Volume One, Chapter Seven: The Young Master Bit His Tongue

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Yin Tiantian bought ten jin of pork ribs, along with a piece of lean meat and a piece of fat. She had arrived early today; the pig had just been slaughtered that morning and was still warm. She added firewood to the stove, first cutting the fatty meat into chunks to render the lard. After rendering, she scooped out the crispy bits and mixed them with chopped radish to make dumpling filling.

She scraped the last bit of flour from the dough container and kneaded the dough into wrappers. Meanwhile, she chopped two jin of bones and threw them into a pot to remove the unpleasant smell. She ladled out the water and saved it to feed the pigs.

She added fresh water to the pot along with Sichuan peppercorns, ginger, red dates, and salt, beginning to simmer the broth. These were the only spices they had at home—if only they had star anise, cinnamon, and bay leaves, the aroma would be even richer.

The remaining meat and bones were sprinkled with salt and set aside to cure for a couple of days. Once the wheat was dry and freshly milled flour was ready, she planned to make noodles and steamed buns.

The enticing aroma made the neighboring households drool with envy.

Next door, Wang Cuihua rinsed her mouth several times with water, but the lingering smell of chicken droppings nauseated her, causing her to vomit all morning.

For lunch, she made flatbreads, with her four eldest sons guarding the kitchen, though their minds were elsewhere.

“Mother, didn’t you say to send Ergou to the Shen family? Let him ask for some meat from next door—it’s not too much to ask!”

Wang Cuihua’s husband’s surname was Chen. Her four sons could eat a whole basin of flour at one meal. The grain harvested from their fields barely sufficed for their daily needs. The family often went hungry and had almost never tasted meat. Each of them craved it desperately.

Chen Dagou couldn’t hold back any longer and urged Ergou to go out.

“Take a flatbread and trade it for a bowl of meat soup. At least let me taste what meat tastes like!”

Ergou hung his head and refused. His pride was wounded the previous night, and now he was too ashamed to approach Yin Tiantian.

Wang Cuihua was also tempted, but recalling the stone that had struck her head the day before and the chicken droppings that had flown into her mouth that morning, she dared not act rashly.

“If they don’t want Ergou, then you, Dagou, go. No matter which of you brothers can get some meat from next door, I’ll support you!”

After thinking about the expenses of buying grain and meat, Wang Cuihua suspected that the Hou family must have left money for the Shen family. The Shen family had no land and was probably wealthier than hers. How could they afford to buy meat?

Chen Dagou was eager but hesitated.

“Mother, what if they take our bread but don’t give us any meat? What should we do then?”

“Then you go empty-handed!”

Chen Dagou still hesitated.

“I heard from Ergou that the son who returned to the Shen family is very fierce. What if we can’t beat him?”

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Wang Cuihua threw down the spatula, placed her hands on her hips, and scolded, “You four brothers—your mother is a widow, but do you think anyone in the village dares to bully our family? It’s because of the four of you! Why do you all turn cowardly the moment Yin Tiantian’s scoundrel shows up?”

“Get out of my sight! Don’t block my view!”

Furious, Wang Cuihua sent her four young men out of the kitchen, each grabbing a flatbread as they left.

Separated by only a wall, Yin Tiantian heard the quarrel next door and snorted. Trying to freeload? No chance!

In the Shen household courtyard, Shen’s father was sawing wood to repair the large gate. Chen Dagou and his brothers paced around nervously, not daring to enter.

The broth was fragrant. Yin Tiantian removed the bones and spices from the pot and added rice and millet.

When the porridge was nearly done, she returned the lean meat stripped from the bones to the pot, sliced scallions, and drizzled sesame oil.

“Time to eat!”

Yin Tiantian served the porridge and carried it indoors. Shen’s father inserted the repaired gate from the inside, washed his hands, and entered.

“Tiantian, where did our family get the money to buy meat?” Shen’s mother’s eyes were stinging from the steam, almost bringing tears. “You and Brother Heng should eat. Your father and I will just eat a little…”

Shen’s mother was thin to begin with, and after these hard days, her eyes had sunken. Shen’s father looked pale and weary.

Yin Tiantian served porridge for the couple.

“Father, mother, we will all eat. The young master has studied so hard in the capital. Once his leg heals, our lives will improve!”

“You mustn’t give in now!”

Shen’s mother was still thinking of Shen Fuzhu, tears falling down her cheeks.

“I don’t even know if Fuzhu can get used to life in the capital... Brother Heng, don’t be angry. Your father and I raised Fuzhu for eighteen years, but we never imagined he would become the heir of the Hou family. These past days feel like a dream!”

Shen’s father held his bowl and cursed, “When he ordered people to beat us, did he remember us? Why do you still think about him? He has food, clothing, and servants—why bother?”

“Instead of worrying about that ungrateful man, we should worry about you, Brother Heng. How did your leg get injured? Will it ever heal?”

Though Shen’s father spoke harshly, if he had no feelings for Shen Fuzhu, he wouldn’t have gotten so angry.

Yin Tiantian glanced subtly at Cui Heng. The Hou family had abandoned the severely injured young man to the countryside without care, while his birth parents worried about their foster son. Everyone thought he had enjoyed eighteen years of good fortune; no one saw his suffering.

Suddenly fallen from the heavens into the mire, yet still trying to hold the family together—he was truly the most tormented.

His face betrayed little emotion. Noticing her gaze, Cui Heng looked over.

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His eyes were unlike anyone else’s. Yin Tiantian’s heart skipped a beat as she picked up the empty bowl in front of him.

“I’ll go get another bowl for the young master!”

Cui Heng smiled wryly. She was usually so bold when looking at him—why so timid now?

After the meal, she fed the pigs with leftover food, chopped firewood, and carried water. She was busy all day, and by the time she finished, night was falling.

She lit a soybean oil lamp, rubbed lard on her hands, and took out the embroidery thread and cotton cloth she had bought, sitting under the lamp to embroider.

The light was dim. Cui Heng lengthened the lamp’s wick, brightening the room slightly.

Focused on her embroidery, Yin Tiantian did not notice. Glancing over, Cui Heng saw she was stitching a common pattern—magpies bringing good news—and her hands were skilled. In no time, the magpie perched on a plum blossom branch was complete.

The cloth was coarse, and the thread ordinary, but her work rivaled that of the Hou family’s professional embroiderers. Intrigued, Cui Heng shifted closer.

Yin Tiantian was engrossed in her work. When she finished the last stitch, she stretched and suddenly felt something was off.

Turning around, she realized her hand was resting on the young master’s soft chin, the prickly stubble tickling her palm. His deep, tender gaze was fixed on her.

“Y-Young master, I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were behind me!”

When had the young master moved behind her? Hadn’t he been writing across the room all this time?

Startled, Cui Heng bit his tongue when she pushed him. His mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood.

“Are you alright, young master?”

Panicked, Yin Tiantian stood up, knocking over the sewing basket and nearly falling off the kang bed. Cui Heng caught her with one hand and grabbed the basket with the other. Struggling to maintain his balance, the momentum caused Yin Tiantian to stumble back, knocking him down onto the kang.

The kang was covered with his neatly copied writings. His long hair spread over the papers. Due to the pain from his injury, his eyes misted over. When he looked at Yin Tiantian again, he had no idea how devastatingly handsome he appeared to her.

The scent of ink seemed to stir emotions. Yin Tiantian felt her mouth dry and swallowed involuntarily.

“Young master, you’re truly beautiful!”