Song Ning closed his book and got up to put it away in the main hall. Just as he stepped out, he saw Wei Hu returning with two hunting dogs. Song Ning’s eyes lit up. “Brother Wei Hu, you’re back!”

“Back. What’s Mother up to? I could smell the meat from a mile away.”

Chen Cuihua poked her head out from the kitchen and chattered away, “Our Ning-ger has made something of himself! The first thing he thought of with his copper coins was Huzi and his mom.”

Flattered and a bit embarrassed, Song Ning asked, “Brother Wei Hu, what did you catch today?”

“Caught a whole nest of bamboo rats. Nothing fancy, really.”

It was Song Ning’s first time seeing bamboo rats. They looked like mice but weren’t quite the same, each one plump and round. Chen Cuihua looked over, too. “There are quite a few in this litter.”

Wei Hu placed the seven or eight bamboo rats in a cage to keep them. These small catches weren’t worth making a trip to town for; he’d save them up and sell them all together later.

Song Ning followed Wei Hu around like a little shadow. Wei Hu smiled and praised Song Ning a couple of times for being so capable, and only then did Song Ning stop trailing after him.

Chen Cuihua called out from ahead, “Huzi, get some garlic shoots for your mother!”

“Got it.”

Wei Hu lifted the straw and jumped down. Song Ning peered over his shoulder. “Wow, they’re already this tall!”

“They’ll grow even taller. They’re only halfway there now.”

The garlic shoots in the pit were already two bundles tall and still growing. A sea of tender yellow, they were a rare fresh vegetable in winter.

Wei Hu picked some and handed them to Song Ning, standing above. Song Ning took them straight to Chen Cuihua. His mother said she was making stir-fried garlic shoots with pig’s blood—a dish he’d never tasted before. His mother was a great cook; this dish was sure to be delicious.

Chen Cuihua brought a basin of marrow bone soup from the kitchen, a large bone still floating inside. The broth glistened with flavor, infused with chunks of radish, red dates, and goji berries.

“Take this to Qiu-ger. He helped our family find a way to earn some copper coins.”

Chen Cuihua was a level-headed woman. Though she disliked Granny Sun, both Dazhuang and Qiu-ger were decent fellows. There was no need to take out her frustration on others over one troublesome old woman.

Qiu-ger had even sent some paper to their Ning-ger today—a thoughtful gesture.

Song Ning carried the soup basin and cheerfully replied, “I’ll go right now.”

It was just dinnertime, and Qiu-ger’s family was probably cooking too. Perfect timing to let him taste this soup—it smelled delicious.

As Song Ning carried the soup past Li Guifen’s house, he recalled hearing the Li family arguing in their courtyard earlier. Glancing over now, he saw Li Guifen squatting in the yard, plucking chicken feathers, muttering curses under her breath.

Song Ning had overheard the gist of it at home—nothing more than a child craving meat. He hadn’t expected that after a bit of commotion, the Li family would end up slaughtering a chicken.

Song Ning reached the Sun family’s door in a few strides. He didn’t go inside but called out twice from the doorway, “Qiu-ger, Qiu-ger.”

Qiu-ger heard the voice and came out. Spotting Song Ning, he hurried over. “Ning-ger, you’re here!”

“My mother stewed some pork bone soup and asked me to bring you some.”

This piece of pork bone still had quite a bit of meat on it. Chen Cuihua had specifically asked the butcher to leave the meat on when she bought it. Qiu-ger let out a surprised “Ah! This is too much, I’m embarrassed. Please thank Aunt Cuihua for me.”

Qiu-ger carried the bowl into the kitchen, washed it clean, and brought it back out. Song Ning took it. “I’ll head home now.”

“Alright.”

Qiu-ger was quite pleased with his large bowl of pork bone soup. He’d thought Aunt Cuihua no longer liked him, but she’d still sent him soup.

Granny Sun had also spotted Song Ning from the window. Only after he left did she dare speak up. “Qiu-ger, what was Song Ning doing here?”

“She brought us pork bone soup,” Qiu-ger replied, sounding annoyed.

“She only brought you a bowl of bone soup? I saw Chen Cuihua cutting meat quite generously today. That’s too stingy—she wouldn’t even spare some meat to send you.”

Qiu-ger had been present when Song Ning offered to use his hard-earned copper coins to buy meat. He knew exactly what had happened. The girl had kindly brought bone broth, yet his mother didn’t appreciate her kindness and instead complained about the meager offering.

“Mother, if the bone broth is too little, just don’t drink it.”

