Virtue

By the time the sun hung in the southeastern sky, more than half an hour had passed.

During this time, the rattle-drum seller's stall steadily drew in parents with their children. Gu Ning'an, true to his word, dutifully told each customer the price of the rattle-drums.

In total, five rattle-drums were sold, earning fifty wen. The seller had instructed Gu Ning'an clearly before leaving: no bargaining—ten wen for one drum, take it or leave it.

So, Gu Ning'an made sure to inform the mothers who came to buy the rattle-drums, "This isn't my stall. I'm just watching it for the owner, and he said there's no bargaining."

To his surprise, the mothers were unusually straightforward, paying the ten wen without hesitation or complaint. Some even thanked him warmly before leaving.

At the edge of the morning market, the rattle-drum seller ambled leisurely toward his stall, carrying a package wrapped in yellow wax paper. His stomach full and his mood relaxed, he noticed his stall from a distance. His half-closed eyes widened slightly, his gaze filling with amusement.

"Scholar, not bad! In such a short time, you managed to sell five rattle-drums?" he said as he approached.

He handed the wax-paper-wrapped package to Gu Ning'an with a grin. "Here, try my wife's thin-skinned steamed buns."

Gu Ning'an thanked him, took the package, and handed over the fifty wen he had earned from selling the rattle-drums.

Clink, clink.

The sound of coins jingling pleased the seller as he deftly counted out fifteen coins and tried to return them to Gu Ning'an.

However, as Gu Ning'an was untying the string on the wax paper, he waved his hand dismissively. "Keep it. I said I'd watch your stall, not that I'd take a cut of your profits."

The seller pushed the coins toward him insistently. "Hey, hey, hey! We had an agreement earlier, didn't we?"

"Don't think just because I haven't read many books, I don't understand virtues like benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trust."

"We agreed: three wen for each drum sold. If you don't take it, what does that make me?"

"Don't worry—I'm not one of those stingy types who just says polite things for show!"

At that moment, Gu Ning'an opened the wax paper, revealing two large steamed buns, each the size of a fist. The rich aroma of meat and sauce wafted up, instantly whetting his appetite.

"Delicious! Just the smell tells me these buns are homemade," Gu Ning'an exclaimed before eagerly taking a bite. The juicy meat filling wrapped in soft white dough was utterly delectable.

"Hey, you're eating, but take the money too!" The seller looked bewildered. He had never encountered someone so determined not to accept payment.

Swallowing the bite of bun, Gu Ning'an gestured to the food and smiled. "Your wife's cooking is excellent. It's been a long time since I've had homemade steamed buns like this."

"Of course!" the seller beamed. "My wife is so virtuous—how else could she keep a brilliant man like me tied to the house—"

Before he could finish boasting, he scratched his head in frustration as Gu Ning'an once again steered the conversation away from the money. "Stop changing the subject! Just take the coins!"

Seeing how stubborn the seller was, Gu Ning'an finally accepted the coins. But before the seller could react, Gu Ning'an stuffed them right back into his hand. "These buns are exceptional. I'll pay fifteen wen for them—no work, no reward."

"This...?" The seller stood there for a moment, stunned. "What's going on here?"

Gu Ning'an smiled and pointed at the children playing in the distance. "Alright, if you can't figure it out, stop thinking about it. Focus on your business."

The mention of business instantly brightened the vendor's eyes. Picking up a rattle-drum, he began shouting out his sales pitch again.

Nearby, Gu Ning'an slowly and methodically finished the two buns. Once done, he returned to waiting for his first customer. Meanwhile, the vendor alternated between shouting his pitch and sneaking glances at Gu Ning'an.

Previously, the vendor had viewed Gu Ning'an with a mix of pity, thinking, 'Poor guy, might as well lend him a hand while I can.'

But now, his feelings had shifted to a genuine admiration for the scholar.

After all, which scholar didn't turn to calligraphy or fortune-telling only when left with no other choice? Gu Ning'an didn't even own his own writing tools, a clear sign of how impoverished he was. Yet, not only did he diligently watch the stall, but he also refused to take a share of the profits.

Could this be the so-called integrity of a scholar?

"Scholar, my name is Zheng De. The 'De' as in 'virtue.' What's your name?" the vendor asked, turning to Gu Ning'an.

"Gu Ning'an. The 'Ning' for serenity, and the 'An' for peace," Gu Ning'an replied with a smile.

Zheng De nodded thoughtfully. "A good name. Sounds scholarly."

"Your name is great too. A single character, 'De.' It must mean your parents hoped you'd grow into a virtuous man," Gu Ning'an said.

Zheng De let out a sigh and stopped shaking the rattle-drum in his hand. "Not exactly…"

"When I was young, I was quite mischievous. My mother used to scold me, saying I was just like my father. After scolding me enough, she ended up naming me 'Zheng De.'"

"But it's still better than my previous name. Before I was Zheng De, I was called… 'Donkey Dung.'"

Hearing this, Gu Ning'an chuckled. "Childhood nicknames often sound crude, but they're meant to ensure the child grows up strong. Your formal name, 'De,' shows your mother wished for you to have virtue.

She loved you deeply."

Zheng De froze for a moment. His eyes carried a distant look as he glanced down at the rattle-drum in his hand. "Yes, my mother loved me a lot. It's only after she passed that I truly understood…"

"My condolences," Gu Ning'an said softly.

Turning away, Zheng De wiped his face roughly with his sleeve before turning back with a smile. "It's alright. Mr. Gu's interpretation is spot on—very insightful!"

Before, Zheng De had referred to Gu Ning'an as "Scholar," a reflection of his attire and their similar ages. But now, he sincerely felt Gu Ning'an deserved to be addressed as "Mr. Gu."

At that moment, a commotion arose at the far end of the morning market. The crowd began to part, scattering to either side.

As the pedestrians cleared, a man came into view. He was of average build, dressed in coarse hemp clothing, with his sleeves and pant legs secured by hemp rope. On his left hip hung a tool resembling both tongs and shears, and on his right hip was a small basket woven from thin bamboo strips. The basket was roughly the length of an adult man's forearm.

This distinctive outfit marked him unmistakably as a snake-catcher, someone who made a living capturing snakes.

"Whoa!"

"Why is there a snake-catcher here?"

"Mr. Gu, you shouldn't stay sitting on the ground. Who knows if that snake-catcher's basket has venomous snakes in it?"

"What if one escapes? That could be life-threatening!"

As Zheng De spoke, he instinctively took a few steps back.

Gu Ning'an, however, waved his hand and smiled. "No need to be so afraid. He doesn't have any venomous snakes on him. The basket is empty."

Zheng De looked puzzled. "How does Mr. Gu know?"

"No hissing sounds. Naturally, there are no snakes," Gu Ning'an replied with a smile.