Chapter 40:

Zhang Yan was exhausted from eating and gulped down a large pot of water before turning to look at Chunfu, his eyes squinting with laughter. “No, I don’t want people gossiping. In a couple of years when I’m older, my mother probably won’t beat me as much. Auntie, you should hurry up and have a little sister—I can help take care of her.”

Chunfu sighed. Zhang Yan was stubborn; once he made up his mind, not even an ox could pull him back. She could only advise, “If they treat you badly, just come to my house. You won’t lack food, clothes, or a place to stay. I refuse to believe a perfectly good person like you can be driven to despair by them.”

Seeing his aunt’s serious expression, Zhang Yan’s sinking heart suddenly felt steadier. He nodded. “I understand. Auntie, whatever you need help with, I’ll do it. I don’t want to go back today.”

“How about we go up the mountain to catch fish? We’ll keep one for soup tonight and try making salted fish with the rest.”

Since there was nothing pressing at home today, it was a good way to pass the time. Normally, she’d just eat a quick meal and nap until Jicheng was nearly home. Idle days like this just slipped by.

Zhang Yan, however, widened his eyes in surprise. “You’re so brave! I’ve only sneaked up there once. After hearing someone died there, I never dared go back.”

Chunfu patted his head and smiled. “We won’t go deep inside, just around the edges. You know, the mountains are dangerous, but they’re also full of treasures. Poor folks like us don’t have much to rely on, so we have to find ways to get by. The things up there are free—just takes a bit of effort. And effort? That’s the cheapest thing we have.”

Though young, Zhang Yan understood. He lowered his head, lost in thought. A strange idea flickered through his mind and vanished just as quickly, but he caught its tail and felt a sudden eagerness. He finally realized that being young didn’t mean he had to sit around waiting. Since his family didn’t care for him, he might as well find ways to take care of himself.

Zhang Yan helped Chunfu carry the basket. As they reached the mountain path, Chunfu glanced at the fields and saw Qiaoyun crouched and working under the scorching sun. Most people sought shade by now, so she must have started early. Remembering Qiaoyun’s timid attempts to please her, Chunfu felt conflicted. Qiaoyun wasn’t a bad person, but Chunfu couldn’t bring herself to bridge the gap.

Neither aunt nor nephew were experienced, and after half a day by the river, they’d only caught three fish. Chunfu watched as Zhang Yan, knee-deep in water, sweated and flailed, the slippery fish darting through his fingers. His frustration amused her to no end.

Zhang Yan pouted. “One more, then I’m done. This is too much work.”

Chunfu glanced at the setting sun and stood, brushing off her pants. “Alright, time to head back. Your uncle should be on his way home by now.”

This time, luck was on Zhang Yan’s side. He spotted a fish, grabbed it, and triumphantly held it up with a grin. “Look, I got one!” His proud, bright smile reminded Chunfu of how a child should be.

By the time they descended, smoke curled from chimneys across the village. Chunfu was surprised to see Qiaoyun still toiling in the field. The woman straightened, rubbing her sore back, and called out with a smile, “Little sister-in-law, back from the mountain?” She started walking over.

Chunfu nodded, frowning at her exhaustion. “Why aren’t you home yet? Don’t push yourself just because you’re young. Take a break.”

Qiaoyun beamed and nodded eagerly. “I know, I’ll head back soon. Once this field’s done the day after tomorrow, I can rest properly.”

Without much thought, Chunfu pulled a fish from the basket and handed it over. “Zhang Yan caught this. Take it home and make some soup to nourish yourself. Jicheng will be back soon, so we’d better hurry.” With that, she left with Zhang Yan. Tomorrow would be busy, so she wanted to make the most of today’s free time.

At home, Chunfu boiled water for Zhang Yan to wash up. The boy volunteered to clean the fish, but she shook her head. “Leave that to your uncle when he gets back. You wash up first. I’ll refill the water jug so he can drink when he arrives.”

Inside, she filled the jug and noticed a half-basket of eggs on the table. Jicheng usually had them boiled or in soup for breakfast with steamed buns. Since he liked seasoned food, she decided to make spiced eggs for variety. She chided herself for not thinking of it sooner, but it wasn’t too late.

