While Song Ning was sketching the design, he held the hot water bottle close to his chest, resting one hand on it to keep warm. The little calico cat also curled up and nuzzled against him, growing ever more fond of lounging on Song Ning’s lap.

Song Ning was quite fond of the hot water bottle embroidered with a little tiger. As soon as Wei Hu returned, she couldn’t wait to show it to him. “Brother Wei Hu, look—Qiu-ger helped me embroider it.”

The ger held the hot water bottle, his eyes sparkling. Wei Hu’s heart melted as he looked at it. “It’s very pretty.”

“I think it’s pretty, too.” Song Ning was overjoyed. “Brother Wei Hu, I saw quite a few river pebbles by the village entrance. I thought I’d pick some up for Qiu-ger—he can roast them to warm his hands.”

“Sure.”

Qiu-ger couldn’t bring himself to buy a hot water bottle, so using river pebbles would do just fine. Though it was a bit of a hassle, they were still quite warm.

Taking advantage of Wei Hu’s presence at home, Song Ning dragged him outside with him. Now that it was getting cold, there were fewer idle people at the village entrance—which suited Song Ning just fine, as he didn’t want others watching him; it made him feel a bit self-conscious.

It was still quite chilly by the riverbank. Song Ning carefully turned over the stones—ones that were too big wouldn’t do, nor would ones that were too small; they had to be somewhat round, and if they were pretty, all the better.

Wei Hu turned over stones nearby but let Song Ning pick them out himself; he felt it wasn’t his place to interfere while the ger was gathering items for a gift.

It took Song Ning a good while to sort through them before finding ten that were just the right size—only slightly larger than a bird’s egg. He’d just need to sew a cloth pouch, heat the stones, and put them inside.

Even if Qiu-ger was busy embroidering every day, it would still keep his knees warm.

Song Ning stood by the riverbank for a while, catching the breeze, until his hands turned red from the cold. Wei Hu took his hand and led him home.

That night, Song Ning curled up comfortably in bed with the hot water bottle, no longer crawling into Wei Hu’s embrace. Wei Hu lay there for a while but didn’t see the ger come over, so he reached out and placed the hot water bottle on Song Ning’s back. “I’ll put it there to keep you warm.”

Song Ning snuggled up against Wei Hu. “Brother Wei Hu, you’re so petty.”

Wei Hu tugged at his cheek. “Who’s being petty?”

Song Ning giggled, then mischievously tugged at the sash of Wei Hu’s undershirt with his small hand. Wei Hu pressed his hand down. “You want it again.”

Song Ning’s face flushed bright red. What nonsense! He made it sound like he was some kind of horny guy!

“Hmph!”

“You’re frail. You need to rest up.”

“I’m not frail at all!” Song Ning rolled over and hugged his hot water bottle. Big Brother Wei Hu was just worried about his reputation for being a wife-killer—but wasn’t he doing just fine?

Wei Hu reached out and pulled him back into his arms. “You’re upset? I’ll just spoil you then.”

Wei Hu’s hand slipped under the covers and grabbed Song Ning. Song Ning quickly let go of the hot water bottle in his arms—he didn’t want to get it dirty again. After a bit of a struggle, Song Ning’s face flushed crimson, and he obediently curled up in Wei Hu’s arms and fell asleep.

Song Ning slept soundly until dawn. When Qiu-ger arrived the next day, Song Ning beamed as he pulled out his stones. “Look, Qiu-ger, I picked up some stones for you. You can heat them up to warm your hands.”

Qiu-ger gasped, “Ning-ger, you’re so clever! How come I never thought of using stones to warm my hands?”

Qiu-ger was happy for just a moment before his mood soured again. Even with the stones, he couldn’t use them—he couldn’t just hold them directly in his hands. He had some cloth, but there was no extra cotton at home; he needed a layer of cotton to insulate them.

But he didn’t let it show; he happily took them anyway. “Ning-ger, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Why are you being so formal with me? I found some cloth for you, and some old cotton—don’t look down on it.”

