By their third year in Nanyang, Qi Yu knew the shortcuts through every alley in Nanshi Market better than the Zizhi Tongjian.
He knew exactly which shop watered down its soy milk the least, which roasted the sweetest chestnuts, and which silk shop owner liked arguing with customers the most.
Every morning, while Qi Xiao was still leafing through memorials in the study, he had already slipped out the side gate with loose silver tucked away. When he returned, he carried oil-paper parcels in his hands and warm baked flatbreads against his chest.
Every time Chun He took the flatbreads, she would chide him for going to Nanshi Market by himself again and ask whether he could not take A Ping along. Qi Yu would break a flatbread in half, push one half into her hand, and hold the other between his teeth, mumbling that A Ping walked too slowly and would stop him from getting buns from the first steamer.
That morning, he slipped out again and returned with a kite as well. It was shaped like a butterfly, with two eyes painted on its wings. The workmanship was rough, clearly something from a street stall. He held it up in front of Qi Xiao.
"Man of the house, let's go fly a kite."
Qi Xiao looked up from the memorials, glanced at the butterfly, then at him. "It's windy outside."
"Wind is perfect for flying kites!"
"Last year, you got your kite caught in a tree. I had to climb up and get it."
"It won't get caught in a tree this year. We'll fly it by the river. There aren't any trees there." Qi Yu thrust the kite into his arms, then turned to rummage through the cabinet for outer robes. He found a thin, indigo cotton