As the sun set in the west, Song Chazai entered the kitchen and began her work. Wisps of cooking smoke drifted from the house, carrying an aroma that traveled far.
Yang Hui happened to be passing by. Smelling the fragrance, she stepped directly into the courtyard and called out in a loud, familiar voice as she walked into the kitchen, “What delicious food are you making today? I could smell it from a mile away.”
Song Chazai glanced at the newcomer and said, “You have come at the perfect time. Stay and have dinner with us tonight.”
Yang Hui looked at the fish soup simmering in the pot. The broth was milky white and fragrant. Seeing someone sitting on a wooden stool nearby peeling vegetables, she asked, “What is the special occasion today?”
“Song Bo bought all these groceries. It would be a waste not to cook them,” Song Chazai replied.
Yang Hui doubted her own ears. She asked, “Who did you say bought them?”
“Song Bo,” Song Chazai answered.
Yang Hui found it hard to believe that Song Bo would actually buy groceries for Song Chazai. It was already an improvement that he had not stolen food from her house, yet now he was sending supplies? She muttered to herself, “Has this man truly changed his nature?”
Jiang Jinxi finished washing the vegetables in his hands, gave them a quick shake to drain the water, and rose from the wooden stool.
It was only then that Yang Hui saw Jiang Jinxi’s face clearly. Because he was currently working, he had tied his hair back completely, revealing a smooth forehead. Beneath slender, dark eyebrows, his eyes sparkled like jewels. His nose was small and delicate, and his lips were vermilion. He was truly a beauty.
“Jinxi, greet Madam Yang,” Song Chazai said.
“Madam Yang.” Jiang Jinxi bowed slightly while holding the vegetables. His movements were elegant, creating quite a contrast with the produce in his hands.
“Ah, what a good child,” Yang Hui responded. She then leaned in close to Song Chazai and whispered in her ear, “Whose child is this? So beautiful and well-behaved.” As the wife of the village head, she knew everyone in the village. Since she did not recognize someone as beautiful as Jiang Jinxi, the only possibility was that he was a relative visiting Song Chazai.
“He is Song Bo’s husband,” Song Chazai answered.
“What?” Yang Hui gasped in a low voice. Her husband presided over all the weddings in the village, yet she had not heard him mention any recent celebrations. “How did this happen?”
Song Chazai knew what she was asking and explained, “The family is poor, so it was a simple, hurried affair.”
Yang Hui glanced at Jiang Jinxi again, still unable to believe the truth. She wondered if Song Bo had accumulated a great deal of merit in his past life to be able to marry such a beautiful and virtuous spouse in this one.
Unable to find a plate for the vegetables, Jiang Jinxi asked, “Aunt, where should I put these?”
Since he addressed Song Chazai as “Aunt,” the matter was clearly settled.
Yang Hui sighed inwardly, feeling a deep pity for Jiang Jinxi for having married Song Bo. Although she felt sympathy, this was someone else’s family business; even as the village head’s wife, she could not interfere.
After telling Jiang Jinxi where to put the vegetables, Song Chazai asked him to carry the prepared dishes into the main hall. She then turned to Yang Hui and said, “Don’t just stand there. Give me a hand.”
Only Song Chazai, being Yang Hui’s close friend, could get away with ordering her around. Yang Hui rolled up her sleeves and joined the cooking effort.
When Liu Nanmin returned from the fields, he also helped in the kitchen. The group busied themselves for a long time, finally bringing all the dishes to the dining table by the hour of the Dog.
Jiang Jinxi went back to the side room to help Song Bo out. Seeing the spread of nine dishes and one soup, Song Bo exclaimed, “We are truly in luck tonight.”
After being impressed by the food, Song Bo turned his gaze to Yang Hui and took the initiative to greet her. “Hello, Madam Yang.”
Yang Hui had not expected Song Bo to be so polite as to greet her first. Although she still looked down on him, the saying went that one does not strike a smiling face, so she gave a small nod in response.
The group sat around the circular table. Song Bo had Jiang Jinxi on his left and Liu Nanmin on his right. Since Yang Hui was a woman, it was inappropriate for her to sit directly next to Liu Nanmin, so the seating was arranged accordingly.
“This is just a family gathering, so there are no strict rules. Everyone, please start eating.” As the elder of the household, Song Chazai said a few simple words and was the first to pick up her chopsticks.
Song Bo had been eyeing the mutton for a long time. Just as he moved his chopsticks toward it, Jiang Jinxi patted his hand and said, “This is ‘heating’ food. You cannot eat it.”
“Just a little bit,” Song Bo whispered softly to Jiang Jinxi. He had a craving for mutton and had specifically spent a good amount of money to buy a small piece to satisfy his appetite.
This was the first time Song Bo had acted somewhat spoiled. Jiang Jinxi looked into Song Bo’s watery eyes and almost softened, but he closed his eyes, cleared his thoughts, and remained firm. “No. You can only eat chicken and pork.”
Song Bo blinked twice. “Are you sure?”
“I am sure,” Jiang Jinxi refused again.
Knowing Jiang Jinxi had his best interests at heart, Song Bo did not persist. He accepted his fate, and his chopsticks changed course mid-air toward the chicken.
