As night fell, after casually roasting some sweet potatoes for dinner, Zhao Nuan settled the two children to sleep inside the house.
Shen Mingqing and Duan Zheng remained in the courtyard, gathered around the fire.
Before long, the beggar children from earlier in the evening returned, clamoring noisily for Duan Zheng to tell them stories.
Zhao Nuan peeked outside and saw a circle of dark heads—at least thirty or forty children.
She had initially been somewhat worried about the goods on the carriage, but after observing for a while, she noticed that the children, whether sitting or moving around, deliberately kept their distance from the carriage.
Listening to the occasional exclamations from outside, Zhao Nuan gently patted Zhou Ningyu.
Yan’er was already asleep, the firelight from outside the window illuminating her thin, delicate face. Zhao Nuan’s heart swelled with affection that nearly overflowed.
She had wondered more than once if Yan’er might actually be her own child. Otherwise, how could they have been brought together across time and space?
Early the next morning, Zhao Nuan rose quietly, careful not to make noise.
Outside, the bonfire had died down, and the young beggars were asleep, leaning against one another.
Their hair and eyelashes were damp with the chilly mist.
Unable to harden her heart, Zhao Nuan eventually lit the fire pit in the corner of the room and prepared a pot of ginger soup.
While she was busy, Shen Mingqing heard the commotion and came in.
“What are you doing?”
“Making some ginger soup for the children. Why didn’t you send them back to sleep? Aren’t you afraid they’ll catch a chill?”
“They’re used to it. When we drive carts for the government, we often sleep outdoors at night too.”
Zhao Nuan thought for a moment. “If you’re free, go fetch some sweet potatoes. Roasting them isn’t very warming; we can boil them with ginger to make a sweet soup.”
Shen Mingqing paused, looking at the beggar children he had essentially raised, and finally nodded.
Sweet potato skins are edible, and since conditions were so tough, there was no need to peel them.
Zhao Nuan pulled a few strands of thatch from the eaves, tied them into a bundle, and handed it to Shen Mingqing. “Use this to scrub them clean.”
Shen Mingqing tried it skeptically.
His eyes lit up—it really was cleaner than washing by hand. The sweet potato skins had many crevices, but even those could be cleaned without the pain of digging under his fingernails.
Not bothering to fetch a kitchen knife, Zhao Nuan picked up a smooth stone, washed it, broke the sweet potatoes, and pounded them with the stone.
“What method is this?” Shen Mingqing blinked, his expression puzzled.
“Boiling them this way makes the soup sweeter than slicing them.”
In her previous life, during disaster relief, villagers whose homes had been destroyed, fearing the rescuers would suffer from cold and hunger, would dig up sweet potatoes and smash them to boil like this.
Not only did they cook faster, but even without sugar, the water turned out clear and sweet.
“Wah… wuwuwu… ah wu!” Zhou Ningyu woke up.
“I’ll take over,” Shen Mingqing said, relieving Zhao Nuan.
Zhao Nuan wiped her hands and went inside to check on the children.
“Oh, my good girl has already dressed her little brother!”
Zhao Nuan entered the inner room to find Yan’er, who hadn’t yet put on her own outer garment, had already dressed Zhou Ningyu and was tying his clothes.
She walked over, pulled up the quilt, and wrapped it around Yan’er.
“You dress your brother; let Mama dress you.”
“Thank you, Mama.”
“Mangmang, aowu…”
“It’s Mama, not Mang, silly brother.”
Zhou Ningyu babbled unintelligibly, and Yan’er corrected him.
Outside, Shen Mingqing, tending the fire with his head bowed, listened to the children’s chatter and smelled the sweet aroma wafting from the pottery jar, a smile touching his lips.
“Da Ge, it smells so good.”
“Da Ge, what are you cooking?”
Outside, the young beggars were gradually waking up. A few of the bolder ones clung to the doorframe but didn’t enter the room.
“Sister Zhao was afraid you’d catch a cold, so she made sweet potato ginger soup. Go get your bowls and have a bowl each before heading to work.”
The youths scattered in a flurry and returned just as quickly.
“Thank you, Sister Zhao.”
“Thank you, sister.”
