Li Sanniang stared at the village chief in disbelief, her face a mask of pure shock. “What? Village Chief, you actually ate it?”
“I did.”
The village chief stood with his hands behind his back, looking kindly at Li Miaomiao. “Li Miaomiao, could you ladle out another bowl for me? I’d like to take it home for my family. Most people won’t touch pig offal, but I’d like my wife to try it so that, perhaps, she could learn to cook it at home once in a while.”
Li Miaomiao couldn’t fathom the reason for the village chief’s sudden, inexplicable concern, but she pushed her doubts aside. “Of course, Grandpa Chief, I’d be happy to.”
There was more than enough in the large pot for her and Xiao Xian to finish on their own. She turned to grab a clean bowl, but the village chief, finding it too much trouble, waved a hand. “Just use the bowl I ate from; that will be fine.”
“But… you’ve already used it,” she hesitated. “Are you sure it’s alright?”
Noticing her meticulous care, the village chief tapped his cane against the floor. “In one’s youth, a father does not mind his son’s germs, and in old age, a son does not mind his father’s. It is perfectly fine.”
Li Miaomiao pursed her lips, thought for a moment, and headed into the main room to retrieve the bowl. With only the used bowl sitting on the table, she glanced toward the bedroom before heading back out.
The moment she left the kitchen, Li Sanniang hurried to press the village chief for answers. “Brother-in-law, did you really eat it? How is your stomach? You’re not a young man anymore; getting a stomach bug is no small matter! What were you thinking? And you want to take it home for my sister to eat?”
To her earnest, worried lecturing, the village chief only stroked his beard and let out a hearty laugh. “Sanniang, you’re just like the man bitten by a snake who fears a coiled rope for a decade. If you were to taste it, you would know exactly what a delicacy it is.”
The kitchen was filled with a tantalizing aroma. Seeing him laughing so freely without a single symptom of indigestion, Li Sanniang felt a flicker of curiosity, though she still couldn’t bring herself to try it. The memory of her own experience years ago—when she had vomited for three days and nights until she felt like she’d coughed up her own gall—still held her in its grip. She simply couldn’t bring herself to take a bite.
Li Miaomiao, a bit of a perfectionist, insisted on washing the bowl despite the chief’s protests. The village chief and Li Sanniang stood at the doorway watching her draw water and scrub the dishes, their expressions filled with pity.
“The poor child has had such a hard life,” Li Sanniang whispered. “You really should look after her, Brother-in-law.”
The village chief replied thoughtfully, “I know.”
He didn’t need Li Sanniang to remind him. He already felt a heavy burden on his conscience for having stood by and let Li Miaomiao marry Xiao Xian—a decision he’d made to keep his own granddaughter from the match. He hadn’t slept well at night. Helping Li Miaomiao would be his way of easing that guilt. He just wondered if Xiao Xian, a high-ranking official exiled from the capital, might one day be moved elsewhere.
Li Miaomiao finished washing the bowl and ladled it full of the rich pork intestine and radish soup.
“Grandpa Chief, we don’t have any food containers at home, so I’m afraid you’ll have to carry the bowl back yourself.”
“It’s no trouble at all.”
Before the chief could react, Li Sanniang stepped in and took the bowl from Li Miaomiao’s hands. “Brother-in-law, your leg is still acting up. I’ll carry it for you.”
Li Miaomiao knew that Li Sanniang was married to the village chief’s youngest brother; the whole family was close, and they never cared much for gossip.
“Auntie, let me ladle out a bowl for you, too,” Li Miaomiao offered.
Li Sanniang shook her head frantically. “Oh, please, no! I can look, but I certainly can’t eat.”
Seeing her genuine fright, the village chief spoke up for her. “Li Miaomiao, she appreciates the gesture, but that’s enough.”
“Yes, exactly! I appreciate the offer, really!” Li Sanniang added quickly.
Li Miaomiao walked them to the gate. “Grandpa Chief, Auntie, take care on your way back!”
