As a scholar, David Thompson naturally did not look kindly upon his aunt. As John Adams said: "Of the three unfilial acts, having no descendants is the worst." His uncle was not yet old, so he ought to marry a woman capable of bearing children to continue the family line. But as a junior, David Thompson could not bring up such public opinions in front of his uncle, so he could only try to minimize his encounters with his young aunt, striving for the gentlemanly openness of "if you don't see or know, you won't say anything wrong."

He didn't want to see his aunt, but Mrs. Bolton-Brooks seemed to sense his presence. Hearing footsteps at the door, she barked without even looking up, "What are you standing there for? Hurry up and help me catch this chicken! If you delay the birthday banquet that Master Yang ordered, we'll be in big trouble!"

"Ah—ah!" David Thompson shivered, only then noticing that his young aunt was holding a sharp knife in one hand, crouched and facing off with a big rooster by the wall. The rooster clearly sensed its doom, raising its comb, stretching its neck, clucking and darting left and right, trying to break through Mrs. Bolton-Brooks's five-fingered blockade. But Mrs. Bolton-Brooks was not one to give up easily; she crouched low, her shapely hips raised, and even as her arms—exposed by rolled-up sleeves—were pecked bloody by the rooster, she fought on without retreat.

Seeing this, David Thompson pushed open the courtyard gate. He gathered up the hem of his long robe, tucked it into his chest, and with a few quick steps, rushed forward to pin the rooster to the ground. Mrs. Bolton-Brooks saw the swift, practiced movements—so unlike the old folks at home—paused in surprise, and cried out, "Xuguan, I thought it was your uncle coming back! Put it down, put it down, how can a scholar do such rough work? Heaven will punish us..."

As she spoke, she snatched the "prisoner" from David Thompson's hands, and with light, quick steps, darted over to the pit she had dug in the yard. With slender fingers, she hooked the rooster's neck under its wing, gripped the wings and neck together, and with a deft motion of her other delicate hand, ended the rooster's life cleanly.

With a "puff," blood spurted out, landing right in a clay basin in front of Mrs. Bolton-Brooks. In moments, the rooster was bled dry. Mrs. Bolton-Brooks tossed it into the pit, then reached for another bamboo cage holding chickens. The poor rooster, not knowing its time was up, was still struggling in the pit, stretching and kicking.

"Xuguan, help yourself to some water, don't be shy. The Yang family at Shibalidian is holding a birthday banquet, and your uncle is in charge of the food and drink. He went out early to procure fresh ingredients and should be back soon. No classes at the academy today? Or did Old Master Yang go out drinking again and leave you all unattended...?"

Mrs. Bolton-Brooks chatted as she slaughtered chickens, her hands moving swiftly. In no time, there were already four corpses in the pit.

"My father came back and asked me to bring some mushrooms and dried beef over," David Thompson couldn't bear to hear his aunt continue to slander Old Master Yang, so he interjected quietly.

"That's great, I was just worried about not having enough dishes. It's already autumn—where can I find so many fresh ingredients?" Upon hearing this, Mrs. Bolton-Brooks stabbed the sharp knife into the ground beside her, jumped up, and hurried toward the mount David Thompson had tied outside the gate.

"There are also four raw cowhides, untanned. My father asked me to bring them to uncle..." David Thompson said as he untied the gifts from the mount's back. The big blue-and-white mule, frightened by the smell of blood on Mrs. Bolton-Brooks's hands, snorted and tried to back away.

"Weren't there just two? How come there are four?" Mrs. Bolton-Brooks asked in surprise, but before David Thompson could explain, she clapped her hands and said, "Ha! Perfect! Yesterday I visited Old Liu, the herbalist, and his family was fretting over the government's demand for raw hides. I brought him help in his hour of need, and took the chance to get back at him for the time your uncle asked him for medicine in the spring!"

With that, she wiped her bloody hands on her black apron, grabbed two rolls of cowhide, and dashed off.

David Thompson could only laugh and shake his head, left behind to clean up the mess for his aunt. After gathering the chickens from the pit and picking up the clay basin of chicken blood to take to the kitchen, he heard a shrill laugh outside—the business was done, and his aunt was already back.

"This won't do, you're a scholar, you shouldn't be doing rough work. If Heaven finds out, I'll be punished! Put it down, put it down!" Mrs. Bolton-Brooks shouted, snatching the basin from his hands. She straddled a stool, wiped her sweat with her sleeve, and panted, "That damned Old Liu's wife! I brought her the hides and saved her whole family, and she still had the nerve to haggle with me. I got angry and turned to leave, and didn't she come running after me, crying and begging? Ha! One hundred and fifty meat coins, not a single cash coin (Note 1) did I take!"

With that, she untied a brand-new hemp pouch from her waist, weighed it in her hand, and it jingled.

"One hundred and fifty meat coins? And not a single cash coin?" David Thompson's eyes widened in disbelief. His father was a merchant, and he often helped with the accounts. According to the Sui dynasty's rates, three cash coins could buy half a dou (Note 2) of coarse rice. Even with the new emperor's white coins, a raw hide wouldn't fetch fifty cash coins. Trading two raw hides for one hundred and fifty meat coins was outright profiteering. To call it "helping in a time of need"—only his aunt could say that with a straight face.

Seeing her nephew's expression change, Mrs. Bolton-Brooks immediately "understood" the situation, reluctantly untied the money pouch, and muttered in a mosquito-like voice, "Your father traveled far to trade goods beyond the border, so of course he should get his capital back. Hides are cheap out there, and these are untanned—look big, but not very useful. I'll give you twenty meat coins, is that enough?"

Seeing David Thompson's face slowly darken with anger, Mrs. Bolton-Brooks's tone grew colder: "Fine, I'll make it thirty, but any more and it'll hurt family relations!"

"Keep twenty for your cosmetics, and give the rest to Xuguan!" A cold voice came from the doorway, startling both Mrs. Bolton-Brooks and David Thompson.

They looked up to see Michael Bolton leaning in the doorway, carrying a basket of freshly sprinkled greens and a basket of large blocks of tofu, panting heavily.