… Watching the collapsed fence, Shen Mingqing grabbed a fire poker and rushed out: “Who did this! Whoever it was, come fix this for me when you’re free!”
Soon, the youths returned to the courtyard holding various bowl-like containers.
They lined up, each receiving a bowl.
The youths sipped carefully from the edges of their bowls, filling the air with a sweet, warm fragrance.
She squeezed out a bowl of goat milk, boiled it, then added several peeled and softened sweet potatoes, mashing them into a paste.
Zhou Ningyu clearly enjoyed this sweet food, clapping his hands while eating and making happy noises.
“No, no, I don’t want it prepared this way.” Yan’er stopped Shen Mingqing from adding sweet potatoes to her goat milk.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and gulped it down in one go.
Holding her breath, she took a big sip of ginger soup: “Ah… finally masked the goat smell.”
After breakfast, the youths dispersed.
Duan Zheng asked Shen Mingqing: “Have you found a suitable house for Zhao Nuan?”
Shen Mingqing didn’t answer, instead turning to look at Zhao Nuan.
Zhao Nuan bit her lip, thinking for a moment: “Exiles aren’t allowed to live in the city, right?”
“Correct.”
“Can we find out which mountain the Zhou Family will be assigned to? I might as well go up the mountain. While the heavy snow hasn’t sealed the mountains yet, I can familiarize myself with the environment and make early preparations.”
Heavy snow would fall by the end of winter, and it was currently late September – still a month and a half to prepare.
Shen Mingqing showed that roguish smile again: “I’ve already made arrangements. Let the Zhou Family use what was prepared for the Shen Family first.”
Zhao Nuan curtsied: “Thank you. If the Shen Family ever faces such a day, I will certainly help with all my strength.”
Shen Mingqing believed her. The Zhou Family had saved her life, and now she was repaying that debt with her own life.
Shen Mingqing took out his hand-drawn map of Suizhou City: “Cross five consecutive mountains to the east and you’ll reach Yunzhou. The mountains have many oak trees, good for producing silver filament charcoal, but the peaks are steep.”
Zhao Nuan looked at the map, tracing counterclockwise from due north – all she saw were continuous mountain ranges.
The map marked over twenty mountains in the foreground, with endless, unnamed peaks stretching deeper into the distance.
“I want to go deeper.” Zhao Nuan pointed toward slightly more remote peaks. “Preferably somewhere with mountain streams, convenient for coming down in winter.”
“Coming down in winter?” Shen Mingqing frowned. “When heavy snow seals the mountains in winter, you don’t need to deliver charcoal. You can store what you produce and deliver it all when the snow melts in spring.”
Zhao Nuan hesitated: “Didn’t you say it’s dangerous to show wealth here? That’s why I want to take the Zhou Family away from others.”
“Besides, I don’t want people knowing about the things I plan to do yet.”
Shen Mingqing’s eyes suddenly turned profound. After what the Zhou Family had been through, were they developing rebellious intentions?
If that were the case, they should indeed avoid others.
A fire suddenly ignited in his heart, burning through his entire being.
“Thump!”
Shen Mingqing’s finger landed on the northeast corner of the map, striking the table and startling Zhao Nuan.
“Here!”
“This mountain is separated from Suizhou City by six peaks, with plenty of oak trees. Though distant, choosing this location is justifiable.”
“Most importantly, this mountain has a palace-sized limestone cave. There’s also a small tunnel heading southeast, with an exit just two mountains from Yunzhou Pass.”
Duan Zheng’s expression turned stern: “Mingqing!”
Shen Mingqing suddenly shook his head with a helpless bitter smile: “These two mountains are like knife cuts, towering thousands of ren high, where even birds struggle to fly.”
Zhao Nuan then asked, “Is it relatively convenient to leave the mountains?”
“Manageable. There’s a mountain stream that leads directly to the river outside the northern city gate. It’s just far, with many wild beasts in the mountains, and rarely any human traces.”
“Then this is the place!” Zhao Nuan made the final decision.
Advance leads to Suizhou and Yunzhou, retreat leads to the Shiwan Mountains where people find it hard to enter.
Moreover, who said roads must be muddy paths?
Waterways are also roads.