Chapter 15 Yang Chunman

Chapter 15: Yang Chunman

"I saved you, so you and your man conspired to set me up..." Meng Wan was furious, a real case of returning kindness with enmity.

Zhu Ge'er begged, "Wan Ge'er, I heard Aunt Song say you have no parents left in your hometown. Since that's the case, wouldn't it be good to come to my place and be my companion? We're both miserable wretches, living together as a family—if you ever have a kid, I'll treat them as my own flesh and blood."

Meng Wan cut straight to the chase, "Be my companion? You're used to getting beaten, too scared to fight back, so you teamed up with Tian Xing to trick me into going up the mountain, didn't you?"

A while back, Zhu Ge'er had already asked him to go up the mountain once. That time, Xiao Mei wasn't there, just the two of them. If he had agreed then, Tian Xing would've been waiting somewhere on Mount Zhao!

"You went and found yourself a wife-beater. Not only do you let him beat you, but you wanna drag me into it too? Don't you see what kinda trash the Tian family is? And you still dream of making me your side piece? Pfft!"

He wouldn't even give a second look to a guy like Song Tingzhou, a good-lookin', educated scholar—why would he go after some ugly, abusive brute?

"I ain't scared of him hittin' me!" Zhu Ge'er got riled up by Meng Wan's words and suddenly shot back.

Then his voice dropped again, all sad, "I just like talkin' to you. I wanna be with you every day."

Meng Wan stared at Zhu Ge'er in disbelief. Be with him for what, exactly? It's not like he could get him pregnant!

He barely had any dealings with Zhu Ge'er, so why was he so hung up on him?

Meng Wan felt that Zhu Ge'er, usually quiet and honest, seemed a bit unhinged, his mind unstable.

He'd learned his lesson and didn't dare mess with him anymore. After moving the radishes and cabbages, he took off, ignoring the frantic calls from the other side of the wall.

"What's the hurry? Got a dog chasin' you?"

It was gettin' cold. Every household had cabbage and radishes, with hardly any leafy greens left. Tofu wasn't expensive, old folks and kids could all eat it, and it sold faster after winter hit than in the two months before. Chang Jinhua had sold a batch today and packed up early to head inside, only to see Meng Wan runnin' like the wind.

"Auntie, I moved all the cabbages. Let's leave 'em in the backyard to air out and move 'em to the cellar tonight, okay?" Goin' back now would mean facin' that crazy Zhu Ge'er again.

"Sure. The tofu sold fast today. I'll go visit your Sixth Aunt this afternoon. Wanna come?"

After what happened next door, Meng Wan didn't dare stay home alone. He said quickly, "Sure."

Chang Jinhua grabbed her embroidery basket and made one for Meng Wan too.

Meng Wan picked up the dainty little basket, amused, "Auntie, I don't know how to do this."

The clothes he wore and the shoes on his feet were all made by Chang Jinhua. She had long noticed Meng Wan couldn't do needlework, realizing the slave trader had been talking nonsense, but she wasn't angry.

"Not knowing is why you need to learn. Otherwise, when you get married, you'll still expect me to make your clothes?"

Meng Wan thought to himself: I'll probably marry into your family anyway, so you'll still be making my clothes.

Since that big loss at the market, Sixth Uncle Song's wife had only remembered one thing: the strong fishy smell in her house.

Before the wedding, fearing her son's husband would dislike it, she had built a separate small yard next door, with a half-wall in between and no door, so it still looked like one house from the outside. When entertaining guests, they used the small yard—clean and odor-free. On the wedding day, the feast was set up across both sides.

When Chang Jinhua and Meng Wan entered, the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law were doing needlework. This was Meng Wan's first time seeing the new husband's face: not tall, a bit plump, fair-skinned, with a round face, big eyes, a slightly flat nose, and small lips. A rice-grain-sized pregnancy mole sat by his lips, bright red. He had the kind of looks elders liked.

Chang Jinhua, also seeing him for the first time, praised his good looks and fair skin.

Sixth Uncle Song's wife was pleased and said cheerfully, "Man Geer just married in. I was worried he'd get bored at home. Let Wan Ge'er come play with him often."

Chang Jinhua nudged Meng Wan, "Go inside with Man Geer and do some work. Let him teach you."

Man Geer's full name was Yang Chunman. Newly married into a different village and knowing no one, he was delighted to meet a fellow boy of the same age. He pulled Meng Wan into the room, leaving the two elders outside to work and chat.

Sixth Uncle Song's wife was also stitching soles. In the village, everyone did manual labor, which wore these out the most.

"Sister-in-law, don't you usually go up the mountain to gather firewood this time of year? Why haven't you started yet?"

