The sun slowly rose, and the golden light shone warmly on their bodies.
After staying there for about half an hour, Lu Qingran walked over to Yan Zihao and asked, “Who usually makes breakfast at home?”
“My third sister does. Are you hungry?” Yan Zihao stopped what he was doing and asked gently.
Hearing that it was Yan Ziyue, Lu Qingran paused for a moment before quickly understanding. In ancient times, children as young as four or five already helped with chores like gathering firewood or cutting pig grass.
At twelve, Yan Ziyue was already considered a full laborer.
“I’m fine. I’ll head back first and see if Third Sister needs help,” Lu Qingran said.
“Alright. Be careful.”
Hearing that, Lu Qingran felt a bit speechless. It was only a few steps away—he could literally watch her walk back home. What was there to be careful about?
After greeting Yan’s parents, she returned to the house.
The Yan family home was truly shabby. Half of the courtyard wall had collapsed, and there were only four livable rooms: one for the parents, one for the couple, one for Erlang and Silang, and one for the two younger sisters. The kitchen was even simpler, clearly a temporary structure.
As Lu Qingran was looking around, Yan Ziyue came out of the kitchen.
“Big Sister-in-law,” she called.
Yan Ziyue had a straightforward personality, much like their mother. She had delicate features and wore a faded pink dress.
Lu Qingran was just as direct. “Third Sister, Mother and the others have gone to the fields. Go wake Xiao Wu and the others—I’ll make breakfast.”
“Okay!”
Breakfast in a farming household was simple: usually a pot of coarse rice porridge or wild vegetable paste, paired with coarse grain cakes or steamed buns, plus a stir-fried vegetable dish. It wasn’t difficult for Lu Qingran.
She went into the kitchen, found the grain container, washed the rice, put it into the pot, and added water in one smooth motion. But when she looked at the clay stove and the firewood beside it, she froze.
Just as she was at a loss, Yan Ziyue walked in like a savior. “Big Sister-in-law, I’ll help you light the fire!”
“Great, thank you, Third Sister,” Lu Qingran replied readily, inwardly sighing with relief.
After another quarter of an hour, Yan Silang and Yan Zimeng got up.
“Hello, Big Sister-in-law!” With Yan Ziyue’s introduction, Yan Silang greeted sweetly.
Lu Qingran patted the little boy’s head. “Breakfast is ready. Go call your parents back to eat.”
“Okay!”
“Fourth Brother, I’ll go with you!” Yan Zimeng hurried after him.
Living close by had its advantages. Just as Lu Qingran and Xiao Wu set the wild vegetable paste and corn buns onto the table, Yan Zihao and the others returned, sweating from work. Xiao Wu thoughtfully brought water for them to wash their hands.
“Qingran, you’ve worked hard. I was just thinking of coming back to cook, but you’ve already done it,” Mother Yan said.
“It’s just cooking, not hard at all. Besides, Third Sister helped me,” Lu Qingran replied.
After breakfast, when Yan Zihao returned to their room, Lu Qingran followed him inside.
“Can I go to the town later?” she asked.
Yan Zihao looked at her in confusion. “Do you need to buy something?”
“Yes. I only have this wedding outfit from the Lu family. I want to buy some fabric,” she said.
She had clothes in her space, but none suitable for this era.
Yan Zihao glanced at her clothes. “Alright. Wait for me—I’ll tell Mother and go with you.”
Lu Qingran nodded.
Lu Family Village belonged to Zhushan Town. It took about half an hour to walk there, or a bit over fifteen minutes by ox cart. But with the Yan family’s current situation, an ox cart ride was clearly a luxury.
In the middle of the village stood a large tree where elderly villagers gathered daily to chat and gossip. As Yan Zihao and Lu Qingran passed by, they inevitably became the subject of discussion. Both frowned slightly.
At the village entrance, an ox cart was waiting.
When they arrived, three people were already seated. Lu Qingran glanced at it and was about to walk past, but Yan Zihao stopped her.
“You take the cart. I’ll walk.”
“No need—I can walk,” she refused.
The fare was one wen per trip. Without another word, Yan Zihao paid the driver and found her a seat, while he walked beside the cart in silence.
It was the busy farming season, so not many people were heading to town. After waiting another quarter hour, the cart set off. Along the way, Lu Qingran offered to switch with him, but he refused.
Zhushan Town was fairly lively. At the entrance stood two large pillars with a beam across them, inscribed with the bold characters “Zhushan Town.”
Soldiers stood guard at the entrance, but only to maintain order—commoners passed freely.
The cart stopped at a designated area outside the town. As everyone got off, the driver reminded them, “Return at noon sharp! If you miss it, you’ll have to walk back!”
It was still early—around mid-morning. After calculating the time, Lu Qingran and Yan Zihao headed straight for a fabric shop.
The shopkeeper, a round-faced middle-aged man with a kind demeanor, greeted them warmly. “Feel free to look around. We have a full range of colors at affordable prices.”
“How much is cotton cloth?” Lu Qingran asked.
“Coarse cotton is 20 wen per chi, 195 wen per bolt. Fine cotton is 30 wen per chi, 290 per bolt,” the shopkeeper explained.
Not knowing how much fabric she needed, Lu Qingran asked, “For someone my size, how much is needed for one outfit?”
“Two chi is enough,” he replied after a glance.
Lu Qingran picked out a blue coarse cotton. “I’ll take two chi of this.”
As the shopkeeper went to cut the fabric, Yan Zihao added, “Two chi of that pink one as well.”
“Isn’t that a lot? Do we have enough money?” Lu Qingran asked.
“It’s fine—we have enough,” he said.
They bought four chi in total, paying 80 wen, and left the shop.
Looking at the sun, there was still time. “Do we need anything else?” Lu Qingran asked.
Yan Zihao shook his head. “No. See if there’s anything else you want.”
“I don’t need anything,” she replied.
“Then let’s head back. We can come again if needed.”
On the way back, they passed a candied hawthorn stall.
“Do you want some?” Yan Zihao asked.
Lu Qingran felt amused—was he treating her like a child? She shook her head. “I’ll pass. Let’s get some for Third Sister, Silang, and Xiao Wu.”
Candied hawthorn cost five wen for two skewers. Yan Zihao bought four, packing three away and handing one to her.
She wasn’t fond of it—sweet outside, painfully sour inside—but since it was his gesture, she accepted it. After one bite, she frowned.
“Don’t like it?” he asked.
“It’s too sour. Want to try?” she said, holding it out.
Though he didn’t like it either, seeing the bite marks on it, he leaned in and ate the rest.
“Very sour, right?” she asked.
“Mm. Let’s save the rest for Silang and Xiao Wu—they like it.”
When they returned to the ox cart, only the driver and one man remained. There was still some time before departure.
“Let’s walk back,” Lu Qingran suggested.
“It’s half an hour—can you manage?” he asked.
She nodded. Back in her previous life, she had walked countless steps daily at the department store. This distance was nothing.
They reached the village just after noon. The big tree was now empty.
“Big Brother! Big Sister-in-law! You’re back!” Yan Silang stood at the entrance, calling out excitedly.
“Why are you standing here? Isn’t it hot?” Yan Zihao asked.
Yan Silang grinned, his eyes fixed on the basket Yan Zihao was carrying.