Ji An’s words were like a massive stone thrown into a lake, stirring up waves of shock.
Grandpa Ji’s hand, which had been tapping his tobacco pipe, froze mid-air as he stared at Ji An in disbelief. “What did you say?”
Even Ji Song, who had been silently sorting through goods, abruptly looked up, his tone filled with disapproval. “What nonsense are you talking?”
Mrs. Wang and Mrs. Xue, who had been busy cooking in the kitchen, hurried outside upon hearing the commotion. “What’s going on?”
Both of them were observant and immediately noticed the soaked hem of Ji An’s clothes. “Oh, why haven’t you changed out of your wet clothes?”
Mrs. Wang tried to pull Ji An away to change, but Grandpa Ji stopped her. “Let him explain himself first.”
Ji Ning’s heart tightened.
Her brother, Ji An, was the scholar the entire family had scrimped and saved for, placing all their hopes on him. In a way, he represented the family’s only chance to change their fate. For him to suddenly announce he was quitting his studies was akin to dismissing all the sacrifices and efforts the family had made.
“Brother!” Ji Ning couldn’t help but call out, hoping to remind him.
But Ji An didn’t dare look up at them. He hung his head, his voice heavy and bitter. “I’ve been studying at the school, but my grades aren’t good. I fell behind again in the recent exam. Although the teacher didn’t say it outright, I know that my path in the Imperial Examination pursuit is likely to be difficult. And… and the expenses for brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones are quite high. Our family already has little to spare. Even if I can earn some money by copying books, most of it goes toward covering school expenses. Now, with the family struggling to make ends meet, my sister just recovered from her illness and needs rest, and the Summer Tax is looming… I… I truly have no face to continue draining the family’s resources.”
As he spoke, he grew increasingly despondent, his shoulders slumping inch by inch.
But Ji Ning instinctively felt something was off. In her original memories, Ji An had started his education at the village private school, where the teacher, an old scholar, had personally praised his talent. Later, when the teacher could no longer teach him, he had recommended Ji An to study at the government school in town. In his earlier years, Ji An’s grades had been quite good—nothing like the “difficult path” he was describing now. Besides, it was a clear day today, with no rain. How could the hem of his clothes be wet? It couldn’t be that he had simply fallen into a field while walking.
If he had fallen into a field, it wouldn’t have been just the hem of his clothes that was damp.
Unfortunately, Ji An’s words were so shocking that the family instinctively overlooked the inconsistencies in his story.
Grandpa Ji shot to his feet, his tobacco pipe nearly poking Ji An in the face. His beard trembled with anger. “What do you mean, ‘difficult path’?! Which scholar doesn’t endure years of hardship and study? Are you going to quit just because you failed one exam? Our Ji family has tightened our belts to support you, and you think you can just quit? Giving up at the first sign of difficulty—have all these years of studying gone to waste?”
Ji Song also put down what he was holding and walked over to Ji An, patting his arm. “An-ge, your studies are a family decision. Don’t worry about the money—that’s for the adults to handle. You just focus on your studies. Even if we have to sell everything we own, we’ll keep supporting you.”
Mrs. Wang remained silent but instinctively held onto Ji An, her eyes reddening. “Your father is right. We’ll figure out the money. As for your sister… your sister’s situation, I’ll think of something.”
She glanced at Ji Song, unsure if her response was appropriate. She believed Ji An was acting out of concern for his sister.
Everyone reacted differently, but their intentions were the same—they wanted him to continue studying.
Ji An’s lips moved slightly, but in the end, he said nothing. He simply lowered his head further and clenched his fists tighter inside his sleeves.
He felt heavy and powerless, almost suffocating.
Just as his breathing grew labored, he felt someone tugging at his sleeve. Looking down, he saw Ji Ning.
She was young, her family was poor, and they couldn’t afford good food. Malnourished, her cheeks were almost devoid of flesh, leaving only a thin frame and a pair of captivating, clear, and penetrating eyes.
