Chapter 39:

After the division of the household, Qiaoyun tidied up the old courtyard early the next morning, made a bowl of noodle soup for Jiliang, and waited on him until he finished eating before returning to her parents’ home. On the way, she passed by Damanzi’s house and saw him half-lying in the yard, basking in the sun. She quickly walked over.

“Uncle Man, I heard you’re still hiring people to weed your fields? Have you found anyone yet? If not, would you consider me?”

Damanzi opened his bleary eyes and, recognizing Qiaoyun, perked up. “Rumors are flying that you and the second son have split from the family. Is it true?”

Qiaoyun smiled awkwardly. “With Jiliang in that state, we didn’t want to burden Father and the others, so we moved out. Uncle Man, what about the work?”

Damanzi knew the young wives in the village well. Qiaoyun was diligent and strong, someone he could trust with the work. He nodded immediately. “Alright, if you can do a thorough job, I’ll rely on you from now on. My wife and I are too old for this kind of labor. It’s the only way.”

Qiaoyun was delighted. “Don’t worry, Uncle. I’ll go back to my parents’ place today and start working tomorrow. It’ll be done in two or three days.” After exchanging a few more words with him, she continued on her way. She refused to believe that hard work could lead to starvation. Her parents were just too lazy, missing out on such a good opportunity to earn money. Though, to be fair, people weren’t keen on working for Damazi—he had been fastidious since his youth, unable to tolerate even a single weed in his fields, which made the job tedious.

At her parents’ home, she took a small bag of grain and some cooking utensils she lacked. Her elder brother watched silently, and though her sister-in-law dared not complain, Qiaoyun felt a warmth in her heart. Her brother was a decent man, not one to alienate family over his wife’s nagging. Still, he frowned and asked, “With Jiliang like that, how will you manage in the long run? If he can’t earn, will you? I warned him time and again, but he wouldn’t listen. Now look where he’s landed you.”

Qiaoyun bit down on a rope, holding the bag open for her brother to grip while she tied it. Smiling, she said, “I know you care for me, Brother. But it’s fine—we’re out of that household now. Jiliang and I will make it work. I’m thinking of reaching out to his elder brother. They’re reasonable people, stern-faced but kind-hearted. Yesterday, I borrowed some flour from them, and they didn’t turn me away. I’ve scolded Jiliang countless times, but he’s just hopeless. From now on, I’ll be the one calling the shots at home. I won’t indulge his temper anymore.”

Her brother grinned and gathered the things she wanted to take. “You’ve always had a good head on your shoulders. You won’t be taken advantage of. If anything comes up, just come to me. Let’s see who dares to say otherwise.”

Qiaoyun nudged him, noticing her sister-in-law’s resentful expression. She sighed inwardly—her sister-in-law probably hated her guts. After a moment’s thought, she said, “Brother, we’re all married now. Consider this stuff borrowed. Once things settle down at home, I’ll return it.”

Her brother glanced at his sullen wife and felt a surge of irritation. “We’re family. Who cares about a bag of grain? If anyone dares to gossip, they’ll answer to me.”

Seeing her sister-in-law shrink back, Qiaoyun decided not to linger. She didn’t want to cause strife between them. After saying goodbye to her mother, who was sewing shoe soles on the kang, she hoisted the bag of flour onto her shoulder and left. Her brother, still scolding his wife inside, looked out the window and saw his sister struggling under the weight, trying not to disturb them. His heart ached. Damn it all—why did his sister have to suffer so? From now on, all the heavy labor would fall on her shoulders. Women were supposed to stay home, embroidering and doing chores. Look how spoiled his own wife had become, growing more arrogant by the day.

He hurried out and took the bag from her, chiding, “What, are you a man now? What if you strain yourself? I’ll carry it back for you.”

Qiaoyun rubbed her sore shoulder. Strong as she was, she was still a woman. She smiled. “Thanks, Brother.”

The siblings walked one after the other toward Dongpo Village, the setting sun casting a golden glow over them, just like when they were children carrying baskets of pigweed home from the fields, laughing as time slipped away.

Chunfu returned with pigweed and played with the puppy for a while, wondering why Zhang Yan hadn’t come yet. She planned to take him to town next time to broaden his horizons. For a boy, an open mind was crucial. No matter what path Zhang Yan took in life, she didn’t want him to regret missing out on something. When the sun was nearly overhead, she picked up her basket and axe and headed for the mountains.

On the way to Qingshui Mountain, she passed a field that was usually empty. Today, however, she heard a voice calling from behind. Turning, she spotted a straw-hatted figure in the field. As the person drew closer, she recognized Qiaoyun.

“Little sister-in-law, why are you going up the mountain alone? There are wild boars up there. Few dare to go.”

Chunfu smiled faintly. “I’m craving some wild fruit.”

