Zhou Jing returned earlier than Jicheng had expected, likely indicating another unsuccessful trip. Not knowing what to say, Jicheng sighed helplessly and waved him over. “Come help. The boss is bringing people to check the progress in a few days. We can’t afford to be too slow.”
Zhou Jing stripped off his outer shirt, bare-chested, and grinned. “Slow? With the way we’re pushing, we’ll probably finish by year-end.” He surveyed the vast construction site, imagining the future—rockeries, flowing streams, pavilions nestled among rare flowers and willows, all exuding grandeur. The thought stirred something in him. One day, he’d build a grand estate like this for himself, just to show those who’d looked down on him… He chuckled. His life might just be for show, but at least those people would know they’d been blind fools back then.
Lately, aside from the midday break when they could chat idly, the rest of the day was filled with the hammering and clattering of construction. The sun grew fiercer, and working bare-chested under its scorching rays left his skin burning. But for someone accustomed to such hardships, gritting his teeth was enough to endure.
Chunfu and Liansheng’s wife bustled about in the kitchen. Working together made things easier, especially since Liansheng’s wife was deft with her hands, able to replicate intricate patterns after just one glance. Occasionally, they’d share a laugh.
Wiping sweat from her brow, Liansheng’s wife frowned at the glaring sunlight outside. “Liansheng always suffers in the heat. I wanted to bring him some soup, but I’m afraid it’ll spoil. What a headache.”
Chunfu nodded in agreement. She hadn’t dared to pack food for Jicheng either these past few days. With the rising heat, spoiled food would be a waste. The pastries, preserved properly and sold early in the cool morning, sold out quickly in town since she didn’t make too many. But because they used fine flour, the price was higher, leaving many struggling families unable to afford even a taste. She’d anticipated this from the start, but with everything just beginning, some things couldn’t be helped. If she found time, she wanted to revisit town and discuss with Jin Liu’er—business shouldn’t cater only to the wealthy. Most townsfolk were poor, and she wanted to adjust the ingredients to make affordable yet tasty treats.
With the shop open, selling expensive chilled fruit porridge, even a bowl of mung bean soup for a couple of coins could offer some relief to laborers.
“I’ve seen where they work. It’s open and breezy, with plenty of shade. It should be bearable.”
Liansheng’s wife laughed. “I’m just rambling. Men working outside can’t afford to be picky. We’re not made of glass. But as his wife, I can’t help but worry. He’s the sole breadwinner—I just want him healthy. Ugh, listen to me, jinxing him like that.”
Chunfu smiled, using up the last of the jam in the jar before it spoiled.
Liansheng’s wife suddenly asked, “You’ve been married a while now. Any news yet?”
Blushing, Chunfu focused on shaping the dough into intricate patterns. “Not yet. I’d like to wait until life settles a bit more. Jicheng thinks I’m still young and is fine with waiting.”
Liansheng’s wife sighed. “Jicheng’s hard to read. Before, when we barely interacted, his expressionless face was downright scary. If not for Liansheng’s incident, we’d probably still be strangers. Feuds between families? It’s just people copying others, too afraid to break the ice. Villagers spend their free time gossiping. Your sister-in-law and brother haven’t visited lately—probably too ashamed after how they treated you. Afraid you’ll hold a grudge.”
Chunfu shook her head, her hands never pausing as she worked the dough with practiced ease. “Let bygones be bygones. All I care about now is building a good life with Jicheng. The only thing that still bothers me is Zhang Yan. That child… Sister, some things are just too complicated. No matter how much it pains me, Zhang Yan is still their son. It’s tough.”
“Zhang Yan’s lucky to have an aunt like you who cares. Time flies—he’ll grow up soon enough and make his own choices.”
Meanwhile, Zhang Yan, determined to earn his own money, sought out Old Jiang in Shui Jiang Village to inquire about opportunities. The old man collected venomous creatures like snakes and scorpions for the Pei family, paying well since few dared to take the risk.
But seeing how young Zhang Yan was, Old Jiang shook his head. “You’re too small. What if you get hurt? Don’t worry your family. Come back when you’re older.”
Zhang Yan’s voice was steady, unnaturally mature for his age, as if discussing someone else’s affairs. “Uncle, my family doesn’t care about me. I want to save up for school. I may be small, but I’m strong. I’m not afraid.”
Old Jiang sighed, convinced by the boy’s sincerity. “Be careful, then. Snakes are cunning and cold-blooded. One bite could be deadly if it’s venomous. But words won’t teach you—come with me when you’re free, and I’ll show you the ropes.”
