That night, Wu Wei lay feeling exhaustion in every part of her body, yet sleep eluded her for a long time.
The Embroider Maiden cradled in her arms had already drifted off, sleeping soundly.
In a place bereft of nearly all modern technology, simply getting by was far more grueling than Wu Wei had ever imagined. When she had stayed temporarily at the Charity Mortuary before, she hadn’t felt this drained—but that hadn’t been living; it had been mere survival.
Before bed, Wu Wei and the Embroider Maiden had talked at length. From her words, Wu Wei could sense the Embroider Maiden’s guilt and unease. The Embroider Maiden felt it was unfair that most of the family’s burdens had fallen on Wu Wei’s shoulders. She was desperate to shoulder the load herself, but reality offered no such chance.
They were simply too poor—poor to the point where two people shared a single quilt and a single set of padded clothing. The Embroider Maiden was still wearing thin shoes, and her body desperately needed care. Otherwise, just her menstrual cramps would torment her for years to come. Everyone knew you needed more layers in the cold weather, but they had nothing—nothing at all!
Listening to the Embroider Maiden’s guilty words, Wu Wei’s heart ached too. She knew full well that the Embroider Maiden never sat idle whenever Wu Wei stepped out. The house was always spotless, the water jar perpetually full, hot meals waiting every evening, and the stack of split firewood in the yard growing ever taller. Weren’t those the Embroider Maiden’s contributions?
“The people suffer whether the realm rises or falls.” The phrase flashed unbidden through Wu Wei’s mind. What she had experienced these past days struck deeper than anything in the history books or dramas she had ever consumed. She and the Embroider Maiden were the epitome of ancient commoners—impoverished folk even more fragile than the average peasant household.
An ordinary small farm family at least had able-bodied workers and enough land for self-sufficiency. She and the Embroider Maiden lacked even those bare essentials.
Their capacity to weather any “accident” was virtually nil. They were young and hale, which was a mercy—for under their current circumstances, a single illness could shatter the household entirely.
Ancient society was brutally harsh on families like theirs. They labored diligently from dawn to dusk, yet even basic necessities remained luxuries beyond reach.
They could afford staple grains, but not the fine stuff. Vegetables? Just the usual trio of radishes, cabbage, and potatoes. Meat was possible, but only if they hunted it themselves. Clothing they had, but nothing seasonally appropriate like padded coats—not to mention the fox-fur mantles, greatcloaks, and leather boots that every transmigrator in those stories seemed to own. The prices for such things were staggeringly extravagant!
What terrified Wu Wei most, though, wasn’t the poverty itself. It was that she and the Embroider Maiden had already poured every ounce of their strength into labor—every possible task—and could barely sustain even this meager level of existence.
Wu Wei longed to go back—to return to the modern world and live as a happy slacker. It would be worlds better than scraping by as a dirt-poor landowner here!
Yet she couldn’t help worrying: What would happen to the Embroider Maiden if she left?
Would the mountain roads to the market prove dangerous? Would someone from the Liu Family—or some ill-intentioned stranger—take advantage of her? What if she fell ill? With the house empty… What if someone learned her routines and ransacked their hard-hoarded savings while she was away?
Wu Wei felt ensnared by an invisible net, with no escape in sight.
No matter what, though, earning more money could never hurt. Until she found a way back across worlds, that was all Wu Wei could do: strengthen this little household’s defenses against misfortune and its ability to protect itself. Only then could the Embroider Maiden hope to survive in such a merciless world.
…
Wu Wei made two more trips to the market, finishing the Embroider Maiden’s padded coat. At her firm insistence, the Embroider Maiden also made herself a pair of thick-soled shoes. Their family savings had grown to thirty-five wen.
This morning, just as dawn was breaking, the Embroider Maiden and Wu Wei dressed neatly and set off, each carrying two large fish. Following Second Lady Liu’s example, they wrapped coarse cloth around their necks and faces to fend off the biting chill wind.
After inquiring along the way, they finally reached Second Lady Liu’s marital home by noon. The Embroider Maiden broke into a genuine smile.
It was her first visit. She had been too young during her sister’s wedding to join the procession, left behind to watch the house while the Eldest Sister handled most arrangements. Second Sister’s courtyard wasn’t as spacious as their family home, but its walls stood sturdy. Neat stacks of firewood lined one side, along with a towering pile of grain, two large jars of pickled vegetables, and a flock of chickens.
Two rooms made up the interior, built of fresh mud and thatch, with chimney smoke curling invitingly skyward. Second Sister was clearly faring well, and the knowledge warmed the Embroider Maiden to her core.
“Embroider Maiden, wait here. I’ll check if this is Second Sister’s place.”
“All right.”
Wu Wei approached the door and rapped lightly on the firewood gate, then called out at the top of her lungs, “Is this the Zhang Family home? Second Sister? Second Brother-in-law?”
Second Lady Liu recognized Wu Wei’s voice at once. She set down her chopsticks, slipped into her shoes, and poked her head out from the west room. Seeing her own sister and Wu Wei outside, she hurried forth. “What are you doing out in this freezing weather? Come in, quick!” The elders in the east room heard the commotion too, and Second Lady Liu’s mother-in-law appeared at the door. “Who’s there?”
“It’s my sister from home and her friend, Ma. It’s cold out—go back to your meal. I’ll get them settled in the west room with some food first, then they can pay respects to you and Father.”
