Song Ning tugged at Wei Hu’s sleeve and hid behind him, peeking out from behind him. “Brother Wei Hu, will she… will she hit me?”

“No.”

Chen Cuihua strode into the house, feeling vindicated. Her son-in-law sure knew how to give it back. When people used to accuse her Wei Hu of being a wife-killer, why hadn’t she thought to call them husband-killers instead!

Chen Cuihua was overjoyed; the more she looked at Song Ning, the more she liked him. He was a good, easy-going ger.

The fish soup in the pot was almost ready. The three of them gathered in the kitchen to eat. The soup was incredibly fresh; Song Ning drank two bowls in a row and soaked some rice in it, until his belly was as round as a ball.

Chen Cuihua was delighted to see Song Ning eating so heartily. If he got his strength back, he could help the family have a child. Then she’d drive Li Guifen crazy—after all, having a baby was no big deal; her Ning-ger could do it too!

When this ger first arrived, his complexion was as sallow as wax, but now his little face was rosy, and he’d grown even more adorable.

After the meal, Chen Cuihua pulled Song Ning aside for a heart-to-heart. “My dear Ning-ger, how are things between you and Brother Huzi?”

Song Ning replied blankly, “Pretty good.”

“Mother isn’t asking about that. I’m asking about the two of you. Have you been having any stomach discomfort lately?”

Song Ning’s face flushed bright red. “Mother, Brother Wei Hu and I are getting along just fine.”

“If you’re not feeling well, tell Mother. I’ll take you to see a doctor. Give Mother a grandson soon—I won’t turn down a boy or a girl. It’ll drive that Li Guifen crazy!”

Song Ning thought back to that unpleasant night. He gritted his teeth and said, “I’ll have them! I’ll give Brother Wei Hu a whole litter!”

Chen Cuihua beamed with joy. Overjoyed, she reached over to the bedside and handed Song Ning two small silver ingots, as if she could already see children running all over the place, a bunch of little ones chasing after her and calling her “Grandma.” 

The more she thought about it, the happier she became, until she was practically blinded by delight.

Song Ning stumbled out of bed, clutching the two small silver ingots. Wei Hu saw him and chuckled, “Why did mother give you so much silver?”

“I—I don’t know.”

Song Ning knew full well—it was probably because he’d promised to give Brother Wei Hu a whole litter of children. His mother was overjoyed, and Song Ning couldn’t possibly bring himself to tell Wei Hu that.

But once the words were out, they couldn’t be taken back. He was going to do it!

That night, Song Ning lay on the bed with a death-defying resolve. Closing his eyes, he said, “Brother Wei Hu, come on!”

Wei Hu was startled by his words. He pulled back the quilt and covered him up. “Aren’t you afraid of catching a chill?”

Song Ning felt that lying under the covers didn’t show his resolve, so he sprawled out boldly on the bed. Little did he know that the man who’d acted like he was going to devour him the other day had suddenly turned into a saint.

Song Ning lost his nerve and said cautiously, “Brother Wei Hu, go easy on me later, okay? My back just stopped hurting.”

Wei Hu had already blown out the lamp. “Let’s sleep.”

“No way. Come on, the sooner we get this over with, the better!”

What was going on today? Just a couple of days ago, he wouldn’t even let me touch him, but now he’s in the mood again. Wei Hu reached out and pulled him onto his chest. “Are you serious?”

“Mm-hmm! Come on!”

Wei Hu kissed the ger’s forehead. “No more fooling around. Let’s sleep.”

Song Ning nuzzled Wei Hu’s chest. “Okay, but it’s your fault for not coming. Don’t blame me.”

“Mm.” Wei Hu smoothed the ger’s hair. “But what did mother say?”

Song Ning nodded obediently. “Mom said to have a baby for you.”

“What did you say?”

“I said I’d have a whole litter for you…”

Wei Hu burst out laughing. No wonder his mother had given this ger so much silver—if he’d kept talking, she’d probably have dug up her life savings.

Song Ning tickled Wei Hu. “Don’t laugh, don’t laugh.”

Wei Hu quickly seized the opportunity to ask, “Don’t you like it? Does it feel uncomfortable?”

This young man had been quite bold before, but now he seemed reluctant.

“It’s uncomfortable, really uncomfortable. It hurts, and you won’t stop. I’m scared. The books say it’s supposed to feel good—they’re lying! It’s not comfortable at all. It’s not even as comfortable as when you touch me.”

“Huh? Where did you read that?” Wei Hu raised an eyebrow.

Song Ning accidentally let it slip, “No, no books. You must have heard wrong.”