She tugged at his sleeve but spoke to the rest of the family: “Elder Brother has finally come home. Maybe he’s unhappy because he faced some trouble at school. Let’s not talk about this for now. Mother, I’m hungry. Is the food ready?”
At the mention of food, Lan-jie, who had been silent until now, quickly chimed in: “Mother, hungry!”
Mrs. Wang hurriedly replied, “It’s almost ready. Let’s prepare to eat.”
The argument paused as the family began fetching bowls, chopsticks, and dishes. The kitchen was just a thatched shed, and they usually ate in the courtyard. Grandpa Ji had learned a bit of carpentry from a woodworker in his youth, so making a simple table for meals wasn’t a difficult task.
A round table, a few wooden stools, and the most enticing sight was the food laid out on the table: a dish of dried vegetables stewed with meat, a dish of minced meat stewed with tofu, and a large bowl of stir-fried cabbage. All three dishes glistened with oil, clearly made by frying a piece of pork belly first to render the fat, then using that oil to stir-fry or stew the vegetables.
Ji Ning’s mouth watered uncontrollably.
Heaven knew how many days it had been since she last smelled meat.
However, even though everyone was seated at the table, no one dared to pick up their chopsticks. It wasn’t until Grandma Ji, Mrs. Xue, picked up her bowl and first placed a piece of meat in Grandpa Ji’s bowl, then another in Ji An’s: “An-ge, you’ve worked hard at school. Eat more to nourish yourself.”
The glistening, tender piece of pork belly landed in Ji An’s bowl, wobbling slightly.
Feng-ge’er and Lan-jie stared longingly at the meat, their mouths practically watering onto the table, but neither of them dared to move.
“Eat, An-ge,” Grandpa Ji spoke up. “Studying taxes the mind. How can you manage without eating meat?”
Ji An’s hand trembled as he raised his chopsticks. The tips hovered over the meat, hesitating. After a long moment, as if making a firm decision, he suddenly picked up the piece of meat and placed it in Ji Ning’s bowl. “Third Sister has just recovered from her illness. She needs to nourish herself properly.”
This move took everyone by surprise. Ji Ning was clearly stunned. She looked up, scanning the expressions of her family members.
Mrs. Wang and Ji Song exchanged a glance, sighing helplessly. They didn’t know what had happened to their son outside, nor did they know what to do. They were just ordinary people—the only thing they could do was give him money. When it came to his studies, they were completely clueless.
Grandpa Ji opened his mouth to speak, but Ji An quickly lowered his head. “I eat well at school…”
He buried his head in his bowl, eating the bean rice and cabbage as if it were some exquisite delicacy.
Grandpa Ji’s words were left unspoken, stuck in his throat.
Ji Ning watched Ji An’s head, which seemed almost buried beneath the table, and her doubts grew deeper. But now wasn’t the time to say anything that might embarrass him further. She picked up her chopsticks, divided the piece of meat into four portions, gave one each to Feng-ge’er and Lan-jie, returned one to Ji An, and kept the smallest piece for herself.
She smiled at Ji An. “Brother loves me, and I love my younger brother and sister too. Let’s eat together.”
All the children got to eat meat, and the tense atmosphere eased slightly. Mrs. Wang couldn’t help but smile and quickly urged, “Alright, alright, eat up, everyone have more. Ning, don’t just look after your brother and sister—you eat too.”
After saying this, she picked up a piece of tofu and placed it in Ji Ning’s bowl.
Ji Ning took a bite of the meat first.
Hmm… it wasn’t as delicious as she had imagined, with a distinct gamy taste.
She had been here for some time now and had a rough understanding of the prices in this era. The meat Mrs. Wang brought back today was quite fatty and likely cost around fifty Wen per jin—meaning ten jin of grain could only exchange for one jin of meat, and this was despite pork not being very popular during the Northern Song Dynasty.
