Bai Qianqian had spent her last two taels of silver on a large basket of meat and grain.
“That Madam Bai really doesn’t know how to budget,” one villager gossiped. “Didn’t she just hire people to repair her house? Now she’s going to town every day. Look at that full basket—she must be spending a fortune!”
“You’re right,” another chimed in. “With her size, she must eat a lot. The compensation money the Zhao family paid is probably all gone. Poor stepson of hers… living with her, who knows if he’ll even survive the winter!”
The villagers continued their chatter, their eyes fixed greedily on the contents of Bai Qianqian’s basket.
She ignored them, but seeing the bundles of firewood on their backs brought a sudden realization: she had been so focused on stockpiling food that she’d completely forgotten the most important winter essential—fuel.
Inside the house, Zhao Anyao heard her footsteps and opened the door before she could even call out.
“The date cakes sold quickly today,” Bai Qianqian explained. “Let’s get the meat processed. I’ll take you up the mountain to gather some firewood tomorrow.”
She shrugged off the heavy basket, her shoulders aching. Over the past half-month, her constant trips to town had barely reduced her weight, but her stamina had improved.
She no longer gasped for breath after a few steps, so a trip up the mountain to chop wood should be manageable.
Zhao Anyao remained silent, stepping forward to help Bai Qianqian unpack the grain.
The pork this time was a substantial purchase, costing a full tael of silver. If she hadn’t caught a ride on a bullock cart on the way back, she never would have made it home so quickly.
She planned to cure some of the pork for the winter, while the rest would go into sausages. The butcher had even thrown in the intestines as a bonus, impressed by her large order.
The two of them—mother and son—worked in a blur of activity, one slicing meat while the other washed the casings. They were too busy to even think about a meal.
The sheer effort of chopping the meat broke a sweat on Bai Qianqian’s brow, despite the early winter chill. Being young and inexperienced, Zhao Anyao couldn’t offer much help beyond washing the casings as instructed.
He settled for sitting beside her, fanning her with a small fan.
After mixing the minced meat with seasonings, Bai Qianqian washed the casings a second time to be absolutely sure they were clean before stuffing the sausages.
By the time she finished, the sun had dipped below the horizon. The boisterous shouts of Zhao Chengshuang from the neighboring house echoed through the walls.
“Let’s hang the sausages by the window for now,” Bai Qianqian said, her strength finally flagging. “We’ll deal with the rest of the meat later.”
After a whole afternoon of labor, she still hadn’t even begun the cured meats for winter. She decided to slice a bit of pork and stir-fry it with eggplant—a quick meal to fill their empty stomachs before she could even think about the rest of the chores.
“Mother, that Madam Bai is living high on the hog with our family’s money, yet she hasn’t shown you any respect at all.” Zhao Chengshuang’s voice trailed off as the savory aroma of meat reached her.
She swallowed hard.
“Stop provoking her,” Old Madam Zhao warned. “Or we’ll just end up paying her more in compensation. Have you forgotten the lesson you learned the other day?”
Old Madam Zhao had smelled the meat too. But the thought of paying more money and giving away another pair of shoes kept her greed in check. As much as she craved the pork, she refused to cross Bai Qianqian again.
Unfortunately, adults could show restraint, but Zhao Anyang was a different story. After a whole day of playing outside, he came home to the smell of meat and threw a massive tantrum.
He wailed and shrieked, demanding that his grandmother get him some.
The rest of the Zhao family, exhausted from a long day of chopping wood on the mountain, had no patience left for his antics. Zhao Laoda finally snapped, stripped the boy’s pants, and gave him a sound beating.
Ultimately, it was Old Madam Zhao who caved. Pitying her eldest grandson, she sliced a tiny bit of cured meat and stir-fried it with some cabbage so the whole family could have a taste of something savory.
Next door, Bai Qianqian and Zhao Anyao were enjoying their meal. The sound of the child’s tantrums wafted through the walls. Bai Qianqian glanced at her son and felt a wave of relief that he wasn’t a brat like Zhao Anyang. Otherwise, she would have a lot more to deal with.