“Oh, all right.” Second Lady Liu’s mother-in-law retreated inside.
The Embroider Maiden called out warmly, “Second Sister!” and handed over the fish. Second Lady Liu beamed from ear to ear, glancing back toward the east room—though her mother-in-law had already gone.
“You come visit and bring gifts? In the dead of winter… Tsk, fresh fish! So thoughtful!” she called loudly enough for all to hear, then looped an arm around the Embroider Maiden’s and led her inside.
“Wu girl, come on in. Haven’t eaten yet, have you? Perfect timing!”
A low kang table sat atop the kang, laden with steamed potatoes and sweet potatoes, a bowl of sauce, cabbage stewed with tofu, and golden cornbread. Second Brother-in-Law was nowhere in sight, though his place was set with utensils, half a potato, and a cornbread with two bites taken out—likely called away mid-meal.
“You two sit. I’ll fry up some eggs for you.”
“Second Sister, no need to trouble yourself—this is plenty!” the Embroider Maiden said.
“Nonsense! What did your Second Brother-in-Law and I eat when we visited you? I wasn’t prepared today, but a few eggs are the least I can do!” Without waiting for protest, Second Lady Liu bustled out.
She grabbed six eggs in one go. Even if her mother-in-law spotted her now, she wouldn’t care!
Second Lady Liu was overjoyed. She had endured no small share of her mother-in-law’s backbiting over the years, though her father-in-law was kindly and never one to speak out of turn. Her natal family had never once come calling with gifts or rituals—a true case of “married daughters being like spilled water.” Holidays saw her carrying provisions back home instead, and with no children to show for it after all these years, her mother-in-law’s grumbling had only grown.
Last time, upon hearing her youngest sister had been split off into her own household, Second Lady Liu had rushed over with aid despite the chill reception at home. Her mother-in-law had scowled fiercely. But the hearty meal at the Embroider Maiden’s—fine milled rice and flour, fish and meat despite their straits—had drawn lavish praise from Zhang Shuisheng afterward. He called them mannerly and righteous folk. Only then had her mother-in-law held her tongue. Now, with the Embroider Maiden and Wu Wei bringing fresh fish to visit amid the winter freeze—what household could boast such a delicacy, rarer even than fine rice? A few eggs were a small price!
With that thought, Second Lady Liu snatched two more eggs.
She chopped a thick scallion into segments and beat the eggs, just about to ladle lard into the pan when the Embroider Maiden appeared at her side. “Second Sister, hold off for now. Wait until Second Brother-in-Law returns?”
Second Lady Liu paused, then smiled. “Fair enough. The village head summoned him—should be back any moment.”
“Then let’s all eat together when he arrives.”
The sisters returned to the room, where the Embroider Maiden asked anxiously, “Second Sister, why aren’t you eating with them in the other room?” Not sharing meals smacked of a household division—and with Zhang Shuisheng as the only son while his parents lived, it would invite no end of village gossip. The Embroider Maiden knew as much.
Second Lady Liu patted her hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry. The east room where the old folks sleep is an old build—the kang’s too narrow. With a table on it, four people would be cramped. Father and your brother-in-law aren’t fussy, and the womenfolk join the table too. This west room of ours was built just before the wedding, with space left for children to come. It’s roomier. Usually they eat over here with us, but winter’s turned bitter, Father’s legs pain him, and your brother-in-law hates making him traipse back and forth. So we agreed they’d eat in their room—I cook and carry it over. Same food for all. Nothing to fret about.”
“Second Niang! Where’s that red paper of ours? Fetch it quick!” came Zhang Shuisheng’s hale bellow from the yard. Second Lady Liu called back an acknowledgment and stepped outside.
Wu Wei sidled close and whispered slyly, “See that? If you don’t take good care of your health now, your legs might give out in old age too—pure misery!”
Embroider Maiden shot Wu Wei a playful glare. Only after her own Second Sister had stepped out the door did she finally relax, lowering her voice to whisper, “You’d better not let Second Brother-in-law hear you say that!”
“Don’t worry,” Wu Wei replied. “I’m not an idiot.”
Zhang Shuisheng had heard that Embroider Maiden and Wu Wei had dropped by with four fresh fish tails. A smile lit up his eyes as he stepped into the room and called out to them cheerfully, “Sisters, want to go watch the fun? Scholar Zhang is writing Spring Festival couplets for everyone over at the village head’s place!”
“Count me in!” Wu Wei shot to her feet with a whoosh. Embroider Maiden rose too, though worry clouded her face. She hadn’t shown her face in a crowd for ages, and the memory of children hurling stones at her back then still sent a shiver of dread through her heart.
Wu Wei grabbed Embroider Maiden’s hand and tugged her forward, her smile bright as sunshine. “Second Brother-in-law, we want to go! Take us with you!”
“Come on, Second Niang—where’s the red paper? You find it yet?”
“Coming, coming! It’s in Mom and Dad’s room. Here you go!” Second Lady Liu handed the rolled-up red paper to Zhang Shuisheng.
“Second Niang, you coming along?” Zhang Shuisheng asked.
“What, just to watch him scribble a few lame words? It’s the same ones every year. Nah, I’m staying put. If Mom and Dad need someone later, we can’t have the house empty.”
