Da‑Wa scratched his head. “Little Uncle, I used to deliver meals too.”
Shen Xihe glanced behind him. “You came alone?”
Da‑ Wa thought: it’s just one basket of food; does it need eight people to carry? “Of course. Little Uncle, eat quickly—it’s still warm.”
Da‑Wa was a year older than Shen Xihe. Back when they studied at the village school, Madam Zhou had told Da‑Wa to take good care of his little uncle.
The two had a good relationship, though Da‑Wa’s studies weren’t strong, so he hadn’t continued.
From the time Shen Xihe entered the academy until now, Da‑Wa had delivered meals for six years. Only this year, when the fields were busy, had Gu Xiao taken over.
Seeing Shen Xihe still dazed, Da‑Wa urged, “Little Uncle, eat!”
Shen Xihe’s chest felt tight. He remembered—it was he who had told Madam Zhou not to let Gu Xiao come. Now everything was back to how it had been, yet he felt no joy at all.
Da‑Wa called again, “Little Uncle?”
Shen Xihe came back to himself. “Did your grandmother say why she sent you?”
“The sun is too strong at noon. I don’t mind the heat, so I’m delivering again.” Da‑Wa thought it was just tiring. “Little Uncle, eat.”
Shen Xihe lifted the bowl, hesitated. “Your little aunt…”
Da‑Wa, pure‑hearted, didn’t catch the hidden meaning. “Eh?”
Shen Xihe pressed his lips. “I didn’t want her to come because of the heat and the hardship of the road—not because I didn’t want her. I’m telling only you. You mustn’t tell anyone else.”
He thought: as long as Da‑Wa explained it to Gu Xiao, she wouldn’t be hurt.
Da‑Wa said firmly, “Don’t worry, Little Uncle. I won’t tell anyone!” He hadn’t studied much, but he knew that a promise must be kept.
Shen Xihe asked, “You truly remember?”
“Rest assured, I remember!” After Shen Xihe finished eating, Da‑Wa picked up the basket and headed home. Since Little Uncle told him not to say, he wouldn’t—he wouldn’t even tell Grandma.
Shen Xihe watched Da‑Wa’s departing figure and sighed. Chen Ningyuan had also finished eating. He hooked an arm around Shen Xihe’s shoulder. “Brother Xihe, wasn’t that your nephew?”
Shen Xihe gave a slight nod.
Chen Ningyuan asked, “Why isn’t your younger sister delivering today?”
Shen Xihe replied, “She won’t come today, nor tomorrow. She won’t come again.” He shrugged off Chen Ningyuan’s hand and walked straight toward the academy.
Chen Ningyuan called out, hurrying after him. “Why?”
Shen Xihe looked him in the eye and said, word by word, “No reason.”
Meanwhile, Da‑Wa returned home from the county. Madam Zhou came out to greet him. “Was it hot?”
Da‑Wa said, “I walked in the shade. Not hot.”
Madam Zhou had been hoping Shen Xihe would send a message—either to her or to Gu Xiao. She worried Gu Xiao might feel hurt. “Did your little uncle say anything?”
Da‑Wa remembered Shen Xihe’s words: don’t tell. So he said, “Little Uncle didn’t say anything.”
Madam Zhou sighed. “Ah, go eat.”
Gu Xiao was in the west room polishing fan ribs. Without fieldwork, she had plenty of time to finish the handles. Wooden handles were heavy and sturdy, but not as clear and flexible as bamboo.
Gu Xiao thought of checking the back mountain. She went out and asked Madam Zhou, “Mother, is there bamboo on the back mountain?”
Madam Zhou: “Yes. Why do you need bamboo?”
In Shangyang Village, some people wove bamboo baskets and sold them in the county for two coins apiece.
Only Eldest Brother knew how, but weaving baskets was laborious and slow, so he rarely did it.
Gu Xiao said, “I want to try weaving baskets. Grass stalks can’t be used now. I have to find a way to earn money.”
Madam Zhou didn’t know what to say. Gu Xiao was still thinking of Third Brother. Her mouth opened and closed. “Go look if you want. The family doesn’t rely on you for that little money. If we don’t eat meat, then we don’t eat. We’ve managed for years without it.”
Gu Xiao said, “Even if I don’t eat, I want you to. Mother, I’ll go out and be back soon.”
She took a hatchet. Many people were on the mountain—picking wild greens, digging bamboo shoots. Shen family’s eldest and second daughters also went to dig shoots, to pickle and save for winter.
The mountain’s bamboo forest was dense, with stalks decades old and fresh green shoots. Bamboo was precious—used for fans, umbrellas, even paper. Seeing the vast grove, Gu Xiao’s eyes lit up. She chose an old bamboo stalk, chopped it into sections, and placed them in her basket. The bamboo hadn’t been dried yet, still full of moisture. To make fans, she would have to wait a few days.
Gu Xiao carried the bamboo back, returned to her room, and continued working on wooden‑handled fans. Only when night fell did she put everything away.
Early that morning, Old Master Shen had gone out with Second Brother to look for work, and they only returned in the evening.
As soon as he stepped inside, Old Master Shen pulled out his pipe, rolled some tobacco, and sat on the threshold, puffing absent‑mindedly.
Madam Zhou’s heart sank. She looked at Shen Erlang, whose face was grim. “Mother, we didn’t find any work.”
There was usually work at the docks—carrying sacks for ten copper coins a day. In past years, once spring planting was done, Old Master Shen and Second Brother would go to the docks for labor. But this year, for some reason, no ship needed workers.
