Chapter 52

This really was impossible to talk her out of.
Li Qinghe thought for a moment and then suggested, “If it were someone else I could try talking to Mother, but not this. How about I talk to her and ask that this marriage be put off for a while?” Put it off, maybe she’ll lose the idea on her own.
Fifth sister nodded. “Thank you, Fourth sister-in-law. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have dared to say anything.”
Li Qinghe felt it necessary to correct the girl’s thinking. She took a steady tone. “Fifth sister, life isn’t as simple as marrying whoever seems reliable. You have to look at a man’s ability, he has to be able to support you. For example, if you fall ill he must be able to afford a doctor and medicine; if you get pregnant he must be able to buy eggs and meat... and the people already in his household matter too. The household can’t be crowded with people who have no sense of their situation...”
There was a lot more to say, and as Li listed it Fifth sister began to laugh. “Sister-in-law, at this rate I don’t think I’ll ever find someone to marry.”
Seeing her laugh, Li relaxed a little. “If you’re willing to give something up for him, you have to feel it’s worth it. To be blunt, your fourth brother is the same. By most standards he wasn’t the best match when we were courted, but I’m willing, because he’s worth it.”
Zhou Chengkang heard that as he reached the doorway, and a soft smile touched his lips.
Hearing the movement, Fifth sister turned and saw her brother return. She hurried to her feet. “I have to go. Forth Sister-in-law, I’ll ask you for the measurements tomorrow, I'll finish this pair and sew them for you.”
After Fifth sister left, Zhou Chengkang came in and put his arms around her. “Tell me again what you were saying just now,” he said. “I’d like to hear it.”
Their laughter carried through the door. Not yet out of earshot, Fifth sister looked back, thoughtful.
What mattered most, really, was that both hearts were in it.
Earlier, when Li Qinghe said she would go to the county town, she hadn’t been lying. The town’s restaurants didn’t use that much fish, and after several months they still hadn’t even used half. Once the pond fish grew larger, the last stretch of raising them wasn’t worth it, the feed still had to be bought, but the fish stopped growing much.
They found a time, spent the day hauling fish, and left the village at midnight without telling anyone, heading straight for the county town.
In both lifetimes Li Qinghe had never been to the county seat; Zhou Chengkang, however, had been a few times. By carriage it took a full day and night.
There was an official road from the market town to the county seat, and no talk of bandits nearby. Still, they dared not stop, if the fish sat in the dark too long they'd die, though they'd brought provisions. After a day and a night on the road they reached the county town before dawn. The gates were still closed, but a crowd had already gathered outside, mostly vegetable farmers waiting to go in and sell once morning came.
Carriages queued up, and when Li Qinghe, with the fish stowed inside, lifted the curtain, curious onlookers, catching sight of several tubs of fish, immediately asked, "How much for the fish?"
"Eighteen wen a catty," Li Qinghe said, town prices to the inns had been twelve wen; after hauling them so far they had to be pricier.
On hearing the price the man's eyes brightened and he pushed forward. "I'll take one," he said.
Not just him; several others nearby wanted to buy.
The two of them were taken aback, they hadn't expected to start selling before they'd even entered the gate.
By the time the farmers dispersed, thirty percent of the fish in the cart were gone. Li Qinghe lowered her voice. "Did we price ourselves too low?"
Zhou Chengkang shook his head. "I don't know. The pond where I used to help feed the fish is more than half the distance closer to the county town. I only helped for a few days, I don't know what they sell for there."
The fish seller from Liujia Village probably bought his stock nearer to there, not as far as the county town. If he'd sourced them from the county town itself they ought to be even more expensive.
Earlier, while they'd been selling, they'd learned of a place to sell the fish: a friendly middle-aged woman who offered to show them the way.
Since she was offering to guide them, Li Qinghe simply invited her up into the carriage.
The woman was talkative. "Your fish are cheaper than in town, two wen less a catty. If I didn't have trouble carrying it I'd buy one myself."
Li Qinghe smiled. "You helped us out. When we get there, I'll sell you one for fifteen wen."
At that the woman brightened. "You mean you'll keep your word?"
Li Qinghe adopted an air of generosity and waved her hand. "Absolutely."
The woman was delighted and rattled off a list of places in town where fish could be sold, where was busiest, how much they charged for stalls, then when they arrived she picked the biggest fish she could find, paid, and left in high spirits.
The county town was indeed bustling; before morning their small stock had all sold.
After the fish were gone they found an inn to sit in. Watching the lively crowd outside, Li Qinghe said with a smile and a low voice, "From now on, once our fish are grown we can bring them here. It's farther, yes, but they sell fast."
There was another reason: the fish seller in town was effectively a monopoly, and whenever they sold fish it inevitably cut into his trade. The look he gave them the last time they'd sold fish had been unpleasant. Li Qinghe understood this, which was why they hadn't set up a stall but instead delivered to the inns, though that affected him too, since the inns had previously taken his fish.
The place was small and had its drawbacks. This trip to town was meant as a test.
When they'd finished their meal they went for a walk. The county town's streets were wide, bustling with carts and ox-drawn wagons. People's dress varied too, some patched and worn, others in silk accompanied by retainers.