In her previous life, she had enjoyed studying food and had watched videos on a certain site about Dongpo pork, from which she had picked up some knowledge. Most pigs in the Song Dynasty were not castrated, which resulted in a strong gamy flavor. Su Shi once said, “The wealthy refuse to eat it, while the poor don’t know how to cook it.” This was because the wealthy preferred mutton, while the poor could rarely afford pork, and even when they did, they didn’t know how to cook it well.
Thanks to Ji Song’s work as a peddler, their family wasn’t entirely lacking in seasonings, but there was no helping it—the family was poor, and even cooking was done frugally.
Mrs. Wang’s cooking skills were slightly better than Mrs. Xue’s, but only by a little.
Still, her body was severely lacking in fat and nutrients, so even pork with a slight gamy taste made her mouth water.
Not to mention Feng-ge’er and Lan-jie. Lan-jie, who was only three years old and not very dexterous with her hands and feet, almost buried her entire face in the bowl. She refused to be fed, complaining that it was too slow, and instead wished she could use both hands and feet to shovel the food into her mouth.
But her table manners weren’t bad—she cherished the food dearly and wouldn’t waste a single grain of rice.
As she ate, Ji Ning pondered her next steps.
Based on Grandpa Ji’s attitude, he probably wouldn’t let her stay at home for long. She didn’t want to become someone’s maid either, so she had to find a way to earn money herself, or at least ease the family’s financial burden.
Her gaze fell on the dining table. She had read some time-travel novels before, where the female leads often made their fortunes through food. In theory, she could take inspiration from them—but making food required capital, whether for ingredients, seasonings, or even a stall like those used by other time travelers. All of it required money.
She had no money, and neither did the Ji family.
She needed to earn some money first before she could think about what to do next.
But figuring out what to do in this unfamiliar ancient era was a challenge…
After the whole family finished eating, Ji Ning helped wash the dishes and then returned to sit under the eaves.
In her hands was a bundle of hemp, which had been taken out of the retting pond a few days earlier. It should have been processed sooner, but the family had been busy running around for her illness and only now had the time.
The retted ramie was soft and fine, its outer skin already cracked, making it easy to peel away the fibers inside.
Except for Ji An and Ji Song, everyone in the family was peeling hemp.
Ji An was confined to his studies, while Ji Song was sorting his goods.
As she peeled the hemp, Ji Ning carefully observed Ji Song’s peddler’s box.
Tomorrow would be Ji Song’s first time going out to do business in a while. The most abundant items in his peddler’s box were needles and threads, which also sold the best. After all, these were everyday household consumables, and the risk of purchasing them was minimal.
Besides needles and threads, there were also some items pre-ordered by regular customers. People in the village rarely went out to town, spending most of their time working at home. Whenever they needed something, they would tell the peddler in advance and buy it when he returned next time.
Ji Song was just a small peddler, with a modest inventory—just two three-tiered boxes.
Lan-jie stopped rubbing the hemp after a while and moved closer to Ji Song, peering into the boxes. She whispered, “Dad, when can we buy cakes?”
Ji Song patted the little bun on her head. “I’ll buy you cakes when I come back.”
Grandpa Ji remarked casually, “Don’t spoil the child too much. What’s the point of buying cakes at a time like this?”
Ji Song still smiled good-naturedly. “Just to sweeten the child’s mouth a bit. No matter how hard life gets, we still have to live it, don’t we?”
Feng-ge’er, who was nearby, overheard and tilted his head, immediately saying, “Dad, I want a cricket jar!”
He counted on his fingers. “A couple of days ago, Jing-ge showed me his cricket jar. His dad bought it for him, and it’s so much fun.”
Jing-ge was the child of Second Uncle.
Ji Song didn’t say anything, but Grandpa Ji’s face fell. “Lan-jie wanting cakes is one thing, but what use do you have for a cricket jar? You’re just fooling around all day!”
Feng-ge’er was startled by him, his mouth quivering as tears welled up in his eyes.
Children these days didn’t have many toys. A cricket jar alone could make someone drool with envy. Whoever had a toy, no matter what it was, could become the king of the kids.
Author’s Note:
None