Hearing this, Chen Yuanniang shuddered in the sunlight.
That jubilant old woman was the same one who had previously stolen their Song vegetable and later eavesdropped on them—their neighbor, whose maiden name was Sun. Everyone called her Granny Sun.
If one were to say Yuanniang’s grandmother was fierce, at least she only flared up when facing injustice. But this filthy old woman, Granny Sun, was purely disgusting. Not only were her hands unclean, but she also loved to stir up trouble and took pleasure in using her age to bully honest people.
Her nephew was Old Man Sun’s Youngest Son, whom Yuanniang had counted among the villagers while she was digging for wild herbs. Although he had a handsome face, his family had no land, and he was a well-known idler who relied on running errands to buy food for people in roadside inns and wine shops to earn a few scattered copper coins.
Even in the past when the Chen family was destitute, Yuanniang wouldn’t have spared him a glance, let alone now.
Becoming his wife? Who knew if he would one day send her to be toyed with by wealthy households just because he lacked money? There were precedents for such things. Recalling the gossip of her friends, Yuanniang’s face turned pale, but then she proudly relaxed her brow. Her grandmother was not someone who could be easily fooled!
Just as she was thinking this, Yuanniang heard a familiar string of curses. “Go have your pipe dreams in the next eight lives! You filthy thing, you don’t even weigh your own worth before daring to lust after my granddaughter! Pui! If you dare set foot here again to ruin my family’s luck, I’ll skin you alive, you base old whore!”
It wasn’t just cursing. Granny Wang held a broom made of bamboo branches, swinging it vigorously at Granny Sun and her nephew. She struck the handsome face the nephew relied on for a living until it was covered in red welts and scratches. He could only shield his head and face as he stumbled backward.
Her grandmother was as fierce as ever.
Chen Yuanniang thought with pride.
Granny Sun’s nephew didn’t dare resist. It wasn’t that he feared Granny Wang, an old woman, but rather because several brawny men carrying blades were standing in front of the Chen family’s thatched hut. One look at their lean, powerful chests told him they were all trained martial artists. They were staring at him now; if he dared to strike back, it wouldn’t be Granny Wang doing the beating.
For an idler, the most important skill was knowing when to back down.
He had no choice but to follow his disgraceful aunt as they were swept out of the house. The tea and fruit they had bought on credit were also swept to the ground, rolling into the dirt and sand.
This was truly a massive loss.
The aunt and nephew, having been thoroughly kicked out, happened to run into Yuanniang. The eyes of Old Man Sun’s Youngest Son immediately lit up.
What a little beauty!
His gaze swept up and down Chen Yuanniang, filled with undisguised scrutiny and greed.
Before he could do anything, the grandmother stepped in front of Yuanniang. With hands on her hips, she continued to point and curse at them, while simultaneously turning her head to scold her granddaughter, “Why haven’t you gone inside yet? Everyone is waiting for the rice to hit the pot.”
Chen Yuanniang immediately picked up the bag of rice and hurried to the cooking shed in the back, completely distancing herself from the farce.
By the time Yuanniang put the rice into the earthenware pot to boil, Granny Wang had returned victorious.
She brushed off non-existent dust from her clothes and snorted. “To think they dared come to the door to ask for a beating with so little worth.”
Having sent them fleeing with their heads in their hands, the victorious Granny Wang began pacing around to inspect the cooking.
“Why did you only put in rice?” Granny Wang frowned in dissatisfaction. She then went to the bamboo basket delivered today and picked out a piece of preserved meat weighing about two catties. The Wei family was indeed a wealthy household; they had sent preserved meat made from mutton. Among various types of meat, mutton was eaten by the wealthy, pork was secondary, and beef was the cheapest—though the government forbade the slaughter of plow oxen, making it difficult to buy.
Granny Wang rinsed the preserved meat with water and began slicing it. With knife skills honed by years of frugality, she sliced the meat as thin as cicada wings, yet she actually sliced the entire piece. Half of the meat was thrown into the earthenware pot to simmer with the half-cooked rice.
She wiped the cutting board and was about to pour out the water used to wash the meat, which made Yuanniang, who was watching from the side, frantic.
Chen Yuanniang stamped her feet in anxiety. “Granny, there are still oil slicks floating in that water! How can you pour it out? It would be so good for boiling wild herbs!”
Granny Wang didn’t bother with her, intending instead to dig up some radishes for a dish.
Seeing Yuanniang’s persistence, Granny Wang had to poke her forehead with a rough, calloused finger. “Stupid thing, does the house lack a basin of meat-washing water now? If you’re so reluctant, keep it for yourself and drink it like a treasure. Don’t bother me.”
Chen Yuanniang rubbed her forehead, puzzled. How could her grandmother change so quickly? Weren’t these frugal methods the very ones her grandmother had taught her?
Instead, Madam Cen, who was sitting and tending the fire, stepped forward and gently rubbed Yuanniang’s head, explaining in a soft voice, “Times have changed, Yuanniang. You must get used to it. In the past… the family did you wrong. From now on, days will get better and better. If we still act as we did before, people might look down on us.”
