The cinnabar was poured into a shallow bowl. Fu Ruyi beckoned to the great beauty. She rinsed the long stone she had used to grind the ink with water and handed it to him. “Can you mix the cinnabar evenly for me, just like I grind ink?”
“Y-yes… I can…” Lou Zhaoshui’s gaze was fixed on her face, unable to look away.
Fu Ruyi smiled at him, then took the list handed to her and went to examine the stone tablet chosen by the Lu family.
“The Lu family has quite a few members. Think it over, plan the layout well, and add all the names.” The older man spoke up.
“No problem.” Fu Ruyi stared at the list in her hand, carefully checking every character, confirming they were all ones she knew how to write. She silently breathed a sigh of relief.
“Did you write the names on this register of descendants yourselves, or have someone copy them out from dictation? Are you certain every name is correct? Are all the characters written correctly?” Fu Ruyi checked with them. “I’ll read it out once and check with you. If there are no issues, I’ll start writing right away.”
“Good, you really are thorough.”
Fu Ruyi gave a polite smile. She read the names on the piece of silk at a slower pace, and indeed found two errors or omissions, which she corrected on the spot.
“Ruyi, is this all right?” Lou Zhaoshui brought over the bowl of cinnabar and also handed her a brush with a reddish tip. “Is this the right brush?”
“Yes, that’s correct.” Ruyi took the brush and dipped it into the cinnabar while he held the bowl steady. The cinnabar clung to the brush without dripping. She nodded in satisfaction. “Impressive. Much better than the cinnabar my third brother grinds.”
Lou Zhaoshui tried to keep his lips from curving into a smile and unconsciously stood a little straighter.
Stonecutter Dou and the three members of the Lu family couldn’t help but take a few more glances at him.
Fu Ruyi hooked her arm through his and led him to the stone tablet laid flat. She used him as a stand, having him crouch down on her right side so she could easily dip her brush into the cinnabar.
The three Lu family members gathered around. Seeing that she intended to write directly with the cinnabar brush, one of them stopped her: “Aren’t you going to draft it first to determine the character size and line spacing?”
“No need. I know what I’m doing,” Fu Ruyi said. “I’m about to start writing. Don’t disturb me until I speak.”
“The characters she practices are all taken from rubbings of tombstone inscriptions. She’s familiar with all kinds of stone tablets and can draft layouts better than I can.” Stonecutter Dou spoke up in support.
With that, the three Lu family members fell silent.
Fu Ruyi held her breath and wrote the deceased’s name. Then, without changing brushes, she squeezed the excess cinnabar from the tip, dipped the point into the pigment, and began transcribing the names from the list of descendants on the left side of the tablet.
One dip for every character. The handsome man crouching below her was frequently called upon, her brightly colored brush tip and red-stained fingers dancing before his eyes. Each time the fine brush tip dipped into the blood-red pigment, his heart felt both prickled and itchy, as if blood were being drawn from his very heart.
The shadow cast by the scorching sun beneath the Chinese honey locust tree shifted imperceptibly. The wind carried fallen leaves gently to the ground. On the bluish-black stone tablet, the vivid red brush tip moved ceaselessly…
No one knew how much time had passed. The brush tip moved to the lower part of the tablet. After one final flick and pause, the hand holding the brush lowered, and its owner let out a long breath. “Done.”
“All written?”
“Count them yourself. Once the pigment dries, I’ll add the date of the monument’s erection and it’ll be complete.”
Under cover of their conversation, Lou Zhaoshui lowered his head and let out two silent, long breaths, finally freeing his captive breath.
Father Lou, Mother Lou, and the two children drew closer to look. They couldn’t find the words to describe it—they only felt that every character was beautiful to behold, like galloping steeds, like wolves on the mountains, like sturdy breeding rams—things that made herdsmen’s hearts stir and quail.
The three members of the Lu family had no further objections. When Fu Ruyi added the date of the monument’s erection, they presented the payment they had brought.
Fu Ruyi said goodbye to Stonecutter Dou, packed up her things, and left with the Lou family, who followed her with eyes full of admiration.
“Ruyi, you’ve come.” Dou Youcai was carrying a plow on his shoulder, about to enter the gate, when he met the departing group outside.
“Plowing the fields? No wonder I didn’t see you at home.” Fu Ruyi greeted him with a composed expression. She took Lou Zhaoshui’s hand and said, “It’s almost noon—we should be going.”
Dou Youcai’s gaze fixed on their clasped hands, then involuntarily drifted to Lou Zhaoshui’s face. One glance was enough to make him lower his head in shame. He asked nothing, only stepped aside and watched her leave with the others.