After the slack season, there wasn't much urgent work. The men went up the mountain to chop firewood, stockpiling for winter and the next year—the more, the better. Every household had two piles of firewood stacked outside their gates. Northern winters were harsh; people stayed home all day, and cotton clothes couldn't stop the cold. Without modern heating appliances, dry firewood was crucial, second only to food.

Sixth Uncle Song and Song Dali had stopped fishing and were up the mountain every day chopping wood.

Chang Jinhua pulled out thread and a sole from her small basket, "In past years, I'd gather firewood before winter, just enough for myself. Now that Wan Ge'er's here, and Da Lang said yesterday he'd come home daily, plus I sell tofu during the day, no matter how much I pick, it won't be enough for the three of us."

Sixth Uncle Song's wife nodded, "That makes sense. So, are you planning to buy?"

Chang Jinhua was making shoes for Meng Wan. As it got colder, he had cotton clothes but still needed a pair of shoes.

She stitched tightly as she spoke, "I've saved some money from selling tofu in the second half of the year. I'll buy a pile of firewood for winter, and when I'm free, I'll go up the mountain to gather some easy-burning stuff for the yard. I came to ask you first: if Old Six and Dali have extra firewood to sell, give me first pick. I'll pay the market price, no shortchanging you, and it saves you hauling it all the way to town."

Old Six's family had two men chopping wood, so they had plenty for winter and would have surplus to sell in town. Why let that profit go to outsiders? If she was buying firewood, she might as well buy it from within the village.

Sixth Uncle Song's wife, busy with her work, agreed readily, "That's perfect. I'll tell them when they come down. They'll stack it right at your gate."

"That's great."

While the two settled the firewood deal outside, the two boys chatted inside.

Yang Chunman, being married, had his hair fully pinned up, revealing the nape of his neck, unlike Meng Wan who wore it half-down.

He was the same age as Meng Wan, with a youthful liveliness, but more restrained than Xiao Mei. He spoke and moved slowly, seeming very patient.

"Wan Ge'er, you don't know how to use a needle? Why does Auntie want me to teach you?"

Meng Wan said awkwardly, "I really don't. I can only thread a needle."

Yang Chunman chuckled softly, "Then should I teach you to stitch a sole? I see you have cut cloth in your basket. Can you cut it?"

That meant cutting out the sole shape. Meng Wan could do that, but he needed to measure the size.

"I didn't bring a pattern. How about I go home, cut one out, and come back to you?"

Yang Chunman reminded him, "Just cut it based on the soles of the shoes you're wearing now, right?"

Meng Wan knew Chang Jinhua was making him cotton shoes, so his first thought was to make a pair for Song Tingzhou, since he'd be walking to and from school and would wear them out fast.

But with Yang Chunman's suggestion, he felt too embarrassed to bring it up. Maybe he should first try making a pair in his own size, get the hang of it, then make a pair for Song Tingzhou?

"That works. Do you have scissors? Mine are in my auntie's basket."

Yang Chunman found him scissors and taught him how to cut the sole shapes from the cloth, then wrap the edges with longer fabric scraps, since mismatched edges wouldn't look good.

Then he glued seven or eight layers of wrapped soles together, used an awl to punch a ring of holes, threaded a hemp rope twice as thick as cotton thread through a large needle, and stitched back and forth.

Just these two steps exhausted Meng Wan. By the time Chang Jinhua called him home, he hadn't even finished one sole, and his hand was pricked several times from holding the needle wrong.

"Wan Ge'er, come play with me again tomorrow!"

Yang Chunman saw them off with his mother-in-law, still reminding Meng Wan to come back tomorrow.

Chang Jinhua envied the other family's obedient daughter-in-law, then turned to see her own still rubbing his hand.

She teased, "Aren't you supposed to be not just literate but also skilled in needlework and tailoring? How did a single sole stump you?"

Meng Wan tilted his head back to look at the sky. "Oh, it's getting late. Is my cousin almost home? I'll cook tonight."

Chang Jinhua smiled with her eyes, strolling behind him with her basket.

When they got home, Song Tingzhou naturally hadn't returned yet. The town wasn't far from Sanquan Village, but even walking fast, it took half an hour.

Although the Song family earned a bit more each month from selling tofu, they couldn't afford big meaty meals every day.

Today, the tofu sold out completely, and there were still some flatbreads left from the morning. Meng Wan took a few radishes, washed them, and cut them into chunks. Back then, crops didn't yield much, and they didn't grow very large, but everything had a rich flavor.

He sliced three pieces of "zouyou rou" (a kind of cured pork belly), a specialty of the northern region, kind of like southern cured meat. As the weather turned cold, you'd buy pork belly, cut it into big squares, clean the skin, boil it once, then scoop it out. You'd mix half a bowl of sugar water, evenly spread it on the meat to absorb, leave some oil in the pot, and pan-fry the meat. The longer it cooked, the more fat rendered out. The sugar water and hot oil made the outer layer of the meat redder. Then you take it out, let it cool, and store it in a basin, slicing it when needed. It wouldn't spoil all winter.

