“Now that the two families are at odds—with the Song family demanding a divorce and repayment of the debt—how could Zhao Qingshu possibly agree? He says if they waive the debt, he’ll grant the divorce; if they insist on repayment, he won’t divorce her.”

Song Ning let out a cold laugh. “Zhao Qingshu isn’t stupid after all—he’s trying to have it both ways. It’s over a dozen taels of silver; how could he and his old mother possibly pay it back on their own?”

“You’re right. Zhao Qingshu looks like an honest guy, but who would’ve thought he’d be so scheming? Now the two families are in such a fierce dispute—half the town knows about it.”

Compared to the Song family, Song Ning disliked Zhao Qingshu even more—a petty, self-serving scoundrel who would sacrifice loyalty for profit. Let the two families fight it out; Wu Cai’e was a formidable woman, and Zhao Qingshu wouldn’t get the better of her.

Song Ning got up and went to the school to check on the children. The little ones were all sitting upright, quietly copying their lessons. Seeing this, Song Ning’s heart melted.

After school, Song Ning took Lan-ger by the hand and headed home. The little ones waved at him, calling out, “Teacher, goodbye!”

The little ones, with their small backpacks slung over their shoulders, ran off laughing and chattering. Song Ning smiled and told them to slow down a bit.

The two walked home in the late afternoon sunlight. At the entrance to the alley, a few children were chattering away as they played with bamboo rings. Yan-ger called out to Lan-ger, “Lan-ger, you’re back! Come play with us!”

“I’m going home for dinner.” As soon as Lan-ger reached the entrance of the alley, he saw smoke rising from his family’s kitchen—his grandmother was already home cooking.

The two walked home together. Chen Cuihua was busy in the kitchen—Song Ning couldn’t tell what she was making—but as soon as he stepped into the courtyard, he caught a whiff of a sour smell. “Mom, what are you making?”

“I picked some pickled cabbage and made some pickled cabbage fish. It’ll be ready in a minute.”

Song Ning went into the kitchen to help tend the fire. Rice was steaming in a large iron pot, while a small iron pot nearby was bubbling with a potful of pickled cabbage. His mother was just tossing in slices of fish—the aroma was incredibly tempting.

Though the sun hadn’t set yet, it was already getting a bit chilly in the courtyard. The three of them sat in the light by the kitchen doorway to eat: a bowl of pickled cabbage fish, a bowl of steamed pork with taro, and a basket of cornmeal-mixed steamed buns.

Life at home was good now; they never lacked food. Meat appeared on the table every day, and high-quality rice and white flour were always available—it was even better than what they’d eaten back home.

Song Ning especially loved that bowl of pickled cabbage and fish. His mother’s pickled cabbage was exceptionally crisp, and mixed with dried red chili peppers, it had a tangy, spicy flavor. Song Ning scooped up a small bowlful of the broth to drink.

Chen Cuihua picked up a piece of sliced pork with her chopsticks and offered it to him. “Why are you just eating fish today, Ning-ger? Have some meat—eat a little more.”

Song Ning caught the slice with a cornbread bun. “Okay.”

Lan-ger also liked to eat meat; his grandmother’s steamed meat was delicious. When he put it inside a cornbread bun and took a bite, it was incredibly fragrant.

Today, Song Ning found the bowl of steamed pork with taro a bit greasy. His mother served him a piece; he took a bite with his steamed cornbread and felt a bit queasy, so he hurriedly ran outside.

Chen Cuihua gasped, “What’s wrong?”

Lan-ger also quickly put down the steamed bun he was holding and patted Song Ning on the back. “Little Dad, what’s wrong?”

Song Ning rinsed his mouth. “It’s nothing—I just think the meat has a slightly fishy smell.”

Hearing this, Chen Cuihua took a bite herself. “No, it doesn’t. This pork belly was delivered today by Butcher Wang—I specifically set it aside.”

All the meat in the shop came from Butcher Wang in town. His business was booming—his family slaughtered a whole pig every day—so the meat was always fresh.

Song Ning sat down and pushed the bowl of greasy meat aside—it looked a bit off-putting—then took two more sips of the sour cabbage and fish soup to settle his stomach. He actually really liked this dish.

“Could it be that it’s gotten cooler lately, and you’ve been catching a chill in your stomach while sleeping at night?”

“Maybe.”

“Then switch to a thicker quilt tonight when you go to bed—don’t let yourself get cold.”

Song Ning obediently nodded; he, too, thought it might be because his stomach had gotten cold while sleeping at night.

