"

“There was no reaction.” Bui Van observed my expression, "but I saw that his face wasn't looking good those few days."

“That's his problem.”

“Have you really given up?”

I put down the medicine pestle in my hand and looked at him: "Bui Van, if you have too much free time, go sweep the snow in the yard." He knew better than to keep his mouth shut and obediently go sweep the snow. Looking at his back clumsily sweeping the snow, I suddenly remembered something - Bui Van and Co Truong Dien were close friends, he appeared at my place, Co Truong Dien would know sooner or later. But so what? I am no longer the same Tham Chieu Ninh as before, the one running behind Co Truong Dien, cautiously looking at his face. On the seventh day, Bui Van's wound was removed. He moved his left shoulder a bit and said in surprise: "It's really close, Tham Chieu Ninh, your skills are good, even better than the medical staff in my army."

“That's because you're young and have a good foundation.” I gave him the last bowl of medicine, "Drink this bowl, you can go."

He took the bowl, didn't drink it, but took out a tar paper package from his chest and pushed it in front of me.

“Conductor salt.”

I was stunned.

“Fifty notes, the official salt guide of the Luonghuai salt transport yamen, each sheet can be exchanged for two hundred kilograms of salt.” Bui Van looked at me, "Didn't you say the porters at the port couldn't buy salt? These fifty sheets of salt are enough for you to exchange ten thousand kilograms of salt at the original price, you sell it back to those poor people at the import price, not making a profit but not losing either."

I stared at that pile of salt, a feeling that was hard to put into words arose in my heart.

“Where did you get it from?”

“Mine.” He smiled, "I have been back in the capital for three years, Your Majesty has given me many rewards, salt is part of it, anyway I don't use it, so I leave it alone."

“I can't accept it.”

“So it's like I pay for the medicine and accommodation.” He stood up, picked up the knife on the table, "fifty sheets of salt, in exchange for one of my lives, no loss."

He walked to the door, suddenly stopped, turned around and looked at me. In the sunset, his eyes were especially serious.

“Tham Chieu Ninh, you shouldn't be surrounded in a place like this.”

“So where?”

“Wherever you want to go.” he said, “you deserve better.”