Salt-drying caves were a unique landform native to Heishan Island—a peculiar type of sea-erosion cave.
Hard granite predominated on the island. Over tens of thousands of years, washed by ocean tides and eroded by sea winds day in and day out, countless shallow, pot-like deep grooves formed atop the low coastal stone platforms.
Tens of thousands of years ago, as sea levels dropped, these natural grooves remained behind on the shore, known as salt-drying caves.
Every month during the spring tides, people would transport seawater to these grooves, utilizing sunlight to dry and evaporate the salt. Seawater was allowed to sit and settle in the natural stone troughs, replenished with fresh brine to raise its concentration, until salt naturally crystallized inside the hollows before the next spring tide arrived.
They would gather this salt to exchange for grain, and when the spring tides washed through the grooves once more, a new round of salt drying would begin.
Cycle after cycle, things had always been done this way.
The more salt-drying caves a family possessed, the more grain they could exchange, and from time to time, there would even be surplus grain to trade for meat, silk cloth, or other goods.
On Heishan Island, it was hardly a rare occurrence for lives to be lost over these salt-drying caves.
“Forget about the salt-drying caves for now. As I said before, if the official ships stop coming, having more salt-drying caves won’t mean a thing anyway. We’ll discuss everything after I return tomorrow.”
Jiang Song’s tone was firm as he shot several warning glances at his troublemaking younger brothers.
None of the Jiang brothers dared contradict their eldest brother’s words; exchanging troubled looks, they returned to their respective rooms with somber faces.
Meanwhile, Shi Yin had already returned to her house with the freshwater.
The sky was getting late, and they had gone the entire day without eating, leaving Rong’er long drained of energy from hunger.
Seeing her mother return, she tearfully reached out for a hug.
“Mother, Mother, belly hungry.”
Chengzhou was also ravenously hungry, letting out a final sigh of relief upon seeing his mother return safely.
“Mother, why so fast?”
Shi Yin hugged Rong’er, patted Chengzhou’s cheek, and said, “That well isn’t far, right next to those five tiled houses—just a few steps away.”
Chengzhou stood on tiptoe to cast a glance in that direction, then uncocked the bolt and put away the crossbow.
On the stove, the clay jar had already heated up, though the water had not yet come to a boil.
Shi Yin had no intention of using the water inside to drink; she was merely boiling it to sterilize the clay jar, since it had previously been used by someone else.
Using her sleeve as padding, she carried the clay jar over to the ground: “Chengzhou, watch Rong’er well. This water is scalding hot; keep her further away.”
Chengzhou took Rong’er by the hand to go play in the yard, which was piled high with oyster shells as they searched for complete and pretty ones.
Before long, a child about five years old quietly ambled over while sucking on his index finger.
“What are you guys doing?”
Children were scarce on the island, and now that two kids had arrived all at once, he also wanted to join in and play together.
“We’re picking up shells to play with. Do you want one?” Chengzhou held up a large, intact shell in his hand and asked kindly.
“What do you want this for? The seaside is full of them. Uncle Sun just threw them in the yard after finishing eating—they’re so dirty. My mother said Uncle Sun’s yard stinks and won’t let me come play.”
Chengzhou looked around and asked, “Where is your house?”
The little child pointed toward those five tiled houses in the distance and said, “Over there is my house. My family’s yard is huge! Do you want to come play at my house?”
Rong’er clapped her hands: “Play, play.”
Chengzhou shook his head and said, “No, we can’t leave the yard today. You can come play at our place, and later on, we’ll go play at your house.”
Chengzhou was sharp-witted; in an unfamiliar place like this, what if he were taken as a hostage?
“Wangshan, Wangshan!” In the distance, the eldest sister-in-law of the Jiang family noticed her son was missing and hastily began calling out.
“Hey, I’m over here!”
Wangshan responded, but did not budge.