As usual, Song Ning ate breakfast early and headed to school. He’d followed his mother’s advice the night before and switched to a thicker quilt—it was even a bit too warm, so he’d stuck his feet out from under the covers while sleeping.

People on the street would occasionally greet Song Ning: “Master Song, off to school?”

“Oh, Auntie, business is pretty good today.”

“It’s not bad, not bad—just enough to make ends meet.”

There weren’t many teachers, and even fewer who taught young gers and girls, so everyone held scholars in particularly high regard.

Chen Cuihua was also bustling about in her shop right now. Things had finally calmed down a bit after the morning market rush. Just then, a young man walked over holding a bowl. “Auntie Chen, are you free for a moment?”

“Oh, Young Huang, you’re here.”

This young man named Huang was the son of a pastry vendor on the street. He often came to the shop to buy breakfast to take home. His family was large, so whenever he came, he’d take seven or eight buns and steamed buns at a time.

After picking out what he wanted for the day, the young man from the Huang family gave a shy smile. “Auntie Chen, my ger wants to try the pickled cabbage from your shop. Could you sell me a bowl?”

Chen Cuihua took the bowl. “Go ahead and help yourself—don’t be so polite.”

On the shop counter stood a large earthenware bowl filled with tangy, spicy, and delicious pickles—meant to cut through the greasiness of the food. It contained Chinese cabbage, radish, long beans, and bamboo shoots. Many customers loved the shop’s pickled chili and cabbage, and some even came specifically for it.

Chen Cuihua scooped out half a bowl and handed it over. “Is that enough? If not, come back for more.”

The young man from the Huang family felt even more embarrassed. “Aunt Chen, to be honest, my Fulang’s been suffering from morning sickness lately. Could you please serve us a little more?”

“Oh, congratulations, congratulations!”

Chen Cuihua hurriedly served up a generous portion, filling the little porcelain bowl to the brim. “Just come back for more when you’re done. A Fulang from our village used to love this when he was pregnant, too.”

The young man from the Huang family was very grateful. When he handed over the wen, he gave two extra. Chen Cuihua told him to take them back, but he hurried off. Even though the pickled peppers and sour cabbage were free side dishes, he’d taken far too much, and he felt he had to give her some wen to make up for it.

Chen Cuihua shook her head with a smile. “That kid’s way too polite.”

Chen Cuihua suddenly realized something and slapped her forehead. “I’m getting so forgetful!”

Chen Cuihua hurriedly handed the chopsticks she was holding to Zhang Sanniang. “Sanniang, keep an eye on things for me—I’m stepping out for a moment!”

Before Zhang Sanniang could say a word, Chen Cuihua had already dashed out, without even taking the time to remove the blue cloth apron tied around her waist. Zhang Sanniang was completely baffled. “What’s going on?”

Chen Cuihua rushed frantically to the study, running until she was drenched in sweat. Bai Xiaoyun, who was currently minding the shop alone up front, saw Chen Cuihua coming and called out, “Auntie, what’s the rush?”

Chen Cuihua leaned against the doorframe, panting heavily. “Where’s Ning-ger?”

“Ning-ger is in the back right now, teaching the children to read.”

Bai Xiaoyun poured her a bowl of tea. “Have some water, Auntie. Class won’t be over for a while yet.”

Chen Cuihua didn’t have time to drink the tea before hurrying off to the back. She could hear the children’s clear, crisp voices reading aloud. Afraid of disturbing them, she quietly peered inside through the doorway. There she saw her ger holding a book and reading, while the other little ones stood with their backs straight, following along in unison.

A smile spread across Chen Cuihua’s face as she watched. Lan-ger spotted her and flashed his little white teeth at her. Song Ning also noticed his mother approaching and told the children to keep reading on their own for a while.

“Mom, why are you here?” Song Ning stepped out. He was worried there might be some urgent matter at home—after all, his mother wouldn’t have come over if there weren’t.

Chen Cuihua took Song Ning’s hand. “Ning-ger, are you feeling unwell today?”

“No, I didn’t. I followed your advice yesterday and covered myself with a thicker quilt, so I was a little hot last night.”

“Oh, I’m glad you’re okay. Just keep studying; I’ll wait for you out front.”

“Okay.” Song Ning smiled a little; his mother was making too much of a fuss. It was just that he’d felt a bit under the weather yesterday.

Seeing that Song Ning was fine, Chen Cuihua went to sit up front. Bai Xiaoyun came over to keep her company, but Chen Cuihua felt like time was dragging on. She could only guess what was going on, and her heart was in her throat.

Song Ning came over as soon as class ended. The children were all playing in the backyard; Bai Xiaoyun was leading the next class. “Mom, what’s up?”

