Chapter 49: Cutting Pigweed

Huang Wei fell asleep as soon as her hair was dry, a blissful smile still on her face even in slumber. This only baffled Cheng Luyun further. She reached over and shook Huang Chengcheng, who groggily rubbed her eyes and sat up. “Mom, what’s wrong?” she whispered.

“Do you know what she’s so happy about?”

Huang Chengcheng was stunned. She looked at Cheng Luyun, then down at Huang Wei, her brow furrowing like an adult. She scrunched her face so hard it looked about to knot, but even racking her brain, she couldn’t figure out why Huang Wei was so happy, or why her mother had woken her up so late just to ask.

Noticing her daughter’s distress, Cheng Luyun watched her for a moment, then poked her forehead. “Get back to sleep.”

“Ow!” Huang Chengcheng yelped theatrically, flopping onto the bed and rolling right into Huang Wei’s arms.

By now, Huang Wei was used to holding a child. She didn’t even stir, just naturally pulled Huang Chengcheng into her embrace. Cheng Luyun waved her hand, and the light switch clicked off by itself, plunging the room into darkness. It was barely nine o’clock, but Huang Wei had fallen into a deep, pleasant sleep, a beautiful dream seemingly playing out behind her eyelids.

Cheng Luyun stared at her for a long moment before letting out a soft sigh.

That exasperating woman. She throws my heart into chaos, then sleeps like a baby.

When Huang Wei woke, she found Cheng Luyun lying with her back to her, holding Huang Chengcheng. Although she knew both bosses were probably pretending to be asleep, Huang Wei still gently pulled the blanket up over Cheng Luyun before tiptoeing out of bed. She changed in the bathroom, freshened up, and went downstairs.

Passing the main hall, she glanced at the time: June 15th, 5:00 AM.

Doing as Cheng Luyun had instructed the night before, she went to the utility room. She grabbed a sickle, a back basket, and a flashlight, then headed out. Dawn was just breaking, a pale streak of fish-belly white painting the horizon. Huang Wei used her flashlight to navigate the still-dim path and headed for the mountains.

She had no idea what lurked on the back mountain, but it was clearly something she couldn’t handle. So, instead of going there, she walked through the village, crossed the fields, and stopped by the pond. She scavenged around the pond outside the village for a long time, filling her basket with pigweed before heading home.

The sky had been just a hint of light when she left; by the time she returned, it was bright. Crossing the fields, she saw many villagers already busy at work. She took a shortcut along the field ridges, and a few people called out greetings.

“Hey there, Brother Wei! Up so early?”

“Ah… yeah, just went to cut some pigweed.”

“Brother Wei, your cooking yesterday was amazing! When can we have it again? If you ever need a hand around the house, just shout! We’ll definitely come help!”

Huang Wei paused, then nodded. “Mhm. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

She knew there would probably be plenty to do later, but while she didn’t mind cooking for seven or eight people occasionally, she wasn’t about to become a full-time cook. If she did that every day, she wouldn’t have time for anything else. She knew Cheng Luyun must possess a deep backstory, one potentially tied to her very life. Given the chance, Huang Wei wanted to uncover the truth of what had happened to Cheng Luyun and Huang Chengcheng.

It wasn’t that Huang Wei was overly curious. She simply believed that understanding Cheng Luyun was the only way to stand on equal ground with her. Only when they stood at the same height could Cheng Luyun truly see her, and perhaps, only then, could they truly fall in love.

A cat will never fall for the fish or mouse it toys with, just as a human will never fall for an ant beneath their feet.

The road ahead was long, and she would have to search high and low.

Huang Wei mulled this over on the way home. She planned to hire Sister Cui and Big Ya. They were neighbors, for one. Big Ya and Little Ya also played well with Huang Chengcheng. And lastly, they were the villagers Huang Wei found the most agreeable in this whole instance… even if the mother-daughter duo had scared her half to death multiple times.

The work she’d give them wouldn’t be heavy—just washing and chopping vegetables. Huang Wei would handle the actual cooking. She didn’t know what made Cheng Luyun and the villagers so terrible at it, but as long as she took the final step, nothing major should go wrong. And if it did, she’d find a way to fix it.

If Sister Cui could handle the prep work, cooking would become much simpler.

It was a good plan. Back home, she lit the coal stove, found an old, battered pot, and started making pig slop.

As a child at her adoptive parents’ farm, she’d cooked pig slop right on the earth stove. There were no fancy methods back then—just use whatever pot the family cooked with. But Huang Wei knew that if she tried that now, Cheng Luyun might be furious enough to flip the entire stovetop. To avoid bringing such cataclysmic wrath upon her head, she dug out an old pot specifically for this purpose.

Making pig slop wasn’t as simple as it sounded. It took Huang Wei a while to gather the ingredients: besides the pigweed, she needed cornmeal, rice bran, and greens to fatten the pig up properly. She still wasn’t entirely sure if the pig in the backyard was even alive, but even if it was a zombie pig, she couldn’t cut corners. Cheng Luyun had given her this task, and if she did a poor job, Cheng Luyun’s anger wouldn’t fade.