“Pah! Like I care about Chen Cuihua’s bone broth!”

Qiu-ger snorted. Cuihua should give a good scolding to teach her a lesson. But he kept his thoughts to himself—after all, she was Dazhuang’s mother. Speaking such things in front of him wouldn’t do. He wasn’t stupid.

His family rarely ate meat either. Everything—firewood, rice, oil, salt, clothes, daily necessities—costs copper coins. Dazhuang occasionally helped people build houses or did odd jobs, but winter had slowed things down. Today was a rare treat to savor the taste of meat.

There were still some pickled mustard greens left at home. Qiu-ger scooped them out and simmered them in the bone broth to make a sour mustard greens and pork bone soup. He warmed up a few multigrain steamed buns, and dinner was ready—actually a bit earlier than Song Ning’s family had theirs.

The pot of stewed pickled cabbage smelled heavenly. Qiu-ger even gave Sun Dazhuang a few copper coins to buy some frozen tofu, which they added to the stew, making it taste even better.

This large steaming bowl was perfect for warming the body in winter. Granny Sun was the first to sit down at the table, as if she hadn’t just said anything foolish. She saw the bowl full of bones with plenty of meat still clinging to them!

Before Granny Sun could move, Qiu-ger scooped the meat off the top. The large bones had simmered for ages and came off effortlessly. “Mother, Ning-ger gave this to me. You said you weren’t eating it.”

Watching the meat vanish, Granny Sun grew impatient. Without a second thought, she grabbed the bone and plopped it into her own bowl. Qiu-ger looked slightly disgusted, but at least her hand hadn’t touched the soup—she really didn’t care about manners.

Anyway, he’d already picked most of the meat clean. He ladled some broth into his bowl, took a big slurp, and only then shared the meat in his bowl with Sun Dazhuang. This was meat he’d already eaten—no matter how filial Sun Dazhuang was, he wouldn’t give it to Granny Sun.

Qiu-ger ate with satisfaction. Aunt Cuihua’s cooking was simply delicious. No wonder she looked down on Ning-ger’s mushy cooking skills. It smelled irresistible, and the frozen tofu inside, soaked through with broth, was the best part.

Granny Sun grabbed a bone and began gnawing. She scraped every last bit of meat clean off before sucking on the marrow inside. The heat made her yelp, “Ouch!” She opened her mouth wide to suck in several cool breaths, then slurred, “Chen… Chen Cuihua… tricked me!”

Qiu-ger saw several large blisters on her tongue and nearly laughed out loud. Now he’d see how she dared gossip about others.

The bone marrow was scalding hot, and Granny Sun got badly burned. Even the frozen tofu inside was too hot for her to eat, making her so angry she started cursing again with her tongue hanging out.

Qiu-ger nudged Sun Dazhuang with his elbow. “Keep your mother in line. She burned her tongue and still won’t behave.”

“Mom, we’re eating. Cut the cursing.”

“Forget it. I’ll just take this to the kitchen to eat. It’s quieter there.”

Qiu-ger took the bowl and headed straight for the kitchen without another word. Sun Dazhuang followed him up. He couldn’t stand his mother’s behavior either, but he had no choice. If she went out, she’d gossip and spread rumors, which had caused him no end of trouble.

The two headed to the kitchen to eat, leaving Granny Sun even more furious. Slurring her words, she launched into a tirade, this time cursing not just Qiu-ger but Sun Dazhuang too—though it was hard to make out the specifics.

Qiu-ger sipped a bowl of tangy pork bone soup, feeling perfectly content. He couldn’t care less about the commotion.

Thankfully, his Dazhuang was a sensible man. Otherwise, life would be unbearable.

Not long after returning, Song Ning also sat down to eat. The table was laden with glistening braised pork, stir-fried garlic shoots with pig’s blood, radish and pork bone soup, and a plate of lotus leaf cakes as big as a palm.

The table was laden with meat dishes—a rare feast even for the Wei household. Chen Cuihua beamed with delight. “All thanks to Ning-ger today! Quick, eat up! Try Mother’s braised pork, Ning-ger—it’s absolutely delicious!”

“Alright.”

Song Ning scooped some braised pork onto a lotus leaf pancake. The first bite was so fragrant it was almost overwhelming. “Mom, your cooking is amazing!”

“Of course it is. Back then, Wei Hu’s father fell for my cooking.”

Song Ning accidentally ate until he was stuffed—his mother’s cooking was simply too delicious. He circled the courtyard a few times while holding the little calico cat before going inside.

Even the family dogs got a big bone today, happily gnawing away in their beds.