As she watched them disappear around the bend, Li Miaomiao let out a long, puffed-up breath of relief. She shut the door, gave a little hop, and skipped back toward the kitchen.
She hummed a tune as she sliced the intestines. “I’ll keep a portion for later, and the rest I’ll smoke.”
She spent the entire afternoon busy in the kitchen, never once sparing a glance for Xiao Xian. By evening, she had steamed rice; not wanting to waste the rice water, she saved it in a basin to drink as soup. She stirred up a vegetable dish to go with a bowl of the pork intestine soup. One vegetable, two soups—the meal was ready.
By the time she set the food on the table, it was twilight, and little natural light remained. Standing in the doorway, she saw Xiao Xian leaning against the head of the bed, his gaze fixed unblinkingly on his legs. His gentle eyes were devoid of joy or sorrow, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking.
Li Miaomiao didn’t know what he had been through, but seeing him stare at his legs so often, she could imagine the devastating impact his disability must have had on him.
Xiao Xian had noticed her standing there long ago. When she remained silent for a long moment, he lifted his eyes toward her. For some reason, her heart skipped a beat under his gaze, and she quickly averted her eyes from his legs.
She cleared her throat and said, “Let’s eat.”
They ate in silence. If someone were to pass by from the outside and see the tung oil lamp glowing in the main room, they would surely assume the dilapidated shack was uninhabited. The man ate with impeccable manners, every movement radiating a sense of elegance and breeding.
Li Miaomiao watched him as she ate, her mind wandering to what Xiao Xian’s status might have been before his legs were crippled. He carries himself with such nobility even while eating; he must be educated, right?
She put down her chopsticks and asked, “Xiao Xian, are you educated?”
Xiao Xian raised his eyelids slightly, glancing calmly at the woman across from him, trying to discern her hidden motives. When she thought he was ignoring her, she brazenly repeated the question.
“Did you ever attend a private school?”
He had watched her staring so blatantly for quite some time, and now she was asking if he was educated. He was curious to see what she was truly driving at.
He replied concisely, “I have.”
Hearing that, Li Miaomiao arched her eyebrows, her mind already spinning with little calculations. “How is your handwriting?”
“Nothing fit for high society.”
Li Miaomiao didn’t entirely believe his writing was poor. They say that people who are good-looking have good handwriting, and with his refined appearance, his calligraphy should surely be just as elegant.
After dinner, Li Miaomiao washed the dishes and returned to her room. These past few days, she hadn’t been idle. She had gathered river mussels from the fields, ground their shells into powder, and mixed them with wood ash water and lard to create several cakes of soap. Since the wild chrysanthemums were in bloom, she had gathered some, dried them, ground them into powder, and added them to the mix. The soap had a faint, fresh fragrance, and once dried, it would be perfect for washing clothes.
She had also been busy crafting multifunctional wooden boxes in various styles and, on a whim, had used bamboo to fashion a few coat hangers. In this era, clothes were usually draped over wooden racks; such hangers simply didn’t exist. She set aside the most aesthetically pleasing one, planning to take it to Shopkeeper Wang to test the market when she went to the village fair.
She brought the remaining hangers into Xiao Xian’s room. Xiao Xian was sitting on the bed; hearing her footsteps, he looked up and noticed the strange objects in her hand. Shifting his thoughts, he asked calmly, “What is that in your hand?”
Having been silent all day, his voice sounded a bit hoarse. Li Miaomiao demonstrated by waving them around. “A hanger. For hanging clothes.”
A hanger? Xiao Xian frowned subtly. He hadn’t expected bamboo could be crafted into something so practical.
Li Miaomiao had intended to hang up his clothes, but upon opening the wardrobe, she found the interior shelves lacked any crossbars. She placed the hangers on the bed, rubbed her chin in thought, and turned to the man. “I’d like to take the wardrobe outside and remodel it, but I’ll need to take everything out of it first.”