Chapter 83: Wu Wei’s Worries

Wu Wei’s heart still fluttered with unease. She gazed deeply into the Embroider Maiden’s eyes, as if hoping to find her own reflection in their depths.

A gentle softness flowed in the Embroider Maiden’s eyes, and her smile did not fade as she looked back at Wu Wei.

Wu Wei forced her gaze away. She was just wondering how to steer the conversation elsewhere without hurting anyone’s feelings when Zhang Shuisheng’s acquaintances appeared. They had stationed several half-grown lads along the vital path up the mountain. Spotting Zhang Shuisheng’s return, they all called out greetings.

Wu Wei and the Embroider Maiden knew these men well—they formed the backbone of the house-building crew. Everyone exchanged smiles, and the Embroider Maiden offered a deep curtsy. They responded with clasped hands in salute.

“Brother Shuisheng, no one’s passed through. Go on back without a worry.”

After thanking them, Zhang Shuisheng said, “Good thing you’re all here. Swing by tomorrow—there’s still some work left at the Wu family girl’s place. Red-braised pork to go around.”

“Looks like tomorrow’s a lucky day for our stomachs! These past few days fixing Miss Wu’s and Third Sister’s place, and my mom claims I’ve packed on weight.” The group burst into laughter before waving goodbye. The Embroider Maiden felt her respect for this second brother-in-law deepening even further.

…

Back at the house, Old Lady Zhang came into the yard to help put things in order. She eyed the four hens in the bamboo basket and asked, “You raising these for meat? Or keeping them for eggs?”

Wu Wei replied, “For eggs at first, then we’ll hatch chicks and raise a flock of ten or so. That way, we’ll have a steady supply, and come holidays, we’ll have mountain chickens to roam free.”

Old Lady Zhang chuckled. “My goodness, eggs from hens like these are Yunying eggs—smaller than ordinary ones and tastier to boot. But they won’t hatch into chicks.”

Wu Wei understood at once, thinking to herself that turning knowledge from books into everyday know-how truly required a bit of wisdom…

Smiling, Wu Wei said, “I’ll pick up a handsome big rooster another day. But I’ve heard these Yunying eggs are the most nourishing of all. Later, I’ll send a basket over to you, Auntie.”

Old Lady Zhang’s smile turned warm and fond as she praised Wu Wei for her cleverness and sweet temperament.

…

Sure enough, as Zhang Shuisheng had foreseen, Second Lady Liu’s face fell at the sight of those dishes brought back from Hundred Flavors Building. She rubbed her swollen belly and shot her husband a fierce glare. He just let out a sheepish “hehe,” saying nothing in his defense.

The Embroider Maiden stepped in. “Second Sister, Brother-in-law only had the best intentions. He wants Weiwei and me to live well and prosper from here on out, so he picked hearty meat dishes for luck. Please don’t hold it against him.”

Only then did Second Lady Liu’s expression soften into a smile. She sighed. “These days, my body’s getting heavier by the hour—skipping a meal won’t hurt me. What matters is you and Weiwei starting off on the right foot.”

Wu Wei spoke up. “Second Sister, I’ve arranged for the resident physician from Returning Spring Hall. He’ll come house call in five days to check your pulse.”

Second Lady Liu asked, “I’ve heard house calls come with an extra silver fee?”

“I’m well acquainted with the old gentleman. I brought along a jar of his favorite yellow rice wine, and in his good spirits, he waived the house call charge. Second Brother-in-law just needs to fetch him with the ox cart and bring him back after. The medicine will be billed separately.”

Hearing that the house call was on the house eased Second Lady Liu’s concerns, and she laughed. “Only you could pull that off, little sister. You’ve got the connections and the know-how.”

After lunch, the Embroider Maiden and the old madam busied themselves with needlework in the room. Wu Wei and Zhang Shuisheng shouldered their hoes and stepped out of the yard. Roughly thirty to fifty paces into the back hills, they chose a relatively level spot. “This is the place,” Zhang Shuisheng said. “Any farther and you’re in the woods—seedlings won’t thrive without sunlight, and the veggies won’t taste right.”

“Sounds good. Right here it is.”