“Still staring? They’re long gone.” Granny Yin had come out at some point. “Carrying that plow all this time and not feeling tired? You’re a fool without a lick of sense. Stop pining—she’s going to marry that Xianbei man.”
“So that’s the kind she likes.” Dou Youcai thought of the man’s appearance and found he didn’t even have the heart to compete.
Fu Ruyi’s group had already walked out of Ling Village. Father Lou and Mother Lou dragged the two children back to the fields to fetch their tools, letting their lovesick youngest son go on ahead.
Lou Zhaoshui carried twenty catties of grain in one hand while tightly gripping the hand that held his with the other. Today’s events had once again confirmed what he’d said before—useful hands were the most beautiful.
Once they were out of Father Lou and Mother Lou’s sight, Fu Ruyi wiggled her hand, only to have it gripped even tighter.
“What are you doing?” she asked deliberately.
Lou Zhaoshui turned his gaze toward the glittering golden surface of the lake and said nothing.
Ruyi chuckled a few times. She squeezed his hand back and swung their arms in wide arcs, their clasped hands swaying back and forth like tangled grass tips in the wind.
By the time they returned to the pontoon bridge entrance, it was high noon. The children who had taken lunch to the fields were already walking back with empty baskets. Ruyi figured her family had finished eating, so she followed Lou Zhaoshui to the Lou house for lunch.
Before leaving, she made a quick trip to the Lou family’s kitchen. When she came out, two bowls of lard and five catties of rice had been left behind.
Mother Lou was too embarrassed to accept them—her family had already received so much kindness from Ruyi and the Fu family.
“This is called sharing joy,” Fu Ruyi spoke from her heart. “The rewards I earn are meant to be shared with the people I care about. If you’re happy, I’ll be even happier. And when you eat, remember to praise me plenty—that will make the grain I earned with my writing even more valuable.”
“Of course! Of course! I’ll praise you every day.” Mother Lou was both delighted and comforted, feeling the distance between her and Ruyi suddenly close.
“I’m off now.” Fu Ruyi followed Lou Zhaoshui out. “Once my brothers set a date, I’ll come and tell you.”
Father Lou followed them out. “Are you sure you don’t need us to come help?”
“Not for now.” The Lou family had people to help but no plowing cattle or sowing tools—they even rented the ox for their own plowing. They wouldn’t be of much help at the Fu farm anyway. Having Lou Zhaoshui as an obedient helper was more than enough.
On the way back, Ruyi didn’t dawdle. She went home to drop off her things, asked which field Fu Yuan and his wife were working in, then took Lou Zhaoshui to find them and relieve the couple, who had been busy all morning.
The soil where hemp was planted was loose, making plowing and harrowing easy. Two mu could be plowed in a day, and after a night’s rest, the hemp seeds would be sown.
The soaked hemp seeds were spread out to dry off excess moisture, then mixed with washed and sun-dried fine sand at a ratio of one to five. After mixing thoroughly, the blend was poured into the seed drill hopper, and the two together were sown into the moist soil.
“This is to prevent the seedlings from coming up too densely. Hemp seeds are tiny—just a pinch in your hand is more than ten seeds,” Ruyi explained to the beauty. “When sowing hemp, the ox must pull the seed drill at a faster pace. If the ox doesn’t obey, you have to make the openings smaller to slow down the seed release rate.”
Lou Zhaoshui noted this carefully and returned home the next day to replicate the hemp-planting technique with his parents.
In two days, three mu of hemp were planted. Before the drainage ditches in the hemp field were even finished, Fu Ruyi sent word that it was time to plant glutinous broomcorn millet.
Before dawn the next day, ten oxen, five seed-drill carts, and three wooden board carts arrived at the entrance of Pinghe Village.
Father Lou and Lou Zhaoshui led the ten Fu family men, along with Second Sister’s husband Liu Dong and his son, to work in the fields, while Mother Lou stayed home with her daughter and daughter-in-law to prepare meals.
Fu Ruyi also came around midday. Worried that the Lou family’s cooking space would be limited and the food insufficient, she had steamed two basketfuls of suibing at home—rich cakes made from dough mixed with lard and honey, soft, fluffy, and sweet.
From before dawn until well after dark, they planted all fifteen mu of the Lou family’s land. The Fu family only returned home after having their evening meal at the Lou household.
After finishing the Lou family’s glutinous broomcorn millet fields, the Fu family threw themselves back into their own land with urgency, while the Lou family didn’t rest either—they continued clearing wasteland to prepare for planting beans. In the meantime, they would pick out wild wheat and miscellaneous bean vines from the wasteland and deliver them to Dapo Village every evening as fodder for the cattle, sheep, chickens, and ducks of the Fu and Liu families.
Days and nights passed amid the smell of freshly turned earth, and after the fruits on the mulberry trees had all changed color, spring planting came to an end.