Madam Cen, whose face was sallow like a true peasant woman yet still retained a quiet dignity, sighed softly. She carefully smoothed her daughter’s hair and instructed gently, “Your grandmother is the most calculating of all. Just do as she says and don’t overthink it.”
Though Yuanniang still couldn’t understand the family’s “extravagant” behavior, she trusted her mother wholeheartedly. Moreover, her grandmother was the shrewdest person she knew. She nodded obediently but couldn’t help snatching the wooden bucket to take over the task of watering the plants.
Watching Yuanniang’s energetic departure, Madam Cen couldn’t help but chuckle and shake her head, her eyes kind and gentle.
She and her husband both had quiet dispositions; Yuanniang probably took after her mother-in-law.
But that was good. The world was unpredictable; even a woman should have some temper. She herself was weak and lacked her own opinions, and had suffered greatly for it. If not for her mother-in-law, the family would have been devoured by wolves and villains until not even the bone marrow was left.
She was bound by the Three Obediences and Four Virtues, yet she couldn’t help but hope that Yuanniang would not be too submissive. It was better to bully others than to be bullied.
After seeing Yuanniang’s bright and radiant smile, Madam Cen withdrew her gaze and approached her younger son.
“Are you tired? Have a bowl of water and rest.” Watching her younger son put down the wood-chopping knife and take the bowl to drink, Madam Cen used her sleeve to gently wipe the sweat from his forehead.
Chopping wood was a task far too strenuous for a seven or eight-year-old child like Chen Kuo Cang. But he was smart and had good aim; his first strike would hit the center of the wood, at least wedging the knife into the log. Then, he only needed to slam it against the stone underneath with enough force to eventually split it. It just took more effort.
Furthermore, not every piece of wood was thick; most were fallen branches that only needed to be cut into segments.
But he was too small. After chopping two or three pieces, he had to wipe his sweat and catch his breath. And sometimes he couldn’t help but injure himself; there were many pale scars on the back of his hand, many of which were from chopping wood.
Yet using this clumsy method and his tiny strength, over days and months, he had chopped a whole earthen wall’s worth of firewood, stacked neatly.
Madam Cen’s heart ached for him, and she couldn’t help saying, “The house has enough wood. Let’s stop, shall we?”
After drinking the water and resting for a bit, Chen Kuo Cang, having recovered his strength, shook his head. Though he had the tender face of a young child, his eyes were like those of an adult, and he spoke with great logic. “There’s only a bit left. Let me finish it. One must always see things through to the end.”
Even if we won’t need it anymore, he thought silently, his gaze falling on the neatly stacked wall of firewood.
Unlike Yuanniang, this was another stubborn soul, much like her husband. Madam Cen sighed inwardly. Her heart began to hang in suspense again; her husband had met with trouble precisely because of this stubbornness that sought to get to the bottom of everything. If Chen Kuo Cang remained a farmer his whole life, she wouldn’t have to worry, but now that the family had money, if he were lucky enough to pass the examinations one day, would he repeat those past mistakes?
Yet she couldn’t restrict her son and prevent him from studying just because of what happened to her husband. Such a rare opportunity—one couldn’t stop eating for fear of choking and ruin his future prospects.
Madam Cen, filled with her own worries, lowered her head and continued to silently tend the fire.
On the other side, Yuanniang was still watering the plants.
She wasn’t just casually watering the seedlings; she was doing it carefully, chanting in her heart, “This is water with oil in it! Veggies, oh veggies, you must grow fatter and stronger than anyone else’s. It would be best if you even tasted like meat. That would be perfect!”
Wuwu, just thinking about that taste made her mouth water.
Glimpsing her granddaughter cupping her lustrous little face and smiling foolishly at the seedlings, Granny Wang couldn’t help but curl her lip in disdain. Such a stupid girl who hadn’t seen the world, getting this happy over a bucket of water with oil slicks. There would be plenty of good days ahead.
However, regardless of the future, the meat-flavored vegetables Yuanniang had fantasized about were soon tasted.
In addition to simmering the preserved meat and dried cabbage with the glistening white rice, Granny Wang also made a dish of radishes stewed with mutton.
The mutton was, of course, the remaining preserved meat she had sliced earlier. It was salty and fragrant. Because the moisture had been drawn out, the meat was firm, and even the gamey smell had faded significantly. When stewed in the earthenware pot with radishes, the broth became milky white, with oil slicks shimmering on the surface, making one’s mouth water.
The radishes soaked up the meat broth, becoming soft and tender. A single bite released juices that were full of the aroma of mutton.
Yuanniang chewed every bite many times, savoring the salty fragrance of the preserved meat until it was thoroughly gone before she was willing to swallow. Paired with the excellent texture of the distinct grains of rice, she narrowed her eyes in pure joy.
In this world!
How could such a delicious food as meat exist!!
If only she could eat meat every day. But meat was so expensive, especially mutton. When she had gone to the county town’s market to sell things, she had peeked at the butcher shop; a catty of mutton cost 180 wen. It was so expensive that just looking at the wooden price tag made her heart ache.