The Wei family of three was all hardworking souls. Even when Chen Cuihua wasn’t weaving baskets, she was mending and sewing, never idle. Wei Hu, whenever he wasn’t in the mountains, would take on odd jobs. Now that Song Ning knew embroidery patterns could be sold for copper coins, he wasn’t idle either, starting to sketch floral designs at home.

Qiu-ger often came to visit Song Ning. On sunny days, they basked outside; on gloomy days, they lit a charcoal brazier indoors.

Worried Song Ning might be stingy with firewood, Wei Hu frequently chopped more from the mountains. Though firewood wasn’t scarce at home, Song Ning didn’t light the brazier daily. He skipped it on warm days, reasoning the coldest days hadn’t yet arrived—they could light it later.

Today was another fine day. Song Ning moved the small dining table out into the courtyard to sketch her floral designs. Qiu-ger’s embroidery basket sat on the table, too. The two worked on their respective tasks while chatting, occasionally breaking into giggles.

“Ning-ger, Qiu-ger, are you two busy?”

Li Xiaolian approached, carrying her own embroidery basket. Song Ning smiled at her. “Xiaolian, come sit. The sun is perfect right now.”

Li Xiaolian gazed at the floral patterns on the table and gasped. “Ning-ger, you draw so beautifully.”

Qiu-ger glanced at her embroidery hoop and inwardly rolled his eyes. “Xiaolian, this isn’t good at all. You’re wasting this plain fabric. What on earth is this supposed to be? A green caterpillar?”

Li Xiaolian’s smile froze. “I’m not as good as you, Qiu-ger. I’m just embroidering for fun.”

“It’s fine for fun, but you can’t sell it. It’s not pretty.”

Qiu-ger didn’t spare Li Xiaolian any courtesy in his words. Though they weren’t close, he suspected she was the one who’d spread the rumor about Ning-ger not knowing how to cook.

Song Ning, however, spared her some face with a few words of praise. “It’s quite nice. I can’t do it myself.”

Qiu-ger tugged at Song Ning’s sleeve. Why wasn’t he taking his side? Oh, right—Ning-ger didn’t know about that incident. Hmph. If he hadn’t guessed correctly, he’d still think Li Xiaolian was a harmless girl.

Song Ning looked at Qiu-ger, completely confused. “What’s wrong?”

Qiu-ger said nothing. “Nothing. Keep drawing.”

Li Xiaolian, however, looked at the floral patterns on the table with a familiar ease. She knew Song Ning’s designs could fetch good money. Chen Cuihua had flaunted them around the village a few days ago, and now everyone knew.

“Ning-ger, your drawings are so beautiful. Could you give me two embroidery patterns to play with?”

“This isn’t for you to play with! Each pattern takes ages to draw—look how red Ning-ger’s hands are from the cold.” Qiu-ger rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Five wen each. Saves you from buying them in town.”

“But…” Li Xiaolian pouted, biting her lip. “I’m sorry, Ning-ger. I was just joking.”

Seeing she was still just a young girl, Song Ning tried to smooth things over. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Here, take these two patterns. They’re not as detailed, but you can embroider them for fun.”

“Thank you, Ning-ger.”

Just moments ago, Qiu-ger had been chatting with Song Ning about amusing things. Now that Li Xiaolian had arrived, he fell silent, quietly stitching his own piece. Though the courtyard was bathed in warm sunshine, his hands felt a bit chilly when exposed—certainly not as comfortable as tucked inside his sleeves.

Li Xiaolian, however, chattered away intermittently. One moment, he praised Song Ning’s beautiful drawing; the next, he lamented his own lack of skills. Song Ning could only reassure him that Li Xiaolian excelled at the household chores.

Wei Hu returned early today, cradling Hei Dou in his arms. Hearing the commotion, Song Ning looked up. “Brother Wei Hu, back so early? What’s wrong with Hei Dou?”

Song Ning hurried over to see what had happened, while Li Xiaolian also stood up and called out, “Brother Huzi!”

“Nothing serious. He got his paw caught while chasing a rabbit. Just needs a few days to heal.”

“I’ll get some cloth!”

Hei Dou was a restless little fellow. Even with his paw injured, he tried to get down to play. Spotting the little cat basking in the sun in the yard, he wanted to go tease her.

Wei Hu smacked him on the forehead, and he finally settled down obediently on the ground. Song Ning fetched a scrap of cloth from the house for Wei Hu. Wei Hu poured some wine to rinse Hei Dou’s paw, and Hei Dou lay still without a sound.

