When Chen Ping'an arrived at the Iron-Locked Well carrying his twin buckets, he passed several breakfast stalls in Xinghua Alley. His stomach growled without warning, but with nothing more than lint in his pocket, he could only grit his teeth and stand in line for water. Three households were ahead of him, and just as his turn came, Zhi Gui suddenly stepped in, swinging a small bucket into place. The people behind them immediately voiced their displeasure. Though they stopped short of swearing, their words were far from kind—especially an old crone known as Granny Ma, a hunched and sharp-tongued widow infamous throughout the alley.
Granny Ma had two sons who had both achieved modest success, each owning a dragon kiln, albeit the smallest among the thirty or so in town. Even so, in Xinghua Alley, their status was enough to be considered lofty. Despite her sons' achievements, the old woman maintained poor relations with both her daughters-in-law, who had long since moved with their husbands to Taoye Alley, leaving her alone in the ancestral house. Among the younger generation—Chen Ping'an, Liu Xianyang, and their peers—Granny Ma was a terrifying presence: vicious with her words and notoriously stingy. In the depths of winter, she'd sooner drag the snow outside her gate into her own yard than let neighborhood children use it for snowball fights. Heaven help the child who plucked icicles from her eaves—she'd chase them down half the street with a broom, cursing all the while.
Back in the day, the only one who could put Granny Ma in her place was Gu Can's mother. But now that the widow had left town to seek refuge with distant in-laws, the old hag, who had only just begun to mellow, sprang back into the fray with newfound vigor, picking fights at every turn. And when she saw the maidservant of Song Jixin cut in line, she immediately unleashed a barrage of venomous sarcasm—low and biting, her smile twisted and cold.
She feigned idle chatter with nearby women, sneering, "Some young ladies finally get to show their faces and thread their brows, eh? Look at her, can't even walk with her legs together anymore. What a celebration! At last, she's earned the right to be called 'Madam'—no longer a lady in name but a mistress in fact."
Chen Ping'an's scalp prickled, but with Zhi Gui clearly in the wrong and years of neighborly ties between them, he couldn't bring himself to drive her off. After helping Liu Xianyang fill his buckets, he quickly hauled one up for her too, eager to escape the suffocating circle of gossiping women.
But Granny Ma grew even more incensed when the Song family's little maid had the gall to pretend she hadn't heard a word. The most infuriating opponent is one who won't take the bait—like shadowboxing, all skill wasted on empty air. In the past, Granny Ma had often quarreled with the seductive Gu widow. Though she lost more often than not, she always felt she improved with each bout. But this little strumpet from Ni Ping Alley? She never uttered a word, no matter the insult, and yet her departing gaze always left the old woman with an unbearable discomfort, a silent defiance that made Granny Ma grind her teeth in fury. She longed to scratch that smug face until it bloomed with welts—perhaps then the boys and young men of the neighboring alleys wouldn't be so bewitched by that shameless little waif.
Especially her own grandson—an idiot in everyone's eyes—but lately, even she had to admit the boy had truly gone mad, rambling about marrying the maid from Ni Ping Alley and punching holes in the heavens.
With the girl ignoring her completely, Granny Ma redirected her venom toward the poor boy.
"Tch. Useless little wretch," she spat. "Your parents died because of you, and yet you've still the gall to draw breath. Knowing you'll never have what it takes to win a wife, now you're crawling after someone else's maid like a cur in heat. You two really are a perfect match—filth with filth. Go on then, couple up! Breed little bastards who'll rule this garbage heap of an alley like mongrel kings!"
Chen Ping'an considered her words and was just about to put down his load when Zhi Gui, who had already set her bucket down, strode over in silence and slapped the old woman hard across the face. The force spun Granny Ma clean around, leaving her dazed. If not for the other women catching her, she'd have toppled to the ground.
Before the crone could recover, the girl struck again—another ringing slap.
"I've had enough of your vile mouth, you decrepit hag!"
Granny Ma staggered, her rage boiling. But whether by coincidence or subtle betrayal, the two women who had supported her seemed overly helpful—so much so that she couldn't break free in time. The maid delivered her third and final blow, bending her fingers and rapping the old woman's forehead with brutal precision.
"Open that filthy mouth again, and I'll tear your tongue out. Every word you spit will earn you a needle in the tongue."
Granny Ma was stunned into silence, unable even to curse. The maid turned on her heel and walked away briskly, only to find the neighborhood boy already holding her water bucket. She smiled and returned with him to Ni Ping Alley.
Before Chen Ping'an could speak, the girl cut him off.
"Don't thank me. I didn't do it for you."
He had no words. The girl, hands free, muttered to herself, clearly never intending to take the bucket back from the straw-sandaled boy.
Back at the Iron-Locked Well, Granny Ma sat wailing in the street.
"May lightning strike you, you cursed little bitch! Heaven must be blind to let me suffer like this. Why hasn't the sky opened and smote you dead already—shameless little slut!"
The girl walked lightly, her arms raised with strange, skyward gestures. Chen Ping'an, having known her as a neighbor for years, found nothing strange in this.
As they passed the breakfast stalls again, he noticed a familiar figure ahead. A petite girl in green was buying freshly steamed pork buns, the fragrance wafting warmly down the street.
The morning sky had quietly grown heavy with low, thick clouds, like a wealthy family's down quilt laid out to sun.
A thunderclap shattered the silence overhead.
Granny Ma sprang to her feet and ran home, her little bucket sloshing wildly, spilling most of its contents. By the time she arrived, there would likely be less than half remaining—perhaps because deep down, the old woman knew that if Heaven truly opened its eyes, the first bolt of lightning would strike her.
Hearing the thunder, Chen Ping'an looked up with curiosity. The sky didn't seem like it was about to rain.
The girl beamed and said, "My young master once read that in early spring, a golden-armored celestial general will strike the drums among the clouds, driving away evil to welcome the new year."
Chen Ping'an nodded. "Your master must read a great deal."
She sighed. "He's wonderful in every way… just a bit lazy, and he really shouldn't curse the heavens. I think that's not right."
Chen Ping'an, not one to speak ill of others, made no comment.
Song Jixin, their neighbor, had long held a strange habit: railing at the heavens like Granny Ma, accusing them of blindness and injustice. But unlike the old crone, he did it with flair—never cursing during snowstorms, thunder, or when the sky was painted with sunset clouds. He said those were moments when Heaven might be napping, and if he timed it right, he could vent his frustrations without being heard, both satisfying and safe.
Seeing Chen Ping'an remain silent, Zhi Gui casually asked, "You didn't go home last night. Did you stay at Liu Xianyang's place?"
He nodded. "We had guests at home. It wasn't convenient."
She suddenly asked, "So… have you met Mister Qi before? Did he say anything to you?"
Chen Ping'an frowned slightly. "Why do you ask?"
The girl grinned innocently. "Just curious. I ran into Mister Qi this morning while fetching water. He said he was out for a walk, and then he asked if you were home…"