Gu Yu headed off in the direction he had scouted, using the entrenching shovel to beat down the tall grass as he went. He also stomped it flat with his feet, carving out a narrow path. Progress was slow, but steady.
Meanwhile, Tang Jiao began organizing their belongings. On the shelves they had originally kept several large storage bins—three or four of them, extra-large, over eighty centimeters long, fifty wide, and fifty high. Big enough for a child to bathe in, they had been meant for storing quilts and bedding. There were also a few smaller containers.
Anything that would fit went into the bins. Items that didn’t were packed into bags and placed either inside the metal wardrobe or the old ceramic water jar, making them easier to move later.
She didn’t try to carefully inventory their supplies—this wasn’t the time for that. They needed a safe place to settle first; accounting could wait.
She roughly knew what had been in their bedroom, but she still didn’t know exactly what had come with them.
By now, she was certain: they had transmigrated, and most of the bedroom supplies had come along with them.
Some things, however, hadn’t—like the bed itself, the large storage rack Gu Yu had built from wooden planks, and an old-style cupboard. None of those had appeared.
An’an was playing with the two little furballs nearby. Seeing his mother busy, he came over to help. As mother and son worked together—half tidying, half playing—joined by the cat and dog, the atmosphere gradually became lighter.
Children had a way of making people forget their worries, if only for a moment.
About an hour later, Gu Yu returned.
“There’s a large slanted rock at the base of the hillside near the open grassland,” he reported. “Between the rock and the ground there’s a hollow—not big, but enough to shelter us from rain. The weather looks unstable, and it might rain again. Let’s move there first and settle in. We’ll make further plans once the weather clears.”
Tang Jiao agreed.
By then, everything had already been packed. Together, they began moving their supplies.
After more than ten trips—pushing, dragging, pulling, and even rolling—they finally transferred everything to the spot near the rock shelter.
It wasn’t that they had an overwhelming amount of stuff—they were just short on manpower and strength, so multiple trips were unavoidable.
They did have a simple folding handcart, but its tiny wheels were useless on the uneven, grassy terrain and quickly gave up.
Fortunately, once the grass had been trampled flat, it became much easier to slide things along. Otherwise, moving everything would have been a nightmare.
By then, it was already past noon, and everyone was starving.
Thankfully, An’an was very well-behaved. He ran back and forth with them several times without complaining. Still, Gu Yu worried about exhausting him, so whenever they returned empty-handed, he carried or held the child instead. He didn’t dare leave An’an alone with the supplies, so the boy stayed with him the whole time.
They ate a simple meal, drank some water, and rested briefly. Then Gu Yu immediately headed to a small nearby grove to gather firewood.
The sky had darkened again, and it looked like night would fall soon.
Although the rain from the night before had dampened the wood, it was still usable if dried properly.
Fire would provide warmth, allow them to heat food and water, and—perhaps most importantly—offer a sense of safety through its light.
While Gu Yu gathered wood, Tang Jiao bundled wild grass together to make a makeshift broom and began cleaning the small cave beneath the rock. She cleared out loose stones, swept away dirt and fallen leaves, while An’an and the two little animals “helped”—mostly by enthusiastically getting in the way.
Gu Yu soon returned with a large bundle of dry branches. After setting them down, he went back to the tall grass area—the one they had first arrived in. Since no one knew what the grass was actually called, and it resembled thatch, they simply referred to it as “tall thatch grass.” He gathered another huge bundle.
The cave was damp, so Tang Jiao had Gu Yu light a fire inside first while there was still daylight, to dry it out and reduce the moisture.
Next, they cleared an open area around the fire site, removing nearby grass to prevent any risk of fire. Finally, they stacked stones together to form a simple fire pit, ready for boiling water and cooking.
They still hadn’t found a water source—mainly because they simply hadn’t had the time to look for one yet.
Fortunately, they had bought two cases of bottled mineral water just the day before. Each case contained twenty-four 550-ml bottles. Still, that supply wouldn’t last long.
Throughout the day, they’d been drinking water from the stainless-steel thermos and An’an’s insulated cup. Tang Jiao had boiled and filled them both the night before going to bed—the thermos held 3.2 liters, and An’an’s cup held 525 ml. She also had a large insulated bottle with a 900-ml capacity, but unfortunately, it was empty.
After a full day, the stored water was no longer hot. They needed to boil more and refill everything, just in case there came a time when lighting a fire wouldn’t be possible and they’d still need warm water.
Tang Jiao rummaged through the delivery boxes and found two pots, both newly purchased for their move to the mountains and picked up just yesterday.
One was a large stainless-steel steamer, about forty centimeters in diameter, with an impressive capacity. It came with two steaming tiers and could be fitted with two additional racks—four layers in total—perfect for steaming buns. It also included steaming cloths and a pile of other accessories.
The other was a cast-iron wok, one of those trendy brands from a couple of years ago. The seller had already seasoned it. It was thirty-six centimeters wide and came with a stainless-steel spatula.
Oh—and there was also a rice cooker, a free gift that came with An’an’s baby formula. Unfortunately, without electricity, it was completely useless.
Thinking about it, Tang Jiao felt incredibly grateful. They had bought so many supplies recently in preparation for building a small livestock farm in the mountains.
Even luckier, the deliveries had only been picked up yesterday. By the time they returned to the mountain, it was already late.
Tang Jiao had wanted to enjoy the fun of unboxing everything, so she’d opened the packages in the bedroom. As a result, the room had been piled high with cardboard boxes.
Thankfully, because it was late, she hadn’t had time to properly organize everything—she’d only unpacked them and stacked them aside. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have had any pots at all for cooking or boiling water now.
After Gu Yu finished drying out the cave, Tang Jiao and An’an completed the stone fire pit. Gu Yu used a lighter to ignite the dry grass first, then slowly added the damp firewood. It produced a lot of smoke, but it burned well enough.
Tang Jiao opened three bottles of mineral water and poured them into the cleaned steamer. She set the steaming rack in place, added three steamed buns, and placed the pot over the fire.
The buns had been made just yesterday when Tang Jiao visited her parents. Her mother had steamed them fresh over a traditional clay stove.
The whole family loved Tang Mom’s buns—completely handmade, kneaded for a long time, wonderfully chewy. She never used commercial yeast, only her own homemade starter, called “jiaozi” in the local dialect.
Buns made with this starter had a unique fragrance and became more flavorful the longer you chewed. And when steamed in a clay stove, the side touching the pot developed a golden, crispy crust—An’an and Tang Jiao loved that part more than anything.
Freshly steamed buns, split open and stuffed with Tang Mom’s homemade fermented watermelon bean paste—two big buns could disappear in no time.
Just thinking about it makes my mouth water…
After yesterday’s meal, there were still twenty or thirty buns left, all of which her mother had packed for them to take home.
Thank you, Mom… I miss you so much…
Tang Jiao kept herself busy, her thoughts running wild, but the fear in her heart never showed on her face.
Meanwhile, Gu Yu brought back another large bundle of tall grass and laid it around the fire pit to dry. Once dried, it could be spread across the uneven cave floor at night, with mats laid on top—making it much warmer and more comfortable to sleep on.
An’an bustled happily between his parents, helping here, carrying things there, and playing with the two little furballs in between. He was busy and delighted all at once.
Everyone worked together, each absorbed in their task—and before long, the meal was ready.