Zhang Yan’s eyes lit up. “I’m free now! Thank you, Uncle. When I earn money, I’ll buy you wine.”
Old Jiang laughed, impressed by the boy’s perceptiveness. Leading him up the mountain, he pointed out dangers while Zhang Yan memorized every word. Fear gnawed at him, but for the sake of his future, he clenched his teeth and pressed on.
The mountain was thick with vegetation, the narrow path barely visible underfoot. “Watch your step, boy. Snakes could be anywhere,” Old Jiang warned, gripping his net as he scanned the grass. Suddenly, he tensed, signaling Zhang Yan to stop before pointing out a large brown snake coiled in the undergrowth.
Zhang Yan shuddered—it was his first time seeing such a thick serpent, its patterned body coiled ominously. His bravado wavered.
Old Jiang chuckled at his fear before expertly startling the snake, seizing its neck and pinning its tail to prevent escape. “Don’t just stand there! Help me bag it. Roll it tight and tie it securely. Can you handle it? You’re pale as a ghost—maybe this isn’t for you. A big one like this could crush you. Remember, bag the body first so it can’t twist around and bite.”
Zhang Yan’s hands trembled as he tightened the rope, ashamed of his earlier bold claims. Without looking up, he knew Old Jiang doubted him. Stubborn pride surged as he secured the bag, hefted it, and wiped sweat—whether from heat or fear, he couldn’t tell.
Old Jiang’s initial skepticism faded as he watched the boy struggle but persist. Ruffling Zhang Yan’s hair, he said, “Alright, having a kid around might liven things up. Come on, let’s cook this one. You’ll taste what the rich folks enjoy. We risk our necks for them but never indulge ourselves. Learn quick—this job’s easy if you’re bold and careful.”
Zhang Yan nodded eagerly, replaying Old Jiang’s movements in his mind. Back at the old man’s sparse but tidy hut, he watched as the skilled hands butchered the snake, saving every part.
“It’s creepy. How can anyone eat this?” Zhang Yan muttered.
Old Jiang scoffed. “Fool! Snake meat’s tender, the broth divine. No wonder the wealthy love it.”
Soon, the aroma of simmering snake soup filled the hut, making Zhang Yan’s mouth water. “People fear what they don’t understand, missing out on such goodness,” Old Jiang mused. “Remember, boy—fortune favors the bold. Stand tall, act decisively, and pour your heart into your work. At my age, two snakes a month feed me for two. Master this, and you’ll never starve. Scorpions are trickier—stick to snakes.”
As Old Jiang regaled him with tales, Zhang Yan’s fear turned to fascination. By the time he sipped the rich broth, his hesitation was gone. For someone who rarely tasted meat, the flavor was revelatory.
After the meal, Zhang Yan left determined to master the craft—one day, he’d cook snake for his aunt.
At the village entrance, a luxurious carriage rolled in. The driver was the same man who’d visited Chunfu before. What were they doing back? Under the old locust tree, villagers gossiped, including Zhang Yan’s mother. Recognizing the visitors, he darted off to warn Chunfu.
Li Xiu’e, lounging under the tree, perked up at the sight of the carriage—even grander than last time. The driver ignored her as she chased after it, chattering about her sister-in-law’s whereabouts.
Inside, Shang Jing remained silent. The Pei family already knew of Chunfu’s troubles—this woman wasn’t worth a response.
The carriage outpaced Li Xiu’e, but curiosity drove her to Jicheng’s house. Panting, she arrived just as the driver carried in two large chests. Her eyes gleamed at the sight of two elegantly dressed young masters in the courtyard.
Liansheng’s wife, awkwardly lingering as instructed, edged closer to Chunfu, who frowned at the intrusion.
“Master Pei, I thought I made myself clear last time. It was a small favor—no need for such gifts,” Chunfu said, ushering Zhang Yan to shut the kitchen door against Li Xiu’e’s prying eyes.
Pei Qian lazily shielded his wife, wary of her unpredictable moods. “Without your buns that day, I might’ve starved. It’s only right to thank you properly. These are just humble supplies and a hundred taels—please accept them.”
Chunfu refused politely, uneasy at Li Xiu’e’s greedy stare. “Your visit honors us, but we’re used to simple lives. Such wealth would only bring trouble.”
Li Xiu’e, overhearing, exploded. “You fool! We’re starving, and you refuse a windfall? After all we’ve done for you? These are mine now!” She lunged for the chests.
“Who said you could touch them?” A shadow darted out, startling her into dropping the chest as a low, icy voice cut through the air.
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