The cold wind howled outside, rattling the windows. Shen Zhihe followed the sound, her heart filled with worry as she gazed at the paper-covered windows.
“Elder sister, don’t go, don’t leave Zhian alone.” The tearful voice of her young brother came from behind her.
Shen Zhihe’s heart instantly softened. She crouched down, brushed her hand over Shen Zhian’s head, then took his hand that was outside the quilt and gently tucked it back into the sun-softened, fluffy cotton blanket. Her eyes curved into gentle arcs. “Don’t be afraid, Zhian. Elder sister isn’t going anywhere. You caught a chill outside today. Elder sister is going to heat some water.”
As soon as she finished speaking, the feverish and dazed Shen Zhian fell into a deep sleep. Shen Zhihe slowly stood up, tucked in his quilt corners, then followed the original host’s memories toward the kitchen. Her young brother now had a fever from the cold and needed to bring down the heat promptly. Being in ancient times now, medical knowledge wasn’t as advanced as in the modern world – even a minor cold could potentially take someone’s life.
Thinking of this, Shen Zhihe quickened her pace. Before long, she found the kitchen located in the southeast corner of the residence. She lifted the cloth curtain and stepped inside, where two large vats came into view. Under normal circumstances, she would have certainly checked what was inside those vats, but now, anxious about her younger brother’s condition, she quickly bypassed the two large vats along the wall and hurried inward.
Seeing the empty earthen stove opening before her, her heart sank. It seemed there was no firewood at home. With heavy snow falling outside, where could she find materials to start a fire? Shen Zhihe stood frozen for a moment, then suddenly her eyes lit up.
She vaguely remembered that when the original host lived here with her parents as a child, her father had specifically cut bamboo from the back hill and built a small shed in the courtyard specifically for storing firewood, because her mother was pregnant with her younger brother at the time and he was afraid she might trip over firewood when entering and leaving the kitchen.
Shen Zhihe hurried toward the door. As soon as she opened it, the cold wind seeped through the door crack, making her shiver involuntarily. She hunched her shoulders and ran toward the bamboo shed not far away. To her delight, the shed still contained quite a lot of dried firewood. Judging by the amount, it should be enough to get through this winter.
She picked up several pieces of firewood and held them in her arms, then walked to one side and grabbed a bundle of flammable soybean stalks before jogging back to the house. Soon after, she was seen walking out of the house carrying a wooden bucket. Shen Zhihe looked at the thick snow outside and couldn’t help but sigh.
Although the house had a heated kang bed, it had been so long that she didn’t know if it was still functional. For now, she could only heat some water and prepare a hot-water bottle for Zhian.
The heavy snow that had fallen for three days gradually stopped. Suddenly, a dull thud came from outside. Startled, Shen Zhihe quickly walked to the window and saw that the grass shed in the courtyard had collapsed under the weight of the accumulated snow. Looking at the mess outside, she could only shake her head with a bitter smile.
The firewood crackled in the stove. Shen Zhihe watched the dancing flames, unconsciously poking at the firewood with the fire tongs in her hand, her thoughts drifting far away. It had been three days since her plane crash – she should have died, but never expected to open her eyes and find herself here.
The original host’s memories flooded her mind, but before she had time to sort them out, she had been driven out of the Shen family main house. She and Shen Zhian had then moved to that shop. Speaking of which, the shop seemed to have previously sold noodles. The original host’s father had established himself in a small town at the Northern Border with his excellent culinary skills.
Gradually, life was getting better, but fate had other plans. An unexpected epidemic took the lives of the original host’s entire family of three. The original host passed away in her sleep, and it was then that Shen Zhihe awoke.
Strangely, though the epidemic struck fiercely, not a single person from the main branch of the Shen family fell ill.
“Cough, cough, cough.” Suddenly, a fit of violent coughing came from inside the room. Shen Zhihe’s heart tightened, and she immediately set down the fire tongs in her hand, hurrying into the bedroom. There, she saw Shen Zhian, who had been sleeping, now with his eyes slightly closed, his forehead covered in sweat, and his mouth slightly open as he gasped for breath, as if the coughing fit had drained him of all his strength.
Shen Zhihe reached into his collar, touching his damp inner garment. Her brows furrowed slightly. With little money on hand, she couldn’t afford to call a doctor.
