Chang Jinhua wore a robe that she didn’t usually wear. She had ironed it with a kettle early in the morning, and her hair was styled with osmanthus oil and combed neatly. She also wore an old-fashioned silver hairpin.
Aunt Tian was put in charge of cooking in the kitchen, with Man Ge’er assisting her. Chang Jinhua took out a small wooden box from the house and opened it in front of everyone. Inside were seven or eight small silver coins, about ten taels in total.
Her eyes welled up with tears, and her voice choked slightly as she said, “Wan-ge’er’s family is gone, but we’ve prepared all the necessary betrothal gifts and matchmaking fees. We can’t bully them just because their parents aren’t here.”
The clan chief stroked his beard and said, “Youmin’s wife is a reasonable person, so it should be like this.”
Chang Jinhua bowed respectfully to the clan chief.
Zhang Xiaoyu was sitting at the table waiting to eat when he heard this and rolled his eyes. “She’s so good at dealing with people. She handed over so much money to a young man who hasn’t even married into the family yet. I wonder what you two will do if he takes the money and runs away.”
Last time, before my nephew left, he mocked him a lot, blaming him for not finding out clearly that the young man was already engaged, and for not arranging a marriage for him sooner.
The Song family is so tight-lipped, and they only told his man about the engagement two days before it was to happen. How was he supposed to know?
There were a few rumors in the village, but Song Tingzhou, who had only studied for two years, was usually very arrogant and looked down on everyone. Who knew he would actually marry an orphan with no parents?
In ancient times, such people were considered taboo, believed to bring misfortune to their parents and be unlucky. If a woman became a widow, she would be the subject of gossip and slander behind her back.
Chang Jinhua had suffered in this situation, which made her feel even more sorry for Meng Wan, while Song Tingzhou didn’t care at all; he was already lucky to have managed to keep him here.
Chang Jinhua spared no expense on today’s feast, which included chicken stew with mushrooms, braised pork, braised pork with pickled cabbage, stewed carp, stewed cabbage with tofu, cold shredded radish salad, stir-fried bean curd with cabbage slices, and a bowl of egg drop and winter melon soup.
Zhang Xiaoyu’s face was covered in oil from eating. Uncle Song, feeling ashamed, frowned and scolded him: “You ungrateful wretch, all you do is eat. Go and help your sister-in-law.”
Zhang Xiaoyu was afraid of his man, so he reluctantly got up from his seat and went to the kitchen to look around.
Chang Jinhua was overjoyed today and was giving him face. With a smile on her face, she said, “When the guests leave, please stay and help clear the table. If you don’t mind, you can take a few leftover dishes home.”
Zhang Xiaoyu was flattered. This was the first time Chang Jinhua had ever been so kind to him. Even the vegetables on the table were glistening with oil, and they smelled much better than his own. He nodded hurriedly and, after the guests finished eating and were chatting, he diligently got to work.
Chang Jinhua sighed and said to Meng Wan, “Your second aunt is also a person with a hard life. He has a bad tongue, but he is still quite hardworking.”
Uncle Song was so drunk that he was about to fall asleep on the spot, and Dali and Song Tingzhou had to carry him home.
He was an alcoholic for many years. Although he looked tall and strong, he was actually incredibly lazy. Zhang Xiaoyu had to manage all the family’s few acres of land by himself, which damaged his health. No wonder he had no children.
But when a young man has no children, all the gossip is directed at him. No one cares why he can’t have children; they just think he’s a barren hen, for no reason at all.
Chang Jinhua told Meng Wan not to get involved in the kitchen work today, so he sat down to eat the meal with a clear conscience. Then he watched Man Ge’er and the others busy inside and outside, and he felt a little uncomfortable.
No wonder experts say it takes 21 days to form a habit. He did housework at his uncle’s house for many years, and then worked for the Song family for half a year in this era. If he could travel back to the modern world one day, he would save up money to open a housekeeping company.
After seeing off the guests with Chang Jinhua, Meng Wan returned to his room when he realized she didn’t need him anymore. He had just put the keepsakes Song Tingzhou had given him and the betrothal money Chang Jinhua had given him into the cabinet, and now that no one was in the room, he took them out.
There’s not much to say about the betrothal gift; under the red cloth that Song Tingzhou gave was indeed a small, long and narrow wooden box.
Meng Wan lifted the lid, revealing a slender silver hairpin with a rounded cloud-shaped head.
He subconsciously took it out and weighed it in his hand; it was solid and weighed about an ounce.
Meng Wan was speechless. It really was true. Last time he pushed his silver away, and this time he’s going to replace it with a silver hairpin? Weren’t his shoes a bit too casual?
It seems like this engagement wasn’t a bad deal; I got ten taels of silver as a betrothal gift and a silver hairpin.
After tidying up the kitchen, Chang Jinhua gave a red envelope to Aunt Tian, but she refused to accept it, and the two started pushing each other in the kitchen.
”I just cook a quick meal for these two tables, and it isn’t worth taking your red envelope. Otherwise people will think I’m unreasonable person.”
“If you don’t accept it, people will gossip. You’ve been busy all day, so hurry up and take it home to rest.” Chang Jinhua’s way of dealing with people has always been impeccable.
