Shen Xihe no longer looked at Gu Xiao. Carrying the oil lamp, he walked to the bed and began to loosen his belt. In the stillness of the night, his hand rested on the knot at his waist. His face was stern as he said, “Gu Xiao, if you won’t sleep, why are you watching me?”
Gu Xiao only glanced twice more at the bed. Was that not allowed? “It’s cold at night. Keep the quilt tight. Your health matters most.”
With that, she moved to the narrow couch. It was pitifully small, barely enough for her to lie down. Worse still, there wasn’t even a pillow. Turning over was difficult, but a bed was a bed—anyone could sleep on it. Besides, Shen Xihe would leave tomorrow, and she could move back then. He returned only once every five days. If it could be ten days, fifteen, or even a month between visits, that would be better still.
Shen Xihe blew out the lamp. In the darkness, he shed his outer robe and lay down. Yet Gu Xiao’s words lingered in his mind—*It’s cold at night…*
Did she truly care for him?
From the couch came no sound at all. Shen Xihe had always thought he disliked Gu Xiao, that her presence ruined his sleep. Tonight should have been the same. Yet unexpectedly, he slept soundly.
By the hour of the tiger, Shen Xihe rose. Half‑asleep, Gu Xiao heard the rustle of clothing.
Without a pillow and afraid to move, she had spent the night with an aching back and sore waist. Dawn had not yet broken, and she longed to send him off at once. No—she wanted to see him leave with her own eyes. She sat up. “Are you leaving already?”
He nodded. He would return in five days, and since Gu Xiao brought him meals daily, there was no need for lingering farewells.
Relieved, Gu Xiao personally saw him to the door. “It’s still dark. Be careful on the road.”
Shen Xihe ignored her, closing the door behind him.
Early that morning, Madam Zhou prepared food for him. There was little to take along—only a bundle with mended clothes.
Most boys sent to the academy came from families with means. The better‑off wore silk, the poorer cotton. Only Shen Xihe’s clothes bore patches.
Madam Zhou said, “All the clothes are mended. At noon, Xiao Xiao will still bring you your meal.”
Shen Xihe gave a quiet “Mm.” Once this busy spell passed, by late spring, Gu Xiao would no longer need to deliver food.
In the west room, Gu Xiao listened to his movements. Soon he was gone, and she could not sleep again. She began weaving a cricket cage. The wood lay beneath the table—long pieces, square pieces, meant for fan handles. They had to be shaved into thin strips. She worked for a while, and by the hour of the hare (6- 8 a.m.), when the household stirred, she went to help with the fire and breakfast.
That morning, Madam Li cooked. Sitting on a stool by the stove, her head bowed, her eyes red and swollen as if she had cried. She had indeed wept half the night. She resented Madam Zhou’s favoritism and her own barren womb. Last night, her daughter whispered, *The meat was so delicious.* Thinking how the girl had grown up scarcely tasting meat, Madam Li’s heart felt pierced with needles. The porridge bubbled in the pot. Smoke stung her eyes, but she clenched her teeth, resolving to save some money herself.
Her husband, Second Brother Shen, only slept and worked the fields. He never managed to save. Their branch of the family was worse off than the eldest’s. She was pregnant—if she did not eat, the child within still must.
Madam Li glanced at Gu Xiao. “Xiao Xiao, Second Sister has a favor to ask…”
Gu Xiao was startled. “Don’t speak of favors… Second Sister…” She studied Madam Li and asked softly, “Are you also thinking of Husband’s autumn exam next year, worried there won’t be enough silver for the journey, so you want to help?”
Madam Li froze. Though blunt, she was not foolish. “Yes. We must save more for Third Brother. You’re right. I usually embroider handkerchiefs. Xiao Xiao, when you go to town, could you help sell them?”
Each stitch was painstaking; her daughter’s fingers pricked with needle marks. Madam Li could not hand everything over to Madam Zhou.
Since it was on her way, Gu Xiao was willing. She would leave eventually, but while she remained in the Shen household, it was best to keep relations smooth. “I’ll help look into it,” she said, stirring the porridge. Then added, “But about Mother…”
Madam Li replied, “Mother holds the purse strings. The larger share will surely go to the household. As long as Third Brother succeeds, I’ll do anything.”
Gu Xiao touched her face. So—they had all heard what she said yesterday.
After breakfast, the Shen family went to the fields to work. Madam Li stayed behind with several children to tidy the house, wash clothes, and prepare lunch.
Er Ya, with her delicate brows and gentle manner, quietly helped at her mother’s side. When the meal was ready, Madam Li slipped the embroidered handkerchiefs into Gu Xiao’s hands.
Carrying the lunch, Gu Xiao set out. Spring sunlight was bright, wildflowers of every color lined the road, and her mood was light—the long walk didn’t feel tiring at all. She arrived at the academy early. Beforehand, she managed to sell two cricket cages, but any more wouldn’t move. At the gate, she noticed others selling the same cages, each for two copper coins.
Gu Xiao sighed. That was business—once a hint of profit appeared, others rushed to copy. Fortunately, she had already decided to make fans instead.
