Repairing the old house was a massive project, just as Wu Wei had imagined.
However, her original plan hadn’t accounted for Embroider Maiden at all. Wu Wei was delighted to discover that Embroider Maiden was an exceptionally quick study. When it came to fixing up the house, she began by only knowing how to mix mud, but with just a bit of explanation from Wu Wei, she understood right away. After a few attempts, she had it down pat. Working together seamlessly, the two finished the basic repairs in just over ten days—right before the weather turned bitterly cold. Now the old house was livable.
Wu Wei also saw in Embroider Maiden a stubborn resilience that modern people rarely possessed. If one try didn’t work, she’d attempt it ten times; if ten failed, then a hundred. Impatience never crossed her face, nor did any thought of cutting corners.
Wu Wei mused to herself: Was this the charm of ancient folk? Without modern tech or ready substitutes, they threw themselves wholeheartedly at their goals? But then again, maybe not… If everyone were like Embroider Maiden, who would ever fail? I should learn from her.
On the final day of repairs, Wu Wei worked inside while Embroider Maiden handled the outside. Together, they pasted up the window paper. The moment they slid open the window, their eyes met, and radiant smiles bloomed on both their faces.
This was Wu Wei and Embroider Maiden’s shared “first”—the first time they’d completed such a monumental task.
“All set. It’ll dry overnight. I’ll fire up the kang to chase away the chill, and we can move in first thing tomorrow morning!”
“These past days, I never could have done it without you, Miss Wu. Without your help… it would have been impossible,” Embroider Maiden said sincerely.
“Hey, I had nothing better to do anyway. Finishing the house before the snow hits makes me happy too. Tonight, let’s celebrate with some roast meat~”
…
After dinner, Embroider Maiden hesitated for a long while before finally inviting Wu Wei to live with her. Wu Wei agreed without a second thought and took the initiative to explain, “Truth be told, I don’t even know how much longer I’ll be here. I’m searching nearby for something really important. Once I find it, I can go home. Sorry to impose on you until then, Miss Liu.”
“You’re older than me, Miss Wu. Just call me Embroider Maiden.”
“Alright, Embroider Maiden. Then you call me Weiwei— that’s what my family and friends do.”
“Okay, Weiwei… sis.”
“Weiwei’s fine; it’s nicer that way.” Wu Wei couldn’t help grumbling inwardly: This Miss Liu was centuries older than her, maybe even millennia. Calling her “Embroider Maiden” was already bold enough; she sure couldn’t handle being called “sis.”
After dinner and cleanup, they settled in for the night—Wu Wei in her coffin, Embroider Maiden on a mat by the campfire. With the tension finally easing from her heart, Embroider Maiden slept deeply. She vaguely cracked her eyes open once, her whole body feeling light and floaty, her head pounding like it might split.
She seemed to glimpse Wu Wei, whose face was etched with worry. Embroider Maiden forced a smile, trying to reassure her: Don’t worry, I’ll get up. But her eyelids refused to cooperate.
“Embroider Maiden? Embroider Maiden!” Wu Wei’s worst fear had come true: Embroider Maiden was sick.
That morning, Wu Wei had sensed something off. Touching her forehead confirmed it, and Wu Wei’s heart sank.
She bundled Embroider Maiden in a quilt and carried her to the old house. The window paper was fully dry by then. Wu Wei sealed the doors and windows tight, then shoveled more wood into the stove.
Embroider Maiden was burning with fever and barely conscious. Wu Wei pressed a clean damp cloth to her forehead and managed to get a bowl of warm water down her throat. She changed the cloth several times before the fever eased even slightly.
“This won’t cut it… Forgive me, Embroider Maiden.” Wu Wei slipped a hand into her bosom and pulled out half a string of copper coins.
Clutching the coins, Wu Wei gazed anxiously at Embroider Maiden on the bed—brows knitted tight, murmuring in her sleep. A round trip to the market… even sprinting would take about an hour. But without a doctor and medicine, recovery on her own seemed unlikely given her frail build.
Wu Wei ladled another bowl of warm water and cradled Embroider Maiden halfway upright. “Embroider Maiden, here… drink some water.”
“Mom~ I don’t want to split the family.”
“Eldest Sister, don’t make me leave—I can work…”
“Dad…”
Tears streamed from her eyes at some heartbreaking point in the dream, twisting Wu Wei’s heart.
With a soft sigh, Wu Wei murmured soothingly, “Don’t be scared, Embroider Maiden. Hardship doesn’t last forever. You’re so hardworking; good days are sure to come.”
Whether it was the words or something else, Embroider Maiden’s tears gradually stopped, her furrowed brow relaxing. Wu Wei pinched her nose and coaxed her through another bowl of warm water, then tucked the quilt snugly around her before heading out.
The mountain path was treacherous, but Wu Wei raced to the apothecary. Three young apprentices manned the medicine cabinets: one chopping herbs, one measuring them out, the third clicking away on an abacus.
Wu Wei stepped up to the chopper. “Excuse me, is the doctor available?”
“Master’s with a patient in the back hall. Have a seat, miss.”
