Chapter 16 Engagement

Chapter 16: The Betrothal

After dinner, Meng Wan secretly made a rubbing of Song Tingzhou's shoe sole, since going up and asking him directly would've been pretty embarrassing.

That night, he slept soundly, without the usual racket from next door, and woke up the next morning to Song Tingzhou's clear reading voice.

Meng Wan was itching to borrow a book from Song Tingzhou—not that he was some bookworm, but because he wanted to learn more characters to study the laws of the Yu Kingdom. Though he was a mediocre graduate from a third-rate university, anyone with half a brain knew how important the law was. Even if he never got to use it, knowing more characters was still beneficial.

With that weighing on his mind, he got up to find Chang Jinhua already lighting the fire. Meng Wan looked at the gloomy sky outside and crouched beside her. "Auntie, let me tend the fire."

Chang Jinhua shooed him away. "You're such a careless little guy, not even washing up before running into the kitchen. Go on, get out of here."

Meng Wan had no choice but to go wash up. By the time he was done and had tied his hair, Chang Jinhua had already set out two bowls of soy milk and two leftover flatbreads from yesterday on the table. She stayed by the stove, keeping an eye on the tofu in the pot, a bowl of soy milk in one hand.

"Cousin, breakfast is ready," Meng Wan called softly to Song Tingzhou.

The reading in the small room stopped, and Song Tingzhou opened the door and came out. He had gotten up before dawn to grind the soybeans, then returned to read by lamplight—no small effort, really.

They ate the flatbreads, washing them down with hot soy milk, the warmth driving the chill out of their bones, leaving them feeling cozy all over.

Song Tingzhou slung his book box over his shoulder to leave, and Meng Wan walked him to the courtyard gate. Right as he was about to leave, Meng Wan asked softly, "Cousin, can I read the books in your room?"

Song Tingzhou paused in surprise. "Of course. Read whichever you like. Just be careful not to lose any of the annotations in some of them."

Meng Wan's voice perked up. "I'll be very careful!"

In the morning, Chang Jinhua sold tofu at the front door. Meng Wan cleaned up the kitchen, then let the chickens out of the coop to scratch for food, then went to the small room to find a book.

He'd noticed before that there were books in the cabinet in the small room, but hadn't dared to look without Song Tingzhou's permission.

Now, when he opened the cabinet, a strange smell of paper and ink hit his nose.

Meng Wan wrinkled his nose—it was musty and not exactly pleasant.

He flipped through a few things and saw the cabinet was stuffed full—mostly papers Song Tingzhou had used, with handwriting that went from childish to skilled, his brushstrokes slowly finding their form.

At the bottom of the cabinet were a few worn-out brushes, the cheapest kind, made from pig bristles, completely useless by now.

Meng Wan couldn't tell different brush types apart yet, but he could tell these brushes were soft, split at the tips, and misshapen. In college, he had seen a classmate's purple rabbit-hair brush—thin, stiff, and looked really fancy.

Reading classical Chinese was a real pain—obscure and hard to follow. Meng Wan guessed his way through, jotting down notes here and there, and almost dozed off in the small room.

Just after noon, Chang Jinhua brought the wooden tray inside. "Didn't you say yesterday you were going to find Man Geer to work on the shoe soles? Why haven't you gone?"

Meng Wan came out of the small room. "I was worried about you selling tofu by yourself at home. I'll go now."

Chang Jinhua almost laughed at this little guy. "I'm old enough to take care of myself. Do I need you watching over me? Go on, get going."

Meng Wan grabbed his little basket and headed out, but unfortunately, he ran into Zhu Geer and Xiao Mei coming back from outside.

Xiao Mei was the first to speak. "Wan Geer, where are you going?"

Meng Wan gave an awkward laugh. "I'm going to find Man Geer to do some work."

"Who's Man Geer? I'll come with you to play with him." Xiao Mei was a new bride this year and didn't know everyone in the village yet, thinking Xiao Man was a local geer.

"He's Brother Dali's new husband. He's a bit shy, so it might not be a good time," Meng Wan made an excuse to refuse.

Xiao Mei looked let down. "Oh, alright." With so much going on at home these days, she hadn't had a chance to visit Meng Wan in a while.

Zhu Geer stood behind Xiao Mei, seeming to have pulled himself together a bit, still as quiet and withdrawn as ever.

Meng Wan didn't stick around long and quickly slipped away. It wasn't that he was afraid of Zhu Geer and Tian Xing, but he felt they were like a mix of a venomous snake and a slug—one might bite you when you least expect it, and the other looked harmless but was actually the most disgusting.

In the afternoon, he worked on the shoe soles with Man Ge again. Today, he was way more skilled than yesterday, and had almost finished one sole. He decided to skip making the other one, instead cutting out a pair of soles to fit Song Tingzhou's size, planning to start on those tomorrow. As it got late, Meng Wan got up to head home.

Man Geer saw him out and asked, "Are you going to the big market at Red Temple Village tomorrow?"

Time really flies. Meng Wan was startled by the mention of the market. "Already market day again? I'll definitely have to go—we need to sell tofu."

