Rheumatics

"...the weather also has been most unmerciful to my poor back. Every time it rains like that my rheumatics starts to act up. The old spot where I got kicked by that stupid donkey four years ago. Always, that's where it hurts the most."

"What a torture you must endure, sir!" sighed Qingqing. She was draped over the edge of the stall, playing absently with one of her hair pins. "But have you never tried to cure it? Can it be cured?"

The elderly dumpling seller gave a deep groan. "Little miss, whatever remedies they have come up with I've all tried. Ginger, boswellia, acupuncture--whatever teas, poultices, patches the doctors nowadays swear by. I've tried them all." Shaking his head, he turned to collect money from a customer and push a clean stack of bowls over.

"And none of them were at all useful? Nothing helped with your back?"

"Nothing!" He put down the bowls to throw up his hands. "Nothing helped! All lies, these doctors. They just tell you, oh, there's another treatment you can try, but it will cost you five taels, it's what the officials and the king himself takes...ah, these liars. Just trying to suck money from you. Physicians, I tell you, cannot be trusted." With a snort, the stall owner gathered up a handful of chopsticks and stuck them viciously into their holder.

"Physicians," repeated Qingqing under her breath. A sour expression came onto her face. "Indeed. Troublesome pests."

She roused herself. "What a shame. What agonies you must have endured, poor sir! Have you tried hot water? Soaking in a tub of hot water can relieve the pain, I'm told."

"Ah, that's exactly what I was about to say! That's the only thing that seems to help my poor back. Pay all that money to those physicians and turns out, simple hot water works best. Let me see, those dumplings should be done by now." He turned around.

Qingqing rapidly snatched her hairpin out of the pot of boiling dumplings. She raised large eyes limpid with sympathy. "What a disgrace. Those physicians are all liars after our money. To think not one of them could help you!"

Stirring the dumplings, the old man fished them out in a cloud of steam. "Exactly. I always tell my wife, don't bother with those cheats. Just heat a tub of hot water for me. Costs nothing and works best. If you're smart like me, you won't fall for their tricks."

"Well, I must be going. Take care of that back of yours, sir. I'll remember your words of wisdom."

She made a low bow and ran off, disappearing as swiftly as if she had been a wisp of the steam hanging over the pot.

Safely in an alley, Qingqing whisked out the hairpin from her sleeve. A plump dumpling was impaled through it. She popped it neatly into her mouth, blowing out steam and fanning her hand to dispel the heat.

"What a long-winded old ass. But he makes good dumplings." she mumbled shamelessly to herself through a full mouth. She gave the hairpin a last lick and wiped it on her sleeve before sticking it back carefully into her hair.

A clod of mud landed in front of her. Qinqqing sprang back warily, eyes darting around, and hurriedly swallowed the dumpling in a gulp. "Who's that! Come out, you coward!" she demanded.

"You're unbelievable," snorted Xiaohu, stepping out from behind her. "I watched you eat dumpling after dumpling right under Old Liang's nose without him realizing a thing, you kept him so busy chattering."

Qingqing folded her arms. "So it's you! You're a fine one to lecture me, you waif. As if you've never stolen anything before." She wiped her lips haughtily in case there was any grease on them.

"Six dumplings! I counted! They were steaming hot too! And you swallowed them almost immediately, without blinking an eye. You barely chewed. Just like how you downed that whole bowl of noodles at Yuanzheng's place."

Qingqing glared at him. "So?" She glanced suspiciously at the brown cloth draped across his chest, wondering if there were any hidden missiles inside.

Xiaohu unexpectedly knelt before her. "Teach me!" he demanded fervently.

Qingqing raised an eyebrow, visibly surprised. A pleased smile slowly spread over her lips. "Well, the little rat knows a master when he sees one, after all. Let me tell you, it's not everyone who can pull that off. Well, I'm not sure if you're intelligent enough to learn. Not to mention, I've never taken on a disciple before. Only because, of course, I've never bothered to." she hastily added.

Xiaohu shrugged. "Wait a minute. I never said I wanted to be your disciple. I just want to learn how to do what you did."

Qingqing lifted his chin with a finger. "Little rat, you're a fool if you think skill like mine can be passed on as simply as some grandmother's recipe for fermented bean sauce. Give me one reason why I should share such knowledge with you. Are you going to pay me anything, perhaps? Or perhaps, you can give me something to make it worth my time--"

Xiaohu looked sulky. "Fine, forget it. It's not such a big deal after all." he said airily.

"What do you mean, not a big deal? Do you know anyone else who could do that? Can Yuanzheng do what I just did?" demanded Qingqing, enraged.

Xiaohu laughed. "I thought you said you wanted to eat roast chicken last time. Did you change your mind for dumplings?"

Qingqing made an exasperated sound. "Of course not, idiot. I went to look for the blockhead, but his mother said he wasn't around. So I went to see if I could find it myself. I thought I would just get some dumplings meanwhile. For a snack. Six measly dumplings won't be enough to fill me up."

A glint came into Xiaohu's eyes. "I'll take you there, but you have to keep your promise. You said you would treat me to some."

Qingqing considered. "So I did," she conceded a bit grudgingly. "Well, consider yourself lucky. Lead the way, rat."