Seeing Song Bo obediently pick another dish, Jiang Jinxi finally lowered his hand. He had not expected such a mature man to act like a stubborn child over food.
Sitting opposite Song Bo and Jiang Jinxi, Yang Hui took in their entire interaction. She had originally thought that given Song Bo’s character, he might have bought or kidnapped this spouse. Now it seemed her worries were unnecessary; the beautiful young man appeared to have married Song Bo quite sincerely.
Noticing that Yang Hui’s gaze remained on him, Song Bo looked up and said, “Madam Yang, please eat.”
Yang Hui retracted her gaze and focused on her meal.
After dinner, Yang Hui did not leave immediately. Liu Nanmin took the dirty dishes to the kitchen to wash them, leaving the four of them in the room.
Needing a topic for post-dinner conversation, Yang Hui looked at the white bandage on Song Bo’s head and asked, “Did Song Bo hit his head?”
“His house collapsed, and he was hit by falling bricks and tiles,” Song Chazai explained.
“Then he must rest well,” Yang Hui said politely.
Speaking of the house collapsing, Song Bo had a favor to ask of Yang Hui.
“Madam Yang, there is something I would like to ask your help with,” Song Bo said.
Yang Hui was drinking tea. Hearing this, she paused with her teacup mid-air before setting it down. “What is it?” she asked.
Song Bo spoke so politely that she found it difficult to refuse him outright.
“I would like to ask you to help me find some people to repair my house,” Song Bo stated.
Winter would arrive in two months. If he did not have a house to shield them from the cold, he would have to keep imposing on Song Chazai, which he did not want to do. Taking advantage of Yang Hui’s visit, he made his request.
“Why the sudden rush?” Song Chazai was surprised, as Song Bo had not mentioned this to her. “Repairing a house costs a great deal of money.”
“Indeed. As your aunt said, building a house is expensive,” Yang Hui added. She had heard that Song Bo had been working in Chuanfu Town lately, but how much could a laborer earn? Rebuilding a house was a major undertaking; one should not even consider it without several taels in savings.
“I have my ways. If Madam Yang could just help me find the workers, that would be enough,” Song Bo said. From the twenty-five taels he earned last time, he had spent one on supplies, leaving him with over twenty-four taels. That should be enough to rebuild a main bedroom.
Hearing his vague answer, Song Chazai felt a jolt of alarm and blurted out, “You haven’t gone back to gambling, have you?”
Song Bo did not know whether to laugh or cry. “No.”
“Then where did you get so much money?” Song Chazai pressed.
Jiang Jinxi also turned his gaze toward him. With all three people in the room staring, Song Bo could not reveal that he had sold his calligraphy. He could only insist that the money came from a legitimate source and tell them not to worry.
Seeing Song Bo’s firm reply, Song Chazai did not press further. After all, Song Bo was an adult and was entitled to his secrets.
“Are you certain you can pay the workers’ wages?” Yang Hui asked.
If she helped recruit workers, they would not care who had actually hired them; they would be doing her a favor. This meant her reputation was linked to the job. If Song Bo could not pay, it would be her name that was ruined.
“I… can write a contract.” Song Bo caught himself just before the last four words escaped his lips. How could he know how to write? To them, he was currently an illiterate village man.
“What will you do?” Yang Hui asked.
“I can give you the silver in advance. You may hold onto it,” Song Bo suggested. If he could not provide a written contract, providing the cash was the only way to be convincing.
“It is the busy farming season, so there are not many people available. Since you want workers now, the wages will naturally have to be higher,” Yang Hui said truthfully, showing no favoritism despite Song Bo being her friend’s nephew.
“I understand,” Song Bo replied.
“A worker costs fifty coins a day, and you must provide their lunch. If you build a house the size of Chazai’s, you will need about ten men.” Yang Hui poured herself some water and continued, “You must buy the building materials yourself. All told, you should prepare ten taels of silver.”
This was indeed a sum that an ordinary family could not easily produce. Song Bo did not want to appear too wealthy, so he feigned a troubled look. “I cannot produce that much money all at once. I can only give you five taels for now.”
If he pulled out ten taels immediately, Song Chazai would certainly interrogate him after Yang Hui left. To avoid having to invent explanations, he claimed he did not have that much, which seemed more realistic.
“There is no need to build such a large house. Just build something sufficient for the two of you. The work will be shorter, and you can save some money,” Song Chazai suggested. Her house was large because she needed space for her medical consultations; Song Bo and Jiang Jinxi only needed a place to live.
“That is true,” Song Bo nodded. He turned back to Yang Hui. “I will provide five taels first. Would that be acceptable?”
“Since you are Chazai’s nephew, very well,” Yang Hui agreed.
Liu Nanmin happened to return at that moment, so Song Bo asked him to dig up the silver from under the bed. Fortunately, he had hidden the money in separate bundles; otherwise, if Liu Nanmin had dug up over twenty taels, he would have definitely told Song Chazai.
The location Song Bo described was easy to find. Within half an hour, Liu Nanmin returned with the money Song Bo had hidden.
Having received the money, Yang Hui promised to find him as soon as she had recruited the workers. She did not stay much longer, picking up the lantern Song Chazai gave her and heading home.