Fortunately, though she had been a food blogger in her previous life, she had some knowledge of traditional culture from ancient times. While not a certified physician, she knew a few remedies for colds and fevers.
For such a chill, all that was needed was scallion whites with roots and sliced old ginger, stewed with brown sugar and consumed while hot to reduce the fever. Although she had taken some spices from the shop’s kitchen when she left earlier, this house had been vacant for so long that scallion whites with roots were hard to come by.
Shen Zhihe pondered for a moment, then suddenly remembered that an elderly woman seemed to live next door in the neighboring courtyard. She guessed she might find scallion whites there. With this thought, she fished five copper coins from her bundle and hurried outside.
Outside, the sky was gradually darkening. Shen Zhihe made her way through the snow by the faint glow on the horizon, arriving at the neighboring house. The wooden gate was tightly shut, with only a sliver of light seeping through the cracks. Without worrying about propriety, she raised her hand and knocked on the gate.
After about the time it takes for half an incense stick to burn, Shen Zhihe heard dragging footsteps from inside, followed by a hoarse, rough voice: “Who’s there?”
As the door latch clicked open, a tall, thin middle-aged woman peered out. Her chin was sharp, her cheekbones prominent, giving her an unapproachable appearance. Anyone else seeing her might have been too intimidated to speak and would have left immediately.
But with Shen Zhian ill in bed, and Shen Zhihe having seen all sorts of people in her time, she was not the least bit intimidated. She immediately put on a smile, curtsied slightly, and said, “I apologize for disturbing your peace, Wang Niangzi. My younger brother and I have just moved here today, and we have no scallions or vegetables at home. I wonder if I could exchange some with you?”
Upon hearing this, the woman leaned against the doorframe, her sunken eyes scrutinizing Shen Zhihe up and down. Suspicion crossed her mind: Hadn’t the Shen family moved to the three-courtyard house at the end of the street long ago? Who was this young woman before her?
“Which family’s young lady are you? Why are you here? What is your relation to Shen Erlang?”
“I am Shen Erlang’s daughter. Originally, my younger brother and I lived in the Shen Residence with my uncle’s family. Unfortunately, a few days ago, our parents succumbed to an epidemic. Seeing that my brother and I had no one to support us, my aunt drove us out. We had no choice but to move here. But this house has been vacant for so long that we have no scallions or vegetables. Could I exchange some with you?” Shen Zhihe stood outside the gate, her eyes slightly reddened. She opened her palm, revealing five copper coins.
Upon seeing the copper coins, the woman immediately beamed with delight. She affectionately looped her arm through Shen Zhihe’s and led her into the house, saying with a smile, “My husband passed away early. Back when Shen Erlang and your mother still lived here, the two of them often came to help me, a widow with a child. As for Shen Dalang, he has been lazy and gluttonous since he was young. Before your Shen family made their fortune, Shen Dalang was always stealing chickens and dogs outside. Now, thanks to the money your father earned, he dresses up like a proper man. But enough of that. Now that your parents have passed away, if you ever need anything in the future, you can come find me here.”
“In that case, thank you, Wang Niangzi.”
As they spoke, the two arrived at the kitchen. Wang Niangzi released Shen Zhihe’s hand and hurried over to a wooden bucket on one side of the kitchen. She lifted the lid and pulled out several large green onions still covered in soil. Then, she walked to the other side and opened a wooden crate. Shen Zhihe saw a pile of Chinese cabbage inside. Wang Niangzi casually picked up a slightly larger cabbage and walked back to Shen Zhihe’s side.
Just as Wang Niangzi was about to hand the cabbage and green onions to Shen Zhihe, some noise came from outside. Moments later, a burly man walked in from the door. He stared in surprise at the unfamiliar yet beautiful young woman in the room, his dark cheeks flushing slightly. He lowered his head somewhat shyly and asked, “Mother, who is this young lady?”
Wang Niangzi’s gaze shifted between the two, finally settling on the man’s flushed cheeks. A knowing smile appeared on her face. She was about to take Shen Zhihe’s hand to introduce her, but before she could speak—
Shen Zhihe seemed to sense something amiss, or perhaps she was worried about Shen Zhian, who was lying ill at home. She avoided the woman’s outstretched hand and offered an apologetic smile. Placing the copper coins in her hand on the wooden table behind her, she bowed slightly to Wang Niangzi and said, “I have sweet potatoes stewing at home today, so I won’t disturb you any longer. This is the payment for the vegetables. Thank you, Niangzi.”
