Song Baozhu lost about twenty copper coins in a row, so she slammed down her cards and went home. She’d gambled away a whole bundle of firewood’s worth of coins—her luck was truly terrible today, and running into Song Ning only made her feel even more frustrated.

Just as Song Baozhu arrived home, Zhao Qingshu came back, his shoulders hunched and a bundle of paper tucked under his arm. Seeing him like that, Song Baozhu was immediately filled with irritation. “Why are you back so early?”

“It’s cold out. Not many people want to write letters.”

Zhao Qingshu looked like a shivering little old man, wearing a tattered, patched cotton robe. With his neck hunched, he looked even more cowering. He really wasn’t even as well-off as that poor hunter Song Ning—he’d seen Song Ning dressed better than herself today!

Zhao Qingshu’s mother poked her head out of the house. “Baozhu, we’re out of firewood. Don’t forget to buy some.”

“I know, I know,” Song Baozhu replied impatiently. She had twenty taels of silver in her possession. Last time, Zhao Qingshu had been beaten and had to hand over more than two taels, and the family’s daily necessities—firewood, rice, oil, and salt—all depended on the silver she held.

She’d lived a comfortable life at the Song household, but since coming to the Zhao family, she couldn’t get used to the coarse cornmeal that scratched her throat. Not only did she get to eat white flour every day, but she also got to eat meat from time to time. Now, she had only seven or eight taels of silver left.

The thought made her even angrier. Zhao Qingshu earned such a pittance every day that it wasn’t even enough to buy firewood.

She couldn’t help but seethe inside. “Zhao Qingshu, can’t you stay out a little longer? We’re running low on silver now, and we still need to save some to buy you writing supplies. You have to take the imperial exams next year—how on earth will this be enough?”

“I’m working hard to earn it!”

Zhao Qingshu turned and went back inside. Back when Master Song was still alive, though the family was poor, he could still go to the academy to study. Now that he’d married Song Baozhu, although she’d brought a dowry of twenty taels of silver, she kept it all for herself, and the whole family had to live at her mercy.

Zhao Qingshu regretted marrying Song Baozhu more and more. As a Xiucai, he had to go out in the dead of winter to write letters for others. He’d been mocked a few times by former classmates who’d run into him, completely bringing shame upon his reputation as a man of letters.

Zhao Qingshu’s mother tried to console her: “Baozhu, if you’re short on silver, ask your mother for some help. Once Zhao Qingshu passes the provincial exams, our lives will get better.”

“I know.” Song Baozhu gave her a cold look and went inside. Honestly, if she hadn’t been pinning her hopes on Zhao Qingshu passing the exams, would she have married this poor Xiucai?

The Zhao family was so poor that they still lived in a thatched cottage. How many families in town lived in such a dilapidated place? She was the eldest daughter of the Song family—her life after marriage was worse than before. Now it seemed she wasn’t even as well-off as that little slut Song Ning!

She could only hope that Zhao Qingshu would pass the Juren examination next year. Then, no doubt, sycophants would come bearing silver and money, and she could live the good life again.

Song Ning didn’t care about Song Baozhu. The two of them quickly sold the remaining bundle of firewood. Two bundles fetched forty copper coins—hard-earned money. This was work that even a man without a strong build couldn’t handle.

The two headed to the embroidery shop together again. They knew their way around like the back of their hands by now. Song Ning’s embroidery patterns sold quite well there, and using them was a good deal for the embroiderers at the manor.

Seeing Song Ning arrive, the shopkeeper’s face lit up with a smile. “Young Master Ning, you’re here.”

“Hey, shopkeeper, could you take a look at these embroidery patterns?”

“Sure.”

The shopkeeper took them over and had an assistant pour tea for the two of them first. Song Ning had brought thirty embroidery patterns this time, earning a total of one hundred and fifty wen.

The shopkeeper counted the coins and came out from the back. “Young Master Ning, we’ve got a big job here—would you be interested in taking it on?”

