The brick kiln was too far to visit, but the roof tiles still had to be transported. The leaking roof was a constant problem, and Ye Jia didn’t have enough basins to catch all the rainwater.
She hired an ox cart for twenty copper coins from the same old man she often employed. He agreed to help her haul back the one thousand small tiles.
Meanwhile, Ye Jia visited the carpenter and commissioned a crutch. When the carpenter asked Zhou Jingchen’s height, Ye Jia paused, trying to recall. She remembered standing next to him and only reaching his chin, so she vaguely gestured to the height. The carpenter nodded and fashioned a rough crutch.
Ten copper coins covered both the labor and the wood—a fair price.
Ye Jia took the crutch and climbed onto the ox cart, which was already loaded with tiles. She and the old man had become well-acquainted over time; she frequently hired his cart for trips between the town and the village.
As they made their way back, Ye Jia mentioned in passing that she was looking for someone to repair her roof.
The old man rubbed his hands together, hesitated for a moment, and then mumbled, “My younger son is hardworking. He’s strong, knows how to mix mortar and plaster, and is agile when climbing. Would you consider letting him do the job?”
Ye Jia and the old man were well-acquainted. He was a man of few words but possessed a steady honesty. His skin was tanned a deep, weathered black, his back permanently stooped, and his clothes—though tattered—were worn and grimy.
He explained that his eldest son was stationed at the garrison, never returning home. His daughter-in-law, unable to endure the hardship, had fled, leaving behind two infants still crawling on the ground. To make matters worse, his wife had fallen ill, and they needed money for medicine.
With no one to help maintain their home, the family lived in extreme poverty.
Ye Jia’s own circumstances were hardly better. Hearing his story, her heart ached, but she was powerless to help. Still, since he had asked, she considered for a moment before agreeing.
“Thirty wen a day,” she said, “and I’ll provide two meals.”
She wasn’t sure of the local labor rates, so she had calculated the wage based on her past-life experience, adjusted for local prices, and then lowered it further.
To her surprise, the old man’s eyes welled with tears at the offer. In these times, labor was cheap. He drove an ox cart in town, working from dawn until dusk to make just a few dozen wen a day, often running loads through the night. Ye Jia’s offer of thirty wen plus two meals was a clear act of kindness.
Deeply grateful, the old man slapped his chest in a solemn promise. “My younger son will do a fine job, I guarantee it.”
Ye Jia nodded. “Stack the tiles in the courtyard,” she instructed. Once they were piled up, she paid the man and told him to send his son over the next day at the hour of Si.
As soon as he left, she grabbed the crutches and went into the east room.
Zhou Jingchen could finally get out of bed. After nearly two months of convalescence, his leg had healed well. He still couldn’t bear any weight on it, however, and needed support to stand. Ye Jia brought him the crutches and helped him up. He had grown accustomed to her presence, no longer feeling awkward when she touched his hand or leg.
She handed him the crutches. Zhou Jingchen leaned on them and tried to take a step, but they were too short.
“How tall are you?” Ye Jia asked.
“A little over eight chi.”
The local measurements were similar to those of the Warring States period, meaning eight chi was roughly one hundred eighty-five to one hundred eighty-six centimeters.
Suddenly, Ye Jia walked over to him. Zhou Jingchen froze, leaning on his crutches, confused by her sudden movement. He remained still, looking down at her as she pressed close to his chest. At this distance, he could hear her breathing, and it felt as if he were holding her in his arms.
Ye Jia, pressed against him, was oblivious to his discomfort. She was too busy gesturing wildly with her hands, tracing a path from the top of her own head, angling upward, and stopping right at his chin.
Zhou Jingchen’s breath was shallow. Being this close still felt awkward. He coughed into his hand and turned his head away.
Ye Jia looked up.
He caught her hand, guiding it from his chin down to his Adam’s apple. “Here.”
Ye Jia stared at him, stunned.
She struggled to accept the reality. She had always imagined herself as a tall, slender woman with long limbs. Now, it seemed she was barely over five feet—maybe even under. No way. My legs are definitely long…
Her inner world collapsed. Her face went numb as she muttered, “You’ll just have to make do.”
Without waiting for a reply, she yanked the curtain aside and marched out.
Zhou Jingchen watched the curtain swing back and forth, then followed Ye Jia’s retreating figure, her back stiff with indignation. He blinked, finding the whole scene inexplicably amusing.
The roof repairs needed a watchful eye, and the family business couldn’t be left unattended. Ye Jia wasn’t sure if the Old Man’s son knew what he was doing, so she’d have to supervise him personally.
Ancient construction methods were divided into three grades based on the building’s status: rough-hewn, white-washed, and silk-seamed.
