From that point onward, Zhou Qingling officially moved to sleep in the kitchen stove room.
The advantage was that she finally had a room of her own. At night, she could secretly eat small meals, and she could freely enter her storage space without having to sneak to the toilet anymore. More importantly, she could now openly make candles.
The disadvantage was the overwhelming smell of smoke and dust. It was summer, humid and stuffy, and her body often felt sticky and uncomfortable, which was quite unbearable. But there was no other choice.
With the silver she had originally given Lin Guihua no longer existing in the book’s original path, and with the earlier conflicts before marriage, her position in the Zhou Family was obvious.
On the second day after Lin Guihua married into the family, Mother Zhou woke up earlier than usual.
Barely dawn had broken when Mother Zhou called Lin Guihua up and shoved a basin of dirty clothes into her arms.
It had only been a day since the wedding, and Lin Guihua got up still looking shy and bashful.
When Zhou Guanghai saw his mother knocking on the door and calling his wife’s name directly, he also got up groggily.
Seeing the pile of dirty clothes in front of his wife, Zhou Guanghai spoke before Lin Guihua could say anything, rubbing his eyes.
“Mother, it’s not even light yet. Why are you waking us up? Aren’t the family’s clothes always washed by Lao San?”
Seeing her son wake up too, Mother Zhou felt a pang of heartache.
“Why are you getting up? Go back and sleep a bit more.”
Such blatant double standards.
Turning back to Lin Guihua, she said unhappily: “Which family’s new wife doesn’t get up before dawn to work? I didn’t even need to call you and you’re already clinging to your man all day long. Tsk, such an improper thing.”
These words were extremely harsh, causing Lin Guihua’s face to flush red instantly. She lowered her head like a quail and whispered: “Mother… I didn’t.”
“Stop standing there. Hurry up and wash the clothes, then cook the meals, clean the chicken coop and pigpen. Do you expect me, your mother-in-law, to serve you instead?”
Hearing this, Lin Guihua immediately acted as if she had received an imperial decree. She knew this was her mother-in-law giving her a first lesson in authority, but there was nothing she could do—she had such a family background. She quickly hugged the basin and left.
Seeing her obedient posture, Mother Zhou’s anger eased somewhat.
Her difficulty with Lin Guihua was not without reason. First, she was enjoying the authority of having been a daughter-in-law and finally becoming a mother-in-law herself.
Second, she was deliberately making things hard for Lin Guihua, still remembering how this little wretch had once encouraged her son to go on a hunger strike against the family. In truth, it had not been Lin Guihua’s idea, but Mother Zhou did not care and firmly believed it was her doing.
Third, she was establishing rules and suppressing her daughter-in-law early, to prevent her from ever riding over her head in the future.
Zhou Qingling, who was sleeping in the kitchen room, heard everything clearly.
However, she showed no intention of getting up. First, breakfast was not ready yet.
Second, she had absolutely no intention of getting involved. Why would she? She was not foolish enough to step into a conflict between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law and become collateral damage. She simply closed her eyes and fell back asleep on the wooden bed.
That day, Zhou Qingling had one of the rare ready-made meals.
In the following period, her life became significantly easier than before.
Since Mother Zhou intended to discipline Lin Guihua, most household chores were shifted away.
Zhou Qingling only occasionally gathered pig fodder and went up the mountain to dig wild vegetables. Her days became unusually relaxed.
As for how much work there was in the house, Mother Zhou, who had worked as a daughter-in-law for half her life, naturally knew it all too well. She could clearly see how leisurely Zhou Qingling was.
But even if Lao San was not her favorite, she was still her own flesh and blood—closer than an outsider daughter-in-law could ever be.
At this point, Zhou Qingling finally understood why dramas always had so many quarrelsome sisters-in-law and elder sisters-in-law. As long as the main conflict remained in front, everything else became insignificant.
When she had free time, Mother Zhou began teaching Zhou Qingling needlework. A girl who could not sew would be ridiculed when she married into another family.
Zhou Qingling only knew basic mending. She had never learned to make clothes. First, there had never been fabric at home for her to practice on. Second, in rural households, few people made new clothes every year anyway—“wear new for three years, wear old for three years, and mend for another three years” was the reality.