Song Ning’s eyes lit up at the mention, “What kind of job is it?”

“Mr. Lu from town wants to celebrate his mother’s birthday. He’d like to buy a ‘The Fairy Ma Gu Presenting Longevity’ design from our embroidery shop to make into a small embroidered screen. He didn’t like any of the patterns we have here. If you can draw it, we’ll pay you two taels of silver.”

“I’ll give it a try!”

That’s two taels of silver! Song Ning was naturally eager to take it on. The shopkeeper smiled. “Alright, then go home and draw it, Ning-ger. But let me be blunt: even if you draw it perfectly, if Mr. Lu doesn’t like it, it won’t work out.”

Song Ning nodded. “I know.”

Song Ning was eager to land this job. As soon as he left the embroidery shop, he dragged Wei Hu along to buy some paper. This time, he needed to draw on a larger scale, and since he didn’t have paper that big at home, he had to buy some.

“Brother Wei Hu, it’s two taels of silver. I absolutely have to win this contract.”

“Yeah, don’t worry. You’re really good at this.”

Song Ning bought some paper, spending every last copper coin they’d earned that day. With only fifteen wen left, they could only afford a bowl of mutton offal soup and two buns. They ordered one bowl to share.

Wei Hu picked out the few pieces of meat in the soup and gave them to Song Ning. Song Ning’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “Brother Wei Hu, you should eat too. You work so hard every day.”

“You work hard too, Ning-ger.”

“I’m fine. It’s always warmer inside than out here.”

Wei Hu had a big appetite; one flatbread with soup wasn’t enough to fill him up. He just ate a little to warm himself up and planned to eat more when he got home.

The two walked home side by side. Song Ning was quite pleased to have landed this job. Although the shopkeeper had said he didn’t necessarily need him, if he did a good job, surely they’d want to hire him.

As soon as Song Ning got home, he got to work. He started by sketching a small elephant on a small piece of paper, afraid that if he ruined the large sheet later, it would be a waste.

Chen Cuihua also heard that Song Ning had landed this job—it was worth two taels of silver, after all. She gasped, “It’s actually that expensive!”

“Mother, I’m sure I can earn those two taels of silver!”

Chen Cuihua had never wanted Song Ning to do the heavy housework anyway. The ger worked hard enough drawing flower patterns every day, and now that he’d landed such a big commission, she was even more reluctant to make him do chores.

When cooking, she made sure to prepare the dishes Song Ning liked best. How could Song Ning not notice? She felt even more certain she’d married into a good family.

When Qiu-ger came and heard that Song Ning had landed such a job, he was overjoyed. “Ning-ger, you’re really something!”

“Not at all. You’re the one who’s truly capable, Qiu-ger. You know how to do so many more things than I do.”

Wei Hu still went to the back mountain every day to chop firewood. Chen Cuihua, having little else to do now, stayed home to keep Song Ning company. She wouldn’t even let him wash his own clothes; whenever she saw him change out of dirty clothes, she’d take them and wash them herself.

This made Song Ning feel quite embarrassed. “Mother, put those down. I’ll wash them myself.”

“It’s freezing out here. You’ll freeze your hands off. Let me do it.”

Song Ning felt a warm glow in his heart; he knew his mother was just looking out for him.

Wei Hu climbed the tree with his axe on his back, chopping off the branches above. Once he’d cut enough, he climbed down with a deft movement.

“Brother Huzi.”

Wei Hu was picking up firewood from the ground when he heard someone call his name and looked up. It was Li Xiaolian. Who would be wandering around the back mountain in the middle of winter?

“What’s up?”

“Brother Wei Hu, I need to talk to you.”

“What’s the matter?”

Li Xiaolian hadn’t been able to find an opportunity to talk to Wei Hu. Knowing he was chopping firewood on the back mountain, she’d come over to try her luck. She’d been here a few times, and this time she’d finally run into him.