Seeing that Wangshan had actually run over to Shi Yin’s house, the eldest sister-in-law of the Jiang family felt a wave of panic in her heart.
That family’s son was still carrying a cleaver on his back; after all, he was a child who had killed two people. Before her husband probed their background, it was best for them to keep interactions to a minimum.
“Time to come home for dinner! Hurry back!” Not wanting to hold a grudge against Shi Yin and her children right now either, the eldest sister-in-law merely called her son back without saying anything more.
Wangshan looked back with every step; having finally found a playmate with great difficulty, he was somewhat reluctant to leave.
Chengzhou looked at Wangshan and offered a friendly wave.
This made Wangshan overjoyed, hopping and skipping all the way back to his yard.
Shi Yin was still busy messing with that smoking stove.
She shoveled some yellow earth, sprinkled over some crushed straw, and fetched some wood ash containing charcoal from the stove cavity, mixing it all evenly together.
She poured the water from the clay jar onto the pile of dirt, brushing the inside thoroughly with straw stalks as she poured. Only after rinsing it clean repeatedly did she pour in clarified well water and toss in a few handfuls of millet and wheat grain together.
She set the clay jar back on the stove counter’s stones, picked up several pieces of gravel to fill the surrounding gaps, and sealed everything tight with the freshly mixed thin mud.
The smoke and fire that had been wildly scattering across the stove counter were finally suppressed; however, in the next moment, a thick cloud surged out all at once from the stove opening where wood was added.
“Cough, cough…”
Choked by the dense smoke into repeated coughing, Shi Yin ran out into the yard in a wretched state, her entire face covered in ash and soot, looking a dusty gray.
“Mother, turned black.” Seeing her mother’s face and head covered in ash, Rong’er ran over with a bit of concern.
“Cough, cough, don’t come over yet. It’s full of soot, careful not to choke yourselves.”
In the house behind Shi Yin, the smoke that had originally been merely swirling faintly beneath the ceiling was now surging in billows out through the door and windows.
“Mother, what happened?” Chengzhou stepped forward to pull Rong’er back, asking with concern as well.
“The chimney is probably blocked,” Shi Yin looked up at the chimney atop the roof beam, which was quiet without a single trace of smoke.
Chengzhou looked around and spotted a slightly longer tree branch in a corner of the yard: “Mother, I’ll climb up. You hand me that pole, and I’ll poke around to give it a try.”
Shi Yin checked the length of that pole; it was indeed not short, standing just a tiny bit taller than her. Fortunately, this house was low and squat; as long as it wasn’t so unlucky as to be blocked at the very bottom, it should work.
“Chengzhou, you must be careful with your footing,” Shi Yin instructed, guarding beneath the eaves.
Chengzhou was young and light, making him nimble at climbing walls.
He climbed up along the loose rocks and tree branches piled in the yard; where it wasn’t high enough, Shi Yin even moved a few pieces of broken stones to brace his feet.
Chengzhou carefully climbed to the position of the chimney in the middle of the house. Shi Yin passed the tree trunk up, and he poked his head inside to look.
“Mother, it’s packed full of tree branches inside.” The blocked spot wasn’t deep, and Chengzhou spotted it at a glance.
He surveyed the surrounding roof tops and said, “Mother, there are no trees around the roof, nor scattered tree branches. How could these be inside the chimney?”
Shi Yin furrowed her brows and surveyed the surroundings, finding no trace of birds.
“Poke it open, come down first before we speak.”
Chengzhou poked the tree branches down. After Shi Yin carried him down, she poked the fire inside the stove backward; a surge of fierce flame ignited the branches, and smoke quickly drifted out from the chimney.
The house was finally fit for people to enter.
“Mother, were those tree branches placed there deliberately?” Chengzhou squatted beside her, asking softly.
Shi Yin nodded: “Likely so. I just don’t know which previous owner used this dirty trick.”
On this island where the strong preyed on the weak, one had to be careful at all times.