Qiu-ger entered the kitchen with his umbrella. Song Ning’s eyes lit up as he looked at Qiu-ger. Since arriving in Daliushu village, he hadn’t met anyone his own age. He was delighted someone had come to play with him.

Song Ning hurriedly pulled out a stool. “Qiu-ger, sit down.”

“Ning-ger, you were washing dishes.”

“Just finished.”

Qiu-ger wasn’t one to be overly formal. This was his first time at the Wei household, and as he sat in the kitchen, he glanced around several times. Hu-zi’s family’s kitchen was tidier than his own.

Qiu-ger’s basket held about ten bright red persimmons, topped by his embroidered basket. He took out the persimmons, “We have a persimmon tree in our yard that bears so many fruits. I picked these yesterday. Try one.”

Seeing that someone had brought him a gift, Song Ning felt quite pleased. Though he and Qiu-ger had only met a couple of times, he genuinely liked the boy. 

“Thank you.” Qiu-ger laughed. “Is everyone in your town this polite? You don’t have to keep saying thank you all the time.”

Song Ning smiled too, cupping a persimmon the size of a baby’s fist to his lips. “So sweet!”

“Right? I think they’re delicious too.” While chatting with Song Ning, Qiu-ger began embroidering flowers. These persimmons were sweet. The Sun family had only one persimmon tree, and this year it bore an especially heavy crop. He was constantly shooing away birds, afraid they’d eat his fruit.

The tree hung heavy with crimson fruit, drawing village children who often came to peek. Qiu-ger would pick some for them to eat, but his stingy grandmother, Granny Sun, couldn’t bear to share. Whenever children approached, she’d call them greedy. 

Neighbors, hearing this, forbade their children from playing at his house. Qiu-ger disliked it too—his persimmons weren’t anything special. Country kids had little to eat; what was wrong with craving a sweet persimmon?

Qiu-ger grew up in the village. As a child, he too had coveted the persimmons, jujubes, and pears in other people’s yards. What harm was there in giving a few to the neighborhood kids? Was it really worth alienating the entire neighborhood over a handful of persimmons?

Yesterday, he’d picked some to bring to Song Ning, but his mother-in-law found out and started grumbling again. Qiu-ger snapped back, “Then you just eat more, Mother. Once you’re done, I won’t give any away.”

He didn’t repeat this to Song Ning, so he wouldn’t feel uneasy eating his family’s persimmons.

Song Ning took a bite and loved it. “Qiu-ger, your persimmons are so sweet.”

“If you like them, I’ll pick more for you another day. Winter’s coming soon, and if we don’t pick all the persimmons from the tree, they’ll freeze and rot.” 

Song Ning’s eyes crinkled. “Thank you.”

Qiu-ger drew out a drawn-out sound. “Look at you, always saying thank you. If you keep this up, I won’t play with you anymore.”

“Fine, then I won’t thank you.” Song Ning nudged Qiu-ger as they talked, their legs still warmed by the unburned charcoal brazier beside them. Stretching his neck to look, Song Ning remarked, “Qiu-ger, you can embroider too.”

“Yeah. I save them up and sell them in town for a few coins.” Song Ning’s eyes widened. “Qiu-ger, you’re so talented! You can even earn money for your family.”

“No choice. Our land is scarce, and we’re poor. I have to find ways to help out.” Qiu-ger showed Song Ning his embroidery frame. “But mine isn’t as good as others’. They won’t pay much for it. They say my flowers aren’t trendy, no originality. Besides flowers and grass, what else could I embroider? A celestial maiden?” 

Song Ning smiled. “They look quite nice to me.”

Qiu-ger puckered his lips. “Who knows? They just don’t fetch a good price. I work my fingers to the bone embroidering a handkerchief and only get eight wen for it. My plain cloth costs four or five wen alone. It’s just hard-earned pocket money.”

“Still, you’re better than me. I can’t embroider at all.” Song Ning genuinely thought Qiu-ger was more capable than him. The ger could earn copper coins for his family, while he not only couldn’t contribute but had already spent several taels of silver just arriving.

Just as Song Ning was about to offer to sketch some trendy floral designs for Qiu-ger, Chen Cuihua arrived carrying a small basket filled with roasted peanuts, dried longan, and other snacks. “Qiu-ger’s here! You and Ning-ger can play in this room—it’s warmer.”

“Ah, Sister Cuihua, come chat with us! With this rainy weather, you don’t need to be out working. Just rest.”

“It’s getting cold, so I’m making a quilted jacket for Ning-ger. You two youngsters just play.” Chen Cuihua left after offering some snacks. Her family had a poor reputation in the village, so few people visited. She was quite pleased that Qiu-ger had come by today. 

Ever since Ning-ger arrived at their home, their courtyard had gradually become livelier. As soon as Chen Cuihua left, Qiu-ger said to Ning-ger, “Your mother-in-law is so kind to you, even making you a quilted jacket. My mother-in-law never makes me anything. She won’t even sew my clothes.” Song Ning felt a bit embarrassed. “I’m too clumsy. I don’t know how to sew.”

Qiu-ger gasped, “You don’t know how to sew?!”

Song Ning blushed slightly and nodded. “I… I never learned.”

Qiu-ger comforted him, “It’s fine. Aunt Cuihua is kind. If you can’t do it, she’ll make it for you.”

Qiu-ger set down his embroidery hoop and nibbled on some snacks. “Aunt Cuihua really is kind. Unlike my mother-in-law, who won’t even give visitors a single bite of her food when they come over.”