The family relied on that money. Shen Xihe’s academy stipend was two taels of silver a year. Tomorrow he would go to the provincial capital, and everywhere required money. Madam Zhou felt as though the sky was collapsing. “Old man, tomorrow try somewhere else.”
Old Master Shen was now over fifty. Years of heavy labor had left his back slightly stooped. Squinting, he said, “We’ve asked everywhere. In May there’ll be corvée labor. Someone from our family must go.”
That meant a month’s delay—road building, canal digging, all back‑breaking work. If they had silver, they could pay to avoid it. But the family had none.
Madam Zhou stood beside him, lowering her head to wipe the corner of her eye.
Madam Chen sighed softly. The whole family supported Shen Xihe alone. Everything they could spare had already been given. If they couldn’t earn even a single coin in the future, they couldn’t just smash pots and sell iron.
Madam Li looked at her husband and touched her belly. Er Ya stood beside her, whispering, “Mother.”
Gu Xiao remembered this part of the story.
The Shen family couldn’t find work and then faced corvée labor. For the sake of one tael of silver, Old Master Shen substituted for someone else and broke his leg. He refused to spend money at the clinic and endured the pain until Shen Xihe finally forced him to go. But too much time had passed. The doctor could do nothing. Old Master Shen lost the use of a leg for one tael of silver. Shen Xihe later rose to official success but always regretted this.
Gu Xiao thought: if she didn’t know, fine. But since she did, she couldn’t let Old Master Shen break his leg. She tugged Madam Zhou’s sleeve. “Mother, if nothing else works, we can push the cart to the county and sell food.”
“There are stalls selling pancakes—plain ones for one coin, meat ones for two. We can make food to sell!” Gu Xiao smiled at Madam Zhou. “And I’m here too. I can eat less, so Husband can study in peace.”
Madam Zhou’s heart settled. She wasn’t so panicked anymore. She looked at Gu Xiao. “You’re still young. Business isn’t so easy.”
Gu Xiao said, “Mother, I’ve sold cricket cages before. I’m not that young. We already have a cart. Let’s try. If we don’t try, how will we know it won’t work?”
Madam Li’s chest warmed. They couldn’t just do nothing. If they didn’t try, they’d earn nothing. “Mother, let’s give it a try. If it doesn’t work, we’ll come back.”
Madam Chen trusted Gu Xiao’s words most. She had once thought tassels wouldn’t sell. “Mother, let’s just try.”
Madam Zhou pointed at Madam Chen’s nose and scolded: “All of you only know how to talk. Selling food requires buyers to make money. Do you even know your own worth?”
Madam Chen and Madam Li flushed with embarrassment. Gu Xiao rubbed her chin. “Mother, do you think my cooking tastes good?”
Madam Zhou remembered pig’s feet stewed with soybeans, braised pork, stewed ribs—all wonderfully fragrant. She raised her brows. “You’ll do it?”
Gu Xiao said, “I can only give ideas. The big decisions are yours. I’m not capable.”
Madam Zhou snorted. “Nonsense. What do I know?”
Gu Xiao replied smoothly, “You’re the backbone. With you here, we all feel secure.”
Madam Zhou almost laughed. “Wait.”
Old Master Shen took another puff on his pipe, watching Madam Zhou go into the east room. She moved the third jar in the corner, took out a money pouch. She stroked it carefully, then opened it. Inside were two silver pieces—three taels in total—and a string of copper coins, one hundred and thirty. There was also a smaller string, given by Gu Xiao.
Madam Zhou took out the larger string, tied the pouch again, and put it back. Business needed capital. The three taels couldn’t be touched; only these coins could be used. She came out of the room. “Xiao Xiao, take this money.”
Gu Xiao was startled. “Mother, me?” She only wanted to give ideas, not take the work upon herself. She didn’t want the money, nor the labor.
Madam Zhou’s face was stern. “None of them understand anything.”
Gu Xiao said, “I understand even less. Father and Eldest Brother go out often, meet more people. They know where things are cheaper. Mother, just let me think about what to sell, all right?”
Madam Zhou couldn’t resist Gu Xiao’s way of speaking. “Fine, fine, you.”
Madam Chen and Madam Li both breathed easier. Since marrying into the family, they had never once held the money. It was best if Gu Xiao didn’t want it.
Madam Zhou said, “Enough. Eat first. We’ll talk after.”
With Gu Xiao there, Madam Zhou no longer worried. Even the fortune‑teller had said Xiao Xiao’s fate was good, matched with Third Brother.
After dinner, the family sat together discussing until late at night. The next day, Shen Erlang took two nephews to the county. By noon, Da‑Wa went to deliver Shen Xihe’s meal.
They set up a small stall at a street corner, selling spring pancakes. A thin layer of pancake was spread with sauce—fragrant and spicy, though he didn’t know how it was made. After the sauce, they added cabbage and tofu. Today they had only prepared that. Auntie said bean sprouts, eggs, shredded meat—anything could be rolled inside.
One pancake cost one coin—hot and delicious. Buyers were plenty.
Shen Xihe came out of the academy and saw Da‑Wa grinning foolishly. He thought: perhaps yesterday’s words, Gu Xiao had asked him to bring a message?
Shen Xihe’s lips curved slightly. “Da‑Wa.”
Da‑Wa said, “Little Uncle, today you’ll eat pancake rolls.”
Shen Xihe glanced at the basket. “Yesterday, did you tell anyone what I said…”
How could Da‑Wa let his uncle doubt his integrity? “No! Absolutely not. I told no one. Even when Grandma asked, I didn’t say. If you don’t believe me, I can swear.”
Shen Xihe: “…”