Only then did Liu Shi finally relax completely. She wiped her hands on her apron and took the money pouch, weighing it in her hand.
“You sold that much? Hurry inside and have a rest. I’ll go boil some water.”
After they entered the house, Shen Weiwan carefully recounted everything that had happened in the alley. When she mentioned the aunties ordering eggs, her eyes lit up.
“Mother, I was thinking… why don’t we raise chickens ourselves? We can build a couple of coops and start with ten or so chickens. The eggs they lay can be delivered to the aunties, and we can eat some ourselves to improve our health.”
The needlework in Liu Shi’s hands paused, and her brows furrowed slightly.
“Raise chickens? We’d have to find a place to build a coop and get grain to feed them… and what if the chickens catch a disease?” She had never made decisions in her life and always thought of the difficulties first whenever something came up.
“Mother, let’s just try it on a small scale.”
Shen Weiwan took Liu Shi’s hand and gently patted the rough back of it with her fingertips.
“Isn’t there an empty patch in the corner of the yard? We can simply fence it off. As for feed, the chaff we sift out and vegetable leaves can all be used, so it won’t cost much.
Besides, even if we don’t make money at first, it’s still worthwhile if we eat the eggs ourselves. Brother and I are still growing, and I’d also like Father to have an egg now and then to nourish his body.”
At the mention of her children and husband, Liu Shi’s expression softened, though she still hesitated.
“Well… perhaps we should wait until your father comes home. I… I can’t make up my mind.”
“Alright, we’ll listen to you, Mother.”
Knowing her mother’s temperament, Shen Weiwan did not press the matter.
“I left some wild vegetable porridge for you. I’ll go heat it up.”
Liu Shi carefully tucked the money pouch into the cloth pocket close to her body and headed toward the kitchen, her steps seeming lighter than usual.
When Shen Jingzhi returned that evening, the table was already set with wild vegetable porridge and pickled dried radish.
After Shen Weiwan explained her idea of raising chickens, Shen Jingzhi put down his chopsticks and pondered for a moment.
“It’s not a bad idea. The soil in Hanzhuang is poor, and chicken manure would make good fertilizer for the fields. It’s killing two birds with one stone.”
Shen Mingxuan immediately chimed in.
“Father, I’ll go cut bamboo tomorrow and build the chicken coop!”
“Building the coop is easy,” Shen Jingzhi said, looking at Shen Weiwan. “Finding chicks is the hard part. The chicks at the market are expensive and not necessarily easy to raise. We’ll have to buy from farmers we know if we want peace of mind.”
Seeing that her husband also agreed, the weight in Liu Shi’s heart was finally lifted. Smiling, she added another spoonful of porridge to Shen Jingzhi’s bowl.
“Then tomorrow I’ll tidy up the corner of the yard and clean it up so we can build the coop.”
The oil lamp cast a warm yellow glow over the table.
Shen Weiwan lay over the tabletop, drawing something on rough paper with a charcoal pencil.
Curious, Shen Mingxuan leaned over to look. On the paper was a square frame with a pull-out wooden tray beneath it, along with measurements written beside it.
“This is… a chicken coop?” he asked in surprise.
“Mm.”
Shen Weiwan put down the charcoal pencil and rubbed her sore wrist.
“With this design, the tray underneath can be pulled out, so we won’t have to catch all the chickens just to clean the manure. It saves effort. And I’ve left ventilation openings on all four sides, so the chickens are less likely to get sick.”
The more Shen Mingxuan looked at the drawing, the more ingenious it seemed.
“Weiwan, how does your brain work? You can even come up with a fancy design for a chicken coop.”
Shen Weiwan merely smiled and said nothing.
It was nothing more than a simple chicken coop design she had seen in rural areas in her previous life. She had never imagined it would seem so novel here.
Over the next few days, besides delivering vegetables to the alley, the siblings spent all their spare time going around the village.
Whose chickens laid the most eggs and whose chicks had the highest survival rate—they found out everything.
