“From today on, you’ll eat with me. Got it?” Bai Qianqian clarified the situation as Zhao Anyao continued to stare blankly from the bed. “Of course, if you don’t want to, you can eat with them—if they’ll let you.”
“This is your bed,” she pointed out, adding, “You’ll sleep here tonight with your own blanket. Don’t worry, I won’t hit you again. But if you don’t eat those steamed buns, I’m taking them back!”
Zhao Anyao let the rest of her words fall on deaf ears. He only processed the last sentence. Terrified she’d snatch them away, he immediately began stuffing the buns into his mouth in large gulps.
Fine, at least he’s willing to eat the food I give him, Bai Qianqian thought. He’ll be tamed soon enough.
When the rest of the Zhao family sat down for their evening meal, they noticed the two of them were missing. They considered Bai Qianqian thoughtful for not showing up to ruin their dinner.
Bai Qianqian made do with just a few steamed buns. Three buns did little more than settle her stomach, but she forced herself to control her appetite. She stopped eating and saved the remaining two buns for Zhao Anyao.
Zhao Anyao hadn’t slept on a wooden bed since his father was conscripted into the army. Now, wrapped in his blanket, he tossed and turned, unable to settle.
His young mind was a tangle of conflict: the steamed buns Bai Qianqian had brought were delicious, but he feared she would revert to her old self tomorrow. Eventually, sleep overcame his worries.
Only after the boy fell silent did Bai Qianqian struggle to turn over, the wooden bed creaking under her movements.
When she woke, the small bed was already empty. Opening the door, she saw grain spread across the courtyard to dry, with Old Madam Zhao keeping watch. It was obvious she was there to prevent Bai Qianqian from stealing any.
The sight of the old woman’s face first thing in the morning soured Bai Qianqian’s appetite. She shot her a glare and went to gather firewood for porridge.
She couldn’t afford to eat plain rice, so she planned to add extra sweet potatoes to make it more filling. After all, she had a lot to do today.
By the time Zhao Anyao returned with a back-basket full of pig fodder, her porridge was ready.
“Don’t go cutting pig fodder anymore,” Bai Qianqian said, seeing the heavy load on his small shoulders. “The pork isn’t for us anyway.” She worried the heavy labor would stunt his growth.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Old Madam Zhao snapped. “He’s a member of this family. What’s wrong with him gathering pig fodder for us? Or do you want him to be a lazy good-for-nothing like you?”
“Oh, so now you’re treating him like a grandson?” Bai Qianqian retorted. “You didn’t care when he was sleeping next to the pigsty every night. Since you didn’t care then, don’t you dare interfere now. He’s done cutting fodder. Whoever wants to do it can do it themselves! Otherwise, we’ll get a share of the pork when the pigs are slaughtered at the end of the year!”
Bai Qianqian knew better than to reason with someone like Old Madam Zhao. The mention of sharing the pork silenced the old woman, who could only glare at her, grinding her teeth in fury.
“Wash your hands and come eat porridge,” Bai Qianqian told Zhao Anyao, leaving him no room to argue. “Hurry up!”
“You’re staying home with me today to help,” she added, determined to keep him under her watchful eye so he wouldn’t sneak off to the pigsty.
After a warm bowl of porridge, some color returned to the boy’s face. He nodded obediently.
Bai Qianqian decided to build the stove early. She had never built one before and couldn’t ask anyone for help, so she had to figure it out by copying the Zhao family’s stove. She spent the entire day mixing yellow mud and stacking stones.
By the time the stove was finally standing, her back and shoulders ached with exhaustion.
With Zhao Anyao no longer cutting fodder, the two pigs in the pen began grunting and squealing with hunger long before dawn.
Old Madam Zhao, a light sleeper, was awakened by the noise. She threw on her clothes and went straight to the first branch’s door, pounding on it.
“Are you all dead?!” she shrieked. “Can’t you hear the pigs? Go cut their fodder now!”
Inside, Madam Lin, the eldest daughter-in-law, got up to dress, her face twisted with resentment. “What’s the point of bothering us? Don’t we have Zhao Anyao for that?”
“Enough! Just go!” Zhao Laoda snapped impatiently, before turning back over to sleep.
Old Madam Zhao muttered a few more complaints as Madam Lin emerged, then went back to her own room to catch a few more hours of rest.
For the past few days, the Zhao family had been rushing to harvest their crops, spending almost every waking hour in the fields. Madam Lin had it even worse, forced to wake up early every morning to cut pig fodder.
Every time she saw Bai Qianqian, her resentment flared.
“When is your younger sister coming back?” she asked Bai Qianqian one morning. “The third son’s wife is pregnant and won’t be back, and the second son, Zhao Chengwu, has enlisted. That leaves only my husband and father as the men in this house. Is Zhao Chengshuang waiting until after we finish the harvest to return?”
The more Madam Lin thought about it, the more certain she was that Zhao Chengshuang was doing this on purpose.
Why else would she choose the harvest—the busiest time of year—to visit her pregnant sister-in-law in town? A trip like that would take four or five days, and she was clearly just trying to slack off.
“Father and Mother are so unfair,” Madam Lin grumbled, “letting your younger sister take all those good things to Third Brother. Even Niuniu barely got any of those chicken eggs, yet Madam Shen gets them all.”
Madam Lin’s thoughts turned sour as she imagined her third daughter-in-law.
The woman is the only daughter of a scholar in town, she stewed, while I’m just a village peasant. Even the children I give birth to will always be lower in status than hers.
“Quiet!” Zhao Chengwen hissed.
Though he was known for being impulsive, he knew their father’s authority ruled the house. He quickly cut his wife off, thankful that Old Master Zhao was far enough away not to hear her complaining.
In contrast to the rest of the Zhao family’s frantic pace, Bai Qianqian’s life had been quite pleasant these past few days. Her main responsibility was helping build the new kitchen, which she did after every full meal. The stove was finally dry and ready for use.
Although the kitchen was still just a makeshift shed, it offered much-needed shelter from the wind and rain.
She had also taken the opportunity to seal the door that opened onto the Zhao family’s main courtyard and built a new one in the back. Now, she wouldn’t have to constantly gauge their moods or worry about them prying into her business.
For the first meal in the new kitchen, Bai Qianqian spared no effort. She kneaded the dough from scratch, rolled out the skins, and stuffed them with filling to make dumplings.
Zhao Anyao watched without blinking as each dumpling took shape in her hands. He wiped his mouth frequently and tossed more firewood into the stove.
When the water boiled and the dumplings were finally dropped in, Bai Qianqian covered the pot with a lid. Only then did he reluctantly tear his eyes away.
“Hungry?” she asked.
Zhao Anyao nodded, his guard completely down.
The boy has the heart of a child, she thought. He forgets the beatings the moment there’s food.
Still, it was a good thing. At least they wouldn’t live under the same roof as sworn enemies. Bai Qianqian was pleased with his change in attitude.
*
Outside the village, Zhao Chengshuang trudged back, her bundle slung over her shoulder. Unfortunately, she arrived just as the other villagers were returning from the fields.
“Isn’t that Zhao Siya?” several women asked, their faces etched with surprise. “What brings you back at a time like this?”
“My Third Sister-in-law is expecting,” Zhao Chengshuang replied awkwardly, her eyes darting around. “Mother sent me to bring her some gifts, and I stayed a few extra days. I just got back.”
She desperately wanted to get home.