When the hour came, Shen Xihe stepped out of the academy. Seeing Gu Xiao’s faintly sullen look, he frowned but asked nothing. After he finished eating, Gu Xiao gathered the dishes. “Third Brother, study hard. I’ll head back now.”
Shen Xihe nodded. “Mm. Go on.” Whether she was happy or not had nothing to do with him.
Gu Xiao said softly, “Then I’ll be going.” She lingered at the academy gate, circling a few times before finally selling off the remaining cages. Today had been slow—perhaps tomorrow she wouldn’t sell a single one. She then went to the county cloth shop and asked if they bought handkerchiefs.
The shop often did, paying one coin per piece. After selling them, Gu Xiao bought a bundle of fabric scraps for five coins. She had sold four cages, yet hadn’t even allowed herself a meat bun, and instead turned toward the bookshop.
The bookshop sold not only books but also brushes, ink, paper, inkstones, and paints.
Gu Xiao had twelve coins left. A rabbit‑hair brush cost ten, a standard ink stick fifteen, paints even more—twenty.
The clerk at the counter asked what she wanted. Gu Xiao looked around. “I’ll take a stack of paper.”
He counted out twenty‑five sheets. “Ten coins altogether.”
Heart aching, Gu Xiao handed over the money and carried the paper back to the Shen household.
First she gave Madam Li ten copper coins. Grateful for her help, Madam Li took over the housework, letting Gu Xiao stay in her room undisturbed.
Gu Xiao began making folding fans. The fan paper had to be stiff—five sheets pasted together with water barely sufficed. Then the paper had to be dried. She fetched the basket to fashion fan handles.
Bamboo was best, but lacking that, she used wood: thin strips, wide at the top, narrow at the bottom—fifteen handles in all, with the outer ones broader and thicker.
The carving knife was rusted and hard to use, but Gu Xiao was practiced in such work. It wasn’t difficult for her. She drilled round holes at the base of each handle, then polished them smooth with scraps of cloth.
Gu Xiao sat at the table all afternoon. By evening, she set aside her work and went out to cook. Madam Li’s eyes were no longer swollen; a faint smile lingered there. “Xiao Xiao, just help with the fire.”
Smoke rose from every household in the village as supper was prepared. The Shen family returned from the fields, and the old master announced, “Looks like rain tomorrow. Get the seeds ready—we’ll plant the day after.”
An experienced farmer could read the sky and know when rain would fall. Spring rain was as precious as oil; they had to seize the chance to sow while the water was plentiful.
If they were planting, the meals at home had to change. Dry rice in the morning, two buns at noon would not be enough, and coming back hungry at night was no good either.
Madam Zhou nodded. Thinking of the stores of grain, she judged they would be sufficient.
The next day, sure enough, rain began to fall.
Even in the rain, meals still had to be delivered. The Shen family had no umbrella, so Gu Xiao donned a straw raincoat and hurried toward the county. The dirt road was soaked, every step sinking into mud. By the time she reached the academy, the food in her basket was cold. She lifted the cloth. “Third Brother, today the food is cold.”
At the gate stood a simple shelter for students to eat under. Shen Xihe had no umbrella; his clothes and hair were wet. He looked at Gu Xiao. “It doesn’t matter. It’s raining today… why didn’t you let Da Wa come?”
Gu Xiao sighed inwardly. Da Wa had wanted to come, but she needed to sell cricket cages. Even if no one bought, she had to try—every coin counted. So she had taken the task herself. Lowering her head, she said, “I wanted to come.”
Her raincoat still dripped; her shoes were filthy. Shen Xihe had walked this road countless times, even in rain, and knew how hard it was. A pang stirred in him. Was she coming now only because she would not be delivering meals much longer?
He ate quickly, then—rarely—said, “Go back and have Mother make some ginger soup.”
Gu Xiao blinked. Shen Xihe could show concern? “Mm. You drink more hot water.”
She still carried cricket cages in her arms. Rain kept people away from the academy gate, and she sold only two. The rain did not stop, and she dared not linger. She hurried home, forgetting all about the ginger soup.
The raincoat had done its job; she was scarcely wet. In the village, umbrellas were hardly needed. She wiped her shoes, then went inside to check how the fan paper was drying.
The sheets were dry. Fan paper had to be cut into a fan shape, thirteen folds in the surface, each crease alternating forward and back. Paper and handle could not be joined with water—they needed paste.
Paste required flour. Gu Xiao had none; only Madam Zhou had access to flour.
It took little flour to make paste, but flour was food. Using it for glue was clearly frivolous. Gu Xiao thought for a moment, then—before Madam Zhou returned—slipped into the east room.
She tucked two coins into the money pouch beneath the third clay jar, pressed her hands together, and whispered with devotion: “I will save enough silver for my husband!”
Madam Chen secretly followed her, watching from outside. Her heart was moved. When Madam Zhou came back, she told her with a complicated expression, “Mother, Xiao Xiao put more money into the pouch again.”
Madam Zhou counted inside the room. Indeed, two coins more. She sighed. “Ah… this child…”
How could she be so sensible?