They set straight to work. Wu Wei and Zhang Shuisheng began weeding, using the hoes to uproot every blade of grass, roots and all. Zhang Shuisheng noticed Wu Wei’s awkward grip and stance. “Little sister, swing like that and your back’ll give out before long. It’s all about using finesse.”

Wu Wei couldn’t quite get the hang of it, and sure enough, her waist was starting to ache. Zhang Shuisheng had her stand aside while he demonstrated. As he worked, he explained, “Plant your feet front and back for balance so you can ease rearward step by step. Treat the hoe gently—let its own weight do the digging. When that momentum runs out, bring down the next swing. For vegetables, you don’t need deep furrows. A hole just deep enough to cover your palm works fine.”

Enlightenment dawned on Wu Wei. This so-called “borrowing force” and “releasing force” was really just practical physics—inertia at play. Give the hoe acceleration from the right distance, and let momentum do the heavy lifting instead of brute strength…

Wu Wei picked up the hoe again. After a few swings, she found her rhythm, and it felt worlds easier. Zhang Shuisheng watched in amazement, clicking his tongue in admiration and praising her quick wits nonstop.

Together, they cleared five ridges of land, each about seven or eight paces long. Wu Wei leaned on her hoe and wiped the sweat from her forehead. “Second Brother-in-law, this should do it, right? The Embroider Maiden and I won’t eat enough to fill all that. This garden’s plenty.”

Zhang Shuisheng nodded with a grin. “Not so tough, farming, is it?”

Rubbing her waist, Wu Wei answered honestly, “Now I truly understand the meaning of ‘Who knows the meal upon one’s plate, each grain comes from hard labor.’ Just these few dozen swings, and my sweat’s already soaking into the soil. It’s no job for just anyone.”

Hearing those lines from “Pitying the Farmers,” each word striking straight to his heart, Zhang Shuisheng couldn’t help saying, “No wonder even Zhang Cheng holds you in high regard, little sister. Those lines are brilliant. Did you write them?”

“Oh no, no—this poem ‘Pitying the Farmers’ was penned by a man named Li Shen. He’s from my distant hometown, too far away for it to have reached Qinglu County.”

Seeing his keen interest, Wu Wei recited the full poem. Zhang Shuisheng stood speechless for a long moment. Sure, there were the four occupations—scholars, farmers, artisans, merchants—but how many among the educated truly understood a farmer’s hardships?

“Little sister, next time you’re free, could you write it out for me? I’ll have a craftsman mount it for framing. I’m about to become a father—this ‘Pitying the Farmers’ is perfect to pass down. No matter if the kids end up farming or not, they need to know the toil involved.”

Wu Wei hesitated a moment but agreed.

Zhang Shuisheng murmured on, “I hope the child Second Niang and I have grows up like that Li Shen—accomplished in letters and compassionate to hardworking folk.”

Wu Wei felt goosebumps prickle her skin. She hurriedly cut him off. “Second Brother-in-law, you mustn’t take him as a role model! Li Shen was no good sort!”

At Zhang Shuisheng’s puzzled look, Wu Wei had no choice but to give a rough outline of Li Shen’s life story, softening the details where needed. He cursed roundly when she finished. “What a pity for such a fine poem.”

Wu Wei nodded vigorously in agreement. She’d been stunned herself to learn that the author of “Pitying the Farmers,” who had risen to the heights of power, ended up a man of excess and indulgence. And when she heard that the boy who studied by lamplight through a wall grew into no fine figure either, it had left her utterly bemused.

Suddenly, Wu Wei thought these tales might amuse the Embroider Maiden. She resolved to share them once they got home.

Zhang Shuisheng sent Wu Wei on ahead while he washed his face at the little stream in the woods and rinsed the mud from his feet before heading back.

To spare his shoes, Zhang Shuisheng usually worked barefoot. Wu Wei was a different story—she’d done little farm labor in her life and was spoiled rotten by her personal artisan, the Embroider Maiden. Shoes of every style abounded: everyday flats, thick-soled pairs for long trips, felt-bottomed ones for snow, sturdy mid-calf black lacquer boots—all seven pairs from the Embroider Maiden’s hands. Her skill was impeccable, her designs clever, her pace swift. Most had been stitched in secret while Wu Wei was out, only discovered amid the move.