Finally, Shen Jingzhi brought back good news. A relative of Butcher Wang from the neighboring village had hatched a batch of chicks. They were the famous “Laiheng chickens,” known for laying many eggs and rarely getting sick. He had already reserved twelve chicks for them.
On Shen Jingzhi’s day off, the courtyard was unusually lively.
He and Shen Mingxuan brought over several sturdy bamboo poles and followed Shen Weiwan’s drawings, sawing and trimming them.
Shen Weiwan stood nearby as the “supervisor,” occasionally reminding them,
“Father, lower that crossbar by another three inches, or the chickens will jump out easily.”
“Brother, don’t make the ventilation gaps too wide, or weasels might squeeze through.”
Meanwhile, Liu Shi sifted chaff nearby to prepare chicken feed, occasionally looking up at the father and son’s progress with a smile on her lips.
By the time the sun was setting, the two brand-new chicken coops were finally finished.
The bamboo frames were neat and sturdy, the pull-out trays slid smoothly, and the spacing between the bamboo slats was even, making the coops both strong and well-ventilated.
“Not bad at all!”
Shen Mingxuan patted one of the coops, causing the bamboo strips to make a crisp sound.
“It looks even better than the ones made by the village carpenter.”
Wiping the sweat from his brow, Shen Jingzhi looked at the coops with satisfaction in his eyes.
“When the chicks arrive, they’ll have a comfortable place to live.”
Life became as regular and busy as a wound-up clock.
Before dawn every day, Shen Weiwan and Shen Mingxuan carried their vegetable baskets to the alley. After delivering the vegetables, they would return and then head to the market to buy things for the aunties.
As time went by, they became familiar with all the vendors in the market.
Whenever they came by, Aunt Li, who sold sewing supplies, would smile and ask,
“Girl Weiwan, how many needles do you need today? The fine cotton thread Old Madam Wang wanted last time has arrived.”
Shopkeeper Zhang from the general store would save scraps of cloth for them. Whenever he saw Shen Mingxuan, he would call out,
“Boy Xuan, I saved the coarse hemp rope you wanted. It’s even sturdier than the last batch.”
Sometimes, when they had too many things to carry, the vendors would even help watch over their purchases.
“You two go deliver the vegetables first. Leave your things with me and pick them up later.”
At first, Shen Mingxuan had been embarrassed by their kindness, but he gradually became accustomed to it. He would help Aunt Li watch her stall or lend Shopkeeper Zhang a hand moving goods.
As for Shen Weiwan, she carefully recorded everyone’s needs in a small notebook—whose embroidery needles had to be extra fine, whose cloth scraps needed to be durable and resistant to dirt. She remembered everything clearly.
One day after delivering vegetables, Shen Mingxuan looked at the things in his basket and said,
“Weiwan, we get along with the people at the market like neighbors now. It’s much more comfortable than when we lived at the Marquis’ residence.”
Shen Weiwan gazed at the cooking smoke rising from the distant fields and softly replied,
“Mm.”
An autumn breeze swept across the fields of Hanzhuang.
The millet heads bent heavily under their weight, and the golden grains sparkled in the sunlight.
Standing on the ridge between the fields, Shen Weiwan looked at the harvest from their few acres of land, unable to stop the smile from spreading across her face.
“Father, look at this millet. The grains are so plump.”
She picked a stalk and rubbed it between her hands. Golden millet grains fell into her palm, round and full.
“Although the yield can’t compare to fertile farmland, it’s enough to feed our family for a whole year.”
Shen Jingzhi crouched down and carefully examined the roots of the millet, his eyes filled with satisfaction.
“It’s all thanks to the seeds you chose in the beginning. They’re drought-resistant and don’t lodge easily. For land like ours in Hanzhuang to produce crops like this—it’s not easy.”
Shen Mingxuan also came over, still holding a book in his hand.
“Once we harvest the millet, I’ll go to town and exchange some for coarse rice so we can cook porridge for Father and Mother.”
Liu Shi walked over carrying a basket filled with freshly boiled eggs.
“Take a break first and eat an egg. These chickens are doing well—they lay two or three eggs every day now. There’s enough for us to eat, and we can still deliver some to the aunties in the alley.”