The books he read weren’t the kind proper scholars would touch; he liked reading storybooks, and that’s where he’d heard it.

Only then did Wei Hu realize why the young man had been so bold earlier. He couldn’t help but laugh, and Song Ning, lying against his chest, blushed at the vibration. “Don’t laugh!”

“Read it to me tomorrow. We can learn together.”

Song Ning was so embarrassed that sweat beaded on his forehead. “Who wants to study with you!”

After all that commotion, Song Ning wasn’t sleepy anymore. Leaning against Wei Hu, he counted his fingers. “Brother Wei Hu, I’m going to work hard to earn some copper coins. When we have a little one at home, it won’t be enough to spend. If we have a whole bunch of little ones, that’s when it really won’t be enough.”

As soon as Song Ning finished speaking, he burst into giggles, as if the family courtyard were already filled with little ones.

Wei Hu chuckled softly too; this ger really knew how to play on people’s emotions.

“I’ll earn some too! Once we’ve saved up enough copper coins, we’ll buy a big yellow ox. Then we can ride our oxcart into town and even use it to work the fields. We’ve already saved up twelve taels of silver between the two of us, and by New Year’s, we might even have a few more!”

“Oh, and there’s the two taels of silver Mother gave me—that makes fourteen taels in total!” Song Ning grew more and more excited as he spoke. “Brother Wei Hu, how much silver does a big yellow ox cost? If we save a little more next year, will we be able to buy one?”

Wei Hu patted the ger on the back and gave a soft “Mm-hmm. We’ll be able to buy one.”

Wei Hu didn’t tell Song Ning how much an ox actually cost, lest the ger get so anxious he’d start daydreaming in the dead of winter—they were still a long way off. For a rural family, saving two or three taels a year was already considered quite good.

This year had already been a bumper harvest for his family. Ever since Song Ning had come to live with them, he’d even been bagging more game than usual, so they were saving up silver at a fairly rapid pace.

Even a calf that couldn’t work yet cost over twenty taels; one that was ready to work right away would easily set him back nearly thirty taels of silver.

Wei Hu didn’t just want to buy a cow; he also wanted to buy some land. Come next spring, he planned to raise some chickens and ducks at home. It would liven up the place, and the eggs would be good for the ger to eat.

Song Ning drifted off to sleep as he spoke. Wei Hu tugged the quilt closer and shifted the hot water bottle a little nearer to the ger. The ger had been raised in luxury; living with a rough-and-tumble man like him must be a hardship for him.

He was someone who never did any housework, yet living with Wei Hu, his delicate fingers had turned red from the cold.

Song Ning felt that life was going quite well now, but he didn’t realize that Wei Hu felt it was far from enough.

Another heavy snowfall blanketed the area for two straight days, turning everything in front of and behind the house into a vast expanse of white. Wei Hu couldn’t go into the mountains either; the snow was too deep, and the trails were already closed. But Wei Hu wasn’t idle—since the snow was too deep to climb the mountain, he went out to chop firewood. As a grown man, he couldn’t just sit around at home doing nothing.

It was too cold in winter, so Wei Hu didn’t let Song Ning get up so early. With the snow falling these past two days, Wei Hu had a rare chance to rest, holding Song Ning close in bed.

After getting up, he first shoveled the snow off the roof, then cleared all the snow from the courtyard to one side, leaving a path for people to walk through. That way, when the snow melted in early spring, they wouldn’t have to water the vegetable garden.

In such cold weather, even Chen Cuihua didn’t get up that early. There wasn’t much work to do in the dead of winter; even for mending clothes, there wasn’t that much to do.

When Song Ning opened his eyes, Wei Hu was no longer beside him. The hot water bottle he was holding was still scalding—Wei Hu must have gotten up early to change the water for him.

Song Ning hugged the hot water bottle in bed and let out a soft sigh. It felt so good. He recalled last winter when he’d been tending to Wu Cai’e and the other two, working until his fingers swelled up. Though life now wasn’t as prosperous as before, he certainly wasn’t lacking in food or clothing.

Song Ning stretched lazily, got up, put on his jacket, and casually tied his hair back. As soon as he stood up, a chill swept over him, so he quickly reached for his rabbit-fur-lined jacket and slipped it on.

Once he was ready, Song Ning ran out. “Brother Wei Hu, why are you up so early again?”

“I’m up. Let’s go warm up in the kitchen.”

“Alright.”

