After the Sweet Little Husband Got Remarried - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

At the hour of mao, before the faintest light of dawn had touched the horizon, Shen Ying set out for the mountain with Jiang Song, leaving Lu Lu alone at home.

Lu Lu had risen early to make him a few egg pancakes to eat on the road, keeping one for himself. Shen Ying had told him to go back and sleep a little longer, but he couldn’t fall asleep again. After seeing him off, he went to cut grass to feed the chickens and ducks in the shed.

To the right of the shed was a pile of chopped firewood, and to the left, a stack of straw. The chickens and ducks were kept on the right side, near the courtyard’s earthen wall.

He cut a bundle of tender grass from the patch of weeds on the eastern side of the courtyard. He thought about opening a vegetable plot there, but since there were neither seeds nor a hoe in the house, he could only shelve the plan for now.

After feeding the chickens and ducks, Lu Lu went behind the house to cut several stalks of young bamboo, intending to weave a chicken cage.

The shed was only enclosed on three sides by earthen walls and had no door. The mountains were full of insects and snakes, and sometimes yellow weasels prowled about at night. Keeping the chickens and ducks in cages would protect them from wild animals — and stop them from running loose in the yard.

Lu Lu had learned bamboo weaving from his late father. In those days, his father had taught him many skills — weaving not only chicken coops, but also winnowing baskets, back baskets, sieves, and grain hampers.

First, he trimmed off the branches from the bamboo joints with a hatchet, split the stalks down the middle, then sliced them into long, thin strips — wide at first, then narrow — until only smooth, flexible slats remained. He peeled away the inner white layer, leaving the golden-yellow and green strips.

Each strip was about the width of a thumb, even and straight — just right for making a chicken cage.

It took him the entire morning to weave one. When it was done, he lined the bottom with a thin layer of straw and even crafted a little nest from rice stalks to place in one corner.

There were still a few bamboo strips left, so, with nothing else to do, Lu Lu decided to weave a back basket for carrying things.

He had just arranged the strips for the base when a cheerful voice called from outside the courtyard wall — a clear, bright tone addressing him as “Sister-in-law!”

Lu Lu looked up to see a young ge’er standing at the gate, wearing an indigo cloth robe and holding a wooden basin in his arms. With bright, gentle features, he was none other than Huai, the Jiang family’s younger son — the same ge’er who had brought him food on his wedding night.

Recognizing him, Lu Lu quickly set aside the bamboo strips and went to open the gate.

Perhaps because they had met once before, and both being ge’ers of similar age, Lu Lu felt an unexpected warmth toward him.

Inside the basin were a few unwashed garments. Before he could come closer, Jiang Huai asked through the fence, “Sister-in-law, are you going to wash clothes?”

Only then did Lu Lu realize the reason for his visit. “I am,” he replied at once. “Wait a moment — I’ll come with you.”

“No rush,” Jiang Huai said with a grin. “I actually came to bring you something. My mother gave me two bags of vegetable seeds to deliver.”

He handed over two small cloth pouches. “This one’s amaranth, and this one’s water spinach. Mother said if you don’t know how to plant them, you can come ask her.”

The seeds were packed in stitched scraps of old fabric. Lu Lu accepted them gratefully, murmuring his thanks. He had just been worrying about having no seeds to sow — and now, they had arrived right at his door.

Jiang Huai went on, “Mother also said, don’t rush to till that patch of land. Once planting season’s over, my father and brother will come help turn the soil. Then Mother will send you some melon seedlings.”

Vegetable seeds, melon sprouts, and even help with the field — it was all too generous. Lu Lu hurried to reply, “There’s no need to trouble them. I can do it myself once Shen Ying buys a hoe. It’s no big deal.”

He hesitated briefly when he said Shen Ying’s name. It was the first time he’d mentioned him aloud to someone else.

“What trouble?” Jiang Huai laughed. “You’d wear yourself out working alone. Let the men do the heavy work — gives us an excuse to rest.”

His easy humor made Lu Lu smile. “Alright,” he said softly, his lips curving faintly.

Not wanting to keep him waiting, Lu Lu put the seed pouches away and turned to fetch his basin.