Mother Zhou took out a piece of new cloth and planned to make a long robe for Zhou Guanghe. In the household, only Zhou Guanghe, the scholar, was allowed to wear outer garments.
Naturally, Zhou Qingling was not allowed to cut the fabric. Mother Zhou feared she would ruin it, so she only explained the steps while she listened. After Mother Zhou finished cutting, Zhou Qingling was allowed to sew.
Mother Zhou looked at her stitches and said nothing. Only then did Zhou Qingling feel relieved—it seemed she had passed inspection.
It felt like a supervisor watching over work; any employee would inevitably feel tense.
The garment was not complicated. With no embroidery on the cuffs or collar—skills Mother Zhou did not possess anyway—rural families did not care for such refinement. Only scholars or wealthy people cared about elegance; villagers cared only about durability.
With simple design, the two of them finished it in half a day.
At night, the village was very dark.
“Wang, wang, wang.”
“Croak, croak.”
Occasional frog calls echoed through the night, not lively but rather quiet and tranquil.
The village had only faint starlight, flickering weakly.
Even that dim glow was not as bright as the fireflies in front of Zhou Qingling.
At this time, there were no streetlights. Except for scholar households, ordinary families did not light candles, as it was wasteful.
When she saw that everyone in the house had fallen asleep, Zhou Qingling slipped into her storage space and ate a few pastries to fill her stomach.
She began stewing braised pork—no vegetables at all, only meat. Wealthy and extravagant.
She cooked an entire pot so she could eat whenever she had time.
However, the storage space had a flaw: food kept inside remained warm. No matter how much she tried to cool it, it would not become cold.
No matter how she blew on the meat, it remained too hot to eat.
She had no choice but to come out, and after confirming again that the Zhou Family was asleep, she secretly took out the clay pot.
As soon as the braised pork was taken out, the small kitchen could not conceal the aroma, which spread through the air.
The Zhou Family and nearby households all smelled the meat fragrance, but they assumed it must be a dream. Who would be cooking meat in the middle of the night?
It was only because that pig had grown too well-fed, swaying its body in the pen every day, that many people muttered in their sleep about slaughtering it during the New Year.
Zhou Qingling stayed by the pot. The aroma was perfect—only lacking dark soy sauce, so the color was not ideal—but everything else was flawless.
After letting it cool a little, she brought it back into the storage space.
Three days later came the day of returning home to visit parents.
Because Mother Zhou was dissatisfied with the in-laws’ family, she did not want to prepare a return gift. Only after Zhou Guanghai pleaded for a long time did she reluctantly agree, not wanting to be labeled as a harsh mother-in-law.
She gave 18 wen and sent the eldest son to the butcher Zhao in the village to buy a jin of meat, along with 10 eggs. Nothing else was prepared.
Lin Guihua kept her head down and did not dare speak. Whatever her mother-in-law gave, she could only accept.
The sun hung high in the sky—Zhou Qingling estimated it was around nine in the morning—when Zhou Qingcha and her husband returned home carrying seven or eight bundles.
Because it was the day of a daughter’s return visit, both Father Zhou and Mother Zhou stayed at home to show importance.
When Mother Zhou saw what her daughter brought back, her stern face immediately broke into a smile.
Zhou Qingcha had her married woman’s hairstyle, wore a silver hairpin, and dressed in red clothes, looking energetic and well.
Zhang Youcai followed behind her, smiling broadly. The newlyweds were full of joy.
Mother Zhou quickly held her daughter’s hand, her eyes slightly red.
Before marriage, she had not paid much attention to her daughter. There were many children, much work, and a deeply rooted preference for sons over daughters. Daughters were always destined to leave the family, so affection had been limited.
Yet now that her daughter was married and doing well, a trace of maternal feeling surfaced.
However, this affection depended on comparison. Compared to sons, it remained insignificant.
The couple performed a formal bow, and Zhang Youcai greeted: “Father-in-law, Mother-in-law.”
Father Zhou responded cheerfully. “Good, good physique.”
In this era, being fat meant well-fed.
Zhou Qingcha quickly interrupted, fearing her father would say something inappropriate.
“We brought return gifts. Father, Mother, please take a look.”