With that, Shen Zhihe took the vegetables from Wang Niangzi and headed out the door.
Unbeknownst to her, the mother and son behind her seemed to have developed other thoughts about her.
Carrying the cabbage and green onions, Shen Zhihe hurried home. The water she had poured into the pot earlier was already boiling. She quickly walked to the bedroom and saw Shen Zhian curled up under the covers, his brows tightly furrowed, likely sleeping restlessly. She rummaged through her bundle and pulled out a hot-water bottle. Returning to the kitchen, she filled it with hot water, wrapped it in a cloth, and tucked it into Shen Zhian’s bedding.
After finishing this, Shen Zhihe returned to the kitchen. She washed the green onions she had brought from Wang Niangzi’s house with well water, cut off the green leaves, keeping only the white parts with roots. She then took a piece of old ginger, sliced a few pieces, and tossed them into the pot with the green onion whites to stew.
While the stew simmered, Shen Zhihe took out the seasonings she had brought from the shop and arranged them one by one on the table. She examined the jars and bottles, roughly identifying them. The commonly used ones were all there, though the salt was not as refined as in modern times—it was coarse salt. Still, it was better than nothing. As she set down the salt jar, she was pleasantly surprised to find that the two sugar jars seemed nearly full. Perhaps because this was a northern region where people generally disliked sweet foods, the sugar had hardly been used, which worked to her advantage.
Shen Zhihe weighed the sugar jar in her hand, a faint smile curling at the corners of her lips. In her previous life, she had gained considerable knowledge about ancient times, and she knew that salt and sugar were precious commodities. Fortunately, her father had prepared ample supplies. She opened one of the sugar jars and found the brown sugar she needed. Suppressing her reluctance, she gritted her teeth and scooped a generous spoonful into the Ginger Soup. After stirring it well, she waited for the time it takes an incense stick to burn before ladling the soup into a bowl.
Holding the bowl, she hurried toward the bedroom. Shen Zhihe placed it on the wooden table, then quietly dragged the table to the bedside. Sitting down, she gently lifted Shen Zhian and coaxed softly, “Zhian, drink this bowl of Ginger Soup. Sweat it out, and you’ll feel better by tomorrow.”
Burning with fever and barely conscious, Shen Zhian trusted her completely. Leaning forward with Shen Zhihe’s support, she finished the bowl of Ginger Soup and drifted back to sleep.
Concerned about Zhian’s condition, Shen Zhihe had no energy to prepare elaborate meals. She simply made a soup with the cabbage obtained from Wang Niangzi and made do with that.
Outside, the sky had darkened. Sitting by the bed, Shen Zhihe gazed at Shen Zhian’s flushed cheeks in the dim firelight, her heart filled with anxiety. Although she had saved some silver, without any income, they would eventually deplete their resources. Moreover, Shen Zhian, born prematurely, had always been frail and required frequent doctor visits and medicine—another significant expense.
She needed to find a way to earn money. Leaning her head against the wall, Shen Zhihe recalled Wang Niangzi’s words from earlier: her uncle had apparently been a scoundrel since childhood.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her head. Clutching her forehead, she took a moment to recover and remembered—the debt her father owed was actually incurred by her uncle, who had gambled away money and borrowed it under her father’s name. When her mother found out, she had insisted on separating from the main family branch. A pang of heartache seized Shen Zhihe, and she crouched down, covering her face.
“Go in peace. I will seek justice for you,” the young girl’s soft voice murmured in the quiet room.
Pulling herself together, Shen Zhihe hurried back to the kitchen. Lifting the lids of two large jars, she found them filled with sweet potatoes and golden soybeans. Delight surged within her. In the original host’s memories, the Northern Border seemed to lack foods like tofu brain. With this large jar of soybeans, she could make and sell tofu brain.
She scooped out a generous amount of soybeans to soak in clean water, then washed two sweet potatoes. After finishing these tasks, she covered the fire in the stove, straightened up, stretched, and gazed through the window at the distant mountains.
Life now held a glimmer of hope. As the night deepened, Shen Zhihe drifted into a deep sleep, filled with dreams of the future.