Chapter 13: Moving into the New House

Experience shapes character. Although Xie Guanniang appeared cheerful and lively, every step she took was cautious, carefully reading the atmosphere. She dared to push her limits before Jiang Yuan only because he had spoiled her so thoroughly.

Jiang Yuan treated her with such kindness, expecting nothing in return, yet always giving her the best within his means. His youthful eyes shone with clarity and purity, and his actions never overstepped boundaries. Even though she lived under the same roof as this unfamiliar boy, Xie Guanniang felt no need for vigilance.

The two sat in the main room, waiting until the rain ceased. Only then did Jiang Yuan rise to clear the dishes. Seeing that Xie Guanniang had regained her spirits, he refrained from pressing her about her mood. Instead, he found himself worried about Hao Yu, who was away for reasons unknown.

While Jiang Yuan busied himself in the kitchen, Xie Guanniang took it upon herself to move her belongings, including her pillow and bedding, in three trips to the east wing room Jiang Yuan had already prepared. The east wing comprised three rooms; Jiang Yuan had set aside the north chamber closest to the main house for her, while the south chamber was tidied up for future guests.

Though the wing rooms were slightly smaller than the main house—where Jiang Yuan and Hao Yu stayed—the layout was nearly identical. A clay kang bed by the window occupied half the room, covered with clean, soft, thick straw mats. A large wooden box delivered at noon, along with newly made winnowing baskets and sieves, rested on a wooden rack against the inner wall, directly opposite the kang.

Outside the rack, on the earthen floor, stood two wooden buckets—one large, one small—perfect for fetching water and bathing. Near the doorway, a washbasin rack held a brand-new wooden basin and had space for toiletries like fragrant soap and cloth towels.

Though her possessions were few, they sufficed for Xie Guanniang’s needs. She laid out her bedding on the kang, then carefully sorted her scattered belongings into the wooden box. Having a room of her own and Jiang Yuan’s assurance she could stay as long as she wished finally grounded the fluttering restlessness in her heart.

The next morning, after breakfast, Jiang Yuan went to town to sell their game, while Xie Guanniang took out some flour, mixed in a little honey Jiang Yuan had discovered the day before, and kneaded the dough. She set it on the warm kang to speed fermentation before skillfully cutting and sewing the fabric, embellishing the collar and cuffs with simple embroidery.

At noon, Jiang Yuan returned to find two nearly finished garments and a bowl of well-fermented mixed flour dough. As she kneaded the dough, Xie Guanniang warned, “I added some buckwheat flour, so the steamed buns won’t be as white or as chewy as those sold in town.”

Jiang Yuan’s eyes softened. “As long as they’re edible.” Raised by his foster mother, he and his foster father had never cooked during her lifetime. After her passing, his sister reluctantly taught him the basics—boiling and steaming eggs, making simple breads like steamed buns, cornbread, and pancakes. More complex cooking techniques remained beyond his grasp.

Previously, their dry provisions were always bought in town or prepared by his mother and sister. This was the first time Jiang Yuan lent a hand making steamed buns. As Xie Guanniang had said, the buckwheat flour gave the buns a light brown hue and a less elastic texture, but the honey sweetened the flavor pleasantly.

They enjoyed a meal of steamed buns dipped in pickled vegetables alongside fried eggs. Jiang Yuan dutifully washed the pots and pans afterward, while Xie Guanniang returned to her needlework. After finishing the embroidery on the two garments and crafting socks and sanitary belts from the leftover fabric, she rubbed her neck and wrists and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

While she worked on her sewing, Jiang Yuan had been busy all afternoon preparing their supplies for the next day’s journey into the mountains, gathering everything they’d need beyond food and water. He also found time to fish by the river.

Before Xie Guanniang arrived, Jiang Yuan often cooked fish for himself. River fish varied in size and species, their earthy smell making them less favored by wealthy patrons compared to wild game. Although he disliked the taste, he ate the fish out of necessity, finding it better than subsisting on coarse grain cakes and vegetables alone.

Since Xie Guanniang’s arrival, fearing she wouldn’t tolerate his so-called “dark cuisine” of assorted fish soup, he had stopped fishing. It was only when she casually inquired about his absence from the river that he guessed she might want a change of taste and ventured out again.

Now, in Jiang Yuan’s kitchen, two wooden buckets brimmed with various fish, swimming about. Xie Guanniang stepped inside, her face lighting up. “You went fishing! Does that mean we’ll have fish for dinner tonight?”

Seeing her radiant smile, Jiang Yuan thought, as expected, this girl simply wanted to eat fish. He nodded. “I’m not good at cooking fish.”

Curious, she asked, “What’s wrong with your cooking?”

“It tastes fishy. Sometimes bitter.”

Xie Guanniang stifled a laugh. “Then I’ll cook tonight. Let’s see if it’s your method that’s at fault.”

She guessed with high certainty that Jiang Yuan didn’t know how to remove the fishy odor and had probably accidentally burst the fish’s gallbladder, causing bitterness.