Guo Ce followed his gaze and saw a woman carrying a backpack, her clothes patched in several places—a clear village woman.
He withdrew his eyes and looked at Lin Dalang. “Brother Lin, do you know her?”
Who would want to know someone with a venomous, scheming heart like that? Lin Dalang sipped his tea with a look of disdain.
“Someone from the village. I’ve seen her once or twice.”
Seen her once or twice and already this disdainful? Guo Ce didn’t believe it.
Li Miaomiao felt someone watching her. She glanced back at the street, filled with people of all kinds, tucked her money pouch away, and continued toward the iron workshop.
The wooden box had been purchased by Master He for a tael of silver.
She had arranged a deal with Shopkeeper Wang: on the first and fifteenth of every month, she would bring finished wooden items to the shop. Medium and small pieces, like this box, sold for a tael of silver; larger or more intricate items would be priced according to design.
The piece sold to Master He could have gone for a higher price, but the wood was ordinary.
Since it wasn’t dried yet, she had to sell it cheaper.
Seeing a Lu Ban ruler for sale in the shop, she had intended to buy one, but Shopkeeper Wang gave it to her for free, in recognition of their partnership.
She was still very poor—refusing wasn’t an option.
At the iron workshop, she drew diagrams for the blades she needed for saws, planes, drills, chisels, hammers, and shovels.
The blacksmith examined the drawings. Most were simple enough, except for one that stumped him. He scratched the back of his head.
“Miss, I’ve never made a blade like this—it’s shaped like teeth. It’ll cost a lot.”
“Which one?”
The blacksmith’s dark fingers pointed to the long, serrated blade at the front.
Li Miaomiao leaned in to inspect—it was a saw blade. Without the saw, it was tricky.
“Master, how much for a saw blade?”
“At least a tael,” he said.
He wasn’t exaggerating. Those teeth were tricky to craft.
Li Miaomiao raised an eyebrow. She had only earned a tael herself—buying the saw would exhaust her funds. She decided to postpone it.
“Master, skip the saw blade for now. For the other blades, make me one axe. How much will that be?”
The blacksmith, seeing how poor she was, agreed to a discount.
“One hundred wen in total.”
Li Miaomiao handed over the coins. “When can I pick them up?”
“Second watch of Wei hour,” he replied.
After leaving the iron workshop, she bought five jin of meat at the butcher. When paying, she noticed a wooden tub full of pork intestines. In the old times, pork had a strong gamy taste, and offal was even worse. Few would eat it because it was tedious to clean; proper washing required salt and flour, and salt was expensive.
Though the dynasty was stable, salt in the northwest cost forty wen per jin.
Li Miaomiao hesitated—processing it was troublesome, but once cleaned, seasoned, and smoked with cypress leaves, it could be preserved for half a year. In the end, she decided to buy it.
“Shopkeeper, how much for the pork offal?”
The butcher wrapped the five jin of meat and turned to the tub of offal, astonished.
“You want to buy that?”
“Yes,” Li Miaomiao nodded.
The butcher laughed heartily. “Haha, someone actually wants to eat this filth! You can take it for free if you want.”
Li Miaomiao: When did I ever say I wanted to eat filth…
She took it and placed it in her backpack. “I’ll come back for the offal later; I need to buy a few other things first.”
“Go ahead,” the butcher said, assuming she had changed her mind.
She bought the other items, placed the finished blades into her backpack, and returned for the offal.
Balancing a tub in one hand and two hens in the other, she walked back to the village.
Lin Dalang, having secured a deposit, rode in a horse-drawn carriage. From afar, he caught a whiff of a foul smell. Lifting the curtain, he saw Li Miaomiao in the street.
“Disgusting,” he muttered, frowning. He pulled the curtain down and told the coachman, “Drive faster. Don’t let this stench soil my clothes.”
Li Miaomiao didn’t know Lin Dalang was in the carriage. By the time she returned home, it was nearly evening.
Opening the door, she saw Xiao Xian sitting on the small bench at the door, fiddling with something in his long, slender hands.
Their eyes met.
Li Miaomiao wanted to greet him, a faint smile appearing, but Xiao Xian’s brows furrowed as he studied her, his cool tone tinged with faint exasperation:
“Did you fall into the dung pit?”
Li Miaomiao frowned, looking at her clothes in confusion.
She was carrying two chickens, and the backpack was full—his eyes darkened.
Not only had she returned, she’d bought more things…
It wasn’t until she saw the bucket and smelled the stench that she understood his meaning.
She lifted the bucket, explaining: “I didn’t fall into a dung pit. I asked the shopkeeper for pork offal when I bought meat.”
As she looked up, Xiao Xian’s eyes returned to their usual calm.
“That stuff’s too foul even for dogs. Why bring it home?”
He spoke without noticing the slight relaxation in his tone, like a hedgehog retracting a defensive spike.
“I bought some spices. Once cleaned and cooked, it’ll be fragrant.”
Xiao Xian expressionless, gripped the small sticks in his hands and returned to the room, leaving Li Miaomiao with a skeptical gaze.
She hadn’t paid attention on the way back, but standing in the courtyard now, the stench hit her hard.
Setting down the backpack and offal, she placed the two tied chickens on the ground, then emptied the backpack.
Blades and meat cost 250 wen; two hens, 100 wen; three jin of salt, 120 wen; vinegar, spices, eggs, coarse tofu, low-grade wine, and a white radish totaled 116 wen.
Including the tael of silver and the ten wen from the original owner, she had 424 wen remaining.
She put the leftover copper coins into a small wooden box, feeling it wasn’t safe anywhere else.
After a few steps, she turned to Xiao Xian’s room. Since he stayed home every day, she figured his old wooden cabinet was the safest place.
After all, he had claimed she knew nothing about him—she could take her time.
She placed the box in the cabinet. Xiao Xian lazily lifted an eyelid:
“Not afraid I’ll spend your money?”
She had spent the day making boxes and bought the supplies with money earned from selling them.
Li Miaomiao deliberately didn’t look at his legs, instead smirking casually at his handsome face.
“Joint property of husband and wife—you can spend it.”
Being attractive was his own reward, she thought.
Seeing her leave with a cheerful smile, Xiao Xian’s brows furrowed slightly.