They went to the cloth shop. Li Qinghe bought some fabric, picked out fine embroidery thread for Yu Yan, and couldn't resist some pretty bowls and plates, things they would need for their new home.
Compared with the market town, prices here weren't cheaper, if anything slightly higher, but there was much more choice: fabrics in the hundreds of varieties, whereas the town only offered a few types.
Since they were already there and in no rush to return, they took rooms at an inn near the city gate, planning to stay one night and go back in daylight.
After two days spent with nothing but fish, they both smelled of fish. Zhou Chengkang gave the innkeeper some silver and asked for hot water to be brought up.
The water was brought by a young woman. When Li Qinghe glanced back she recognized the silhouette at once and exclaimed in surprise, "Wanwan?"
It was indeed Zhao Wanwan, clad in a dark coarse cloth dress, carrying a bucket which she was pouring into the bath. At the sound she slipped; the pail fell into the tub, and she scrambled to lift it back out.
Li Qinghe stepped forward to help and handed her a cloth to wipe her face. "What are you doing here?" she asked.
Zhao Wanwan looked her over, took a step back, and said, "I work here. Sister, what brings you here?"
"I'm here selling fish," Li Qinghe said. Seeing Wanwan's wet sleeve she pointed to it. "Your sleeve."
Zhao Wanwan set the bucket down and hurried to roll up her sleeve.
The girl looked worn; one could tell she wasn't well-off. Li Qinghe gave a faint sigh. "I heard your father came, did he find you?" she asked.
"My father? No." Zhao Wanwan looked puzzled. "I've never met him."
The two sisters stood in silence for a moment before Li Qinghe couldn't help asking, "What's going on? Didn't people say that being here would harm your brother-in-law's reputation?"
Zhao Wanwan hung her head and stared at the floor. "I live at the inn. I don't know him, and I rarely go out. Few in this county town know us, and even fewer know we're related. In the future... no one will know, either."
Matters between a husband and wife are not for Li Qinghe to meddle in; Zhao Wanwan worked here by choice, not under duress. After a pause she could only say, "I'm going home tomorrow. If you want to go back, I can take you with me."
"I'm not going back," Zhao Wanwan shook her head. "I have work to do, and I'll be scolded if the water's late." With that she turned and left.
Li Qinghe called after her a few times, but it was as if she didn't hear. Watching her disappear outside, Li Qinghe finally turned and went inside.
Later the woman who came in to collect the water was an old crone. When Li Qinghe asked her about the water-deliverer, the woman sighed, “That girl’s had a hard life, her parents are dead and her husband is gone. It’s tragic.”
Li Qinghe: “…” Madam Qian is perfectly fine at home; she’s only angry with Li Fu. If Zhao Tianfu said he’d come to look for her, then even if he didn’t turn up he must be all right. That stepfather Li Fu still eats well enough.
She hadn’t expected the girl to lie, to open her mouth and spin a sorrowful tale designed to tug at people’s pity.
Had she not known the truth, seeing the old woman’s face full of sympathy might have coaxed a tear out of her.
The next morning, bright and early, after they got their deposit back and went to hitch up the cart at the rear to leave, Zhao Wanwan suddenly appeared from nowhere. “Sister, please tell my mother I’m doing fine here, so she won’t worry. When I’m well, I’ll repay her properly.” As she spoke she handed over a bundle. “These are the clothes I made for her.”
Li Qinghe took the bundle, but when she looked up the girl had vanished. The inn had so many corridors you couldn’t tell which way she’d slipped.
They hitched the cart and left the inn without dawdling, heading straight for the city gate.
On the journey there the cart had been packed full of barrels; on the way back the barrels were stacked and the whole carriage was stuffed, bolts of cloth, bowls and plates, a jumble of things, even pastries from the county town.
They weren’t in a hurry on the return; the cart ambled along. In the afternoon it suddenly stopped.
Li Qinghe stuck her head out. “What’s wrong?”
Zhou Chengkang pointed ahead. “There’s a little dog on the road.”
No need for him to say more, Li Qinghe had already seen it: a dingy yellow pup by the roadside, whining, its hind leg bearing what looked like blood.
She straightened up. It seemed only its leg was hurt. Smiling, she said, “Didn’t you say you wanted a dog? Meeting one on the road is fate. Why don’t we take it home?”
Before she’d finished speaking she’d jumped down from the cart and ran off, excited, to see the “fated” dog.
Zhou Chengkang blinked, then smiled and shook his head. He too leapt down and asked, “Want some help?”
The pup’s hind leg was injured, the bone bent unnaturally. They couldn’t tell whether it had been beaten or run over by a cart.
Li Qinghe scooped it up and they climbed back into the cart. “Neither of us know how to set bones. We should find a doctor, right?”
Zhou Chengkang nodded. Leaving the pup at their side, he could just make out a village ahead. He checked the sky. “Why don’t we go into the village and see if there’s a doctor who knows how to set bones? And maybe find a place to stay.”
The nights they’d been sleeping out on the plains had been filled with wolves’ howls; they never dared sleep deeply. It would be far better to find lodging.