Chapter 47

When they got up, the household was still taking breakfast and the kitchen had just emptied; there were leftovers from yesterday’s guests. Zhou Chengkang saw this and smiled, “You go rest; I’ll cook.”
Mentioning cooking reminded Li Qinghe of when they weren’t yet married and Zhou Chengkang had promised he’d do the cooking after they married. She didn’t argue and turned back to the room.
Zhou Chengkang heated the food and brought it back to the room; everyone in the house saw him do it.
Looking at the food on the table, Li Qinghe teased with a smile, “Who was it who said he’d cook for me every day?”
“That was me,” Zhou Chengkang said, smiling as he handed her a steamed bun. “Sorry, I broke my promise. From now on I’ll try to cook for you.”
In truth, not many men were willing to step into the kitchen. Even Li Fu, who was devoted to Madam Qian, never insisted on her resting while he personally cooked; at most he’d just get the fire going for her.
As for the other households, don’t even mention them.
“A man in the kitchen cooking and taking care, what a blessing!” a sour tone rang through the yard; it was Zhang Haiyao, hanging a quilt out to dry.
The two exchanged a glance. Zhou Chengkang leaned close and said softly, “Ignore her; she’s jealous. Third brother isn’t as diligent as I am.”
Li Qinghe didn’t care, this was their life to live; let people talk if they wanted.
After eating, the two of them leisurely went to the pond to feed the fish. They’d been quite busy these past six months, and living far away was inconvenient. Of the dozens of chicks they’d bought earlier, half had died and half of the survivors were roosters; a few hens had just started laying.
When busy, they hardly tended to the chickens; they were penned in fallow land and foraged on their own. Sometimes they’d throw them some fish feed, but except when they were small they hadn’t paid much attention.
Holding an egg in his hand, Zhou Chengkang mused, “When we move over there, we’ll try harder.”
After feeding the chickens, they tidied the area around the new house, walked a lap, and the more they looked at it the happier they became, both eagerly pictured their life after moving in.
On their way back it should have been time to make lunch, but they’d eaten breakfast late and weren’t hungry yet. They happened to see Mrs. Zhou carrying a hoe to the backyard to plant vegetables; Zhou Chengkang whispered something to Li Qinghe and went to help his mother.
These past days of hiring help, Li Qinghe had weeded not only her own plot but also Mrs. Zhou’s and Eldest Brother’s; she even pulled some up over at Li Fu’s and brought them over.
Thinking of Li Fu, Li Qinghe remembered there were still dozens of steamed buns left in the kitchen that they couldn’t possibly eat themselves. She distributed some to each household and, with about twenty left, filled a basin and took some over to the Li family.
At the height of the sun the yard was empty. Li Qinghe pushed the door open and saw Li Fu lying asleep in the shade of the house; Madam Qian was nowhere to be seen. She set the steamed buns down in the kitchen and, planning to tell Li Fu, walked over, only to realize there were people in the room.
It was Madam Qian and her daughter Zhao Wanwan, sitting very close together. Qinghe had last seen Wanwan on the Dragon Boat Festival; Wanwan was a busy woman, helping at the inn, who went in every day unless she was bedridden. Missing work meant a wage cut, and people used to steady employment were loath to take time off. Qinghe had worked like that herself and hadn't taken a day in two years, so it wasn't surprising she hadn't been seen for a while.
She glanced around, intending to say hello to Madam Qian, and stepped in, only to see Zhao Wanwan leaning on Madam Qian and crying.
The mother and daughter looked up and saw Li Qinghe standing in the doorway.
An awkward silence followed.
They hadn't known the two were in tears; Li Qinghe stepped forward first. "Aunt Qian," she said, "I steamed too many buns yesterday and brought some over."
Madam Qian wiped her eyes. "Oh, keep them for yourself, no need to be so polite."
She'd said she had steamed too many, this wasn't politeness; it was clear Madam Qian's mind wasn't on the buns. Li Qinghe didn't plan to linger. "I put them in the kitchen. I have things to do at home, I'll be going."
No sooner had she turned than Zhao Wanwan called out behind her, voice breaking, "Sister."
Li Qinghe smiled. "Wanwan! I didn't even notice you were back."
It wasn't that she meant to be rude, Zhao Wanwan was so distraught and was avoiding Li Fu; as his daughter, Wanwan certainly didn't want her to see. Li Qinghe, perceptive as ever, decided to pretend she hadn't noticed and let it be.
Zhao Wanwan wiped her tears and spat, "Sister, that bastard, he actually took a concubine!"
Li Qinghe fell silent.
She didn't know what to say. After a moment she asked, "Is she a girl from the county town?"
"The one who sells rouge in town. When I was there she always gave me a discount; I thought she was just doing business. I didn't expect she'd have her eye on my man," Wanwan said, furious.
"How do you know?" Li Qinghe probed. "Could someone be talking nonsense?" Seeing is believing.
Wanwan's tears fell harder. "I hoped it was a mistake, but my uncle told me."
"Your uncle's back?" Li Qinghe asked, curious.
She couldn't quite believe it, someone who dabbled in every vice, who drank and gambled and frequented brothels, would have gone to the county town and thought to come home.
"My grandmother fell ill, that's why he came back," Wanwan hiccupped through her sobs. "She fell a few days ago, hurt her back, and has been bedridden."
