Song Ning heard there were sweet potatoes and pumpkins in the backyard, which piqued his interest. He followed Wei Hu out to the back.

It was his first time in the backyard. Just two days ago, he’d seen Wei Hu bring the deer back there. Today, he was surprised to find the backyard was so large.

There was a thatched shed in the back, storing some farming tools. Wei Hu said, “The backyard is for raising chickens and livestock. We haven’t had time to tidy it up these past years, so it’s just been left empty. Hei Dou and Hua Dou sleep back here during the winter.”

Wei Hu bent down and lifted a wooden plank. Song Ning peered in curiously. Inside the cellar, which was taller than a person, sweet potatoes, winter melons, pumpkins, and even a good amount of Chinese cabbage were neatly stacked.

“Why store everything underground?”

“It gets bitterly cold in winter. If we didn’t keep them in the cellar, the vegetables would freeze solid and be ruined.”

“Oh, I see. I never knew that before.”

Wei Hu climbed down the wooden ladder, hauling up a basket full of sweet potatoes topped with a large pumpkin. Song Ning stood on the ladder, straining to lift it up with both hands.

“Brother Wei Hu, when we visit my in-laws tomorrow, could we bring some sweet potatoes for Granny Zhang? She’s the housekeeper at my family’s place. I’d like to give her some—she loves them.”

“Sure.”

Wei Hu climbed back up, carrying the basket to the front. He washed several sweet potatoes, sliced the pumpkin, and placed them in the pot to steam.

When Chen Cuihua returned, she saw the young couple bustling about together. A look of satisfaction spread across her face—her son clearly adored Ning-ger.

Breakfast consisted of rice porridge, steamed sweet potatoes and pumpkin, plus a plate of pickled vegetables—quite a hearty meal. Song Ning ate a whole sweet potato and half a piece of pumpkin, savoring their sweetness.

Seeing Song Ning finally eat more today, Chen Cuihua pushed another piece of pumpkin toward him. “If Ning-ger likes it, eat more. It’s all homegrown—nothing fancy.”

“Mother, this is so sweet!”

Chen Cuihua beamed proudly. “What your mother grows is bigger and sweeter than anyone else’s.”

“Mother, you’re amazing!” Song Ning couldn’t help but praise her.

Chen Cuihua beamed with pride. This little ger sure knew how to talk. “Eat some more.”

Song Ning loved sweets and easily overate. After finishing his meal, he insisted on washing the bowls. Look, he could wash dishes!

With nothing much to do today, the three sat in the courtyard weaving baskets. Chen Cuihua brought up tomorrow’s return visit to her in-laws. “Your sister is also going back tomorrow. We can’t let our gifts be outdone. I’ll go to the village later and buy a basket of eggs and a chicken.”

Song Ning recalled his days at the Song household. His stepmother, Wu Cai’e, had never spared him these delicacies. He didn’t want to send gifts to his stepmother. “Mother, I don’t want to give her anything.”

“I know you dislike her, but proper etiquette must be observed. Bringing too little won’t just upset your birth family; the villagers will gossip if they see it.”

Song Ning snorted under his breath, his lips curling into a pout without him even noticing.

Wei Hu, seated across from him, noticed it. This ger seemed to be adapting to this life more and more each day.

Chen Cuihua bustled about the house for a while before heading out to buy supplies. While every rural household had hens, as winter approached, the chickens stopped laying eggs. Eggs had skyrocketed to five wen each, and an old hen cost forty wen.

Carrying her basket, Chen Cuihua asked around and bought some eggs and an old hen.

With winter approaching, most households had few eggs left. Though reluctant to part with them for their own consumption, they were eager to sell. Chen Cuihua quickly gathered her eggs and the hen.

“Cuihua, buying so much? Is Ning-ger coming back tomorrow?”

Chen Cuihua beamed. “Indeed! I’m taking these back for Ning-ger’s home visit.”

As Chen Cuihua walked away with her purchases, the Fulang who’d sold her eggs remarked, “Auntie Cuihua’s bringing back quite the generous gift—that whole basket of eggs is no small thing.”

“They say this ger comes from a wealthy family in town. Town folk are well-off, so bringing too little would make them look down on us.”

“True enough. But Auntie Cuihua sure is generous.”

Chickens and eggs—even our own family wouldn’t splurge on those. To bring so many as a return gift… Around here, bringing a chicken and some wine is considered a generous gift for a return visit. If you’re short on cash, bringing some roasted nuts or dried fruits is perfectly acceptable.

Chen Cuihua had gone out shopping, leaving only Song Ning and Wei Hu in the courtyard. The ger was still trimming the side branches with a sullen expression.

“You don’t want to give your stepmother anything?” Wei Hu asked.

“No. After my dad died, she wouldn’t even give me an egg to eat. When she stewed chicken, she didn’t call me over. I don’t want her to eat it.”

Song Ning looked up at Wei Hu. “Brother Wei Hu, can we just not give her anything? We don’t eat her food anyway.”

The ger’s lips were slightly pouted. When he looked at Wei Hu, his eyes were filled with pleading, his voice soft and sweet. Wei Hu cleared his throat and looked away. Why was this ger suddenly acting so spoiled?

“No way. People will laugh at us.”

“Fine.”