Qiu-ger was so moved that his eyes welled up with tears. “Ning-ger, how could you be so kind!”

Qiu-ger didn’t embroider that morning either; in just a few hours, he’d sewn a cotton pouch with an elastic opening. Once the pebble was heated in the brazier, it could be slipped right inside.

Qiu-ger held up his hand warmer and exclaimed, “Ning-ger, try it—it feels so good!”

Ning-ger had chosen a pebble that was just the right size—smooth to the touch—and the hand warmer he made was incredibly comfortable. Aside from needing to heat the stone, it was just as good as a traditional hot-water bottle.

“You can heat the stone under the stove while cooking dinner. Put it on the bed to warm up first, and when you lie down, it’ll be nice and toasty.”

Qiu-ger nodded in agreement; he was quite pleased with his new pebble hand warmer.

In recent days, Song Ning had delivered quite a few flower patterns to the embroidery shop. Sometimes Wei Hu would help him deliver them, and sometimes he would go along himself.

Little by little, he had saved up some silver. Wei Hu also gave Song Ning the silver he earned from hunting. They had saved up eleven taels, all of which Song Ning kept hidden in a small box.

Every time he received copper coins, he would count them and put them away, stringing one hundred wen together at a time. Once he had saved up a thousand wen, he would ask Wei Hu to exchange them for silver. Watching the pile of coins grow larger and larger, Song Ning couldn’t have been happier.

“Brother Wei Hu, once we’ve saved up enough silver, let’s buy a beast of burden for the family—a big yellow ox or a mule would do. We can use it for working the fields.”

How could Wei Hu not agree? Not only did he want to buy livestock, but he also dreamed of acquiring some farmland in the future, building a big house, and letting Song Ning live there.

Another heavy snowfall came down; this time, the snow was much deeper. Wei Hu couldn’t go into the mountains anymore, so he stayed at home. Before, when the weather was nice, they didn’t need to light a charcoal fire inside, but now they had no choice—the house was simply freezing.

Qiu-ger often came over to do embroidery. The weather was so bitterly cold that he couldn’t even straighten his fingers at home. Because of the cold, Wei Hu forbade Song Ning from painting anymore. Song Ning pouted unhappily, “Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Aren’t there plenty of books at home? Read them.”

With Wei Hu watching over him, Song Ning couldn’t paint. He thought about how each flower sketch earned him five wen—he couldn’t bear to give that up. But it was truly freezing today; outside, heavy snow was falling, and the wind stung his face the moment he stepped out. Even if he stretched out his hand to paint inside, it would go stiff with cold in no time.

Li Xiaolian had also been dropping by Song Ning’s place frequently these days. Every time she came, she’d warm herself by the fire and chat about this and that. Although Chen Cuihua didn’t like Li Guifen, she didn’t think it was worth getting into a spat with a little girl.

Li Xiaolian enjoyed chatting with Wei Hu whenever she came over. At first, Song Ning didn’t notice anything unusual; he just thought they were all from the same village.

Qiu-ger was rolling his eyes so hard they seemed ready to pop out of his head. He’d been putting up with this for a long time. Taking advantage of the fact that he’d arrived earlier than Li Xiaolian that day, he whispered to Song Ning, “Ning-ger, don’t pay any attention to Li Xiaolian. That little girl isn’t what she seems.”

Song Ning was completely baffled. “What’s going on?”

Song Ning had also noticed that Qiu-ger didn’t like Li Xiaolian; sometimes when they were talking together, he’d even take the opportunity to throw a few snide remarks her way.

“What’s going on? How can you be so oblivious? Haven’t you noticed that every time Li Xiaolian comes over, she tries to squeeze her way over to Brother Hu? And you’re asking me!”

Song Ning let out an “Ah.” He remembered that Wei Hu had been home a lot lately, and Li Xiaolian had indeed been coming by more often. Song Ning felt a bit uneasy—it seemed like Li Xiaolian enjoyed talking to Brother Wei Hu.