Instead, Li Xiaolian, standing nearby, let out a startled gasp. Everyone turned to look at her. Li Xiaolian shuddered. “I… I’m afraid of blood.”

“Ning-ger, you step aside, too.”

“It’s fine. I’m not scared.”

Wei Hu chuckled, quickly bandaging Hei Dou’s paw before carrying him to the back yard to rest.

At first, Song Ning had been afraid of these two hunting dogs. They were quite tall, especially when they lunged at you—they looked no different from wild beasts.

Hei Dou was particularly tough. He used to scare Song Ning for fun, but after Wei Hu disciplined him a few times, he settled down. Hua Dou, on the other hand, was quite well-behaved. Sometimes Song Ning could even pet him.

When Song Ning first arrived, the hounds were chained in the yard whenever they weren’t out hunting. But as he grew familiar with them, his fear faded. He realized they were just playing rough with him. Besides, these hounds helped hunt game, earning the family some copper coins.

Following Wei Hu to the backyard, Song Ning saw Hei Dou’s injured paw and gently stroked its head with concern. “Brother Wei Hu, you’ve worked hard these past days. Rest at home for a couple of days. Let Hei Dou recover, too. We’ve got plenty of game at home. Tomorrow, let’s go to town together to sell it.”

“Alright.”

After they came out, Song Ning showed Wei Hu the flower patterns he’d drawn. “Qiu-ger told me which embroidery shop sells them. Brother Wei Hu, look, I’ve drawn quite a few. Tomorrow, let’s go sell them together.”

Li Xiaolian chimed in, “Brother Wei Hu, you’re going to town tomorrow, right?”

“Mhm.”

It was still early. Song Ning took advantage of the good sunlight to sketch two more designs. Wei Hu sat beside him, basking in the sun, while Li Xiaolian grew more talkative, asking Wei Hu if the wild pheasants and rabbits on the mountain were easy to catch.

Wei Hu, naturally taciturn, merely grunted a couple of times in response.

Qiu-ger couldn’t sit still any longer. “It’s almost time to cook. Li Xiaolian, are you coming?”

“Alright, let’s go together.”

The two carried their things out together. But barely two steps from the gate, Qiu-ger turned and headed home on his own, not waiting for Li Xiaolian. He didn’t like her, always suspecting she was the one who spread all those rumors about Song Ning around the village.

Qiu-ger scrunched up his little face, mimicking Li Xiaolian’s mannerisms. “Eww~ I’m scared of blood~.”

After mimicking her, Qiu-ger shuddered. “Ew, that’s disgusting! Tomorrow I’ll tell Ning-ger not to play with Li Xiaolian.”

After the two left, Wei Hu snatched the brush from Song Ning’s hand. “Are your hands cold?”

“Not cold.” Song Ning’s eyes crinkled with a smile. “Wei Hu Ge, warm them for me. Your hands are warm.”

Wei Hu wrapped the ger’s hands in his own. After painting for so long, his hands were frozen stiff, devoid of any warmth. Chen Cuihua had gone out to play today but was returning just in time to cook dinner. Upon coming back, she saw the young couple holding hands. She cleared her throat softly, “Huzi, you’re back so early today.”

“Yeah, Hei Dou hurt his paw.”

Song Ning quickly pulled his hand away. Holding hands in broad daylight felt rather embarrassing.

Chen Cuihua didn’t tease them this time. Hearing about Hei Dou’s injury, she hurried to the backyard to check on him. Only after seeing that he was fine did she relax.

In the countryside, winter offered little to eat. Wei Hu pulled out some noodles. By noon, the three of them each had a bowl of steaming hot egg sour soup with noodles.

Because Hei Dou’s paw was injured, Wei Hu stayed home to rest for two days. The back yard had accumulated quite a haul of game—pheasants, hares, and even a nest of bamboo rats. After tidying things up and eating breakfast, Wei Hu prepared to head into town.

Song Ning packed his flower patterns into a basket—he’d drawn quite a few over the past few days, about twenty in total. The two of them carried their belongings and headed out together.

Song Ning usually disliked going out. He didn’t know many people in the village and only played well with Qiu-ger. He was aware of the gossip about him among the villagers, which made him even more reluctant to mingle with others.

Song Ning wore a white rabbit-fur scarf around his neck, carrying the basket on his arm. Following Wei Hu, he looked especially petite, half his face hidden in the fur, only his two large, watery eyes peeking out.

“Are you cold?”

“Not cold, Brother Wei Hu. Let’s walk, okay? It’s chilly in the oxcart.”