When Jicheng returned, he found Zhang Yan sitting under a tree and patted his head. “Where’s your aunt?”

“Inside, filling the water jug. She said you could drink when you got back.”

Jicheng set his basket down as the family dog tugged playfully at his pants—the little thing had grown plump from good food. He nudged it aside and entered the house, finding Chunfu lost in thought. “What’s on your mind? Miss Jin called me over today. She remembered your porridge and gave me some fruit, sugar, and half a tael of silver. She said she only talked at the flower-viewing party, but you did all the work, so she couldn’t take advantage. She even paid for the fruit porridge.” He pulled out his wages along with the money and handed it to her.

Chunfu’s face lit up with joy. She gave him twenty coppers—men needed money outside, and she didn’t want him struggling. “Miss Jin said we’d split sixty-forty. She must think we rely on this to get by. What a kind person. Well, for her sake, I’ll make it tonight. Zhang Yan caught fish today—clean them before changing.”

Chunfu had grown quicker at cooking. Jicheng obediently set to work while she kneaded dough and washed vegetables. Zhang Yan tended the fire, their banter making the evening warm and lively.

After cleaning the fish, Jicheng stripped to wash up. Chunfu boiled the fish soup, adding greens until the broth turned milky white and fragrant.

Once ready, Jicheng carried the pot to the table. Chunfu served generous portions of fish and potatoes over noodles for him and Zhang Yan, filling their bowls to the brim.

Seated together, Jicheng served Zhang Yan first, then Chunfu, and finally himself. “I left the flower gathering to Zhou Jing. Can’t let him laze around.” He’d noticed Zhou Jing had changed—less smiling, rarely mentioning Miss An. He wondered why.

“Good. He should mind his own business. Thinking about our future getting better makes me happy. Today, I saw Qiaoyun working under the blazing sun without rest. She’s only a few years older than me but carries her family alone.” Chunfu sighed. Everyone had their fate, and women were often at a disadvantage. Life was long—when would it ease up?

Zhang Yan listened silently. The fish was tender and delicious—his first time tasting something so good. The last batch Chunfu sent had all gone to Zhang Tong. They said fish made you smarter—no wonder his mother…

After dinner, Jicheng washed the dishes while Chunfu pulled Zhang Yan aside to play with the dog, insisting chores weren’t his job. By lamplight, she chopped fruit, adding it to simmering sugar syrup, stirring slowly. It wasn’t hard, but few could afford the ingredients, making it a luxury.

Once done, she set the pot aside to cool and boiled eggs with spices. When nearly cooked, she cracked the shells slightly to let the flavors seep in.

Zhang Yan, enticed by the aroma, kept glancing at the kitchen. Chunfu shook her head with a smile—she knew the eggs needed time to absorb the flavors. Later, worried Zhang Yan’s mother might scold him, she wrapped five eggs in cloth for him to take, warning him to be careful and share one if Zhang Tong demanded it to avoid trouble.

Zhang Yan had no intention of sharing. He’d found a secret hiding spot outside where he often sat alone, watching the swaying tree shade, feeling at peace.

Jicheng walked Zhang Yan home. Returning, he found Chunfu already in bed and sighed. “Didn’t even get to soak your feet today.”

She sat up, shaking her head. “I washed them myself. Come lie down—I’ll massage your shoulders.”

Jicheng refused. Once was enough—her touch had left him burning, his body reacting embarrassingly. Afraid of repeating the torment, he shook his head. “No need. I’m not that tired. Used to it by now.”

Chunfu huffed at his rejection but seized the chance as he lay down, kneading his shoulders with force. “Feel better now? Less sore?”

Jicheng laughed, pushing her away after a moment. “Stop fooling around. If you stir me up, don’t blame me for losing control and taking you early.”

Her hands froze. “You… want to again?”

His face flushed, and he pulled her down, holding her tightly. “Enough. Go to sleep.”

Chunfu giggled, burying her face in his chest before drifting off.

The next morning, Chunfu woke with Jicheng because she’d clung to him, forcing him to rouse her. With no desire to sleep more, she packed the porridge for him to take and shared breakfast. When Liansheng called for Jicheng over the wall, they exchanged a glance—words weren’t needed.