"Right, I forgot about that. I was hoping to go with you." Man Geer had heard from his mother-in-law that Meng Wan knew how to make tofu, and after coming to the Song family, he had taught the skill to his eldest aunt. He secretly envied Meng Wan—a xiaoge not yet married, already capable of earning money.

Meng Wan replied, "My aunt and I go early. After we finish selling the tofu, we can come back together."

He reached his doorstep and saw Sixth Uncle Song and his son Dali stacking firewood by the gate. The two men, used to hard labor, had already gathered over ten bundles of firewood in just two days.

"Sixth Uncle, Brother Dali," Meng Wan greeted them.

"Ah, Wan Geer's back," Sixth Uncle Song said cheerfully.

Ever since Meng Wan and Chang Jinhua started selling tofu, the villagers had looked up to him more. There were still those who disapproved, like Zhang Xiaoyu and Fourth Aunt, who had caused trouble at Song Dali and Man Geer's wedding feast.

But as soon as Meng Wan entered the house, there was Fourth Aunt, sitting on the heated kang, chattering away at Chang Jinhua.

Meng Wan stopped in his tracks and quickly slipped into the small room, closing the door.

"My nephew has fifteen mu of good land, he's honest and steady, and his parents live with the eldest son. Wan Geer would be in charge as soon as he marries in..."

Blah blah blah, Fourth Aunt's big mouth never stopped. Chang Jinhua couldn't find a gap to interrupt. Her face showed undisguised impatience. Everyone in the village knew that her Wan Geer was meant for Da Lang, but Fourth Aunt Song was so clueless, running over to propose a match for Meng Wan.

Many people coveted Meng Wan's tofu-making skills. Even outsiders asked Chang Jinhua about it when she sold tofu. She was already tired of making excuses every day, and now a sister-in-law from the same clan had to meddle.

"Wan Geer has only been with us for less than half a year. I want to keep him a while longer. Thank you for the offer, Fourth Sister-in-law, but I won't hold up your nephew's matchmaking."

They were all from nearby villages—did she really not know about the mess in her own family? Fifteen mu of land, but only five mu of paddy fields. The eldest son had taken five mu of paddy and five mu of dry land, leaving the second son with just a thatched hut and five mu of dry land. Even if Wan Geer were willing to marry into that family, with five mu of dry land and taxes, they'd starve to death!

The more Chang Jinhua thought about it, the angrier she got. She hadn't even let Meng Wan do farm work since he came—at most, he tended the vegetable garden and lit the fire. She treated him half like her own child, half like a future daughter-in-law. To match him with Fourth Song's family? That lazy, dishonest bunch—how dare she even suggest it!

Whether Fourth Aunt Song genuinely didn't understand or pretended not to, she just sat there, refusing to leave, going on and on about her nephew.

Chang Jinhua hinted several times for her to leave, but she wouldn't budge. Helpless, Meng Wan went to the kitchen to cook, or else what would Song Tingzhou eat when he got back?

"Wan Geer is home after all! Sister-in-law, you were lying to me."

Fourth Aunt Song got off the kang and entered the kitchen. "Wan Geer, cooking? Look at how capable you are."

Meng Wan was making flatbreads. Last time, Song Tingzhou loved them and ate three in one sitting. Seeing Fourth Aunt Song watching him like a monkey in a zoo, he gave a stiff smile. "I just cook, that's all. Not like you, Fourth Aunt, who's so skilled at organizing banquets everywhere."

The news that Fourth Aunt Song had ruined a pot of food at her sister-in-law's banquet had spread through the village. Her face darkened. "Your Wan Geer really has a sharp tongue."

Chang Jinhua lightly scolded Meng Wan. "How are you talking to your Fourth Aunt? Hurry up and cook. I'll see your Fourth Aunt out."

Fourth Aunt Song's mouth stiffened. "Your Fourth Uncle is coming home late today. I'm in no hurry to leave."

Meng Wan rolled his eyes behind her back. "Since you're not in a hurry, Fourth Aunt, sit in the room for a while. We'll eat in the kitchen—no need to trouble you."

Fourth Aunt Song silently cursed Meng Wan as an orphan without manners, not even inviting an elder to stay for a meal. She tilted her head to look at Chang Jinhua, but Chang Jinhua was as silent as a mute, not offering a single polite word.

Was she really supposed to stay and just smell the food?

Fourth Aunt Song pulled a long face as she walked out, and Chang Jinhua saw her off.

"Fourth Aunt."

Meng Wan poured oil into the pot to fry pancakes, hearing Song Tingzhou's voice at the door.

Chang Jinhua finished seeing off the guest and came in with her son. "Your Sixth Uncle is a solid man. He was halfway through stacking his own firewood when he heard we wanted to buy some, so he prioritized ours and stacked it all neatly. Each bundle is tightly tied—much better than what's sold at the market."

Song Tingzhou said, "Since we're buying, let's get more. It'll snow soon, so we should stock up in advance."