At the Lesser Fullness solar term, the heat gradually rose, and the tips of the wheat began to tinge yellow.
“Eldest Sister-in-law, Eldest Sister, you’re home?” Fu Ruyi arrived at the Lou household carrying a basket of purple mulberries. “Where are Beinu and Que’er? I brought them a basket of mulberries to try. With no rain these past few days and the high temperatures, the mulberries are fully ripe—they’re really sweet.”
“The two children have gone to graze the cattle and sheep. Grab a stool and sit yourself down—our hands are dirty,” Wan Qianhong said. “Stay for dinner tonight. We’re stewing chicken.”
“Is it one of the hens? Why slaughter one at this time? In a little while, they’d be laying eggs,” Ruyi asked.
Wan Qianhong gritted her teeth and cursed, then raised her hand and pointed east. “With just these few chickens, how could I bear to kill one? It was that thieving woman from the eastern house who beat it.”
The Lou family had been so busy with fieldwork lately that many days they didn’t return home until well after dark. The cattle and sheep followed the people and stayed out of trouble, but the seven free-ranging chickens met with misfortune once they wandered off. At first, chickens went missing, and they simply assumed a weasel had stolen them, thinking nothing more of it—until yesterday when they came home early, and Wan Qianhong happened to catch the thieving woman from the Wang family beating her chicken. Only then did she suspect that the three chickens lost earlier had been killed and eaten by their neighbor. But there was no evidence, and when she caught the woman red-handed yesterday, the thief still refused to admit it, arrogantly shouting that their chickens had gotten into the Wang family’s vegetable garden to steal food.
“I was so furious I killed the rest myself—any longer and they’d all be handed to thieves on a platter,” Wan Qianhong said, trembling with anger.
“Ruyi, take two chickens back with you when you leave tonight,” Lou Yueming said.
“All right.” Ruyi didn’t stand on ceremony. “My dog back home is pregnant. Once she gives birth, I’ll bring over two puppies for you to raise.”
“That works too.” But Lou Yueming figured that even a dog wouldn’t be enough to stop that thieving woman from the Wang family. She was home every single day, and unless they never let their chickens out of the coop, the moment they did, that thief would find a way to snatch them.
Fu Ruyi thought for a moment, then set down her basket and walked out. She went straight to the wall outside the Wang family’s courtyard and shouted at the top of her lungs: “You son of a bitch, you thief, you rotten-gutted wretch! Whoever stole and ate our chickens, I curse her hands and guts to rot. May her bowels spill out and fester as she dies, unable to swallow water or food, until she starves to death.”
Wan Qianhong and Lou Yueming were startled. The two of them walked out.
“You thieving bitch…” Ruyi started a second round of cursing.
“…You rotten-gutted, rotten-bellied thieving hag…” Wan Qianhong joined in. The more she cursed, the more satisfying it felt, and the louder she got.
Seeing this, Lou Yueming cursed along too.
Once they’d gotten it all out of their systems, Ruyi picked up her two chickens and prepared to leave without staying for a meal. She still needed to go back and steam the mulberries and dry them. “Eldest Sister-in-law, Eldest Sister, you two should go pick some tomorrow too. If you steam the mulberries and then sun-dry them, they’ll keep for a whole year. Save them for the children to eat in winter.”
“All right, we’ll go first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Have Eldest Brother and Second Brother sent word back yet?” Ruyi was still thinking about the great beauty’s planned visit to deliver the betrothal gifts.
“Not yet.”
Ruyi had no choice but to leave. As she crossed the bridge, she saw two ox carts approaching from the other side. She stepped back to the end of the bridge to let them pass. But when the two ox carts drew near the north bank, she realized these two people might well be people connected to her. The man driving the lead cart looked about half like Lou Zhaoshui, except he lacked the golden hair and gray-blue eyes. That one difference made the impressions they gave worlds apart.
“Second Brother, you know her?” Lou Zheng noticed the Han woman staring intently at Lou Yi.
“Do I know her?” Lou Yi wasn’t sure. “I don’t think so? Hey, do we know each other?”
Fu Ruyi paid them no mind. She smiled at the two men, waited for the ox carts to come down, then stepped onto the bridge and left.
“Second Brother! Eldest Brother!” Lou Zhaoshui had just gone back and heard that Ruyi had come by. He chased after her, and just as he left the village he ran into the two ox carts—and the men on them were his brothers, whom he’d been missing every day. He ran over in long strides, shouting excitedly: “Second Brother, Eldest Brother, you’re finally back!”
“Little Lamb.” Lou Yi jumped down from the cart and spread his arms to embrace the younger brother who threw himself at him. “You’ve gotten sturdy. And taller too.”