Li Qinghe had heard something of it, nothing severe, but the old needed care. "Did you call a doctor?" she asked.
"We did," Madam Qian said. "They say she may never be able to stand again; she'll need constant care. My eldest brother's already back, her uncle must continue his studies, and my father is old, who in our family is left to look after her?" Saying it, she broke down again.
It was a difficult situation. Li Qinghe suggested, "Then you could go back each day to check on her..."
Before she finished, someone outside the yard cried, "Qian family's girl! Your mother has taken a turn, go see her at once!"
Madam Qian was stunned, momentarily forgetting to cry. Li Fu woke and rushed in. "She only hurt her back, she was fine when I checked yesterday. How could she be like this now?" Seeing her still weeping, he urged, "Hurry."
Only then did he notice Li Qinghe. Tentatively he asked, "Qinghe, could you go see too?"
Madam Qian had been part of the household for years; even if relations had cooled, if someone had truly died, it would be proper to go and see.
They hurried toward the Qian household; a trip that usually took half an hour was cut in half as they trotted the whole way.
Entering, they found Madam You and the rest, Qian Laiman's family, already there, along with others Li Qinghe didn't recognize, probably relatives and neighbors of the Qians. The yard was nearly full.
Madam Qian went straight for the side room; Li Qinghe cast a glance. A ring of people knelt by the bedside, sobbing. No doctor, no one leaning over the bed, this was surely death; if the woman were still alive, someone would be beside her.
Voices in the yard murmured, "Wasn't it just a back injury? How did she end up like this?"
Someone nearby answered, "Who knows? At that age it's hard to be certain."
"Who found her?" someone else asked.
After listening for a while, Li Qinghe learned that Old Man Qian had gone to the back yard to tend the vegetables; Madam You had come to bring a meal, put it through the door, and found the woman gone. No one else was in the house.
What about Qian Laiwen?
Not only Li Qinghe was curious, everyone in the yard was, and as they talked they saw Qian Laiwen return carrying pastries. He looked surprised at the crowd.
"Where have you been? Your mother is gone, go in and see!" people urged him. "Mother, your son went to buy you pastries, how could you not even eat one bite?" they sobbed, unbearably sad.
She was gone; next came the funeral rites. Li Qinghe went for two days to offer her condolences and the customary funeral gifts.
A village funeral was, after all, ordinary; though some muttered privately about the old woman's death, no one pressed the matter. After the rites were over, word was that Zhao Wanwan and Qian Laiwen had gone to the county town together.
Meanwhile Li Qinghe resumed hauling fish with Zhou Chengkang to sell. Business wasn't as good as at New Year, after a couple of days they hadn't sold even a third, so she decided to supply several inns in town directly, delivering once every ten days by order. She charged a bit less, twelve wen per jin, and bought fry to restock the pond.
With money in hand, the two of them went to town to measure the rooms and order furniture. Zhou Chengkang built a stove and they bought pots, bowls and pans. Once the furniture arrived, the house would be ready to live in.
Now there was still some time before the autumn harvest, but the couple hadn’t been idle, they began going up the mountain to cut firewood. Once winter came and they moved into the new house, apart from the leftover scraps from building it, they wouldn’t have much wood left.
For a peasant household, no amount of firewood feels like enough. When they moved in they’d have to host a housewarming feast; a single celebration would burn through a lot of wood.
Mrs. Zhou wouldn’t help prepare the firewood. Even if she had wanted to, Li Qinghe didn’t want her to, if Mrs. Zhou provided wood this time, she’d be expected to help for every brother’s celebration after that. With several sons already married, being expected to attend to every little detail would be exhausting.
So it was best not to start that precedent in the first place.
The two of them went up the mountain to cut wood every day. As autumn drew near, many people were out cutting wood; once harvest began they’d be delayed for a month or so, and after that the weather wouldn’t be so good.
There were companions for chopping too, for example, Li Qingmiao often went with them. The two of them made the trip up the mountain and back each day. Among the Zhou sisters-in-law, Qingmiao was the most capable when it came to work.
She carried a bundle of wood and rushed down the hill; compared with her, Li Qinghe was far slower. Not only was the bundle she carried a size smaller, but she also couldn’t keep up with Qingmiao’s pace. She finally couldn’t help it and called, "Qingmiao, slow down."
Qingmiao ignored her and moved so quickly she was out of sight in an instant. Li Qinghe sighed and rounded a small rise, only to see Qingmiao sitting on the ground where she’d fallen, unable to get up, the bundle of wood rolled to one side.
She hurried forward. "What’s the matter?"
Qingmiao clutched her stomach, her face contorted with pain. "Qinghe, my stomach hurts."
Li Qinghe frowned, Qingmiao liked to tease, so she couldn’t help asking, "Don’t joke. Can you move?"
It was strange, a girl from a farming household falling down and not being able to get up? That seemed too delicate.
Qingmiao tried to move but went pale, her forehead slick with sweat, whether from pain or fever Li Qinghe couldn’t tell. Li Qinghe helped her to her feet but Qingmiao shook her head. "No, it’s too painful."
Seeing that, Li Qinghe bent, gritted her teeth, and hoisted her onto her back. "Hurry, we’ll go find the doctor."