Wei Hu dared not sleep deeply all night. He clung to the edge of the bed, afraid that if he drifted deeper into sleep, he might bump into the ger inside.

But the ger was restless in his sleep. At first, he lay still and flat, but soon he rolled over onto his side, his warm breath brushing against Wei Hu’s neck. Wei Hu stiffened like a piece of wood.

As the ger slept, he rolled closer still. The moment his arm brushed against Wei Hu, the latter jolted awake and tumbled off the bed. Though he was now drowsy and nearly asleep, he remained acutely aware of the ger beside him.

The moment Song Ning touched him, Wei Hu immediately pulled away, tumbling off the bed. Sitting on the floor, he hissed in pain—the fall had definitely hurt.

The dim lamp by the bed was nearly extinguished, casting the room in deeper shadow. The room was even darker, and the ger lay in the center of the bed, though he was asleep, his brow was slightly furrowed, his expression suggesting restless slumber.

“Zhang Po…”

The ger murmured something softly. Wei Hu had to lean closer to hear it, unsure who he was calling out to. Wei Hu recalled his mother saying that when they brought the ger home today, an elderly woman had delivered it to him. Could he be homesick?

“What is it?” Wei Hu asked.

The ger on the bed shifted against his pillow. “Granny, the bed is so hard.”

Wei Hu ran his hand over the ger’s bed. Beneath him lay a straw mat woven from rice straw, covered only by a single sheet. Wei Hu disliked the heat and slept this way in summer; now, as winter approached, he hadn’t found it uncomfortable. But this ger was delicate and frail—likely unaccustomed to sleeping on straw.

The ger tossed restlessly, soon rolling back toward the inner corner of the bed. His hair spilled across the spot where Wei Hu had been lying.

The oil lamp flickered out. By now, the rooster had crowed three times, and dawn was approaching. Wei Hu decided to get up and dress.

Outside, moonlight bathed the ground in a bright glow. Wei Hu shouldered his wood rack and took his axe into the mountains.

Song Ning slept soundly until the sky was fully lit, finally roused by the rural clamor of crowing roosters and barking dogs. Ever since learning of his impending marriage, he hadn’t slept well—this rare, uninterrupted slumber felt like a luxury.

Glancing beside the bed, Song Ning saw that the man who had slept there was long gone. He heard faint sounds coming from outside. Putting on the man’s clothes, he hastily pinned his hair back with a wooden hairpin.

When he left the Song household, his stepmother wouldn’t even let him take his silver hairpin, let alone any dowry. His bundle contained only a slightly worn robe—that was all he owned.

Stepping out of the main hall, Song Ning saw Wei Hu stoking the fire in the kitchen. His mother-in-law was nowhere to be seen. Two small dogs were running wildly back and forth in the courtyard. Spotting him, they barked twice in his direction.

Hearing the commotion, Wei Hu emerged from the kitchen. He scolded the two small dogs a few times, then grabbed one by each collar and tied them up again.

The black-and-white dog lay obediently on the ground, motionless. The black dog, however, whined in displeasure twice. Wei Hu gave it a light slap, and Black Bean whimpered pitifully twice.

Early this morning, Wei Hu had untied the two dogs, letting them run wild with him on the back mountain. Returning to find Song Ning still asleep, he let the dogs play in the courtyard for a while.

Hunting dogs were lively creatures that couldn’t be restrained; they loved to roam freely across the hills and fields. Before Song Ning arrived, neither dog had ever been leashed. It was only after Wei Hu heard from his mother yesterday that Black Bean had pounced on Song Ning that he had tied both dogs up.

“Does it dislike being tied up?” Song Ning asked softly.

“It’s fine. It’s just used to the wild. It’ll get used to it after a couple of days.”

Wei Hu had already gone inside to fetch water for Song Ning to wash his face. Song Ning thanked him. Wei Hu tossed a piece of wood into the pot. “We don’t have a clean towel at home. I’ll go to town and buy you one later.”

“Okay. Where’s Mother?”

“She went to the mountains to gather rattan. She’ll be back soon.”

After washing his face, Song Ning didn’t know what to do. Wei Hu was cooking, and his mother-in-law wasn’t home. The yard was spotless, clearly freshly swept. He looked around but couldn’t find any chores to do.

Noticing the vegetable patch looked parched, Song Ning scooped water and splashed it around. Wei Hu watched, his lips twitching, but no words came out. He wanted to tell Song Ning to rest—the garden didn’t need watering; in a few days, the first frost would come, and it would all be pulled up anyway.

But seeing Song Ning happily shuttling back and forth with the water, Wei Hu decided not to stop him.

Wei Hu brought out breakfast. “Ning-ger, time to eat.”

“Okay.”

Song Ning helped bring the food out from the kitchen. Just then, Chen Cuihua returned, carrying a tall bundle of vines on her back. Song Ning hurriedly stood up to help, but he didn’t know where to start. Wei Hu quickly stepped forward and unloaded the vines. “Mother, didn’t I tell you to gather less?”

“That patch of rattan was growing so well, I just had to gather more.”

Chen Cuihua had risen at dawn to work. With little silver in the household, she felt the pressure. Now that her son Hu-zi had found a husband, they’d need to expand the family soon. Expenses were endless.

She knew how to weave baskets, and these vines were most pliable in spring and autumn—perfect for basketry. Unconsciously, she’d gathered extra.

