The place where Zhao Silang was serving his corvée labor was at Huaishui River Town.
It was about five li from Dayawan Village where they lived.
The ground was frozen hard, and there wasn’t a single person on the road. The path was full of potholes and very difficult to walk on.
Shen Yulou stumbled along unsteadily.
Zhao Baozhu rolled her eyes until they were tired. She found a tree branch, held one end in her own hand, and extended the other end toward Shen Yulou.
“Grab the branch. I’ll pull you along.”
“…” Shen Yulou felt embarrassed.
Zhao Baozhu threatened her irritably: “Hurry up, or I’ll leave you here to feed the wolves.”
“…” Shen Yulou didn’t dare feel embarrassed anymore. She quickly grabbed the branch and followed behind Zhao Baozhu like a little child.
There was no helping it—her body still hadn’t fully recovered.
Fortunately, most of the journey was already behind them.
After about another two quarters of an hour, they saw many people on the river embankment in the distance, swinging shovels as they dug out river mud.
Zhao Silang was among them. Shen Yulou spotted him at a glance.
That was because he was the tallest of them all. Among the group of laborers, he stood out like a green bamboo shooting straight into the clouds—it was impossible not to notice him.
He was also wearing the least clothing. His sleeves were rolled up almost to his upper arms, revealing clear, firm muscle lines that rippled with each swing of his shovel. He looked like someone who could give you a sense of security.
Zhao Baozhu spotted her fourth brother too. Before she even reached him, she opened her throat and shouted excitedly: “Fourth Brother! Fourth Brother—”
Zhao Silang, who was bent over digging river mud, heard the familiar voice and thought he was hearing things.
He flung a shovel of mud onto the bank, then leaned on his shovel and just started looking in the direction of the voice when a whip suddenly lashed out and struck his shovel.
The bailiff barked: “What are you looking at? Get back to work!”
He raised his whip again after saying that.
Shen Yulou’s heart clenched tight in an instant.
If he’s working, he’s working—why does he have to hit people?
Did laborers in ancient times have no human rights at all?
Zhao Baozhu’s eyes turned red. She opened her throat and roared: “Fourth Brother, Fourth Brother—don’t you dare hit my fourth brother!”
After roaring, she shoved the bamboo basket into Shen Yulou’s arms, stomped both feet hard on the ground, and—whoosh—
Zhao Baozhu was like a little calf with a string of firecrackers trailing from its tail, reeking of gunpowder smoke, screaming wildly as she charged at the bailiff.
Her fierce, aggressive manner made it clear she was determined to knock the bailiff flying with her head.
This made Shen Yulou’s heart clench even tighter.
If she really injured the bailiff, they’d be in serious trouble; even if she didn’t hit him, angering the bailiff would still land them in deep water.
Zhao Silang was still working under that bailiff’s authority, after all.
That Zhao Baozhu!
Shen Yulou was frantic. She pointed at Zhao Baozhu and shouted at Zhao Silang at the top of her lungs: “Brother Zhao! Brother Zhao—”
She meant for Zhao Silang to stop Zhao Baozhu immediately.
Zhao Silang hadn’t expected his little sister to be so reckless either—daring to provoke an official.
He quickly said something to the bailiff and stuffed a cloth pouch into the bailiff’s hand.
The pouch was still warm, containing a few roasted bird eggs.
Those were Zhao Silang’s breakfast that he’d saved for himself, tucked against his body to keep them from going cold.
Having received the bird eggs, and since Zhao Silang had indeed been working hard, the bailiff decided not to make a fuss. He waved his hand and said: “Go on, go on. It’s about time for the meal break anyway.”
The distance was a bit far, so Shen Yulou couldn’t hear what they said.
But she saw the bailiff wave his hand and walk away, while Zhao Silang hurried over to meet Zhao Baozhu.
Shen Yulou knew the danger had passed.
Only then did her tightly knotted heart dare to relax. She patted her pounding little heart and hurriedly carried the basket as she ran toward the siblings.
From a distance, she could hear Zhao Silang scolding Zhao Baozhu.
“What were you screaming about just now? Showing off how loud your voice is, are you?”
Zhao Baozhu no longer showed any of her earlier ferocity. Her bristling hackles had all smoothed down, and she hung her head obediently to take the scolding.
Zhao Silang wasn’t buying it.
Especially when he thought about her reckless boldness just now—Zhao Silang’s heart still pounded with fear. He really wanted to give her a beating so she’d remember the lesson.
His little sister, despite not looking particularly sturdy, had a strength that was in no way inferior to his.
With that momentum just now, if he’d let her charge headfirst into the bailiff, she’d have definitely made him spit blood.
When a commoner beats an official, they don’t just end up in jail—they might even lose their life.
The more Zhao Silang thought about it, the more terrified he became. He couldn’t very well hit her in front of so many people, so scolding would have to do.
Shen Yulou had already arrived.
She didn’t interrupt Zhao Silang’s scolding of his sister. She just stood quietly at the side, observing Zhao Silang.
Serving as a corvée laborer was truly a bitter task. In just three days of not seeing him, Zhao Silang had lost a great deal of weight. The clothes that had fit him well when he left home now looked at least a size or two too big.