“Eat more meat,” she said, scooping a large spoonful of minced pork over his rice. “We won’t be short of it from now on.”
The contrast only made Zhao Anyao seem even more precious to her.
Zhao Anyao had been eating with his head down, but when a spoonful of meat suddenly appeared in his bowl, he looked up in pleasant surprise.
Even though they’d been eating meat more often lately, he still cherished the extra portion, savoring every bite of the minced pork before finally setting down his empty bowl with a sigh of contentment.
By the time they finished, the sun had completely set. Fearing the meat would spoil the next day if it wasn’t cold enough, Bai Qianqian decided to cure it that night.
She lit an oil lamp, tossed the prepared spices and salt into a pan to roast, and then rubbed the fragrant mixture evenly over the clean strips of pork.
Once coated, she stacked the meat neatly in a clean wooden basin and covered it. As long as she turned the meat over once a day, it would be ready to hang in a well-ventilated spot to dry in three days.
After setting the basin aside and quickly washing up, Bai Qianqian collapsed into bed and fell fast asleep.
When she woke again, she found Zhao Anyao already up, keeping a watchful eye over the sausages she had hung the day before.
Since the two of them were heading up the mountain today and wouldn’t be back for lunch, Bai Qianqian had packed extra food.
They strolled leisurely along the field ridges. Aside from a few elderly women and some children playing in the village, the streets were deserted. It was obvious everyone else had already gone up the mountain to gather firewood.
Bai Qianqian and her son were considered late starters.
“Keep close to me once we’re on the mountain, okay? No wandering off.”
Bai Qianqian tied his pant legs secure before reminding him one last time. It was her first time going up the mountain too, but she had found a sturdy branch to use, tapping the ground ahead as she led Zhao Anyao upward, on the lookout for snakes and insects.
The path wasn’t difficult, kept clear by the many villagers who had already passed through. However, the climb was exhausting. By the time they were halfway up, Bai Qianqian’s shirt was soaked with sweat, forcing them to stop and catch their breath.
Gathering firewood wasn’t an easy task. The villagers knew all too well that wood was a lifeline in winter, so the mountain had been stripped bare early in the season. Any branch suitable for fuel had already been taken; there would be no scraps left for her to find.
Still, they ran into an acquaintance—Auntie Liu, the woman who had let her husband help Bai Qianqian repair her roof.
Auntie Liu had clearly been up early, as two large bundles of tied firewood already sat beside her. She looked surprised to see Bai Qianqian.
“What are you doing on the mountain this late? There won’t be much left to find, and you’ve got a child with you. Don’t venture too far,” she warned.
Auntie Liu harbored no ill will toward Bai Qianqian, especially since she had paid her husband’s wages in full.
“It’s okay, I’m just taking him for a walk. We won’t go far,” Bai Qianqian replied. Seeing several people already chopping wood nearby, she knew she’d have to find another spot.
After locating a quieter area, she told Zhao Anyao, “Just sit here and gather some dry twigs. I’ll go ahead and chop some wood.”
Her body felt heavy and clumsy, and she didn’t dare venture onto the steeper slopes. Instead, she could only chop at small shrubs. If the wood wasn’t dry, she’d have to carry it back and let it air-dry for a few days.
After a period of hard work, she managed to gather only a small bundle.
The meager haul left her feeling desperate, and her mind already began to wander toward the possibility of buying firewood.
By noon, Bai Qianqian used vines to bind her hard-won bundle of wood and dragged it over to Zhao Anyao.
He had only managed to collect a small pile of dry twigs. Seeing her approach, he reached into his basket and handed her the water they had brought.
“I spotted some wild yams earlier,” Bai Qianqian said. She had recognized the plants while chopping in the shrubs. “We’ll dig them up before we head back.”
She decided to prioritize the yams. As for the winter firewood, if she couldn’t find any more, she would simply have to buy some.