Yuanniang pulled her mind back from such improper thoughts and cherished the last bite of rice and preserved meat, leaving not a single grain or drop of broth.
Not only Yuanniang, but even the biaoshi who traveled far and wide ate to their hearts’ content, leaving almost nothing behind. Granny Wang’s cooking was indeed good, but it was mainly due to the expensive mutton. In Bianjing, unless one was a person of high status, few families could afford mutton; they usually ate the cheaper beef to satisfy their cravings.
Having received such kindness from the host, these biaoshi were even more dedicated than before.
Because throughout the afternoon, many people came to propose marriage, not just from their village but even from neighboring ones. However, most were not from good families; they had almost all heard that Yuanniang’s family had suddenly come into money and thought that by proposing, they could get a share and have her supplement their own families with a heavy dowry.
Anyone with even a bit of family standing wouldn’t be so shameless.
After all, Yuanniang’s engagement had just been broken; one should at least wait a while, otherwise it looked too unsightly.
But these shameless families didn’t care about propriety or shame. Some even brought several brothers along, as if to intimidate them into a forced marriage. Fortunately, Granny Wang had the foresight to borrow these biaoshi from Madam Wei using some unknown excuse. Seeing those local thugs acting up, the biaoshi simply threw them out, sparing Granny Wang any further effort.
Seeing the biaoshi protecting the house and ensuring no trouble would occur, Granny Wang entered a room, took something unknown, locked the door containing all the compensatory gifts, and then left the house, not returning until dusk.
Meanwhile, the biaoshi were throwing out yet another scoundrel. The scoundrel brushed the dust off his greyish-blue trousers, put back on a hemp shoe that had fallen off, and stood up shamelessly as if nothing had happened. Only when he reached the corner of the earthen wall did he spit and curse under his breath, “What’s there to be proud of? One of these days, your grandpa here will set fire to this house, and the money will all be mine.”
He strolled away, but he had terrified Madam Cen, who was washing the dirt off radish roots behind that thin earthen wall.
Wasn’t this windfall just inviting disaster for the family?
Madam Cen was fraught with worry, unable to sit or sleep, yet she didn’t dare speak of these things to her son or daughter.
Fortunately, Granny Wang returned soon. Madam Cen hesitated but eventually told her everything before the evening meal, finally saying with a terrified face, “Mother, I am truly afraid.”
She covered her face with her large-knuckled hands, looking haggard as stray hairs—many already turning white—fell loose. “I’ve lived long enough, but what about Yuanniang and Xi Lang?”
Seeing her talk more and more out of turn, Granny Wang gave her a sidelong glance and said with composure, “What are you panicking for? I’m here.”
Granny Wang cut off Madam Cen’s wild thoughts, but the atmosphere remained low.
With Granny Wang there, the evening meal was still delicious, though the only ones eating with gusto were Yuanniang and the biaoshi.
Yuanniang certainly noticed something was wrong and knew these riches might invite disaster, but so what? Even if she were to die tomorrow, she should still eat well today, right? Otherwise, wouldn’t she be letting down the slaughtered livestock?
Alright, she was just greedy for the food.
Granny Wang and Madam Cen had known wealth before, and Chen Kuo Cang had been in the modern era in his past life; only Yuanniang was the most pitiful, having truly never had any richness in her belly. Therefore, one couldn’t blame her for loving to eat.
After the evening meal, Granny Wang cleared out Chen Kuo Cang’s room for the biaoshi to rest.
But the Chen family did not go to sleep.
By now, the sky was completely dark. The countryside at night was silent and vast, and everything in sight was desolate, making one feel an instinctive fear.
In Granny Wang’s room, various boxes, baskets, and hampers were piled up, even blocking the broken window covered in starch-pasted paper, leaving nowhere to step.
The four members of the Chen family still managed to squeeze in. Yuanniang sat on two stacked crimson lacquer wooden boxes, her toes swinging idly in the air. Granny Wang and Madam Cen squeezed onto a bed made of wooden boards placed on stones and covered with a thick layer of straw, while Chen Kuo Cang stood.
Because the window was blocked by the stacked boxes, Granny Wang unusually brought out a simple lamp made from a ceramic bowl that the family never used. Inside, a thin string snaked through, soaked in a thin layer of Hu sesame oil. She placed the ceramic oil lamp on a stack of wooden boxes half a person high. The oil lamp emitted a dim yellow light, casting everyone’s shadows onto the earthen wall behind them, flickering occasionally and causing ripples in the silent room.
Silence, and more silence, save for the constant chirping of insects outside.
Granny Wang stared at her granddaughter, who looked increasingly porcelain-fair and beautiful under the lamplight, and at her grandson, who had been precocious since childhood but had never been able to attend school, his potential wasted.
She pushed down her fluctuating thoughts and looked up. The dim light danced in her eyes, revealing a resolute expression.
Only to hear her say, “Move! We’re moving house!”
“We are going to Bianjing!”