“Ning-ger, you’re home, aren’t you?”

Li Xiaolian’s voice came from outside again. She lifted the straw curtain and stepped inside. “The snow’s still coming down hard. It’ll keep falling for another couple of days. It’s so cold out there. Once the mountain’s cut off, Brother Huzi won’t be able to make it up here.”

Li Xiaolian held her hands over the brazier to warm them. “Where’s Brother Huzi? Why isn’t he here warming himself by the fire?”

“Brother Wei Hu is in the kitchen, proofing the dough.”

“I’ll go fetch some water. There isn’t much left in this kettle.”

Li Xiaolian went out again. Qiu-ger gave Song Ning a knowing look. “Look at that—I’ve never seen anyone so carefree. She went straight to look for Brother Huzi the moment she arrived. Only you’d be that naive.”

Song Ning wasn’t happy either. “How was I supposed to know she had those feelings for Brother Wei Hu?”

Qiu-ger just laughed, calling Song Ning a little fool. “There’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time. Don’t think I’m just gossiping, but about that time you couldn’t cook—who else knew besides me? Only Li Xiaolian has come to play with you a few times, and she knows. I was just guessing.”

Song Ning’s face fell even further. “I’ll go take a look.”

Song Ning couldn’t sit still any longer. He grabbed his hot water bottle and rushed out. Just as he lifted the curtain, he saw Li Xiaolian’s legs give way as she stumbled toward Wei Hu. Without a word, Wei Hu shoved her into the snowdrift.

Li Xiaolian let out a startled cry and fell face-first into the snow. Qiu-ger heard the commotion and hurried out as well. “What’s going on?”

When he came out, he only saw Li Xiaolian lying in the snowdrift.

Song Ning didn’t say anything. She pulled a sour face, glared at Wei Hu, snorted, and went back inside to warm herself by the fire. Still feeling annoyed, she called out to him, “Wei Hu, come back and warm yourself by the fire!”

Li Xiaolian felt a bit awkward and tried to smooth things over. “This snow is just too slippery.”

Qiu-ger just thought she was being dramatic. “Where’s it slippery?”

Qiu-ger didn’t offer to help her up; he went back inside to continue embroidering. Wei Hu strode toward the main room, and Li Xiaolian reached out to him. “Brother Wei Hu, give me a hand. I can’t get up.”

“If you can’t get up, just lie there.”

Wei Hu went inside, sat down beside Song Ning, and handed him a bowl of red date tea. “Have some water.”

“I won’t drink it.”

Song Ning scowled and ignored him, so Wei Hu set the bowl aside.

Seeing that the two weren’t getting along, Qiu-ger decided to head home. “Ning-ger, I’m going home first.”

“You’re not allowed to go. Stay here and warm yourself by the fire.”

Qiu-ger sat back down, his eyes darting between the two of them from time to time. He’d always thought Ning-ger was a softie, but it seemed that wasn’t the case.

Qiu-ger stayed to embroider for a while before heading home. Once he was gone, the room was left with just the two of them. Wei Hu snatched the book from Song Ning’s hands. “What did you just call me?”

Song Ning pouted, “Give me back my book!”

Song Ning didn’t manage to snatch it back; instead, he ended up burrowing into Wei Hu’s chest. Wei Hu was amused by him and pinched the young ger’s nape. Song Ning let out a soft “uh” and winced, trying to pull away—but Wei Hu was holding him fast.

Wei Hu hummed in response, “What did you just call me?”

“Wei Hu!” Song Ning snapped again.

Wei Hu was amused by the ger’s antics; when he got angry, he looked just like the little colored fox at home, baring its teeth. Wei Hu ran his fingers over the warmth of the ger’s neck, and Song Ning’s knees went weak, causing him to collapse completely into Wei Hu’s arms.

“Wei Hu! You big rascal!”

Wei Hu pulled him close and held him in his lap. “What did I ever do to you to make you so mean?”