Once the slop was cooked, she turned the coal stove down to its lowest setting, placed a kettle on top to heat slowly, and carried the pot to the backyard.

She poured the entire pot into the pigsty’s trough and watched the pig shove its snout in. She studied it, trying to determine if it was alive or dead. No matter how she looked, it seemed alive. Maybe it had just been so long since she’d seen a real, living pig that she couldn’t tell anymore.

Giving up on that pointless endeavor, she straightened up and looked toward the other side of the yard. The backyard was quite large; building a duck pen wouldn’t be a problem. A country person as multi-talented as Huang Wei was like a fish in water on a farm, and a duck pen was simple to construct. She fetched supplies from the utility room, cleared a space in the corner, and got to work.

She rolled up her sleeves, tied back her hair, and started right in.

A duck pen really was simple. All you needed was a sheltered space for them at night and a fence to keep them from wandering off. The fencing was easy, too. The backyard wasn’t completely paved over; one corner still had loose soil. She drove wooden stakes into the earth around the perimeter, making sure they were packed tight enough not to tip. Then, she found an old fishing net and wrapped it around the stakes, securing it with wire.

Finally, she built a basic little wooden hut inside, lined with straw. The duck pen was done. Huang Wei was no carpenter, and her hands were clumsy when it came to building the miniature shelter, but she managed to slap a frame together. The hut was undeniably ugly, but it was still a place for the ducks to live.

Estimating the time, she figured it was about right and set her tools aside to start breakfast. First, she went next door to see Sister Cui. After she explained her request, Sister Cui agreed immediately. She was so enthusiastic she was ready to start helping right then and there, but Huang Wei told her the morning meal was simple—she’d need more help for lunch and dinner.

A flicker of disappointment crossed Sister Cui’s face, but when she realized it meant two meals she could partake in, her spirits lifted again.

Huang Wei also handed over the sunflower seeds, asking Sister Cui to distribute them to the households that had sent over bedding the day before. Sister Cui agreed, though a hesitant look crossed her face, and her eyes lingered on the seeds a little too long. Huang Wei had a vague idea what that meant, but since Sister Cui didn’t say anything, she could only pretend not to notice and head back to cook.

Breakfast that morning was simple. Huang Wei made plain rice porridge, fried eggs, and boiled eggs. With so many players, they could pick whichever they preferred. With the basics done, she felt a little side dish was needed—the chili sauce she’d made earlier should be ready to eat by now.

She pulled several carrots from the kitchen, washed them, and sliced them into thin shreds. She tossed them in a large basin with salt to cure. After a while, she drained them and mixed in soy sauce, vinegar, chopped scallions, and a generous spoonful of her homemade chili sauce. Before finishing, she set aside one portion and added cilantro to it, mixing it separately.

Cheng Luyun liked cilantro. She was the sole member of the cilantro-worshipping cult in this household. Meanwhile, she and Chengcheng were upstanding citizens who firmly rejected it.

Muttering about Cheng Luyun’s aberrant taste, Huang Wei prepared the special cilantro-laced portion just for her.

Once everything was mixed, she heated a ladle of oil until it smoked and poured it over both the large basin and the single bowl. The sizzling sound was quickly followed by a burst of fragrant aroma that punched her right in the nose.

The shredded carrots were crisp and refreshing, with just a hint of spicy heat—the perfect companion for morning porridge. Huang Wei wanted to make more pickles and other small dishes, but there wasn’t enough time. She’d have to wait for a slower day.

Pickled cucumbers, salted vegetables, beef sauce… Huang Wei could even make century eggs. All of those would be wonderful with porridge.

Mornings were always a rush. She’d have to find time to make other breakfast treats too, like youtiao and fresh soy milk. Eating just porridge every day would get old fast.

Cheng Luyun and Huang Chengcheng came down at the perfect moment. Huang Wei had just finished setting the table in the main hall when she saw Cheng Luyun descending the stairs with her daughter in her arms.

Huang Wei offered a gentle smile. “Come eat.”

Cheng Luyun placed Huang Chengcheng in her chair and took her own seat. Huang Wei had been up since dawn and hadn’t stopped moving since. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her bangs plastered damply against her temple, unable to spring back up. Her entire face was thus exposed, and paired with her smile, it reminded Cheng Luyun of the night before.

Huang Chengcheng’s attention, however, was elsewhere: on the breakfast before her. It looked delicious, especially those shredded radishes, mixed with chili sauce. She didn’t stand on ceremony; she immediately stretched out her chopsticks, grabbed a generous pinch, and popped it into her mouth. A look of pure satisfaction spread across her face. The slight kick of the chili sauce teased her taste buds, a delightful novelty for the little girl who had never tried anything like it.

“Chengcheng loves chili sauce!”

Huang Wei lingered to eat with the mother-daughter pair before preparing to head to the guesthouse with the rice cooker and the breakfast she’d set aside for the players.

But just as she said, “I’m heading out,” Cheng Luyun stopped her.

Confused, Huang Wei’s face showed her puzzlement. Cheng Luyun, however, walked right up to her, reached out, and fussed with her hair. Only when she was satisfied did she nod, giving Huang Wei permission to leave.