The gifts included a box of pastries, a piece of meat, a bolt of cloth, and a jar of wine—quite generous for a rural household.
Mother Zhou said: “Why did the in-laws let you bring so much back? You shouldn’t. Take it back later.”
Zhang Youcai, who worked in his family’s cloth shop and was eloquent, replied politely: “Mother-in-law, how can gifts given be taken back? My parents said I am now a son of this family. If anything happens, just send someone to tell me, and I will take care of it properly.”
Both Father Zhou and Mother Zhou felt deeply pleased upon hearing this. Whether or not it was fully sincere did not matter—the words sounded good.
Zhou Qingling poured them sugar water as instructed by Mother Zhou, then sat under the eaves, listening to the conversation in the main hall while trimming bamboo strips.
Since she was unmarried, it was not appropriate for her to sit in the same room as her brother-in-law, and she had nothing to contribute anyway.
Later, Mother Zhou took her two daughters to the kitchen to cook, while Father Zhou chatted with Zhang Youcai in the main room.
Mother Zhou asked about Zhou Qingcha’s life at her in-laws over the past few days.
With a shy, glowing expression, Zhou Qingcha described her married life.
However, when she mentioned her younger sister-in-law, her expression darkened slightly.
“My younger sister-in-law… she’s not very honest with me. She speaks in a sarcastic, aggressive way.”
Mother Zhou listened carefully and asked: “Is she engaged?”
“Not yet. They’re still arranging it.”
Mother Zhou thought for a moment. “You don’t need to bother with her. She will marry out eventually. Be careful with your words. Do not interfere in her marriage. Whether she ends up well or badly, do not leave yourself any blame.”
“You just married in. The most important thing is to win your husband’s heart. Have a child as soon as possible so you can secure your position in the Zhang Family. At night, whisper in his ear about your future together, about your children, and make him follow your heart.”
Zhou Qingcha nodded obediently. “Alright.”
“And do not be too soft. You are the eldest daughter-in-law now, not a servant. Be firm when needed.” Mother Zhou added.
Zhou Qingcha was not foolish and understood how to act.
Not long after, the aroma of food drifted out from the kitchen.
……
By October, Zhou Qingling once again experienced the joy of harvest.
The last time had been in early July during the early rice harvest; this time it was late rice.
The sun burned fiercely, and beads of sweat rolled down her forehead and fell into the soil.
She did not know how much she had sweated and had long stopped bothering to wipe it away.
Harvesting crops was a major event in rural life. Except for infants who could not walk, almost every member of the family joined in. Even the village school closed for ten days to allow harvesting.
Only then did Zhou Qingling realize how exhausting farming truly was. After a morning of work, her waist felt like it no longer belonged to her. She even wished for a modern automated harvester—modern life truly was better. Technology really did change life.
While she was lost in thought, her eldest brother came over and bundled the cut rice with straw ropes before carrying it home.
Looking at the piles of rice behind her, she reluctantly picked them up and trudged home.
At lunch, she was too tired to speak, quickly drank two ladles of water, and finally felt less heat on her body. Her flushed cheeks cooled slightly as she pressed her face into a basin of water, feeling much better.
For several days, the entire family worked in the fields. At night, they collapsed into bed and fell asleep instantly upon touching the pillow.
Yet Zhou Qingling still forced herself to enter the storage space to eat small meals, otherwise her body could not endure it.
Because this year’s rainfall had been excessive, crop yields were reduced. Although harvest should have been a joyful time, everyone’s expressions were not good. This gave Zhou Qingling a sense of crisis. She suddenly realized that in this era dependent on weather, unlike her previous life of relative abundance, starvation was always possible.
Even in good years, she barely had enough to eat in the Zhou Family—what about during disasters?
A chill ran down her spine.
Previously, she had only used her storage space to improve her diet. Now it was no longer enough. She had to start stockpiling supplies in preparation for emergencies.
From then on, Zhou Qingling began purchasing and storing as much grain as she could find, putting anything edible into her storage space.
One autumn rain brought a drop in temperature. After several rains, the weather became colder.
Fortunately, Mother Zhou still had a bit of familial affection. She bought some paper in town and patched the broken kitchen window.
Father Zhou also added extra straw to the roof, making winter slightly more bearable.