“You mentioned an old lady who looked after you. How about we go see her?”

Song Ning’s eyes lit up. “Really?!”

“Mhm. Don’t tell Mother.”

Song Ning nodded like a chick pecking at grain. “Got it, got it. Brother Wei Hu, you’re the best.”

Before long, Chen Cuihua returned carrying a basket of eggs and an old hen. The basket was so full of eggs that they were spilling over the sides. Her face beamed with joy. “I bought extra eggs today. We’ll keep some for ourselves and give Ning-ger some to help him get stronger. Look how pale his little face is.”

Song Ning smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re such a kid, always saying ‘thanks.’ We’re family, after all.”

Chen Cuihua carried the basket to the kitchen, setting aside the larger eggs in the wooden cupboard. Back when they were poor, her family couldn’t even afford to raise chickens, let alone eat eggs. Chen Cuihua had always been too frugal to splurge.

Now that Wei Hu had married a Fulang, Chen Cuihua felt at ease. Life couldn’t stay as tight as before. That poor boy Song Ning had suffered in the Song household. These eggs would help him build up his strength. If he grew strong, she might even get to hold a grandchild someday.

The more Chen Cuihua thought about it, the more hopeful she felt about the future. With an extra person in the house, it wouldn’t feel so lonely anymore. And once they had children, things would surely become even livelier.

Chen Cuihua emerged from the kitchen with a broad smile. Seeing Song Ning still wearing the same long robe he’d arrived in, she gasped, “Look at your mother’s memory—I completely forgot to make you a new outfit!”

“Mother, it’s fine. I still have another set of clothes.”

“That won’t do! I already cut out fabric for two outfits. I’ll hurry and make you one now so you can wear it back to your maternal home tomorrow. Another day, I’ll cut out fabric for a jacket for you.”

Chen Cuihua grumbled about her forgetfulness, then hurried off to fetch the fabric to make Song Ning a new outfit.

Chen Cuihua felt her family was always the subject of village gossip. Tomorrow was Ning-ger’s return visit to his parents’ home. Though she hadn’t prepared a banquet for the two children, she was determined to send Ning-ger off in style tomorrow.

Originally, she’d cut two sets of fabric for Song Ning’s winter clothes. Now she’d make a single robe instead. Though it wouldn’t last long, it could still be worn in spring and autumn. She’d just cut another set of fabric later.

Chen Cuihua was remarkably efficient in her work. She kept every corner of the house spotless—vegetables in the cellar were neatly arranged, and even the firewood in the kitchen shed was stacked in perfect order. She truly was a master at her tasks.

Now she was bustling about, busy sewing clothes for Song Ning.

Song Ning’s eyes crinkled. “Mother’s so kind.”

Chen Cuihua took a piece of blue fabric and began cutting it in the courtyard. She called out to Song Ning again, “Ning-ger, stop fiddling with that twig. Come here, Mother will measure you.”

“Aye.” Song Ning answered and went over.

Chen Cuihua couldn’t read, nor did she use a tape measure like the town tailors. Unfamiliar with such tools, she simply measured Song Ning’s arms and waist with her hands.

When she reached his waist, Chen Cuihua clicked her tongue. “Ning-ger, look how thin your waist is. You really need to eat more. Just look at how skinny you’ve become.”

“Mother, I’ve always been this thin.”

“Nonsense! No one’s naturally that thin. Eat properly from now on—don’t nibble like a cat.”

Within just a few days, Song Ning had shed his initial shyness and spoken more fluently. He grew quite fond of this family, though his only frustration was feeling too clumsy to help with anything.

Chen Cuihua quickly measured Song Ning’s dimensions, then got busy with scissors in hand. Song Ning went to stand beside Wei Hu to help him cut vines.

Just then, the young ger came over and pulled out a chair. Wei Hu shifted aside to make room, which made Song Ning a bit unhappy. Brother Wei Hu really didn’t like him. He’d been so scared last night, and Brother Wei Hu hadn’t even hugged him.

Chen Cuihua worked through the night to finish Song Ning’s new clothes, even making a set of undergarments. Early the next morning, she urged him to try them on to see if they fit. Song Ning took the clothes into the room to change.

Wearing his new clothes, Song Ning twirled around. He hadn’t had new clothes made in a year. When his father was alive, he’d get two new outfits annually. After his father passed, his stepmother stopped making him new clothes. His old ones had all been taken away and given away—he’d heard they were given to Zhao Qingshu.

The new outfit fit perfectly, the fabric even softer than the one he’d just taken off. Song Ning scampered out to find Wei Hu. “Brother Wei Hu, do you think it looks good?”

Song Ning twirled around to show Wei Hu. Wei Hu’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he replied in a slightly hoarse voice, “It looks good.”

The boy was naturally fair-skinned, and the blue sash tied at the waist of his robe made him appear even paler, tender, and delicate like a spring bamboo shoot after March rains, or a beautiful pearl.

Chen Cuihua couldn’t stop praising him, “Our Ning-ger is so well-born, he looks good in anything.”

Song Ning blushed shyly.

Chen Cuihua had already prepared everything. The basket holding the eggs was tied with red string, the old hen’s legs were bound with red string, and a jar of wine was secured with a straw rope.

“All set. Come back after your meal. Come on, I’ll walk you to the village entrance.”