The Zhou family’s home, like most rural dwellings of lower status, was built using the rough-hewn method. The walls were constructed to be level and plumb, with wide mortar joints. After every thirty-seven layers of brick were laid, the structure was reinforced with peach blossom slurry—a mixture of lime and yellow clay—to strengthen the overall wall.
Repairing the roof was a simple process. Broken tiles were laid out and then sealed firmly with the same slurry. Only when it was properly reinforced would the roof withstand rain, snow, and hail without leaking.
That night, Ye Jia told Madam Yu that Zhou Jingchen would accompany her to the market the next day.
Madam Yu hesitated. “I should go instead. Yun’an’s leg isn’t fully healed yet; he won’t be able to help. You’ll just be distracted trying to look after him, and that will only slow you down.”
“He can walk on the ground now,” Ye Jia said, her brow furrowed. “I just made him a crutch, and he’s already tried walking with it. He’ll be fine.”
Madam Yu remained uneasy. She went to the east room to ask her son, but he had already decided to go.
“Mother, this place is in chaos,” Zhou Jingchen said. “Women and children are frequently kidnapped or trafficked. With Jia-niang’s beauty, would you really be at ease letting her set up a stall without a man by her side?”
Madam Yu knew all too well. At the brick kiln today, she’d seen that fat-faced man’s lecherous gaze glued to her daughter-in-law. She’d wanted to gouge his eyes out. If they hadn’t fallen on such hard times, how could a Zhou family daughter-in-law be preyed upon by such a scoundrel?
After weighing her options, she realized her son was far better suited to accompany Jia-niang. She was weaker than the girl; if trouble arose, Jia-niang would be the one protecting her.
Madam Yu stopped trying to persuade him and simply worried aloud. “The town isn’t far, but you’ll struggle with your crutch. If we still had a carriage, we’d be there in fifteen minutes. But as it is… you can’t have Jia-niang pushing you in a cart, can you?”
“Don’t worry, Mother. Jia-niang will make arrangements,” Zhou Jingchen said calmly. “Besides, I can manage this distance.”
His words brought the matter of their living arrangements back to her mind. They had been married for some time now, and though their wedding hadn’t been as lavish as those of the great families, it had been a proper union. No respectable couple slept in separate rooms indefinitely.
After hesitating, she finally asked, “Yun’an, Jia-niang may not be good at sweet talk, but she has a good heart. She’s reasonable and generous. You’ll see that once you move in with her. What do you think…”
Madam Yu had expected another refusal. Instead, her son lowered his gaze and remained silent.
Her heart stirred. She watched him intently, but a mother knows her son best. Zhou Jingchen might seem refined and gentle, but he had the hardest heart of all the brothers.
Knowing that pushing him too far would be counterproductive, Madam Yu lowered the curtain. “Never mind. Think it over.”
The next morning, Ye Jia woke before dawn, as was her custom.
Madam Yu had grown used to the early hours from helping Ye Jia at the market. As soon as the younger woman stirred, Madam Yu was already up and moving. While Ye Jia washed and dressed quickly in her room, Madam Yu was already in the back kitchen, hauling supplies. By the time the goods were brought out, Zhou Jingchen was already waiting in the main hall, fully prepared.
Outside the courtyard, an old man waited with his ox cart.
Ever since Ye Jia decided to have Zhou Jingchen accompany her to the market, she had hired the old man exclusively. He was tasked with picking them up every morning and returning them after the day’s sales. He would also handle any other transportation the Zhou family needed. In exchange, Ye Jia paid him a monthly salary of one tael of silver—on the condition that he took no other jobs and focused solely on their family’s needs.
The demand was a bit overbearing, but in truth, it was far more generous than necessary. The old man could run himself ragged all month and still not earn a single tael of silver. Ye Jia was looking out for him. He accepted the job with a thousand thank-yous and was already in the courtyard helping her move the stove, the woks, and the flatbread molds.
Once everything was packed, Ye Jia had Zhou Jingchen climb onto the ox cart and then sat down beside him.
It was mid-March, and the earth was awakening. The days were no longer cold, but the early mornings remained chilly without the sun. Ye Jia had somehow found a coarse cloth scarf and wrapped it around her head and face, just like the village women.
Sensing Zhou Jingchen’s gaze, her hands paused as she tied the knot. After a moment’s silence, she asked, “…You want one too?”
Zhou Jingchen remained silent.
After a month of nourishing medicinal tonics and being shut away indoors, he no longer looked as gaunt and severe as before. His skin, kept pale and clear from the confinement, was now strikingly fair. If one were to describe his appearance, it would be no exaggeration to say he possessed the ethereal beauty of a celestial being.