He put three large slices of meat into the pot, added some chopped green onions, then poured in the radishes and water to stew.

The small pot in the hut was shallow and tiny. Meng Wan used it to cook a pot of brown rice.

Most days, this one dish was enough for Meng Wan and Chang Jinhua, and they hardly ever added meat. Tonight, since Song Tingzhou was coming back, Meng Wan grabbed a head of cabbage and sat at the kitchen door, tearing leaves while watching the gate.

He'd stir-fry the cabbage when Song Tingzhou got back.

Meng Wan sighed inwardly. He was getting sick of tofu, and eating nothing but cabbage and radishes all winter was even worse. At the end of the day, they just didn't earn enough, but the village's spending power was limited—what was he supposed to do about it?

He actually wanted to make money in town, but the same concerns held him back: his slave status and being a "ge'er."

After what happened with Tian Xing, Meng Wan was too scared to take risks. He didn't dare hope Song Tingzhou would pass the exams and set him free. Even marrying him was better than ending up as some rich guy's toy.

The Song family treated him well, and Song Tingzhou wasn't a wicked person.

Meng Wan shut his eyes. To escape his slave status, he had to wait until Song Tingzhou passed the exams. Whether Song Tingzhou married him or let him go, he could shed that identity. It all came down to the fourth month after New Year's.

After a while, the radish in the pot was smelling good, but Song Tingzhou hadn't returned yet. The gate next door creaked open.

The Tian family swung the gate open and drove the oxcart right in. Tian Wang and Uncle Tian carried Tian Xing, wrapped up like a burrito, off the cart and into the eastern wing. You could hear him hissing and groaning the whole way.

Aunt Tian followed behind with a bundle of medicinal herbs into the house.

A moment later, Tian Wang came out of the eastern wing, said a few words to Xiao Mei, who was staying home, then led the oxcart to the village head's house to return it.

Meng Wan perked up his ears to listen to the racket next door. He didn't even notice Song Tingzhou until he was practically right there.

"Cousin, you're really back?"

As soon as Song Tingzhou entered the yard, he saw Meng Wan sitting sideways in a daze, tearing at cabbage leaves with his eyes slightly narrowed, as if listening to something.

Meng Wan's profile was perfect. From this angle, the bright red pregnancy mole between his cheek and eye really stood out, immediately catching one's attention.

Song Tingzhou set down his book box, his fingers twitching without him realizing it. He wanted to ruffle Meng Wan's hair but felt it would be improper, so he just carried his box inside.

"Tomorrow I'll be even later. Don't wait for me to eat."

Meng Wan scooped out the radishes and set them on the table, washed the cabbage, stir-fried it with lard, and added half a spoon of vinegar just before serving.

Chang Jinhua set out the rice, bowls, and chopsticks. The three sat down to eat. Song Tingzhou picked up a piece of cabbage and frowned slightly.

Meng Wan noticed and understood he didn't like the vinegar. He pushed the radishes toward him. "Eat the radishes. Next time, I won't add vinegar."

Song Tingzhou's lips curled into a faint smile. "I can eat anything."

The stewed radishes had three slices of meat. Chang Jinhua gave two to her son and one to Meng Wan, but Meng Wan calmly transferred his slice back to her.

Chang Jinhua shot a glare at this disobedient young man and asked her son, "Da Lang, you just said you'll be late tomorrow? Why is that?"

In these times, even the main roads were crawling with bandits. The country paths were safer from robbers, but near the mountains, hungry beasts sometimes came down at night to attack people. It was always risky.

Song Tingzhou watched their exchange and tightened his grip on his chopsticks. As the only man in the family, he couldn't even provide meat for his family. It was only thanks to his mother and fiancé rising early to make tofu that they could improve their meals a little and afford his books and pens.

If he couldn't even pass the county exam next year, how useless would he be?

"The bookshop got a new batch of books. After school, I'll go copy them. Three hundred coins each."

Three hundred coins was no small amount. Chang Jinhua opened her mouth but finally said, "Still, don't be later than the hour of the monkey. Come home before sunset, or you won't see the road clearly."

Song Tingzhou nodded in agreement, then gave one of his meat slices to Meng Wan. "One slice each. Don't keep passing them around. You too, Mother."

With that, the three ate in silence.

Meng Wan thought to himself that next time he went to the market, he should buy a few pounds of large bones to make broth. They were cheap, though they required a lot of firewood. When it snowed and the room was cold, he could set up a brazier and let it simmer slowly during the day—saving firewood while nourishing all three of them.