“I wanted to ask… how much for a house call?”
“Two hundred wen for the visit, plus the prescription fee.”
“And if the patient can’t come here? Could you write a prescription?”
“I’m too new an apprentice to decide. Senior Brother!”
The one measuring set down his scale. “What’re the symptoms?”
“A chill—feverish.”
“Any vomiting or loose stools?”
“No.”
“Then this ready-made Wind-Dispelling Powder should do.” He fetched a packet from the labeled drawer and passed it over. “Boil eight bowls of water down to one. A bowl each morning, noon, and evening.”
“How much?”
“Eighty wen.”
Wu Wei bit her lip and set the copper coins—gripped tight the whole way—on the counter. “This is all I have: sixty-five wen, my entire savings. My friend’s desperately ill, out cold. Could you ask the doctor for a little leeway? I’ll bring the rest as soon as I can.”
“Hold on; I’ll check with Master.”
He returned shortly with the packet. “Master says yes. Hope your friend recovers soon.”
“Thank you!” Wu Wei tucked the medicine into her bosom, cast one last glance at the shop’s sign, and hurried away.
She sped back to the old house. Embroider Maiden was still out. Wu Wei soaked the forehead cloth in cold water and reapplied it.
She built a fire, set the pot per instructions, and decocted the medicine—eight bowls reduced to one—then fed it to her. By now, Wu Wei’s stomach was rumbling loudly.
She chopped some cabbage leaves and thin meat slices into a stew, slapping two palm-sized millet pancakes along the pot’s edge. When everything was ready, she ate lunch while stealing glances at the rice jar in the kitchen corner—the white rice she’d bought, still sealed.
Over four years of university, Wu Wei had never gone home. Vacations meant half-guided treks, where she’d honed her outdoor survival skills. This world’s natural bounty far outstripped Blue Star’s, so she had no trouble surviving. The one thing she couldn’t get used to? Not a single bite of white rice since arriving. What had been a daily staple was now an unaffordable luxury.
Wu Wei pulled her eyes away and crumbled her last half-pancake into the veggie soup, soaking it up before eating.
…
Embroider Maiden felt like she’d dreamed an endlessly long dream, stitching away without cease while pleading with her Eldest Sister not to cast her out… After grueling hours of labor, her late father called her over to eat. The staple? A full bowl of white rice!
Old Man Liu’s gaze held helpless affection as he urged her to eat more.
“Dad…” Embroider Maiden’s eyes fluttered open. Dazed for a moment, she recalled her current reality. This wasn’t her childhood home, nor the Charity Mortuary.
Focusing, she realized she was in the old house…
“Cough cough cough…” She struggled to sit up, dizziness triggering a coughing fit.
Wu Wei hurried in, her face lighting up. “You’re awake!”
“Wu… Weiwei.”
“Yeah, still got a slight fever. One more dose tonight, and you should be good.” Wu Wei pressed the back of her hand to Embroider Maiden’s forehead.
“How did I get here? Was I sick? How long was I out?”
“It’s almost dusk now. You spiked a fever and slept the better part of the day. I made you some porridge—hang on.”
Wu Wei slipped out and returned with a steaming bowl of white rice porridge. Embroider Maiden’s eyes went wide, staring in stunned silence at Wu Wei.
“Perfect texture. Gotta eat up to build your strength. Want me to feed you?”
“What’s wrong? Why the tears?” Wu Wei sat beside her, full of concern.
Embroider Maiden sniffed, whispering, “This is too extravagant.”
Seeing her flushed cheeks and teary eyes, Wu Wei was momentarily at a loss for words. Ever since deciding to become an archaeologist, she’d pored over texts and odd histories. She knew well enough: In poor ancient farm families, polished white rice was reserved for the main breadwinner. Other household members were lucky to get it unmixed with coarser grains even on holidays.
But knowing it from books was worlds apart from witnessing it firsthand in a living person. Wu Wei silently scooped up a spoonful of porridge and coaxed gently, “You’re head of the household now. How’s a bit of porridge extravagant? Come on… open up.”
“So sweet, so smooth~ It’s truly delicious.” Tears glistened in Embroider Maiden’s eyes as she praised it over and over, further confirming the guess in Wu Wei’s heart: this was the first time Embroider Maiden had tasted white rice unmixed with any coarse grains.
“Weiwei, you should have a little too?”
“I’ve already eaten. This whole bowl is yours.”
…
After downing the bowl of hot porridge, Embroider Maiden’s complexion improved noticeably. Wu Wei then boiled some medicine and helped her drink it. Clutching the bowl, Embroider Maiden felt a surge of inner panic and unease—this was a luxury she had never enjoyed before.
In her mind, a minor ailment like hers hardly warranted medicine. Yet she didn’t dare voice her thoughts, fearing she might hurt Wu Wei’s kind intentions and wound her heart.
Embroider Maiden could scarcely imagine just how affluent Wu Wei’s former life must have been to make such indulgences possible. She couldn’t help glancing once more at Wu Wei’s slender fingers, pale as spring onions, and silently steeled her resolve.