“Come on, let’s go out with Mother for a bit.”

Song Ning obediently followed her out. “Mom, what’s going on?”

“Come on, let’s go to the clinic.”

“Mom, I’m already better. I don’t feel sick at all.”

Song Ning thought he’d just caught a chill in his stomach—why would he need to go to the clinic?

Chen Cuihua wouldn’t take no for an answer and dragged Song Ning toward the clinic. There was one not far from the study, and Chen Cuihua had brought Song Ning there in a hurry. “Doctor, please take a look at my son-in-law. He didn’t have much of an appetite yesterday.”

The old doctor stroked his beard, took his pulse, and after a few checks, broke into a smile. “Congratulations—you’re about a month along.”

Chen Cuihua beamed, “Really!”

“It’s a faint sign of pregnancy—how could an old doctor like me possibly misdiagnose it?”

“No, no—I’m just so happy!”

Chen Cuihua hurriedly paid the consultation fee and asked the old doctor to prescribe some donkey-hide gelatin to strengthen his body. Song Ning was still in a daze—he was going to have a little one.

Chen Cuihua carried a bag of tonics—donkey-hide gelatin, red dates, longan, and brown sugar—which had cost her a full three taels of silver. She didn’t have enough on her, so she promised to bring the rest to him later.

The old doctor recognized Song Ning—he was the tutor from the study next door, so he was naturally trustworthy.

Chen Cuihua was beaming with joy. “Huzi isn’t home either, and I’m so busy at the shop right now that I can’t look after you. What are we going to do?”

Only then did Song Ning realize, “Mother, I’m fine.”

Chen Cuihua told Song Ning to be careful and, if he got tired, to ask Bai Xiaoyun to help out a bit more. As they passed by a pastry shop, she bought another packet of flaky pastries—she remembered that Bai Xiaoyun liked them.

She took Song Ning back with her and stayed with him until school let out at noon. Bai Xiaoyun came out from the back and said, “Auntie, you’re still here? Is there something urgent?”

“No, no, no—it’s good news, good news.”

Chen Cuihua handed the pastries to Bai Xiaoyun and told him that Song Ning was now expecting, asking him to be a little more understanding. Bai Xiaoyun gasped, “Doesn’t that mean there’ll be a little baby next year!”

Bai Xiaoyun circled around Song Ning, staring curiously at her belly—little did he know there was a little baby growing inside.

“Then I’ll take on a few more classes.”

“No need. I don’t feel any discomfort—just come as usual.”

Song Ning had no intention of letting Bai Xiaoyun take on more classes for him. After all, the study hadn’t charged him rent to begin with, and Bai Xiaoyun and his father had been very kind to him.

Lan-ger had overheard the conversation and, tilting his fresh-faced little head, asked, “Daddy, am I going to have a little brother?”

Song Ning ruffled Lan-ger’s hair. “That’s right. Our Lan-ger is going to be a big brother.”

Song Ning thought of Wei Hu. If Brother Wei Hu found out, he’d surely be delighted. Song Ning’s expression softened involuntarily; though Brother Wei Hu might seem a bit rough around the edges, he had a very thoughtful heart.

Chen Cuihua was still grinning from ear to ear. It was just past noon when school let out, so she walked home with Song Ning. “It’s all Mom’s fault,” she said. “I should’ve noticed yesterday. When I was pregnant with your brother Huzi, I didn’t have morning sickness—I was just so sleepy that I didn’t realize what was going on at the time.”

Chen Cuihua chattered on about what had happened with the Huang family’s son that day. If he hadn’t bought pickled cabbage for his Fulang, she wouldn’t have realized that her Ning-ger might be expecting a child. As a mother, she’d been far too careless.

Song Ning hadn’t expected to be expecting either. He’d always envied Qiu-ger before, but now he was in the same situation. He held Lan-ger’s hand—the little guy, upon learning he was going to be a big brother, was practically skipping down the street.

Chen Cuihua was overjoyed. On the way, she reminded Song Ning a few more times to be careful—there were so many children at the school, and it wouldn’t do for him to get hurt.

“Mom, it’ll be fine. The school’s full of little gers and girls—they’re all well-behaved.”

The gers usually played together in a tight group—picking up pebbles, throwing beanbags, and kicking shuttlecocks—and compared to the gers who ran around recklessly, they were much better behaved.

Chen Cuihua was still worried, but she didn’t bring up asking Song Ning to have Yun-ger look after the school for a while—she knew her own ger would never agree to that.

The three of them walked home together, and Chen Cuihua hurried off to cook. “Ning-ger, what would you like to eat? Mother will make it for you.”

