They ate their meal in a hurry—three pancakes and a bowl of soup. After finishing, Li Feng didn’t linger, rushing off immediately.
If he’d been any later, the wild boar would have been useless, and all their efforts would have been for nothing.
He also asked his mother and younger brother if there was anything they wanted to eat or needed to take along. Chen Guizhi said, “Go early and come back early—your husband is practically in tears!”
Shun nodded vigorously, chiming in to back his mother up, “It’s true! Big Sister started crying right away!”
Li Feng glanced at Lu Liu again. Her eyes were still moist, though compared to her former vibrant self, they now held a hint of weariness, streaked with red.
He noted her expression. “Don’t worry. The delivery won’t take long. I’ll be back as soon as I collect the silver.”
His own mule was at Er Tian’s place, so this delivery would use Da Qiang’s mule cart.
Yao’s husband was expecting a child. Da Qiang had just heard the news and didn’t want to go to the county seat. Since the delivery didn’t require three people, he wanted to stay home and keep his husband company.
Li Feng congratulated him and asked if he needed anything brought back.
Dàqiáng felt rather guilty as he spoke: “Just those ten-cash meat pies. Grab me a couple. He wants them.”
He’d only skipped buying them for Yao’an that one time, making up for it later.
Now that she was pregnant, she’d started bringing up old grievances. The moment he retorted, her eyes flushed red—as if he’d committed some unforgivable crime. Sigh.
Li Feng raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?”
Daqiang wouldn’t say. “Oh, right—I’ve got some fish here. He can’t finish them. When you come back, take a couple. No charge.”
Never mind. Li Feng didn’t have time to chat with Lu Liu anyway. At his place, they only exchanged a few words during the cart ride. Once they passed the courtyard gate, Li Feng strode off.
The wild boar was outside Wang Meng’s house because Yao Fulang couldn’t stand the smell of wild boar either.
When Li Feng arrived, he overheard Chenjiu’s grumbling: “What’s the deal? They all can’t stand the smell, but I can? You leave this huge beast right by the door, and you even point the pig’s head toward the entrance! When I open the door, that massive dead pig’s head stares right at me! Don’t you worry about scaring me to death!”
Wang Meng faced him with his usual tactic—a chuckle. He laughed at everything. After a moment of laughter, Chenjiu, who cursed like cotton, grew too lazy to argue with him.
Just as he was cursing, Li Feng came over to shoulder the boar. Chenjiu suddenly went hoarse, shouting “Cousin!” and said nothing more.
Wang Meng changed into another pair of shoes and came out to help Li Feng hoist the boar onto the cart.
Several straw mats and a pile of hay were laid on the cart bed to prevent blood from staining the wooden planks.
Once they hit the road, there was little to hide the load.
Wang Meng asked Chen Jiu what he wanted to eat: “I’ll buy it for you.”
Chen Jiu craved pork knuckle. He hadn’t managed to snatch any at banquets—it was a premium cut rarely cooked at home—and now he yearned for it.
Wang Meng agreed: “I’ll get you two!”
Once aboard the cart, both Li Feng and Wang Meng removed their shoes. The difference was Li Feng still wore a pair of clean, soft cotton socks, while Wang Meng was barefoot.
Wang Meng watched with envy and asked Li Feng for advice: “How come? Why didn’t Brother Jiu give me socks?”
Truth be told, Li Feng had no experience with this.
Lu Liu always kept the household running smoothly. After tidying and cleaning every corner, she knew exactly what was missing.
Men’s feet wore out shoes quickly. Li Feng only wore socks in winter, never otherwise—otherwise both shoes and socks would tear, a waste.
He wore them when climbing the mountain to absorb sweat. In winter too, a pair of socks plus insoles made boots warmer and more durable.
Now that spring had arrived, their cloth shoes were becoming too thin to wear. Soon they’d switch to straw sandals, or go barefoot altogether.
The socks on his feet were freshly made from scraps of fabric Lu Liu had bought at the market—light brown cloth pieced together from two pieces. The stitching was on the top of the foot, so they didn’t rub.
They didn’t match the cloth shoes very well—plain cloth was usually used for socks. But they were cheap and soft.
Li Feng thought for a moment and said to him, “If you want something, just tell Jiu Ge. If he’s in a good mood, he’ll get it for you.”
Wang Meng: “…”
It was like he hadn’t said anything at all.
