She still needed to find time to go into town and see if there was any decent way to make a living.
For now, with her around, they wouldn’t starve, but that was the limit.
Silver was still needed to buy grain, otherwise this weak and sickly family wouldn’t manage. Opening wasteland was already difficult, and they had missed the rice planting season. Grain still had to be bought.
They could grow other crops, but the fields had been abandoned for years, and reclaiming them would take time. Planting soybeans, corn, or mung beans—all required growth cycles.
From memory she knew that the summer tax was due from May to July. If there wasn’t enough grain, they would need silver to buy enough to pay. Taxes could be paid in money instead of grain, but the exchange rate was double the grain’s worth—and that wasn’t even the cruelest.
If unlucky enough to meet a ruthless one, three to five times the grain price in silver was possible.
If one couldn’t pay grain or money, then only labor service could settle the tax.
One round of labor service—if it didn’t kill you, it would peel off a layer of skin.
With luck, the body could recover in a few months. Without luck, there’d be no hope left for life.
Farm work required strength. If the body collapsed, no work could be done.
Thinking this, Yu Qiu suddenly felt a strong sense of urgency.
Everywhere, silver was needed.
Besides food, there were clothes. Summer clothes were manageable—they could collect hemp and make them with some effort.
But winter clothes and bedding were a large expense.
The household had only three quilts. The thick one was padded with cotton, the most valuable possession in the house, bought with the savings her late father-in-law had left. The bedding mats were stuffed with dry straw and reed flowers. The thin quilt was padded with willow catkins—softer to cover with. Yet at night, the four of them squeezed onto one bedding mat, still feeling the chill.
Two clay pots, one clay basin, one water ladle with a missing edge. One kitchen knife, a few rough porcelain bowls. Five or six baskets, a few quilts, a few sets of rough hemp clothes, a few sets of cotton clothes. Not much coarse salt left, and the grain was nearly gone. Among it was even one bag that was hers—the grain she got when she sold herself!
That was the Wei family’s entire property. Nothing else worth counting. No extra shoes—only the worn straw sandals on their feet. Even the beds, tables, and chairs were broken beyond repair.
She looked down at her cloth shoes, already unable to cover her toes. Her desire to earn money became more urgent. There were too many things that needed to be bought. Aside from the three crumbling thatched huts that could barely keep out wind and rain, everything else had to be replaced.
And Li-shi’s health—she had to find an excuse to take her to a doctor. That way she wouldn’t need to secretly use healing powers at night to tend her mother-in-law.
She did know a little medicine, recognized some herbs, even some methods of preparing them. But in her previous life, she had mostly relied on powers to heal—faster results. What she knew was only superficial. Her knowledge of herbs came from field missions.
The younger siblings too—hungry and cold all day long, their sallow faces and skinny frames were pitiful.
They had taken her in, someone from another world. She must repay them.
But the fact that she came from another world—she could not and would not tell anyone.
In her past life, she had seen too much of the darkness in human hearts: brothers turning against each other, sisters betraying one another, even closest kin harming each other mercilessly for food, crystals, points, profits, and resources. She could no longer easily trust anyone completely.
All the more in this strange time and space—she had to be cautious to live well.
Just then, a “creak” sounded—the old wooden door.
Yu Qiu looked over and saw Erhe standing at the doorway, eyes half-closed in sleep, confused as he met her gaze.
“Sister-in-law, what’s that smell so good?” He swallowed after asking, then scratched his head in embarrassment and smiled with pursed lips.
The shy boy was clearly tempted by the smell of fish soup.
“Go wake up Mother and Sanya. There are willow branches there—wash up, and it’ll be time to eat.” Yu Qiu pointed to the branches on top of the water tank lid.
Erhe glanced at the sky in surprise, swallowed again, his eyes still fixed on the clay pot of fish soup, though his mouth said, “At this hour, if we eat breakfast, we won’t last till afternoon. Sister-in-law, if you’re hungry, eat first. We can wait.” His little nose twitched, secretly inhaling the savory fragrance.
Yu Qiu almost laughed at his cute but insincere words. She didn’t hide it, just smiled and said, “You and Mother both need nourishment. Eating only two meals a day isn’t enough.” She stood, picked up the willow branches, and stuffed them into his hands. “Go wash quickly. Don’t worry about food—I’ll find a way.”
Then she went inside. In the east bedroom, Li-shi and Sanya were already awake. Li-shi was putting on shoes, while Sanya sat still in a daze.
Seeing Yu Qiu, Sanya murmured sleepily, “Sister-in-law.”
Yu Qiu answered, “Good timing. Wash up and we can eat.”
Li-shi smiled and shook her head, turning to fix Sanya’s hair. “What timing? The smell woke us up. What did you cook? Smells like fish soup.”
“You’ve got a good nose—it is fish soup.” Yu Qiu fetched bowls and chopsticks from the basket in the main room, then teased while passing by the doorway, “Sanya, hurry up. If you’re late, your second brother will eat it all.”
Still dazed, Sanya quickly put on shoes, didn’t even finish tying her hair, and ran out shouting, “Second Brother, you better leave me some!”
Yu Qiu followed, while Li-shi called after, “Your hair isn’t done yet!”
Watching Yu Qiu’s figure disappear, satisfaction filled Li-shi’s eyes more and more. Truly, the more she looked, the more she liked her. A smile surfaced on her face—until thoughts of her eldest son, whose fate was unknown, turned her smile into sorrow.
She sighed heavily, rose, and went after Sanya to finish her hair.
Without a ladle, the fish soup had to be poured out. The clay pot mouth wasn’t wide, so some spilled, making the younger siblings’ hearts ache.
With no table or chairs, the bowls were placed on the chopping stone.
But the younger siblings had been taught well. With Li-shi not yet seated, they only stared at the soup and swallowed, not moving their chopsticks.
Knowing the children were hungry, Li-shi didn’t delay.
There were only three sets of bowls and chopsticks for the family—not enough. But Yu Qiu wasn’t troubled. She snapped off a branch, split it in two, washed it, and once Li-shi started eating, she ate straight from the clay pot.
The clay pot wasn’t big, but it could just manage to hold a whitefish weighing about two jin.
It came out to nearly four bowls—each person two pieces of fish, with a full bowl of oily soup. Enough to feed the four weak, frail ones.
The other fish sat in the clay basin, saved for the next meal.