“Mom, I’d like to have the sour fish soup from yesterday.”

“Sure, Mother will go buy the ingredients right away!”

Chen Cuihua hurried out carrying a basket. These days, their family shop stayed open until the afternoon, so Ning-ger and Lan-ger would both eat at the market at noon after school. Chen Cuihua had suggested that Song Ning go to the shop to have something prepared just for them, but Song Ning thought it was too much trouble and preferred to eat the same food at the market.

Chen Cuihua thought to herself that since her son was expecting a child now, no matter how much trouble it might be, she would squeeze out some time to cook the meal herself—after all, she wanted Ning-ger to enjoy his meal.

Chen Cuihua was practically humming a little tune as she headed out. She picked out a lively, wriggling big blue carp at the market, then stopped by the tofu lady’s stall to buy some tofu and bean sprouts. Worried that Song Ning might be hungry, she hurried back home.

Lunch was, as always, the sour fish soup that Song Ning could never get enough of. It was served over a bed of bean sprouts, tofu, and tofu skin. The fish broth was a rich golden yellow, and the fish slices, having been simmered until the edges curled like white jade, were topped with dried chili peppers and Sichuan peppercorns. When hot oil was poured over them, the aroma wafted far and wide.

Paired with a bowl of white rice doused in fish broth, it was both appetizing and refreshing.

Just the tangy aroma made Song Ning’s mouth water; he polished off two bowls of rice. Chen Cuihua beamed as she watched him. “Ning-ger, from now on, come by the shop after school lets out at noon, and I’ll cook a special meal just for you and Lan-ger.”

Song Ning nodded obediently. He didn’t want to trouble his mother with cooking at noon, so he usually took Lan-ger to eat at the market. He liked the chicken soup, wontons, and vermicelli noodles sold there, but eating them too often made him feel sick of them; he still preferred the home-cooked meals his mother made.

Song Ning took a short nap at home, then took Lan-ger back to school. Even though they now had a little baby, it didn’t keep him from going to school. He planned to ask Yun Ge’er to look after things at school when the baby was eight months old—but it was still too early for that.

Chen Cuihua wasn’t idle that afternoon either. This was a joyous occasion—a new addition to the family. Her own family was small; the last time Qiu-ger celebrated his little ger’s one-month birthday, the little ger was a soft, squishy bundle, cooing and waving his tiny hands. It would be a lie to say she wasn’t envious.

Thankfully, she’d planted some cotton this year—it would be ready to use next year. Then she could make swaddling clothes, little cotton jackets, and shoes for her own little one; fresh cotton was the softest of all.

Chen Cuihua couldn’t wait to go to the fabric shop and pick out some nice cloth, but then she thought that Ning-ger was still too young this month. If she went to the shop now to buy fine cotton fabric, they’d inevitably ask her a few questions. It wouldn’t be too late to go pick out the fabric once Ning-ger was a bit older.

Still, Chen Cuihua wanted to take a look at the fabric shop first. She still needed to make two sets of cotton clothes for Lan-ger this year, so she might as well see if they had any fabric suitable for small children while she was there—that way, she’d have a better idea of what to expect.

Song Ning, on the other hand, was much more level-headed than Chen Cuihua. When he first heard that the family would be welcoming a new addition next year, he was certainly happy at first, but his excitement faded within a couple of days. After all, they already had Lan’er at home; he couldn’t let the child feel neglected just because a little brother was on the way.

Song Ning thought back to his own childhood. Back then, when Song Youcheng was born, his father had inevitably neglected him a bit. Thinking of his father, Song Ning couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh.

Lan-ger heard Song Ning sigh and poked his little head out from under the covers. “Little Dad, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I was just thinking about my dad.”

Lan’er shifted closer to Song Ning and rested his head on Song Ning’s palm. “Lan’er only had Grandpa, but now Lan’er has a dad and a stepdad.”

Song Ning ran his fingers through Lan-ger’s hair. The little one’s hair used to be a bit dry and yellowish, but after taking care of him for all this time, it had become much smoother. “Mm-hmm. Our Lan-ger is going to be a big brother soon.”

A smile spread across Lan-ger’s face. “Mm-hmm! Lan-ger will protect his little brother!”

“Lan’er will always be Little Daddy’s good boy.”

Lan-ger giggled twice and shifted a little closer to Song Ning’s side; he liked his “little dad.”

Before he knew it, the leaves had all fallen from the trees. The courtyard had been swept over and over again, and finally, no more leaves were falling. The weather had turned cold, and Song Ning had already put on a light jacket.