Aunt Tian was really embarrassed to accept the money. In the past, she would be busy from dawn to dusk for the wedding banquet. She could handle the two tables of people from the Song family all by herself, not to mention that Man Ge’er was helping her from the side.
She refused to accept anything, but Chang Jinhua insisted on giving it to her. Meng Wan then lifted the curtain pieced together from scraps of cloth and came out. This curtain had been hung up after the weather turned cold, to block out some of the wind.
He then urged, “Auntie, please accept it. You usually earn money with your skills. If you don’t accept it, we’ll be embarrassed to invite you to our family’s next event after the New Year.”
Chang Jinhua glared at Meng Wan and said to Aunt Tian, ”My son is shameless. He can even casually bring up his own marriage.”
Then, taking Aunt Tian’s hand, she stuffed the red paper packet into her arms, saying, “My family will need your help after the New Year, so don’t be shy about asking me for favors then.”
Aunt Song also tried to persuade her, and Aunt Tian had no choice but to take the red cloth, but she refused to take the meat and vegetables no matter what.
Chang Jinhua divided the leftovers among Zhang Xiaoyu and Aunt Song, and before leaving, she gave Aunt Song a bag of candy. “You don’t need to refuse me. A matchmaker shouldn’t give such a meager gift. If you don’t even want this, you really look down on me.”
Aunt Song accepted it generously and said with a smile, “Then I can do matchmaking so easily without having to use my tongue.”
”I won’t see you off. Take Mange’er back quickly. We’ll need you as an elder for the wedding after the New Year.” Chang Jinhua knew she was a straightforward person, so she didn’t exchange pleasantries with her.
”Sister-in-law, I’m leaving now.” Zhang Xiaoyu was envious of Aunt Song’s candy, but he was still carrying the basket that Chang Jinhua had given him, filled with meat and vegetables. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything sarcastic.
”Wait here.” Chang Jinhua pushed open the back door, took down the basket hanging above it, which was full of frozen tofu cut into small pieces and solidified together. Chang Jinhua then took another small basket, knocked some frozen tofu down, filled the small basket, and handed it to Zhang Xiaoyu.
”Take the food you eat with braised cabbage or sauerkraut back home.”
Zhang Xiaoyu took the basket blankly. He had heard the villagers talk about the frozen tofu that Chang Jinhua sold at the market, and this must be it.
He looked down at the small pieces in the basket and said in a muffled voice, “Then I’ll return the basket in a bit.”
Chang Jinhua said, “No rush, it’s too late today, let’s do it tomorrow.”
Zhang Xiaoyu walked away carrying two baskets in each hand. He lived in the village, and some villagers who saw him carrying baskets asked him, “Brother Yu, did you come from your sister-in-law’s house? Oh my, Widow Song is willing to give you so many things? You didn’t steal them, did you?”
Zhang Xiaoyu looked up and cursed, “Bullshit! Did an icicle smash your head in? You’re spouting nonsense. You went and made a nuisance of yourself at your sister-in-law’s celebration—did you just assume everyone else is as unwelcome as you are?!”
Aunt Song, who had been gossiping, changed her expression and sneered, “Who’s as stupid as you? Everyone in the village knows that Widow Song looks down on you.”
Zhang Xiaoyu proudly fiddled with his basket, revealing it brimming with frozen tofu and meat and vegetables. His mouth almost twisted to the sky. “How my sisters-in-law treat me is none of your business. But your branch, with six brothers, have you ever seen your five sisters-in-law visit your house during holidays?”
Aunt Song pointed at him with a trembling finger, “You…you idiot!”
When it comes to cursing, Zhang Xiaoyu is truly a master in the village. No wonder few people gossip about his reputation outside; no one can out-curse him.
Aunt Song was quickly defeated by him. Zhang Xiaoyu walked home with high spirits and ran into Song Tingzhou and Song Dali, who were bringing their drunken second uncle back.
”You’re going back so soon? Why don’t you stay a little longer?” Zhang Xiaoyu subconsciously tried to put the basket on his back, but then felt awkward halfway through. It was a gift from Song Tingzhou’s mother, not something he stole. Why was he carrying it on his back?
”No, Second Aunt.” Song Tingzhou’s words were as brief as ever.
Song Dali continued, “Second Aunt, we just carried Second Uncle onto the kang (heated brick bed), but since no one is home, we didn’t dare light a fire to heat it. You should go back and check on things; we two brothers won’t stay any longer.”
Zhang Xiaoyu forced a fake smile and said, “Okay.”
After he left, Song Dali said to the taciturn Song Tingzhou beside him, “Did Second Aunt enjoy the banquet today?” He usually ignored them, the younger generation, but today he actually took the initiative to invite them.
”may be.”
Song Tingzhou replied absentmindedly. He was in a hurry to get home. He was tall and had long strides, but after parting ways with Song Dali, he hesitated at the gate of his own courtyard.
Chang Jinhua was in the kitchen, putting the leftover raw meat into a basket and hanging it under the eaves. She turned around and saw her son standing outside the door. “Dalang, why don’t you come in?”
