After breakfast.
Song You was already standing at the doorway, slinging the bedding roll onto the horse's back. He turned to bid the people behind him farewell:
"Many thanks for your warm hospitality, and thanks to the old gentleman as well for telling me of the road ahead. I shall be taking my leave."
"What are you thanking us for? If not for you, sir, our child would never have been saved. We're poor folk with no extra money, only a few copper coins as a small token—enough for you to buy some water on the road." The host took out a small string of copper coins and held it out to Song You, following after him, embarrassed and reluctant to part. "Please don't think it too little, sir."
"You had already invited the old gentleman. I merely happened to pass by and add flowers to brocade. I did one thing—how could I make you pay twice?" Song You naturally saw the reluctance on the host's face. Yet at this moment, he was unlike the Song You who had wolfed down food yesterday. He refused cleanly and calmly, without saying anything more. "Please take it back."
"Please accept it, sir."
"..."
As they were still pushing the money back and forth, the old gentleman's voice happened to sound from beside them: "This old man should thank Young Mister as well for his guidance."
"It was nothing. I dare not accept such praise."
The old gentleman's words had come at exactly the right time.
Song You was spared the trouble, while the host took the coins back naturally. With his attention diverted, much of his embarrassment faded as well.
For a moment, the host felt both ashamed and delighted, deeply conflicted, though little of it showed on his face. He followed