The first snow of the year hadn’t fallen yet, but it should be coming soon. Once it snowed, the weather would turn cold. School had ended last month, and winter break had begun—he wondered when Brother Wei Hu would return.

Chen Cuihua had just returned from the shop, carrying a basket filled with snacks. “Ning-ger, step inside a bit—it’s freezing out in that draft.”

Song Ning took a step back. “Mom, Brother Wei Hu should be coming back soon, right?”

“He should be back soon—it’ll only be a matter of a few days.”

Before long, snow began to flutter down. It wasn’t heavy—tiny snowflakes fell one by one. Chen Cuihua had gotten up early, but it wasn’t until dawn that she noticed the snow. Since the roads were slippery in the snow, Chen Cuihua was worried it would be difficult for Song Ning to get to school, so she hurriedly asked Zhang Sanniang to look after him while she went home to check on things.

Zhang Sanniang teased, “Auntie, I’ve never seen you be so doting on anyone before.”

Every day at noon, she’d prepare two special dishes just for him, and as soon as the weather turned cold, the small earthenware pot of soup was always on the table. Even though Ning-ger had married into a rural family by then, his family still treated him very well.

Chen Cuihua said with a smile, “I won’t keep it a secret from you, Sanniang—Ning-ger is expecting. It’s not even been three months yet. It snowed today, and he’s going to school again, so I’ll walk him there.”

Zhang Sanniang gasped, “Ning-ger is expecting? You’ll have to be extra careful. It’s been freezing this morning—the roads are all icy.”

“You’re right. Sanniang, please keep an eye on him. I’m going home to check on things.”

“All right, Auntie, you go on then.”

Chen Cuihua lifted a clay pot off the small stove in the kitchen. Today she’d made a soup with eggs and meat patties; whenever the weather turned cold, she liked to simmer a small clay pot of soup—it warmed her up.

Chen Cuihua placed the two earthenware pots in a basket lined with straw and carried them home. Passing by the market, she bought a few palm-sized lamb patties—eating the same breakfast from her own shop every day could get tiresome, so it was nice to switch things up a bit.

When Chen Cuihua returned, Song Ning was washing his face in the kitchen with Lan-ger. Seeing his mother come back, Song Ning greeted her, “Mom, why are you back so early?”

“It’s snowing. I’ll walk you to school.”

Song Ning felt a warm glow in his heart. “Mom, I’ll be careful.”

“Are you done washing up? Come eat once you’re ready—the earthenware pot’s still too hot to handle.”

Song Ning and Ning-ger went to eat. Chen Cuihua watched Song Ning eat heartily and felt happy. Ning-ger was a bit thin, and with all the thick winter clothes he was wearing, you couldn’t tell at all that he was expecting a child.

“When school lets out at noon, you and Lan’er wait at the schoolhouse—I’ll bring you lunch.”

“It’s okay, Mother. The shop is so busy—you don’t need to run back and forth. I’ll just be careful on my way over.”

“Be careful—the roads are slippery in this snow.”

Song Ning didn’t argue with his mother any further. After finishing his meal, he put on his hood, and the group set off for the school together. After seeing Song Ning off, Chen Cuihua hurried back to the shop to tend to business.

This was the busiest time of day. As soon as the weather turned cold, more people came to drink meatball soup. In the last few days, they’d also introduced a new item: clay pot soup. At six wen a pot, it was quite popular.

It had originally been prepared for Song Ning, but when customers in the shop saw it, they wanted to try it. Unexpectedly, it sold very well. Since it was cooked in small earthenware pots, they simply called it “Clay Pot Soup.”

Now that it had turned cold, the schoolhouse was heated with charcoal, and the little ones could stretch out comfortably. Last winter, when he was at home, they’d burned firewood indoors, but since firewood produces smoke, Song Ning simply bought some charcoal instead. Although it wasn’t the best quality, it burned much better than firewood.

The schoolhouse was nice and warm, and the little ones sat quietly, holding their brushes and practicing calligraphy. The morning flew by in the blink of an eye.

It had started snowing lightly early that morning, and by now there was a thin layer on the ground. The children had been picked up by their families, and Song Ning was waiting inside for his mother to bring him lunch.

Bai Xiaoyun was also inside, warming his hands by the charcoal fire. His dad was going to make noodles for lunch today, but his dad’s cooking skills weren’t even as good as his own. “If it weren’t for the fact that my dad and I are such lousy cooks, we wouldn’t need Aunt Cuihua to come over and bring you lunch again. It’s such a hassle.”

“It’s all the same. School will be out for winter break in a few days. When you have some free time, come over to my place and hang out.”

“You don’t have to tell me that. Watching the shop is pretty boring.”