Song Tingzhou then stepped inside, and the first question he asked was, “Where is Wan-ge’er?”
Chang Jinhua smiled, “Inside the house.”
Song Tingzhou walked in but then turned and went into his own room. There wasn’t a single book in his book box. He opened it and found something wrapped in red cloth.
He had guessed that there were shoes inside as soon as he held them in his hands. Now, after lifting the red cloth, he found that they were indeed new indigo cotton shoes. The stitches were uneven, with some thick and some thin. There was also too much cotton stuffing inside the shoes, which made the space inside too small. He wondered if he could even wear them.
Song Tingzhou sat on the kang and took off his shoes. He was about to try them on, but then put them down again, afraid of getting them dirty. He wanted to go out to fetch water to wash his feet, but Chang Jinhua was outside. He smiled and measured from distance – the length was just right.
When Meng Wan heard them talking inside the house, he thought Song Tingzhou wanted to talk to him, but after waiting for a long time, there was still no response.
Chang Jinhua called out from the kitchen, “I’m going to your sixth aunt’s house, Wan-ge’er, heat up the kang (heated brick bed) in a bit.”
After she left, Meng Wan lifted the curtain and went outside to get some firewood. Song Tingzhou from across the hall also lifted his curtain and came out.
”I’ll go.” Song Tingzhou didn’t waste any words; he had already walked out after saying those three words.
It was just a small job, anyone could do it. Meng Wan moved a small wooden stool and sat by the stove, waiting for him to bring firewood.
Song Tingzhou set a bundle of firewood down beside him. There were already two stacks of wood piled by the doorway, but winter consumed fuel rapidly; to avoid freezing, the fire had to be lit twice a day—once in the morning and once in the evening.
They hadn’t lit the fire that morning, and while they had burned plenty at midday to entertain guests, if they didn’t heat the *kang* again after dark, they would inevitably be jolted awake by the cold in the dead of night.
”Go inside and stay here, I’ll start the fire.” Song Tingzhou’s tone was calm, not much different from before, but Meng Wan felt that he hadn’t looked at him much today. At this moment, he also focused his gaze on the firewood and spoke to him.
“Now that we’re engaged, there’s no need for such formalities as before.” Meng Wan lit a few flammable bean stalks with a flint and threw them into the stove, then looked up at him.
Song Tingzhou looked back and met Meng Wan’s smiling face. He then lowered his head again, his earlobes turning red.
Before they were unaware of each other’s thoughts, after they got engaged, Meng Wan seemed more open and honest than him.
Meng Wan continued adding firewood to the stove, saying calmly, “Now that we’re engaged, there are some things I should tell you frankly.”
Song Tingzhou’s heart tightened. He knew nothing about Meng Wan’s past. He only heard Chang Jinhua say that she bought Meng Wan from a slave trader. According to the slave trader, Meng Wan was a servant in a wealthy family in the south. He was sold to such a faraway place because he offended his master.
Having witnessed true wealth and nobility, and possessing such handsome looks, would he truly be willing to marry him? A poor scholar who couldn’t even pass the imperial examinations…
Song Tingzhou’s voice was dry, and he forced out two words, “You say.”
Meng Wan added the last bit of firewood, clapped his hands, and stood up. He coughed lightly, “Um… when you have free time while studying, could you help me write a few calligraphy or paintings?”
Song Tingzhou, who was initially in a state of turmoil, was instantly calmed by his words. He asked in astonishment, “Calligraphy and painting?”
Meng Wan scooped water to wash his hands, then said, “Come with me for a moment.”
He stepped into the small house first, while Song Tingzhou hesitated. After all, they were not yet married, and it was not appropriate for them to be in the same room.
”Come in quickly!”
After Meng Wan urged him a second time, Song Tingzhou stepped inside.
After getting engaged, Meng Wan became much more relaxed. Without even saying hello, he directly opened the cabinet and took out a few scraps of paper.
”Could I borrow a calligraphy brush? A worn-out one would be fine.”
Song Tingzhou immediately took out a calligraphy brush and inkstone from the cabinet, and placed a four-cornered kang table on the kang. “If you want to practice calligraphy, I will go to town to buy you some more brushes and ink.”
Meng Wan said calmly, “No need for that. We’ll prioritize you for now. I can practice later when we have the means at home.”
Upon hearing this, Song Tingzhou’s heart skipped a beat; it seemed that Wan-ge’er was treating him differently than before.
Meng Wan had never studied calligraphy, but his high school deskmate, who claimed to be a great contemporary writer, would often show off his calligraphy skills to him, so he knew the basic elements of using a brush.
He knelt on the kang (a heated brick bed), leaning slightly forward, leaving a small gap between his body and the square table. His hands were naturally separated; his left arm swept to press down on the paper, while his right palm was hollow, his fingers slightly bent, gripping the brush handle with his thumb, index finger, and middle finger. His wrist was relaxed, and he lightly dipped the brush into the inkstone. He then tilted the brush slightly above the paper, with the tip pointing towards himself, moving his wrist and palm in sync…
Meng Wan struck a really cool pose, even intimidating Song Tingzhou, who then wrote a load of rubbish.