Liansheng’s wife was busy today, so Chunfu worked alone in the field, far from the other women. The rare cool breeze brushed her lips, lifting strands of her hair across her vision.

Dew dampened her skirt as she tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing her fair, jade-like cheeks and cherry-red lips—enough to make a passerby stare.

Jikun, having indulged at home under his parents’ care, had gained weight though his injuries weren’t fully healed. His leg was permanently lame, but he could move now. Restless, he’d ventured out today and stumbled upon this beauty.

He grabbed a passerby, gesturing ahead. “Whose wife is that? She looks unfamiliar.”

The man, hurrying to work, recognized Jikun and sneered. “Don’t you know? That’s Jicheng’s wife, your cousin. Don’t get any ideas.”

Jikun rubbed his nose and limped away, glancing back resentfully.

Chunfu filled her basket with pigweed, wiping sweat, when Jinjuan appeared behind her with a smile. Chunfu glared. “You scared me! Why so quiet?”

Jinjuan’s bruises hadn’t faded, making her smile pitiful. She cut fresh grass nearby. “The other wives gather to gossip—I’m probably their favorite topic.”

Chunfu looked up and met Chunju’s venomous glare, unsure what she’d done to offend her. Shrugging it off, she turned to Jinjuan. “Let them talk—it’s all they’re good for. Did he trouble you again at home?”

Jinjuan smiled. “No. With Yun home, Zhao Si and his mother don’t dare. Besides, look at my face—another hit and I can’t work. The Zhaos care about appearances.”

Chunfu sensed a change in Jinjuan—her ability to laugh through hardship was rare.

Jinjuan noticed her gaze and chuckled. “I took your advice. Worst case, I die—I won’t endure anymore. Why should I suffer their abuse? Plenty of fierce wives out there don’t end badly. If no one cares for me, I’ll care for myself. I’m making buns at noon—I’ll bring you two so you don’t have to cook.”

Chunfu almost laughed—this once-gentle woman now spoke like a tough guy. She admired Jinjuan’s courage. Most women endured silently; few fought back. Aside from Liansheng’s wife, Chunfu had no close friends. If Jinjuan wanted to bond, she wouldn’t refuse.

Despite her small frame, Jinjuan worked swiftly. By the time Chunfu finished, Jinjuan had long since filled her basket. Walking home, they passed Chunju’s group.

“Chunfu,” Chunju sneered, “heard your Jicheng’s doing well in town as a foreman. Since he’s from East Slope Village, shouldn’t he help fellow villagers? Chen Niu asked nicely, but Jicheng refused and took Liansheng instead. What’s that about—playing favorites?”

Before Chunfu could reply, Jinjuan stepped forward. “Sister Chunju, did your family feed or clothe Jicheng’s household? How dare you demand help? Look at your face in the river—wide as a washbasin. Shameless. Others would laugh at you.”

Jinjuan’s bold defense warmed Chunfu’s heart. She pulled Jinjuan back and faced Chunju calmly.

To everyone, Chunfu had been the clueless fool, but her poised stance unnerved Chunju, who faltered. “What, am I wrong? Shouldn’t villagers help each other? So stingy—no wonder no one likes your Jicheng. Bad luck and worse character.”

Chunfu smiled coolly. “Villagers? We all earn our keep. Who said we must carry your family? If you can’t make money, shut up and farm. Blaming others for your failures is laughable. Sister Chunju, forgive my bluntness, but I heard Chen Niu spent money at the brothel drinking with girls. I didn’t believe it, but the witness swore it was him. Instead of whining here, why not ask him?”

She had nothing to fear—many had heard this on the carriage. The women’s expressions confirmed everyone knew except Chunju. Realizing this, Chunju trembled with rage and sprinted off, abandoning her basket.

Chunfu smirked. “Judge not, lest ye be judged. Focus on your own life before meddling in others’.” She made it clear—she wouldn’t help. So what if she was petty? Why should she tolerate their ridicule? With reasonable people, she’d reason. With troublemakers, she’d return the favor. Shamelessness? Easy—no teaching required.

As Chunfu and Jinjuan walked away laughing, the onlookers realized: Chunfu wasn’t foolish anymore. Her sharp retorts flowed effortlessly, unscripted.