Chapter 21

At the hour of Mao, the roosters crowed in succession. In the Gu household kitchen, the clatter of pots and pans stirred Gu Chengwu and Zhang Cuilan from their sleep.

Jiang Yun, newly married into the family, dared not sleep in late, fearing reproach; she rose even before the roosters crowed.

The flames on the stove cast a bright glow on the wall. Jiang Yun boiled a large pot of hot water, ready for their use upon waking—this was routine for her in the Jiang family.

Everything in the Gu household felt unfamiliar. Jiang Yun did not know where the grains were stored and dared not move anything recklessly. She settled for boiling water first.

Sitting by the stove, the firelight flickering across his face, Jiang Yun rested his chin on his hand, his expression gradually softening as he recalled the events of last night.

After the guests left, Zhang Cuilan tidied the courtyard briefly and went to bed; dusk had already fallen.

Gu Chengwu blew out the red candle, plunging the room into darkness. The two sat upright on the bed, silently facing each other. Jiang Yun twisted her fingers nervously in the night, eyes full of uncertainty. Now that the lights were out, should they sleep?

Neither spoke. Jiang Yun was at a loss but forced herself to ask, "Shall I... sleep outside?"

They had both washed up before bed and were now clean. Jiang Yun still carried the faint scent of soap pods, which subtly reached Gu Chengwu’s nose.

A gentle breeze stirred. Gu Chengwu turned onto the inner side of the bed. This bed had been specially made by a carpenter before their marriage—large and sturdy enough to comfortably hold two people.

Seeing Gu Chengwu lie down, Jiang Yun cautiously settled onto the bed’s edge, not daring to take up more space for fear of crowding him.

The crimson quilt was new, softened by sun-drying, and the entire body sank into its warmth.

Jiang Yun had not closed her eyes all day. Now, touching the soft, comfortable bed, exhaustion overwhelmed her mind. In the Jiang household, she had only ever slept on hard wooden planks with some dry straw—it was impossible to sleep on a proper bed.

In the darkness, Gu Chengwu kept his eyes open. He was twenty years old, no longer a naive boy. In the military camp, he had once caught his soldiers secretly reading books and looking at pictures, or uttering words ordinary people would be ashamed to say.

At the time, he only thought it violated military discipline and caused disorder, nothing more.

Now, lying beside him was a young man, and those past images flooded his mind like a tide. Gu Chengwu’s fingers twitched; he turned to lie over Jiang Yun, arms propped on either side, their breaths barely an inch apart.

Beneath him came the steady, long breaths and the barely visible sleeping face in the dark.

Gu Chengwu froze, clenching his fists tightly, staring at Jiang Yun. After what felt like an eternity, he reluctantly shifted back to the inner side of the bed.

It was the most peaceful sleep Jiang Yun had had in over ten years—no hunger, no cold, no insults or blows. The Gu household was good. He resolved to be more diligent so as not to invite dislike.

The fire crackled on the stove. The boiling water calmed. Jiang Yun’s thoughts returned to reality. There were three in the family; each had a bowl of hot water, and more was prepared for washing.

Turning around, Jiang Yun almost collided with a tall man at the doorway, startled enough to nearly spill the hot water he held.

"You’re awake," Gu Chengwu nodded and used the hot water to wash up simply. Zhang Cuilan had stayed up late cleaning and had not yet risen; only the couple remained in the kitchen, silent.

Finally, Gu Chengwu broke the silence. "I’m going to the town today. Is there anything you want me to bring back?"

Jiang Yun hurriedly shook her head. She was eating from the Gu household’s provisions and did not dare ask for anything. Lowering her head, she hid her thoughts beneath her lashes.

She was not a cherished child with doting parents. She had come to her husband with no dowry, only a few coins she had earned herself and some faded spring clothes. Being in the Gu household, she must be cautious and not overeat.

Seeing her timid nature, Gu Chengwu said nothing, added firewood, and went to work in the courtyard.

---

At dawn, Zhang Cuilan awoke, groggy but noticing the light in the kitchen, realizing there was a new person in the house. She was diligent and would not act haughty like other women. Rolling up her sleeves, she began working alongside Jiang Yun.

"Our household has no farmland; besides what we hunt, we have to buy food. Rice, flour, and beans are usually kept in the cabinet on the east wall. Meat is in the large pickling jar..." Zhang Cuilan chattered on, initiating the day’s routine.

Jiang Yun followed closely, listening and committing everything to memory to familiarize herself with the household. When she saw the meat in the jar, her eyes widened in disbelief.

Salted meat neatly stacked to fill nearly half the jar—Jiang Yun had never seen so much meat in her life. Previously, when Jiang Mo wanted meat, Jiang Shunde would secretly scold him.

Zhang Cuilan caught Jiang Yun’s reaction and smiled. "Wu usually sells his game but keeps some for the family. He doesn’t tell outsiders to avoid trouble."

It wasn’t stinginess but caution born of experience. It was wise not to flaunt wealth lest thieves take notice.

Jiang Yun nodded earnestly, "I won’t say anything."

Seeing her attentiveness, Zhang Cuilan relaxed, her expression lighter. Together, they prepared breakfast: five large steamed buns, a pot of oily white rice porridge, and two small side dishes.

They hadn’t planned to cook vegetables, but Zhang Cuilan thought, today was the new husband’s first day in the house. Given Jiang Yun’s hardships in the Jiang family, they’d eat well—some pickled meat and stir-fried greens.

For Jiang Yun, this was unimaginable luxury.