When he had first emerged, the old man, seeing this young man in the house for the first time, had nearly dropped his jaw, muttering that he looked like an immortal.
What immortal? Ye Jia grumbled softly to herself. What kind of immortal has two holes in his pants?
Zhou Jingchen fought back a smile as he glanced down at his knees. There were indeed two holes, already patched up. Though the clothes were worn, they were washed clean, and he didn’t look too shabby.
The two of them arrived in town on a single cart, and a crowd of customers immediately swarmed their stall.
Over the past month and a half, the number of people coming for the pancakes had grown steadily. They wanted to make them at home, but without the proper skill, they couldn’t replicate the flavor. Now, they craved a bite every day. A crowd was already waiting before the stall was even fully set up.
Watching them, Ye Jia felt a wave of nostalgia for her middle and high school days. Back then, a few stalls lined the school gates, and the one with the best pancakes was always surrounded by a crowd just like this every morning. People’s appetites never changed.
Zhou Jingchen found the scene quite amusing on his first visit.
Unlike Madam Yu, he had no trouble swallowing his pride. Though he still carried the refined air of a young master, he was even quicker and more efficient at counting money and keeping the books than Ye Jia. She had only brought him along to lend some prestige to the stall, but she had unexpectedly found a capable assistant. From then on, he handled all the calculations, leaving Ye Jia free to focus on frying the pancakes.
After Ye Jia finished the first batch of pancakes for the waiting crowd, she turned and pointed to the two burly men standing in front of the deer fence.
By now, Ye Jia was on familiar terms with the two men, who had become regular customers. Their patronage had contributed to the smooth running of the stall, ensuring no trouble for the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law as they conducted their business.
Without needing to be asked, Zhou Jingchen wrapped a few pancakes and set off to deliver them.
He walked slowly, leaning on his crutch. When he arrived, the two men—having learned he was the husband of the Xi Shi Stall’s proprietress—took the pancakes and sized him up.
“How is it that everyone in this family is so good-looking?” one of them remarked.
While Zhou Jingchen was away, Ye Jia remained busy at the stall. By chance, she looked up to see an acquaintance.
As she was frying pancakes, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a square face approached. He carried two shoulder poles laden with hundreds of pounds of radishes, which he set down with a heavy thud beside the stall. It was the Zhang brothers.
They didn’t recognize Ye Jia. Having traveled to the town’s tile market with about three hundred pounds of radishes to sell, they had grown hungry and sent Zhang Chunfen over to buy a couple of pancakes to tide them over. The Zhang family had grown an abundance of radishes this year, more than they could eat, and had brought the surplus to the market in hopes of a good sale.
Ye Jia didn’t know how Zhang Chunfen had persuaded her brothers to let her come along. The woman was dressed in a brand-new outfit, her face painted with rouge and powder. If her sleeves hadn’t been too short and her skirt ill-fitting, she might have looked rather pretty.
“Two pancakes, please,” she said.
Too busy to look up, Ye Jia simply made the two pancakes. Once they were ready, she wrapped them in oil paper and handed them over. As she did, she finally met Zhang Chunfen’s gaze.
Ye Jia held a spatula in one hand and chopsticks in the other. Dressed in drab, worn-out clothes, she looked even more destitute than the old women who gathered at the village entrance.
Zhang Chunfen’s narrow eyes swept over Ye Jia, and she burst into a smirk. “Well, well. Life’s so hard at the Zhou house you’ve come to sell things? And why are you here alone? Where’s your husband? Oh, that’s right—I heard your convict husband is half-dead in bed.”
Ye Jia didn’t bother to argue. Her face remained impassive as she stated simply, “Ten copper coins.”
Zhang Chunfen laughed. She had been ready to pay, but the moment she realized the seller was Ye Jia, she changed her mind. What a joke, she thought. Why should I pay for something from her? She shoved the coin back into her pocket, grabbed the pancake, and turned to leave.
She had only taken two steps before Ye Jia seized her arm. “Ten copper coins. Didn’t you hear me?”
The commotion immediately drew the attention of the surrounding crowd. People near the deer fence turned to watch. Zhou Jingchen, who had been speaking with two burly men, sensed something was wrong and hurried back.
Zhang Chunfen, accustomed to bullying others, immediately began to berate Ye Jia for her stinginess. She complained about how sisters shouldn’t charge each other, acting as if Ye Jia’s demand for payment was completely unreasonable.
Just as Ye Jia was about to retort, a clear, pleasant male voice came from behind her. “Wife, what’s happening?”
At Zhou Jingchen’s words, Ye Jia barely reacted, but Zhang Chunfen turned around and froze, stunned.