Qiaoyun glanced at the unfinished weeding in the field, took off her hat, and fanned herself. “I’ll finish this later. I’ll go with you.”

Chunfu didn’t refuse. Having company would put her at ease. She picked up a long stick from the ground and handed it to Qiaoyun. “There are snakes and insects everywhere this season. Be careful.”

Qiaoyun grinned, revealing a row of white teeth. “After the division, we don’t have our own land, so I’m doing odd jobs to make ends meet. Jiliang’s been on medicine for days and is doing better—he can walk now. I don’t make him do heavy work, just light chores at home.”

Not wanting to leave her hanging, Chunfu said, “I’ve heard honey water, pears, and grapes are good for the lungs. Not sure if it’s true, but they’re tasty and harmless anyway.”

This was the first time anyone had shown such concern for her. Qiaoyun was genuinely worried about Jiliang’s health. Whether it worked or not, these were good things that wouldn’t hurt him. She nodded. “I’ll take your advice.” Watching Chunfu carefully pick the ripest, juiciest fruit, she helped. “Little sister-in-law, can you eat all this?”

Chunfu eyed the smaller fruits, thinking they’d ripen soon. “I’ll manage. They make good snacks. And since they’re free, why not? Better than letting them rot or feed worms.”

There was an understated elegance about Chunfu that Qiaoyun found comforting yet intimidating. After a while, she ventured timidly, “Can I come chat with you sometimes?”

Chunfu paused. She’d be busy soon and didn’t want to commit. Smiling, she deflected, “Take some fruit home. I’m going to gather mushrooms for Jicheng’s soup tonight.”

Qiaoyun sensed her reluctance to grow closer and felt a pang of sadness. But she wasn’t ready to give up. “I’ll take some too, for a side dish.”

She couldn’t understand why Chunfu needed half a basket of fruit and mushrooms for just two people. Did they really eat that much? But it wasn’t her place to ask. Everyone had their reasons.

They didn’t stay long on the mountain. Qiaoyun had fieldwork to finish and hurried home.

Chunfu took her time, unhurried as always. She’d noticed Qiaoyun’s intentions but couldn’t afford to let semi-strangers cling to her. She was selfish—why share her hard-earned ideas before she and Jicheng had even secured their own comfort? At home, she washed the fruit and set it in a breezy spot to prevent spoilage. She made some jam and practiced a few decorative designs while waiting for Zhang Yan. The boy had promised to come today—where was he? Had something come up at home? She waited until Jicheng returned from town, but Zhang Yan never showed.

Seeing the charming little pastries on the plate, Jicheng’s fingers itched. He popped one into his mouth, chewed, and frowned. “Even better than last time. My wife is truly talented.”

Chunfu beamed, savoring the praise. Watching him take off his outer robe, she said, “Don’t wash clothes at night. Aren’t you tired enough? I’ll do it tomorrow—it won’t take long.” She couldn’t bring herself to admit her embarrassment. He always insisted on changing her clothes, even washing her undergarments himself. To him, it was natural; to her, mortifying.

Over dinner, they chatted idly. He mentioned how Zhou Jing had inexplicably snapped out of his infatuation with Miss An, growing quiet and composed—perhaps because she’d agreed to marry him, settling his heart. Chunfu suddenly remembered Jin Liu’er saying An Yuning loved floral-flavored treats. Scouring her memory for recipes, she realized roses and jasmine were in season now, while other exotic flowers were beyond their reach.

“Can you find me some jasmine and rose petals when you have time? I want to experiment, maybe help Zhou Jing win his lady’s heart.” Chunfu ate her small bowl of noodles, topped with meat broth, a dash of vinegar, and salt—simple but satisfying. Paired with mushroom and greens soup, it was a comforting meal.

Jicheng ate quickly, finishing his bowl in no time. He chuckled. “Sure. That boy’s been pining for so long. Now that she’s agreed to marry him, he’d better keep her happy.”

Chunfu pouted. “And here I thought you’d dote on me more.”

Jicheng ruffled her hair, grinning. “Who says I don’t? My wife loves silver, so I’m working hard to earn a mountain of it for her.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, shooting him a mock glare. “Such a smooth talker. Go sit over there.”

When he moved to wash the dishes, she stopped him. “Haven’t you worked enough today? I’ll handle it.”

By the time she finished, dusk had fallen. Though not tired, she sat motionless. Jicheng brought hot water and silently began washing her feet, his handsome face tinged with pink. Remembering last night’s boldness, she stayed quiet, too embarrassed to speak.

He massaged the pressure points on her soles with care, and under his large hands, she felt her whole body relax. The silence grew awkward, so he murmured, “Soak them every day. The mountain path is long—it’s not good to walk too much.”

She hummed in agreement, smiling. “What’s that compared to you? You’re the real busy one. I meant to massage your shoulders yesterday, but… I’ll make it up tonight.”