Chang Jinhua thought it over. Not only did they need to heat the heated brick bed in winter, but they also had to make tofu every morning. Over time, one pile might not be enough.

"Your Sixth Uncle's family also needs to gather their own firewood. How about buying another pile from Old Man Tian's family? They've sold it in previous years too."

Meng Wan chimed in, "Xiaomei is pregnant this year. Their family might not sell. Why not ask another household?"

Chang Jinhua said, "There are plenty of families selling firewood. The Liu family, who rents our land, also sells. I'll ask around tomorrow after the market trip."

Meng Wan had heard of the Liu family. In Sanquan Village, the surnames Song and Tian were most common, along with a few outsider families who had moved in. The Liu family had come years ago when a flood destroyed their village north of the prefectural city, forcing them to seek refuge with relatives, eventually settling in Sanquan Village.

Without land and unable to afford any, they rented from others in the village to farm. Chang Jinhua was fair—under the current dynasty's tax system, the land tax was one-thirtieth, meaning one pound was paid for every thirty pounds harvested.

After setting aside the tax grain, the remaining harvest was split equally between the two families.

The Liu family always dried, hulled, and cleaned the rice before delivering it to Chang Jinhua, while she ground the wheat herself.

The Lius were honest and reliable, never defaulting. The two families had gotten along well over the years, and just recently, the Lius had delivered grain to Chang Jinhua.

Song Tingzhou's family had six mu of paddy fields and eight mu of dry fields. Each mu of paddy yielded about 140 pounds of rice, while dry fields yielded around 100 pounds of wheat. After paying the land tax, each family was left with six to seven hundred pounds—this was their food supply from now until next autumn's harvest. Most villagers kept half and sold half, relying on this income for labor taxes or house repairs.

Unlike others with large families to feed, Chang Jinhua and her son were only two people, so their grain was more than sufficient. That was why she had been confident when buying Meng Wan—at the very least, they had enough to eat.

Tomorrow at the market, they needed to make two slabs of tofu. After dinner, Song Tingzhou first took a bucket to the drying yard to grind the soybeans, and Chang Jinhua followed.

"Fourth Aunt rarely comes to our house," Song Tingzhou asked, carrying two buckets of soaked soybeans.

Chang Jinhua said helplessly, "She came to arrange a match for Wan Geer."

Song Tingzhou paused mid-step. "What did he say?"

Chang Jinhua didn't catch on at first. "Who? Oh, you mean Wan Geer? He can't stand your Fourth Aunt either."

"We'll finalize the engagement before the New Year."

Chang Jinhua had been rambling about the incident at Song Dali's wedding feast, but his sudden words left her speechless for a long moment.

"What?"

At the Hongmiao Village market—

Meng Wan stood dazedly beside Chang Jinhua, collecting money. He was about to be engaged. Though he had vaguely anticipated this outcome, being told outright left him feeling lost and disheartened.

Chang Jinhua cheerfully sold tofu. She usually wore a stern, bitter expression, but today her smile made her look years younger.

The market was crowded, and their two slabs of tofu sold out quickly.

"Your Sixth Aunt asked me to get a few bolts of cloth. You and Man Geer can take a stroll," Chang Jinhua said, stuffing about twenty-something copper coins into Meng Wan's hand.

Meng Wan was pulled away by Man Geer. "It's already the Major Snow period. By this time in previous years, we'd have had two light snowfalls."

Meng Wan, distracted, replied, "Really?"

Man Geer noticed his absent-mindedness and asked, "What's wrong with you?"

Meng Wan gave a bitter smile. He couldn't exactly say he was unhappy about being betrothed to the Song family—that would make him seem ungrateful.

So he turned the question back on Man Geer. "Were you nervous before your wedding?"

Man Geer rubbed his hands, his face flushing red, and said in a very small voice, "I was nervous. But my dad and mom said Dali's family is good and they're decent people. My mother-in-law also visited our home. The two families discussed everything, and I even met Dali before the engagement. That's pretty good—my cousin didn't see her husband until the wedding night."

In ancient times, marriage involved the traditional six rites, including proposal, name inquiry, divination, betrothal gifts, date selection, and the wedding ceremony. But in the countryside, where mere survival was a struggle, everything was simplified. Only the divination (engagement) and the wedding ceremony were retained.

The matchmaker would be sent by the groom's family to propose. If the bride's family agreed, the two families would discuss the engagement and exchange tokens, often handmade items like embroidered handkerchiefs. Wealthier grooms might give jade or jewelry, while poorer ones at least offered some food as a gesture.

At the same time, the groom's betrothal gifts were delivered during the engagement. In the village, this usually meant bolts of cloth and betrothal silver. Wealthy families had more elaborate customs, but that's a story for another time.

After the engagement, the groom's parents would consult a reputable fortune-teller to pick an auspicious wedding date. The chosen date would be sent to the bride's family, and finally, the groom would personally fetch the bride from her home for the wedding ceremony.

As Man Geer said, meeting the groom before the wedding was already fortunate. More often, it was a blind marriage—whatever the parents decided was final, and the bride simply waited for the wedding day.