At dinner time, the guards followed their usual routine and gave each prisoner two coarse black-flour buns. Some prisoners even paid the guards silver in exchange for white buns instead.
Ziling tucked away the black buns she had received into her bundle and prepared to cook instant noodles using the clay pot she had bought in town. She instructed Gong Hao to find two small stones to use as supports for the pot. Setting the pot between them, she gathered some dry branches nearby and started a fire.
The water in the pot was not the water they had fetched earlier—it had been replaced with spiritual spring water.
Ying’er had never seen food like this before. She crouched beside the clay pot, staring fixedly at the curly things called “instant noodles” inside it. They smelled delicious, and little Ying’er was practically drooling.
Although Gong Hao was not staring at the pot as openly as Ying’er, he still turned around every now and then to sneak a look at the food cooking inside.
Ziling even added an egg for each person. Ever since she had transmigrated into the marquis’ household, been forced into a substitute marriage, and then exiled on the very first day after the wedding, she had almost forgotten what a hot meal felt like. Today, she was determined to let her stomach finally enjoy itself.
Ziling had remembered to bring a pot for cooking, but she had completely forgotten about bowls and chopsticks. Only after the noodles were done did she realize the troublesome problem. They could hardly gather around the pot and eat with their bare hands. Her space contained everything she needed, but if she suddenly took those things out, how could she explain them?
Gong Mohan watched the conflicted expressions constantly changing on her face and pressed his lips together slightly. He knew she had finally realized they had no bowls or chopsticks.
He stretched out a hand toward her, holding a neat set of chopsticks carved from tree branches. Though the surface was rough with wood shavings, it was still impressive that he had managed to make them in such a short time.
“For now, we’ll have to make do with these.”
“Did you just make these?” Ziling looked at the evenly carved chopsticks and thought to herself that this cold-faced husband of hers was actually quite thoughtful.
“Mhm. After removing the snake gallbladder earlier, I made them while I was at it.”
“Not bad. Let’s eat.”
Ziling handed everyone a pair of chopsticks and placed the pot in the middle of the group.
“When we reach the next town, I’ll buy some bowls and chopsticks. For now, we’ll just have to get by like this.”
“You’ve worked hard,” her mother-in-law said as she accepted the chopsticks Ziling handed her.
Gong Hao and Ying’er could barely hold themselves back anymore, but because of the manners ingrained in them since childhood, they still restrained themselves and did not touch the food while their mother, older brother, and sister-in-law had yet to begin eating.
“Come on. I also added six eggs inside—one for each person. Gong Mohan is injured and needs extra nutrition, so he gets two. The journey ahead is still long, and we all need to keep up our strength,” Ziling said as she urged everyone to take an egg.
Everyone stared wide-eyed at the eggs in the pot. Ziling smiled awkwardly.
“I bought the eggs in town earlier too. I just never had the chance to take them out and eat them. Now that we have water, everyone can finally have one.”
Gong Mohan lifted his eyes and glanced at her. “You eat two.”
“Yes,” her mother-in-law added from the side. “You’re the one taking care of all of us now. You need to eat more too, or your body won’t be able to handle it.”
“My appetite is small. One is enough for me. Mohan’s injuries need to heal quickly. Next time we stop in town, I’ll buy more.”
Everyone in the family except Ziling ate to their hearts’ content. These noodles called instant noodles tasted better than anything they had ever eaten back at the marquis’ residence. They even drank every last drop of the soup.
After dinner, Ziling took out the cotton quilts she had bought and let her mother-in-law and the children rest first. Then she came over to Gong Mohan to examine his injuries.
“Stretch out your arm and let me take a look.”
Like an obedient child, Gong Mohan obediently extended his arm. At that moment, Ziling was completely focused as a healer, carefully examining the wound with lowered eyes. The injury on his arm had already begun scabbing over after she had cleaned it with spiritual spring water. A few more cleanings with the spring water and it would recover completely.
Her gaze then shifted to Gong Mohan’s leg. Secretly, she thought that if this were modern times, a surgery performed by someone with her doctorate-level medical skills would solve the problem easily. But here in the ancient world, there were no conditions for surgery. Although her space contained surgical tools and medicine, given her current relationship with Gong Mohan, she dared not casually expose her secret. Besides, she still had not tested whether it was even possible to bring another person into that mysterious space.
Ziling cleaned his arm once more with spiritual spring water and applied ointment. Then she pressed lightly on his leg several times and asked, “Do you feel anything?”
Gong Mohan replied numbly, “No feeling.”
Ziling took out several silver needles. Skillfully sterilizing them, she located the acupuncture points and gently inserted the needles.
Although Gong Mohan’s leg had long since lost all sensation, each needle she inserted now sent waves of numb pain through it. Yet he clenched his teeth tightly and made no sound at all. Even so, the sensation shocked him.
For all these days, no matter what he had done, his leg had felt nothing. Yet after only a few needles from her, it had actually reacted.
Did this mean there was still hope for recovery?
He raised his eyes to look at her as she focused intently on inserting the needles, searching her expression for an answer.