Looking at the stubble sprouting on Zhao Silang’s chin and his weary face, Shen Yulou felt both heartache and guilt.
The government office’s conscription this time hadn’t even reached Dayawan Village. Zhao Silang hadn’t needed to suffer this hardship at all.
It was all because of her.
She had let down the Zhao family, and especially Zhao Silang.
The more Shen Yulou thought about it, the guiltier and more self-blaming she felt. She held back the bitterness in her nose and tried hard to keep tears from spilling out of her eyes.
Although he was scolding his sister, Zhao Silang’s peripheral vision had actually been fixed on her the whole time: …
Was he being too harsh?
But he hadn’t yelled at her, so why was she crying?
This woman was frail to begin with, and if he scared her into some kind of trouble, when Mother found out, she’d give him a beating for sure.
Just then, someone called out that it was time to eat, so Zhao Silang took the opportunity to let Zhao Baozhu off the hook, saying he was going to get the food.
But Zhao Baozhu grabbed his arm and said, “Fourth Brother, let’s not eat dry flatbread today—let’s have chicken soup oil noodles!”
“Chicken soup oil noodles?” Zhao Silang raised an eyebrow. He didn’t know what oil noodles were, but he knew chicken soup, and asked in surprise, “Did we kill a chicken at home?”
Who was sick?
The first person Zhao Silang thought of was Shen Yulou, and his gaze snapped over to her: “Are you sick again?”
Shen Yulou: …
Where did that come from?
She was stunned for a moment before she caught up with Zhao Silang’s train of thought.
In the eyes of country folk, chicken was a good thing for nourishing the body.
But because they had to keep the hens for laying eggs to sell, no family was willing to casually kill a chicken to eat.
Zhao Silang had come out to work as a laborer—how hard was that—and the Zhao family hadn’t even been willing to kill a chicken to nourish him. Yet he’d only been gone three days, and there was chicken soup to drink at home… no wonder Zhao Silang’s mind went there.
As for why he thought of her first, it was probably because Zhao Silang figured she was the weakest one in the family?
Didn’t he hear the word “again” in his question?
But this man didn’t stop to think—if she were really sick, how could she have run all the way from Dayawan Village to Huaishui River Town to bring him food?
There was ten li of road between the two places.
“I’m not sick, and no one at home is sick either.” Shen Yulou explained, then added, “What Baozhu and I brought you isn’t called chicken soup oil noodles—it’s called… bamboo shoot soup oil noodles.”
Although there was some cured meat in the soup, it was such a small proportion—the bulk of it was the free winter bamboo shoots—so it should be called bamboo shoot soup oil noodles.
But Zhao Baozhu piped up, “It’s called chicken soup oil noodles! Shen Yulou’s bamboo shoot soup is even more delicious than chicken soup!”
Shen Yulou didn’t argue, thinking to herself, just wait—one day I’ll let you taste real chicken soup oil noodles. That’s what true delicacy tastes like.
She saw Zhao Silang’s relieved expression, and noticed him curiously glancing at the bamboo basket on her arm, so she found a clean patch of open ground and started taking things out of the basket.
The base soup had already been simmered and was stored in an earthenware pot; the rolled-out noodles were threaded onto a bamboo pole and hung up to air, suspended inside the basket.
There was also a large bamboo tube sealed at both ends.
Shen Yulou didn’t touch the bamboo tube, only brought out the earthenware pot.
On the way here, Zhao Baozhu had already scouted out how to prepare food for her fourth brother.
So the moment Shen Yulou brought out the earthenware pot, Zhao Baozhu immediately said, “I’ll go gather some firewood.”
Then she said to Zhao Silang, “Fourth Brother, hurry up and build a stove.”
Zhao Silang made as if to hit her: “You little brat, your skin’s itching again, is it?”
—Daring to order him around.
Zhao Baozhu knew her fourth brother’s fist would never actually land.
But she still cooperatively shrank her neck, then made a playful face at Zhao Silang before scampering off to gather firewood.
Shen Yulou watched the interaction between the siblings and couldn’t help but think enviously—Zhao Baozhu was truly happy.
The original owner had a biological brother.
She had a biological brother too.
But neither of their brothers was like Zhao Silang, who genuinely cherished his sister as a sister.
When she died, her biological brother was probably the happiest person, right?
After all, her private kitchen restaurant had already made a name for itself and was worth a considerable sum—her brother had been eyeing it for a long time.
And she’d died bravely subduing bandits, died so horribly—her brother wouldn’t even need to bother crafting a story. He could just sit in front of her corpse and wail a couple of times, and the flood of traffic would come pouring down.
And that was all money.
Lucky bastard.
Shen Yulou’s envy turned into a tightness in her chest, and her movements slowed considerably.
She hung her head, wilted like a little blade of grass bent over under the scorching sun, her spirit dried up.
Zhao Silang noticed her low mood and frowned, asking, “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing, it’s just… I was thinking of my family.”
“…” Zhao Silang hesitated for a moment, then lifted his foot and stomped the stone he was using to build the stove firmly into the dirt, saying in a low voice, “Don’t think about it. From now on, you’re not allowed to think about it anymore.”