Jicheng flushed too. Despite their age, they were both novices in such matters. Life was long—why should they blush like teenagers? It was the most natural thing in the world. Other couples didn’t turn scarlet at the mere mention.

After drying her feet and helping her into shoes, he said, “Rest early. When you come back the day after, remember to pick up the goods from the shop. We’ll open for business soon—can’t afford delays.”

He wrapped an arm around her as they walked back, teasing, “There’s still time. Why the rush? I’d forget anything but your affairs.”

The next morning, Chunfu carried a basin to the back to wash clothes, surprised to find Jin Juan there. The woman’s posture was more stooped than before, her movements stiff even as she shook out the garments. Chunfu opened her mouth but remained silent, squatting beside her.

Jin Juan spoke first, her voice soft as ever. “You heard that day, didn’t you? It’s routine now. He beats me often, but I’m too cowardly to fight back. If not for my kind brother-in-law, I might’ve given up on life. Don’t pity me—it’s just my lot.”

Chunfu stared at her swollen cheek and bruised eye, furious. “How could he hit you so hard?”

Something in Chunfu’s tone broke the dam. Jin Juan’s grievances poured out. “He accuses me of adultery with his brother, says I’m tainted, fit only to be their servant. He beats me if the food’s bad, if laundry’s late, if I displease his mother. I’ve had enough. I hate it—why did my parents marry me to this monster? Why him and not…”

Suddenly, Chunfu understood. Given Jin Juan’s age, she should’ve been wed to Zhao Si’s younger brother, Zhao Yun. Her parents had promised her to Zhao Yun, but it was all a lie. Because Zhao Si couldn’t find a wife, his family had resorted to this despicable trick. How vile. All Chunfu could do was pat her shoulder in comfort. How tragic for women of this era, denied control over their own lives.

“Forget it. I’ve accepted my fate. If he has the guts, let him beat me to death. At least I won’t suffer anymore.” Jin Juan wiped her tears, laughing through the pain, her face a mess.

Chunfu knew she shouldn’t meddle, but she couldn’t bear to watch Jin Juan be driven to suicide. Sighing, she said, “If he dislikes you so, why not divorce? Better than mutual torment. Though I suppose separation isn’t easy.”

Jin Juan shook her head, scrubbing the clothes. “I’ll take it one day at a time. Let’s see how long my life lasts.”

Chunfu longed to help, but the realities flashing through her mind made her sigh. In a man’s world, how could a woman escape? Even if divorced, how would Jin Juan survive? If her family rejected her, what then?

“The road isn’t as narrow as you think. When pushed to the brink, why not fight for yourself? Must you just stand there and let him kill you? Bullies prey on the weak—the more you fear, the harder he’ll hit… It’s not my place, but think about it.” Chunfu finished washing Jicheng’s clothes quickly and left with a smile.

Jin Juan pondered for a long time. Her battered mind finally cleared. If this life was unbearable, if she was doomed to be beaten no matter what, why cower in corners? She didn’t want to just cry, helpless against the pain. After washing, she stood with her basin and glanced toward Jicheng’s home. She still envied Chunfu. How wonderful it would be to have a man like Jicheng. Zhao Yun’s face floated into her mind, and she laughed bitterly. Their status… Even if he knew—which he likely didn’t, having just returned—what could he do? They were sister-in-law and brother-in-law.

This world had no justice. Even if she and Zhao Si had never touched, even if she were pure as winter snow, she’d still be slandered. Suddenly, she didn’t want to endure anymore. If they wanted to curse her, let them curse their fill.

Chunfu didn’t expect Jin Juan to have any epiphanies. People of this era were born with a servile nature, their reluctance to resist ingrained in their bones.

Back home, she stared at the jar of jam, wondering how to preserve it long-term. Her head throbbed with the effort when Zhang Yan’s voice came from outside. She hurried out and pulled him in. “I made you something delicious yesterday. Why didn’t you come?”

Zhang Yan had avoided coming because he didn’t want his aunt to see his injuries. Before leaving, he’d checked himself in the mirror to ensure nothing showed. Grinning, he said, “Will your business work, Aunt? Is the treat still here? I haven’t eaten all morning.”

He was truly starving. For days, his mother had given him scant portions, claiming he didn’t need as much as Zhang Tong, who “used his brain.” He’d borne it silently, telling himself it’d get better when he was older.

Chunfu ignored his question, spotting the scratch near his eye. Her face darkened. “Your mother hit you? Why?” The thin mark looked like a fingernail’s work.

Zhang Yan grinned, stuffing food into his mouth. “Isn’t it always like this? I’m used to it.”

After a moment, Chunfu said, “Why not come live with me? Once my goods sell, we’ll have money soon. You won’t have to suffer with them anymore.”

Zhang Yan was adrift in this vast sea, a piece of flotsam with no anchor. Chunfu couldn’t bear to think how much harder his life would be if she didn’t reach out.