He asked Li Feng, “What did you buy for your husband?” “
Li Feng was pondering this very thing. Yao wanted flatbreads, Jiu wanted pork knuckles, but Lu Liu wanted nothing. How could that be?
He wiggled his toes, feeling the new socks. He remembered Lu Liu had hardly any clothes. With the seasons changing, how could he manage with only old garments?
He told Wang Meng, “I’ll get a few yards of cloth to make him some clothes.”
That sounded good too.
As they descended the mountain and walked far away, Lu Liu was still busy at home.
He found some dried mugwort to boil for water.
After hunting large game on the mountain, the blood and gore would leave a lingering scent. The aroma of mugwort could help mask it.
He also retrieved some mint leaves stored at home for later use.
He scooped out a small basin of soapberries, crushed them, and dissolved them in hot water. He poured the mixture over Li Feng’s shoes repeatedly.
The smell made him gag. Seeing his discomfort, Shun took over, scrubbing the shoes clean.
Lu Liu seized the moment to wash her hands, knead dough, and chop filling for dumplings.
They’d agreed earlier: once Li Feng returned, they’d make dumplings.
With fresh meat at home, she spared none, mincing it all.
She made extra—more than they could finish in one sitting—so Li Feng could have another meal tomorrow morning.
Chen Guizhi, now free, bustled about inside and out.
She took the bloodstained tools outside to wash them, scrubbing the iron clean of all traces.
The family had a whetstone. She usually gave the blades a quick sharpen, wiped them dry, laid them out to sun in the backyard, then locked them away indoors.
Erhuang stayed home, not going to the county town.
He could take care of himself, rolling around in the small river until his fur was dripping wet. Shun Ge’er would scrub him with soapberry water, scrubbing away dirt and bloodstains from his fur. He’d pat his head and send him back to the river for another wash.
By the time it returned, a clearing had been made in the front yard. Chen Guizhi lit a brazier, wood crackling inside.
She dried Erhuang’s fur, checking for any spots still unclean, washing them again bit by bit.
In the mountains, a hunting dog was like a hunter’s second life. They loyally guarded their masters, and in real danger, could drag down a beast to let their owner escape first.
Chen Guizhi treated it well, checking over it, washing small patches, then fluffing its fur to warm it up quickly. Once it was nearly dry, she could extinguish the brazier and let Erhuang bask in the sun.
Inside, Lu Liu was already wrapping dumplings. Seeing his mother enter, he asked, “Mom, are you going to feed Erhuang dumplings?”
Er Huang usually ate well, and no matter how Lu Liu fed him, Li Feng never objected.
Now, with meat, eggs, and white flour involved in making dumplings, Lu Liu wanted to ask.
Chen Guizhi nodded. “Boil a bowl for him. He’s worked hard.”
Lu Liu agreed, smiling as he first cooked a meal of meat-and-egg dumplings for Er Huang.
They ate a simple lunch, saving room for the dumplings.
Lu Liu remembered Li Feng’s swollen feet couldn’t fit into shoes. He went back inside to find scraps of cloth, intending to make a pair of oversized shoes. That way, his heels could touch the ground, and his feet wouldn’t tire.
Making cloth shoes would take more than half a day, so he went outside to gather a pile of good rice straw to weave straw sandals instead.
Straw sandals were simple; Lu Liu used to weave many pairs every year.
His family was poor and couldn’t afford cloth, so straw sandals were the shoes he wore most often. He could weave several pairs a day, fitting it in whenever he found a spare moment amidst his busy schedule.
After weaving the soles, he made the uppers loose, avoiding any pressure on the toes. Instead, he wrapped the weave around the instep, connecting it to the heel.
They were half a palm longer than the shoes Li Feng usually wore, leaving ample room at both ends.
By the time he finished this pair, it was nearly time. Remembering how much Li Feng loved fish soup, Lu Liu got up to go catch fish at Yao Fulang’s house.
Yao Fulang hadn’t come to play with him today. When he called out from outside the door, Daqiang answered first in a hurry, and only then did Yao Fulang’s voice follow.
“Catching fish?” I’ll have Daqiang catch you two big ones!”
Daqiang didn’t utter a word of protest. Grinning broadly, he approached Lu Liu. Perhaps he was genuinely willing, or perhaps he knew Lu Liu was close with Yao Fulang and dared not act out of line. He was exceptionally well-behaved, even thoughtfully asking Lu Liu, “Is that enough? If not, I can catch one more.”