Chen Cuihua’s back was drenched in sweat from carrying so many vines. Song Ning couldn’t help much, but he hurriedly poured a bowl of hot water and brought it over. “Mother, drink this.”

That single word “Mother” made Chen Cuihua’s heart blossom. She responded happily, “Ah, did Ning-ger sleep well last night?”

Song Ning flushed slightly. “Very well.”

Chen Cuihua drank too, finishing the bowl in two or three gulps. “This is our home now. If you need anything, just tell Hu-zi or me.”

“Mhm.”

Chen Cuihua washed her hands, and the family of three sat down to eat in the main room. Breakfast consisted of mixed-grain steamed buns, a bowl of pickled cucumber slices in the center, and a bowl of cornmeal soup for each person. Only Song Ning had several golden-brown fried dumplings placed before him.

Song Ning felt awkward eating alone and pushed the dumplings toward the center. Wei Hu pushed them back to him. “Those are the ones you left over yesterday.”

Only then did Song Ning stop pushing them away. Though they were a treat, he couldn’t let others eat his leftovers.

Chen Cuihua smiled warmly. “Eat up, Ning-ger. You’ll be heading to town with your brother Hu-zi to sell the deer later. If there’s anything you want to eat, tell Hu-zi to buy it for you.”

“Mhm.”

Chen Cuihua’s eyes darted between the two men. Her Hu-zi really knew how to take care of people. Those dumplings only needed steaming, but her Hu-zi insisted on frying them in oil. With fine flour and rich oil, the dumplings turned golden brown—how could they not be delicious?

Her Hu-zi truly cherished his husband. What nonsense about being unlucky for wives? Pah! Look at Ning-ger now—he’s perfectly fine.

After eating, Song Ning offered to wash the dishes, but Wei Hu had already cleared them away. He then went to the backyard to let out the deer. Its front leg was broken, and it could only barely touch the ground.

Chen Cuihua handed Song Ning a small wicker basket to carry. “We’re out of salt. Go to town later and help your mother buy some.”

“Got it.”

Wei Hu had already hoisted the deer onto his shoulder. “Mom, we’re heading to town.”

“Alright. Take it slow on the road. Keep an eye on Ning-ger. Don’t just plod along on your own. Rest if you get tired.”

“Got it.”

Wei Hu set off with the deer on his shoulder, and Song Ning hurried after them.

He followed Wei Hu step by step. Wei Hu’s strides were long, forcing Song Ning to jog to keep up. Wei Hu glanced back over his shoulder at the deer he carried. Seeing the slight blush on the person beside him, he slowed his pace.

When Song Ning had come yesterday, his heart had been filled with trepidation, keeping his head down the entire way alongside Chen Cuihua. Today, venturing out again, he curiously scanned his surroundings. The sun was now high in the sky, and smoke was still rising from some households. As far as the eye could see, nearly every home was a mud-brick wall and thatched-roof hut.

“Brother, Brother Hu, did they really use all our family’s silver for my betrothal gifts?”

“No,” Wei Hu cleared his throat. “Things have been tough for the family these past few years. We did have some savings, but the last two marriages wiped them out.”

By saying this, Wei Hu wanted Song Ning to understand that this “widow-maker” reputation was no joke. It hadn’t just taken lives from other families; it had also plunged his own household into hardship. Because of his reputation, his mother endured endless gossip in the village.

“Oh, I see.”

Song Ning obediently followed Wei Hu, carrying his small basket.

As they passed through the village, several men in patched short coats were playing leaf cards by the roadside, laughing and joking in a lively group. Spotting Wei Hu approaching with the deer on his shoulders, they all looked up.

“Wow, what a big deer!”

One of the younger men grinned at the pair. “Brother Hu-zi, off to town to sell your catch? This must be your wife, right? Nice to meet you, sister-in-law.”

Wei Hu paused and grunted in acknowledgment. Turning to Song Ning, he said, “This is Sun Dazhuang from the village.”

Song Ning obediently called him Brother Dazhuang, making the man smile sheepishly. “My husband will invite you to play sometime. My son Qiu’er is free these days.”

Song Ning nodded and smiled back at him.

Song Ning was naturally beautiful, and the young men weren’t much older than him, some were newly married, others still bachelors. Such a smile from Song Ning made the boisterous lads blush.

Li Gui’er whistled lewdly at Song Ning. Startled, Song Ning quickly tugged Wei Hu’s sleeve and hid behind him.

Wei Hu’s face darkened. He kicked Li Gui’er hard in the shins, nearly sending him sprawling. Li Gui’er yelped, “Brother Hu-zi, what’s this about? I was just messing around with my little sister-in-law!”

“I’m messing around with you, too.”

Song Ning frowned. Li Gui’er calling him “little sister-in-law” carried a hint of teasing that made him uncomfortable.

Wei Hu shouldered the deer and walked away, shifting his body to shield Song Ning on the other side.

Only after they’d walked a few steps did Wei Hu speak up. “That Sun Dazhuang over there is a brother I’ve known since childhood. He’s a good guy. His husband just married into the family this year—he’s a year older than you. I’ll bring you over to hang out with his husband sometime.”

“Mhm.”

“That Li Gui’er is Li Guifen’s son. He lives not far from us—you saw his mother yesterday. His mom and our mom don’t get along. Just avoid her from now on.”

Song Ning nodded obediently. “I know. I won’t play with his family.”