Lao Fu woke up to someone disturbing him. The person was scratching his calloused, stinky feet with some straw they had apparently found somewhere. Lao Fu sat up in disgust; he hated being woken this way.

  He was squatting on the ground, his left hand supporting his monkey-like head as he stared intently at Lao Fu, while his right hand held the straw. His body was very thin, but his hands and feet were rge. A pair of prominent ears stood firmly on either side of his head. If Lao Fu hadn't been fully awake, he would have surely mistaken him for Mo Bai. But he wasn't Mo Bai. Though he resembled him in shape, his facial features were fundamentally different. His eyes were retively rge, whereas Mo Bai's were small; his mouth was wide, while Mo Bai's was small; he was very short, while Mo Bai was tall. His hair was very short, just long enough to be styled into a topknot, with a red silk thread neatly wrapped around it. He wore a green open-front jacket on top and thick blue trousers tucked at his ankles, paired with red single-strapped shoes with a curved toe. He looked like no more than a ten-year-old child.

  Lao Fu tucked his stinky feet away, sitting cross-legged on the rickety bed, his eyes fixed intently on the newcomer. "Who are you?"

  "I'm the one who came to see you," the child replied matter-of-factly, offering a mischievous smile.

  Lao Fu was taken aback. He threw off the worn-out quilt, stood up, and walked over to the iron pilr. From behind the bars, he asked, "Do you know me?"

  "I do," the child replied with an innocent grin, waving the straw in his hand. "You're the most famous tailor in all of the capital."

  Lao Fu's gaze shifted to the red braided string around the child's neck, a carefully woven three-tone cord, gradually transitioning from dark to light red. The craftsmanship was impeccable; every strand was uniform, seamlessly blending, making it impossible to distinguish one from the other with the naked eye. Lao Fu couldn't help but admire the exquisite skill of the person who had made it.

  But what puzzled him the most was the object hanging from the red cord—a simple wooden spoon. It wasn′t made of jade, nor was it gold or silver. It was just an ordinary spoon, worn down by time. The handle was upright, and the spoon's bowl hung down, the entire piece glistening with a greasy, dark sheen, suggesting it had been around for a very long time.

  Lao Fu's mind raced with questions. Why would a child wear such a strange ornament? And more importantly, why would they wear it with such care and precision? The spoon felt like it held some deeper significance—one that eluded him.

  "Who made this for you?" Lao Fu asked, his curiosity piqued.

  "I did it myself," the child said confidently.

  Lao Fu was taken aback. Such an intricate red string was made by this child? He was doubtful.

  "How old are you?" Lao Fu asked, his eyes still fixed on the red string and the spoon hanging from it.

  "Eleven!" the child said, chuckling with a high-pitched voice, two thumb-sized dimples deepening on his face.

  "Why did you come to see me?" Lao Fu was still confused, as he didn′t recognize the child standing before him.

  The child smiled cutely. He turned around and pulled out a food box from behind. "I'm here to bring you some food." The box was a special rectangur shape, not rge, and divided into two yers. The top was coated in red cquer, with a ndscape painting that couldn't quite be named. The workmanship wasn′t fine, but it was still somewhat unique.

  Food delivery? Lao Fu was taken aback. He wasn’t reted to this child, yet the child came to see him and bring him food. Lao Fu didn′t recognize the child, but still felt a certain warmth. After all, the child was the first to visit him. He sighed, extending his hand to open the food box.

  The child quickly moved the food box back, pcing it just out of reach of Lao Fu, even when he stretched out his hand. Lao Fu was stunned and didn′t understand the child′s action.

  "Your mother must have taught you when you were little not to take other people's things, right?" The child said seriously, with a smile still on his youthful face.

  "Mother," Lao Fu snorted inwardly. He didn’t even know what a mother looked like. He had no mother. He was an orphan.

  "You didn′t speak, so I guess you agree with me. Alright then," the child said, dropping the straw he had been holding. He crossed his arms over his chest and said seriously, "If you agree to accept me as your apprentice, I'll give you all the food in this box."

  It turned out the child wanted to be his apprentice. Lao Fu found it amusing. He was an adult; why would he do something for a box of food? He couldn’t help but ugh out loud.

  The child suddenly ughed too. He plopped down on the ground, pcing the food box between his legs, and slowly opened the lid with an elegant gesture.

  Lao Fu stopped ughing, and his face darkened in an instant.

  "Can you start thinking about accepting me as your apprentice now?" the child said as he happily ate the mung bean cake taken from the food box.

  After a moment of silence, Lao Fu finally spoke, "Alright, I agree to take you as my apprentice."

  The child wiped his mouth, which was covered in crumbs, and happily said, "I knew you would agree." His face once again showed that innocent and cute smile, but Lao Fu no longer found the child cute at all.

  "Since you agreed, then make a handprint." The child took out a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to Lao Fu. On the paper, there was a simple, crooked line of text:

  "Lao Fu is willing to take Er Duo as his apprentice."

  It turned out that the child's name was Er Duo. Such a strange name, but he was quite a clever little rascal, Lao Fu couldn't help but curse inwardly. He stretched out his left hand, dipped it in red oil, and forcefully pressed it onto the paper.

  (T/N: 耳朵; ěrduǒ means ear).

  The child excitedly and carefully slid the food box through the iron bars to Lao Fu, stood up, dusted off the dirt on his clothes, and said, "Great, Master. Enjoy your meal. I'm leaving now."

  Master, Lao Fu could only smile bitterly. He never imagined that one day he would be tricked by a child.

  The child picked up the straw on the ground, waved it around, and skipped away.

  "What do you do?" Lao Fu suddenly realized that he had forgotten to ask the child about his identity.

  The child's voice gradually faded as he moved further away from the cell, but Lao Fu still clearly heard his words.

  "I'm a beggar."