“We’ll walk back. The oxcart’s faster to town.”

“Alright then.”

Song Ning’s eyes crinkled with a smile. Today was his first trip to town to sell his flower patterns, and he felt especially excited. He could finally help his family earn some copper coins.

Wei Hu smiled too. The ger, wrapped in his rabbit-fur scarf, looked like a little snowball.

The two walked together toward the village entrance. The weather had turned cold; even the river at the village entrance had frozen over. At the stone mill by the entrance, only those working lingered; no one else stood there catching the bitter wind.

“Brother Huzi, you’re heading to town? Perfect timing! My mom told me to sell our hen!”

Hearing someone call out, Song Ning turned to see Li Xiaolian carrying a chicken cage. “Xiaolian, you’re going to town too?”

“Yeah, I’ll tag along with you guys. It’ll be nice to have company on the way.”

“Sure thing.” Song Ning agreed.

Li Xiaolian was quite talkative. Seeing Wei Hu carrying a large haul of game, she couldn’t help but express her admiration. “Brother Wei Hu, you’re amazing! You managed to hunt so much game.”

Wei Hu merely grunted in response.

Before long, they encountered an oxcart heading to town. Wei Hu flagged it down and helped Song Ning climb aboard, hoping to sell the game sooner.

Once seated, Song Ning asked Li Xiaolian, “Want a ride?”

She shook her head. “No thanks. I don’t have any coins.”

The oxcart moved swiftly. Wei Hu, being a young man, kept pace effortlessly. Li Xiaolian tried to walk alongside them, but she couldn’t keep up and had to jog to follow.

Seeing the young girl struggle, Song Ning felt a twinge of pity. But the copper coins his family had were hard-earned. “Xiaolian, why don’t you ride for a bit? We can take turns.”

Li Xiaolian perked up at the offer. Before she could speak, Wei Hu piped up, “Hold on tight. Don’t fall off.”

Song Ning nodded and settled in. Li Xiaolian’s pace was slow, and Wei Hu frowned slightly. “Ning-ger and I will go ahead. You take your time.”

The oxcart wasn’t carrying many people to begin with. Who would venture into town on such a bitterly cold day? The old man driving the oxen had already climbed aboard and set the cart moving. Wei Hu strode swiftly after it, leaving Li Xiaolian behind.

Li Xiaolian called out twice, “Brother Wei Hu! Brother Wei Hu! I’m scared all alone!”

The oxcart had already disappeared into the distance. Li Xiaolian stamped her foot in frustration. How could he, a grown man, leave a young lady like her all by herself!

Song Ning asked with some concern, “Brother Wei Hu, is Xiaolian okay by herself?”

“She’ll be fine. She’s been going to town since she was little.”

Without Li Xiaolian holding them back, the two quickly reached the town. Wei Hu had brought a lot of game, so they first went to the inn to sell the pheasants and rabbits. The inn offered two wen more per piece than other buyers, saving them from standing out in the cold wind.

This haul was substantial—the pheasants and rabbits fetched over five hundred wen, plus a nest of bamboo rats. They’d sell those at the market later.

Both were pleased with the copper coins. Song Ning smiled. “Brother Wei Hu, let’s sell the embroidery patterns first.”

“Let’s go.”

The embroidery shop Qiu-ger mentioned wasn’t far from the inn. After walking for a short while, they arrived. It was Song Ning’s first time here. “Shopkeeper, do you buy embroidery patterns?”

The shopkeeper was sweeping with a feather duster when he noticed a delicate ger approach the door. Few sold embroidery patterns—artists disdained such trivial work, and gers or women rarely possessed the skill.

“Let me take a look.”

Song Ning approached, carrying his basket. The shopkeeper held the paper up to the light outside and examined it carefully. “Well, these are quite well drawn. Did you paint these yourself?”

“Yes, I did. A friend brought them over for me once before.”

Few people came to sell flower patterns, so the shopkeeper immediately recalled, “You must be Qiu-ger.”

“Yes.”

Since he’d sold here before, the shopkeeper didn’t haggle. “I’ll take all of these. Same as last time—five wen each.”

“Deal.”

This time, Song Ning brought twenty-five pieces, earning a total of one hundred and twenty-five wen. The shopkeeper counted them out and handed them to Song Ning. “From now on, I’ll take whatever you have.”

Song Ning’s eyes lit up with delight. “Thank you, shopkeeper.”

This was a long-term business opportunity. Since he was selling them externally, Song Ning’s flower designs became much more intricate. He could produce seven or eight pieces a day.