Wu Wei couldn’t help chiding her gently. Shoemaking was grueling work—why rush through a full year’s worth? And it couldn’t all be for her; the Embroider Maiden ought to make a few pairs for herself.

The Embroider Maiden only smiled. Under Wu Wei’s repeated urging, she finally promised the next pair would be for herself.

Back home, a pot of water sat warming on the stove. Wu Wei ladled some out to freshen up, then joined the others inside for casual chatter.

“Where’ve you been, sweating like that?” Second Lady Liu asked.

“We cleared a few ridges up front. Once we set up the fence and plant some bamboo stakes, we can start sowing. Won’t be long before we’re growing our own greens—no more buying from the market. Second Brother-in-law says some vines need trellises to climb for the best yield.”

Second Lady Liu nodded approvingly. “Exactly. What kind of household buys every vegetable at market? Even well-off folks couldn’t keep that up. Home-grown is freshest. Come autumn, pickle a few jars of sauerkraut. Slice and dry what won’t keep, cellar the rest under thick straw mats—you’ll eat well all winter.”

Wu Wei listened attentively as Second Lady Liu shared these bits of homely wisdom. She felt herself gradually weaving into the fabric of life in this era—a sensation both sharp and unmistakable. And yet… Wu Wei didn’t dislike it.

She turned to glance at the Embroider Maiden, her heart growing heavy.

Ever since learning that the Wind-Fixing Stone at the entrance to Little Locust Village was actually a lake bottom stone, unsettling images had been flashing through Wu Wei’s mind. Even in her idle moments during the day, she found no peace, her thoughts drifting into wild speculations.

Meanwhile, the other three women in the room chatted about their joyful visions of the child’s birth. Old Lady Zhang grew animated, sharing amusing tales from Zhang Shuisheng’s childhood and that of a few young men she knew in the village as she worked away at her needlework. Her stories drew peals of laughter from Second Lady Liu and the Embroider Maiden.

Wu Wei alone seemed lost in a world of her own, her gaze drifting blankly through the window to some distant, unknown place.

The Embroider Maiden noticed Wu Wei’s distant expression and was about to say something when she saw Wu Wei’s eyes suddenly fix on the upright cabinet beside the kang. Wu Wei half-rose as if to get up, then stopped herself.

A thought struck the Embroider Maiden. She slowly set down her needle and thread, wondering how she might find an excuse to send everyone else out of the room.

Just then, Zhang Shuisheng returned. He hitched up the cart and announced he was heading home, since he needed to build a woodshed tomorrow to prepare meals for everyone. He asked Old Lady Zhang and Second Lady Liu to stay another day to help with the cooking, and promised to pick them up once the woodshed was done and the fence repaired.

Old Lady Zhang and Second Lady Liu set down their needlework and went out to see Zhang Shuisheng off. But the Embroider Maiden pressed Wu Wei’s hand and said, “You’ve been working all afternoon and must be exhausted. Why don’t you rest? I’ll take them to the west room to work, and you can lie down on the kang. I’ll see Second Brother-in-law off for you.”

It was exactly what Wu Wei needed.

Wu Wei nodded. Without another word, the Embroider Maiden acted as if she had noticed nothing amiss and quietly left the room. Wu Wei climbed onto the kang using her knees for support, opened the cabinet, and pulled out her wooden box. From the very bottom of the box, she retrieved several pieces of tree bark. She selected one and examined it closely.

On the bark were two lines of rough characters scratched out with a charred stick: “At the bottom of the lake, I encountered an ancient structure inscribed with: ‘Direct descendant of Yu Hong County, Wu x’s wife, the virtuous widow x shi…’ And then…”

Wu Wei had omitted the rest and replaced the key characters with pinyin letters out of fear that someone might glimpse the bark and bring disaster upon them. As long as she herself could understand it, that was enough.

Wu Wei knew that the lake and the ancient structure were the key to her transmigration. Worried she might forget over time, she had stripped the bark and recorded it early on.