The three sat down. Jiang Yun picked up her chopsticks but did not eat, glancing at Gu Chengwu beside her. He ate quickly, and before she knew it, more than half the bun was gone.

Jiang Yun swallowed nervously, reluctant to take a bun, fearing it wouldn’t be enough, let alone meat.

Her thoughts drifted to the first night she met Gu Chengwu—in the dark, windy forest, a half piece of white steamed bun had rolled from somewhere, followed by Gu Chengwu and a large black dog.

Her eyelids fluttered, recalling the embarrassment of their first meeting, when she picked up a mud-stained bun to fill her stomach, never imagining that the man she married would be him.

A sharp sting rose in her nose; her eyes reddened slightly. Suddenly, a bun was handed to her, with two thick slices of pickled meat inside, steaming hot.

Jiang Yun was stunned, looked at Gu Chengwu, realizing it was for her.

Zhang Cuilan witnessed this and smiled, anticipating harmonious days ahead.

"After we eat, let’s return the borrowed tables and chairs to each household, then go to Aunt Hua’s in the southern village for some old-style tofu. If we go late, it might be sold out."

Jiang Yun had heard of Aunt Hua, who, like Lady Wang, sold tofu but with a different flavor. However, Liu Guihua always kept watch over her, never allowing Jiang Yun to buy.

In the backyard stable, after eating, Gu Chengwu saddled up his young bay horse and prepared to head to town.

"Leaving so soon? Will you be back by noon?" Zhang Cuilan asked casually.

Gu Chengwu usually didn’t return by noon when going to town, often bringing a few buns or eating casually with Li Si.

This time, he intended the same. But meeting Jiang Yun’s eager gaze, his words caught in his throat before he said, "I will."

The horse’s hooves kicked up dust as his tall, handsome figure quickly disappeared from view. Jiang Yun watched him leave, then hurried to help Zhang Cuilan tidy up, not daring to slack off.

Returning tables and stools was troublesome; several trips were needed. At each household, Jiang Yun and Zhang Cuilan were drawn into long conversations.

Zhang Cuilan smiled at everyone. As the saying goes, you don’t strike a smiling face, so she had a good reputation in the village. Even Zhao Xiang, who usually found fault with others, had nothing to say about her.

After a whole morning, they finally returned the last item.

---

"Too late today. I’ll come to help with sewing another day," the woman who lent tables and chairs saw them to the door, handing them a handful of peanuts before leaving.

Zhang Cuilan remembered kindness and always returned it when possible. When returning items, she noticed Jiang Yun’s timidity—she instinctively hid behind Zhang Cuilan when faced with strangers.

Yet despite her timidity, Jiang Yun was polite, greeting everyone properly. Fortunately, by some twist of fate, she had married well; as long as she lived honestly, it would be fine.

"We’re almost at Sister Hua’s. Even people from town love her tofu. Today, buy plenty—stewed and fried, get a bit of each," Zhang Cuilan said briskly, her face bright with smiles.

Country folk lived for their meals outside of busy farm seasons; good food and variety made life worthwhile.

Jiang Yun nodded obediently.

"Did you cook back home?"

Jiang Yun lifted her eyes, "I did. I prepared all three meals daily."

That was curious. Zhang Cuilan had heard that Jiang Mo was the cook in the Jiang household, praised as adept in both hall and kitchen, while Jiang Yun was belittled. It was probably Liu Guihua’s doing—she was a wicked woman.

"Good. Today, your godmother will help you, and we’ll see how your cooking is."

Zhang Cuilan had her own reasons; Jiang Yun and her godson would spend more time together. It was worth testing Jiang Yun’s skills, and if she couldn’t cook, she’d teach her.

Jiang Yun was confident in her cooking, having learned from her mother at a young age.

"Aunt Hua, do you still have tofu? I want to buy some for lunch."

Aunt Hua’s tofu was partly sold by her husband in town and partly by herself in the village. When Zhang Cuilan and Jiang Yun arrived, several people were lined up to buy.

Unfortunately, among the crowd was Liu Guihua.

The feud between the Jiang and Gu families had become a public scandal. Jiang Yun had married without a single coin from Jiang family, and Liu Guihua’s long-held image of virtue was shattered.

Zhang Cuilan naturally showed no kindness to Liu Guihua, boldly standing in line with Jiang Yun; after all, the unjust party was not their family.

Since Jiang Yun left, the Jiang household had no servants. Liu Guihua had to do all the washing and cooking herself. Whenever displeased, she cursed Jiang Yun as ungrateful but dared not curse her openly for fear of Gu Chengwu’s retaliation. Unable to vent outside, she took her anger out on Jiang Shunde. There was constant strife.

Soon it was their turn. Aunt Hua held a knife over the tofu and asked, "Cuilan? How much do you want this time?"

"Three blocks. We’ve added a mouth to feed, so we must eat more," Zhang Cuilan replied, her face full of joy.

Tofu was not cheap or easy to produce—growing soybeans was hard, and the process of grinding and curdling took time. Aunt Hua’s tofu was famous across the region, five wen per block. Village households bought piece by piece, and young wives buying too much often got scolded by their mothers-in-law.

"Gu family’s life seems better now. When they first settled in Qingmiao Village, they couldn’t even afford meals."

"I think it’s just for show. Otherwise, why haven’t they built a thatched house and still live in a broken bamboo building?"

Jealousy at others’ prosperity was natural. Zhang Cuilan listened but did not mind; she knew their true circumstances.

By mid-morning, smoke curled from chimneys in Qingmiao Village. On a path beyond the green hills, Gu Chengwu rode home on horseback.