Song Ning was bundled up so tightly that he didn’t feel the cold at all. Brother Wei Hu had kept the skins from most of the rabbits he hunted. He’d kept the meat for himself or sold it cheaply in town, and with the rabbit skins he’d saved up, he’d made Song Ning a white padded jacket.

This rabbit-skin padded jacket was wonderfully warm; not a bit of the cold wind could penetrate to his bones. Wei Hu had specifically chosen white rabbits—he thought they looked good on Song Ning. The gray rabbits had mottled fur, so whenever he hunted one, he’d sell it right away.

Song Ning slipped into the kitchen. A large iron pot was simmering red bean porridge, with some sweet potatoes and pumpkin steaming on top. A small earthenware jar filled with warm water sat beside the stove; Song Ning scooped some out to wash up.

Now that she was closer to the fire, Song Ning—dressed in thick layers—felt herself starting to sweat. She smiled to herself; this rabbit-fur coat was truly warm.

Chen Cuihua had also gotten up. She was warming her hands by the stove. “It’s really cold out there. You can’t even stick your hands out.”

“Mother, wash your face.” Song Ning happily helped scoop some hot water.

“Alright.”

The three of them ate in the kitchen. There wasn’t much to eat in the dead of winter—just a bowl of porridge with some pickles—but after finishing, they all felt warm.

After eating, Wei Hu shouldered his machete and firewood rack and headed out. With the snow this deep, hunting was out of the question, but he could hike a little way up the mountain to chop firewood. With the cold weather today, firewood was a few cents more expensive than usual.

Song Ning saw Wei Hu off at the door. “Brother Wei Hu, be careful—the snow’s deep out there.”

Chen Cuihua called out as well, “Don’t carry so much at once. If you wear yourself out, you’ll suffer when you’re old.”

Song Ning quickly added, “Brother Wei Hu, did you hear that? Don’t bring back so much at a time.”

Wei Hu chuckled. “Got it. Go inside quickly—it’s cold out here.”

“Alright.”

Song Ning finally stepped inside. The charcoal used for cooking that morning had been taken from the stove and placed in the main room. As soon as he entered, a wave of warmth washed over him, and he took off the rabbit-fur coat he’d been wearing.

Song Ning didn’t waste any time. He went into the main room, ground some ink, and started sketching flower patterns again. Chen Cuihua nudged the brazier closer to him. “Ning-ger, it’s freezing out here in the middle of winter—even inside the house, your hands get cold. Put the flower sketches aside for now and take a break.”

“Mother, I’m not cold. I’ve got my hot water bottle, and I’m warming myself by the fire—how could I be cold?”

Song Ning just wanted to earn a few more copper coins. Brother Wei Hu had to chop firewood and carry it all the way to town to sell. The firewood was so heavy, and the walk took so long—Song Ning felt for him. He wanted to save up some silver as soon as possible to buy a mule or an ox, so Brother Wei Hu could use a cart to haul the firewood to town.

Chen Cuihua couldn’t dissuade him, so she could only bring him hot tea from time to time to help him stay warm.

On such a cold day, even inside the house, your hands would go numb if you left them out for too long. Chen Cuihua knew Song Ning wanted to help the family earn some money; this ger truly tugged at her heartstrings.

Since Wei Hu had stopped going into the mountains to hunt, he spent his time cutting firewood on the hillside behind their house. In a single morning, he could make two round trips, carrying over a hundred pounds each time. If he worked nonstop, he could manage four trips a day. After drying the wood in the courtyard, he would carry it to town to sell.

Song Ning had saved up quite a few flower arrangements as well. Tomorrow, when Wei Hu went to town to sell firewood, he would tag along to sell his flower arrangements.

Song Ning counted the copper coins in his hand. Between the two of them, they had saved up sixteen taels of silver. If they moved quickly, they might even be able to buy a head of livestock by next summer. The thought made Song Ning work even harder.

Early the next morning, after breakfast, the two set off for town. Song Ning wore a hooded cap and a rabbit-fur coat, with a white rabbit-fur scarf wrapped around his neck, making him look all fluffy.

With a basket slung over one arm and a hot water bottle clutched in the other, he wouldn’t feel the cold even outdoors. Wei Hu had already bundled up his load of firewood. Since firewood sold for twenty wen per bundle, Wei Hu had packed a full load to save himself a trip.

Wei Hu hoisted the bundle onto his shoulders. “All set. Let’s go.”

“Alright.”

“Come back early.” Chen Cuihua saw them off at the door, and Song Ning obediently replied.

It was cold now; not a single idle person could be seen at the village entrance. Who would go out in this bitter cold just to catch a chill? With the cold weather, even ox-cart fares had gone up—from three wen per person before to five wen now.