Qiu-ger was an easygoing sort, and Song Ning enjoyed chatting with him. Sitting together, they quickly became close. The more they talked, the more Qiu-ger liked Song Ning. He didn’t seem like the troublesome wives and husbands he was used to—gentle-natured and, what’s more, pretty!

He liked playing with pretty people!

“Oh my! I’m actually a year older than you! From now on, if anyone in the village bullies you, I’ll help you fight back!“

Song Ning chuckled. ”But cursing isn’t very nice, is it?“

Qiu-ger patted his little chest. ”Don’t worry. Some people just won’t feel right unless you curse them. Trust me, I’ve got a sharp tongue. Back at my parents’ place, no one dared mess with me.”

The two huddled together, giggling so loudly that even Wei Hu and the others in the main hall heard every word. Chen Cuihua was delighted too—her family had endured so much hardship lately, and laughter like this hadn’t been heard in ages.

By afternoon’s end, Song Ning and Qiu-ger had become close confidants, sharing everything. Outside, the rain had ceased, and the charcoal fire between their legs had died out, yet their warmth burned brighter than ever.

Having been raised in the town, pampered since childhood, Song Ning knew little about rural life. Having lost his mother at a young age, he had never been taught the ways of mother-in-law and daughter-in-law relations.

After a moment’s hesitation, Song Ning tugged at Qiu-ger’s sleeve and whispered, “Qiu-ger, do you know how to cook?”

Qiu-ger nodded eagerly. “Sure, why?”

Song Ning shushed him. “Keep your voice down.”

Qiu-ger’s eyes widened. “No way! Ning-ger, you can’t cook?”

Song Ning nodded sheepishly. Qiu-ger looked utterly astonished. “Then who’s been cooking for your family all this time?”

The two leaned close, whispering rapidly.

“My mom or Brother Wei Hu did it. Today, my mom had me cook, but Brother Wei Hu helped me.”

Qiu-ger couldn’t hide his shock. “I’ve never heard of anyone not knowing how to cook! I was cooking on a stool when I was six or seven. When I got older, I even helped harvest rice. My mom also taught me embroidery and sewing.”

“You… how did you learn all that?”

Not only was Qiu-ger shocked, but Song Ning was stunned too. Others knew so much, while he knew nothing.

“In the countryside, not everyone knows embroidery, but cooking over a fire? Everyone does it except men.” Qiu-ger grabbed Song Ning’s hand. “Does your mother know about this?”

Song Ning shook his head.

“Don’t let your mother find out. I’ve heard Aunt Cuihua is a strong-willed woman. If she dislikes you, it won’t be good. And don’t let outsiders know either, or they’ll laugh at you.”

“Is it… that serious?”

“Oh yes. There was a girl in our village—her parents’ only child, born late in life, with two older sisters. As a child, she was never allowed to do any chores and was spoiled rotten. By fifteen or sixteen, she couldn’t do a single thing: mending clothes, cooking, chopping wood, or working in the fields.”

“When it came time for matchmaking, suitors rejected her because she couldn’t do any work. Who would marry her if she needed her mother-in-law to wait on her hand and foot? She ended up an old maid, only to marry into a family as a stepmother.“

Song Ning was startled. ”Is it really that serious?”

According to Qiu-ger, someone like him would be unmarriageable in the countryside—not only unable to marry but also ridiculed. Song Ning felt rather disheartened.

Qiu-ger took his hand. “You bet. They say a wife endures ten years of hardship to become a mother-in-law. But in every family, doesn’t the husband have to serve his mother-in-law after marrying? That’s how it was for me at the Sun household, too. Not just three meals a day—I had to get up early to gather firewood and cut grass, and help wash clothes too.”

“Then… what about Brother Sun?”

“What man does that kind of work? Men do farm labor or find odd jobs. If a man did this kind of work, he’d be laughed at.”

Song Ning’s eyes welled up with fear. “Qiu… Qiu-ger, what should I do? I don’t know how to do any of that.”

“Don’t cry, don’t cry. I’ll teach you. Just don’t let your mother find out you don’t know how.”

Song Ning nodded earnestly. “I understand.”

Qiu-ger sighed. “Brother Hu-zi is truly kind to you, covering for you and doing your chores.”

Song Ning swallowed back her tears. “I… I’ll learn diligently.”

Only after talking with Qiu-ger did Song Ning realize how serious it was that he didn’t know these things. If he couldn’t do any work, he’d become the lazy good-for-nothing everyone talked about. When people laughed at him, he wouldn’t be able to hold his head up in the village.

The two were huddled together in the kitchen, heads pressed together, discussing a plan, when they heard someone calling from the doorway, “Qiu-ger! Qiu-ger! Are you here?”

Qiu-ger poked his head out. “What is it, Auntie?”

It was the neighborly Auntie. “Finally found you! Hurry home—your mother’s in terrible pain, and Dazhuang isn’t home right now. You need to go check on her.”

“Got it!”

Qiu-ger hurriedly gathered his things and left. “Ning-ger, I’m heading home now. We’ll play another day.”

The rain had stopped by then, and Chen Cuihua came out. “Hu-zi, go check on her. If the pain gets worse, we’ll need to see the doctor.”

“Okay.”

Wei Hu set down his tools and headed toward the Sun household. Song Ning followed him. “Wei Hu, I’ll come too.”

Seeing Song Ning go, Chen Cuihua followed as well. “I’ll come too.”