Li Xiaolian bit her lip and said, “Brother Huzi, did you know that Song Ning was once engaged? That Xiucai still can’t stop thinking about him.”

Wei Hu furrowed his brow. “How do you know that?”

“I—I just heard it from someone else.”

“Who told you that!” Wei Hu’s tone was a bit harsh. Li Xiaolian assumed Wei Hu was angry because he knew about the affair between Song Ning and Xiucai. “Brother Wei Hu, who knows what Song Ning and Xiucai got up to back then? He’s just lying to you.”

No sooner had Li Xiaolian finished speaking than Wei Hu shoved her aside with his stick. She let out a cry of “Ouch!” and fell into a snowdrift.

“If I hear you speaking ill of Ning-ger again, next time it won’t be so simple.”

“Brother Huzi, I clearly knew you first! I like you, and I’m willing to be with you. Divorce Song Ning and marry me—I’m a woman who can bear children, and I know how to wash clothes and cook. I’m so much better than Song Ning!”

Wei Hu forced himself to hold back his anger and didn’t let go. If he were a man, he would’ve kicked her by now. “My Ning-ger is well-educated and well-mannered—he’s so much better than you. I can’t hit you, but my mother certainly can.”

Wei Hu slung the firewood onto his back and strode down the mountain. This Li Xiaolian wasn’t a simple girl—she’d tricked his ger into playing with her before, yet behind his back, she’d been spreading gossip about him.

Li Xiaolian was trembling with rage. What gave him the right? Song Ning was nothing but a down-and-out ger with a previous betrothal agreement, who couldn’t do a thing. In what way was she, Li Xiaolian, any less than Song Ning!

Li Xiaolian stumbled down the mountain. As she passed the Wei household, she saw Song Ning smiling as he wiped the sweat from Wei Hu’s brow. Song Ning didn’t acknowledge Li Xiaolian when he saw her; after all, he remembered the nasty things she’d said about him.

Li Xiaolian shot Song Ning a glare and walked away. Song Ning tugged at Wei Hu’s sleeve. “Brother Wei Hu, Li Xiaolian just glared at me.”

“Don’t pay her any mind. She’s just bored.”

Song Ning chuckled.

Chen Cuihua overheard and said, “Li Xiaolian is currently being considered for a match. Li Guifen wants her to marry a relative on her mother’s side. Though he’s a farmer, his family is well-off. He came over for a matchmaking visit a couple of days ago.”

Song Ning casually remarked that it sounded like a decent match, but he didn’t say much more. He had once considered Li Xiaolian a friend, but since she’d been badmouthing him behind his back, who would want to be friends with her now? Hmph!

It took Song Ning just a few days to finish his painting of “The Fairy Ma Gu Presenting Longevity.” He was quite pleased with it and showed it to Wei Hu and Chen Cuihua. Chen Cuihua couldn’t stop praising it: “It’s beautiful.”

The next day, Song Ning took the design with him and went to town with Wei Hu. After selling some firewood, they went to the Embroidery Shop to show it to the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper exclaimed, “Young Master Ning, you really draw well! Just look at how gracefully the skirt of that immortal maiden flows—excellent, excellent!”

Song Ning smiled. “I hope he’ll like it.”

“Alright, leave it with me. If Mr. Lu takes a liking to this design, I’ll give you the silver then.”

“Thank you, shopkeeper.”

The shopkeeper tucked the flower design away. If Mr. Lu took a liking to it, their embroidery shop could make a tidy profit—Mr. Lu was known for his generosity.

The two of them drank some tea to warm themselves up, and Song Ning had his hot-water bottle refilled with hot water, hugging it to stay warm.

Since they’d arrived early today, they’d still be in time for dinner if they headed home, so they didn’t eat in town and set off together.

Song Ning muttered, “I hope Mr. Lu likes it. I spent five whole days drawing it.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll definitely like it.”

Song Ning smiled. “Brother Wei Hu, you’re actually trying to sweet-talk me.”