Song Ning didn’t want to ride either; he hated the cold. Sitting still wouldn’t keep him warm—he’d rather walk.

Song Ning tucked his little face into his scarf; his cheeks felt a bit chilly, but otherwise he was fine—he was wearing a hood, after all. Wei Hu, standing beside him, was just wearing a padded jacket.

Song Ning hadn’t taken more than a few steps before he shoved the hot water bottle into Wei Hu’s arms. “Brother Wei Hu, you hold this to warm your hands. I’ll tuck mine inside my coat—I won’t get cold.”

“You hold it yourself. I’m not afraid of the cold.”

Song Ning let out a little “Oh!” “You hold it—hurry up.”

Only then did Wei Hu take it from him. Song Ning’s hot water bottle was so dainty that it looked a bit out of place in Wei Hu’s arms. Song Ning slung his basket over his shoulder and walked beside Wei Hu; his older brother Wei Hu could even help shield him from the wind.

Once they arrived in town, they started by selling firewood. The firewood was heavy, so getting it sold first would be a relief.

They went into the alley to hawk their wares. Everyone in town needed firewood; even if they didn’t light a fire for warmth, they still needed it for cooking, so they had no trouble making a sale.

Wei Hu carried the firewood on his shoulders, calling out, “Firewood for sale! Firewood for sale!”

Song Ning stood beside him, shouting along, “Firewood for sale! Firewood for sale!”

A household opened its door. “Give me a bundle. How much is it?”

“Twenty wen.”

The woman clicked her tongue. “That’s so expensive. It used to be fifteen wen a bundle.”

Song Ning smiled. “The snow’s deep on the mountain right now, so it’s hard to cut firewood. Ma’am, take a look at our firewood—we’ve got a bit more than the others in each bundle.”

The woman saw that Wei Hu’s bundle was indeed larger than the others’. She knew the going rate well enough, so she called Wei Hu over to carry the firewood into the courtyard.

“Wait here. I’ll go inside and get the coins for you.”

The woman went inside and grabbed some coins from the card table. “Baozhu, whether you’re buying firewood or not, this man’s bundle is well worth the price.”

“I’ll go take a look.”

Song Baozhu came out as well and saw two people standing in the courtyard. She hadn’t seen Wei Hu in so long that she didn’t recognize him at first, and Song Ning was wrapped up so tightly that she had to look closely before realizing it was actually him!

She stood at the doorway and gasped, “Isn’t that my little brother? Why isn’t your husband selling wild chickens and rabbits anymore? Has he switched to cutting firewood?”

Song Ning hadn’t expected to run into Song Baozhu. He couldn’t be bothered to deal with her; he just took the copper coins, and they left.

The woman handed the copper coins to Wei Hu. “What’s this? Do you two know each other?”

Song Ning shook his head. “No, I don’t. Brother Wei Hu, let’s go.”

There was only one bundle of firewood left. Wei Hu hoisted it onto his back, and Song Baozhu scoffed, “So down on his luck he’s resorted to chopping and selling firewood.”

The woman went inside. There were two other people in the room; they were playing a card game called “Leaf Cards.”

The woman asked, “Baozhu, do you know this firewood seller? The man is dressed rather plainly, but the young ger beside him is well-dressed. He doesn’t look like a country bumpkin; he looks more like a ger who’s been pampered and raised by some wealthy family.”

“Him? That’s my younger brother—a thankless wretch. We’ve raised him all these years for nothing.”

The woman gasped, “So it’s Song Ning! No wonder he doesn’t look like a country boy.”

She had heard that Song Ning had previously been betrothed to Xiucai Zhao, yet now he had married Song Baozhu. It didn’t take much to figure out what had happened. She took a dig at Song Baozhu—though they often played leaf cards together, Song Baozhu had always looked down on them, relying on the fact that she had a Xiucai for a husband.

“That ger doesn’t look like he’s living in poverty. Look at that man—he’s not dressed very well, but the ger is kept in fine form.”

Someone nearby chimed in, “That’s right. Look at that cotton coat—it’s made of good fabric. And that rabbit-fur coat doesn’t have a single blemish; you can tell they put a lot of care into it.”

Song Baozhu snorted. “They’re just country bumpkins, poor as church mice. Otherwise, who would be out selling firewood in this freezing cold? Enough of this. Enough. Let’s get back to the cards.”

Song Baozhu had assumed Song Ning would be wearing rags in the countryside, but to her surprise, he was now dressed even more elegantly. It truly infuriated her!