“Wait a second,” Jiang Huai called, reaching into his robe and pulling out a folded handkerchief. “My mother made rice cakes this morning. I brought you a few pieces.”

Inside the handkerchief were slices of rice cake — alternating layers of creamy white and pale green, each topped with half a red jujube. The colors looked soft and inviting.

Lu Lu blinked, surprised. “For me?”

Jiang Huai nodded enthusiastically. “Mm-hmm! Go on, try one. Mother’s rice cakes are soft and glutinous — the best you’ll ever taste.”

Encouraged by the boy’s bright, expectant eyes, Lu Lu carefully took a small piece, lifted it to his lips, and took a bite.

Just as Jiang Huai said, the rice cake was smooth and delicate, melting on his tongue without sticking to his teeth. It carried a light, grassy fragrance — a hint of mugwort lingering in the mouth.

After swallowing, Lu Lu’s eyes lit up. “You added mugwort juice, didn’t you?” he asked.

Jiang Huai smiled and nodded. He handed over both the rice cakes and the handkerchief. Seeing Lu Lu wrap the leftovers carefully, he chuckled. “Don’t worry about saving some for Brother Shen — Mother already sent some with my brother this morning. These are just for you.”

Lu Lu’s cheeks grew warm. Caught red-handed in his thoughts, his ears flushed pink.

He bit his lip and said shyly, “Then… I’ll wash your handkerchief and return it later.”

Seeing the bashful look on his face, Jiang Huai finally stopped teasing, smiling as he nodded. “Alright.”

Lu Lu didn’t have the heart to eat the rest. He wrapped the rice cakes back up and tucked them carefully inside the house, then returned with his basin to join Jiang Huai on the road to the pond.

Shuitang Village owed its name to its many ponds — large and small — scattered throughout. The biggest one lay to the south, near the headman’s house, where the village women and ge’ers often gathered to wash clothes together.

When the two arrived, several women were already squatting on the big stones near the water, scrubbing clothes and chatting idly. The smooth boulders had been hauled from the mountains by the headman years ago for just this purpose.

As Lu Lu and Jiang Huai approached, a few of the women looked up, wringing out their garments as their eyes lingered curiously on the unfamiliar face.

One plump woman spoke first. “Hey, have you seen that one with Huai before? Doesn’t look like someone from our village.”

Another ge’er, younger and slender, tapped his laundry with a wooden mallet and said casually, “Who else could it be? He’s close to the Jiang family — must be from Shen’s old house down by the mountain.”

“So that’s the new husband Shen Ying just married? No wonder I didn’t recognize him. I heard he was supposed to marry another ge’er, but somehow the bride got switched. Do any of you know what happened?”

“I heard a bit from one of the women who helped at the wedding,” the young ge’er replied, pausing his work. “Apparently, this Lu ge’er fell into the water and got saved by Shen Ying. Once they’d already… touched skin, well, what else could they do?”

“So that’s how it was! No wonder the engagement got changed so suddenly. Still, he looks awfully thin — who knows if he’s strong enough to bear children later.”

The murmured gossip floated across the pond, reaching Lu Lu’s ears in broken fragments. He lowered his gaze, head bowed, pretending not to hear.

“Don’t mind them,” Jiang Huai said, frowning. He had little patience for such idle tongues. Shooting the gossipers a sharp look, he tugged Lu Lu’s arm and said, “Come on. Let’s wash up farther down.”

At the next stone sat a slim, frail-looking girl in coarse linen, about fifteen or sixteen years old. Seeing them approach, she quickly shifted to the side to make room.

“Thank you,” Lu Lu murmured, setting down his basin and preparing to squat — when Jiang Huai gently tugged his sleeve and whispered, “That’s Sui, Shen Ying’s second younger sister.”

Lu Lu froze mid-motion and straightened up at once, hesitating to move closer.

He recalled hearing from the matchmaker — back when she’d come to arrange Lu Wei’s marriage — that after Shen Ying’s mother passed away, his father had remarried soon after, and the following year, twin siblings had been born — a younger brother and sister.

He had heard that the third son was studying at a county academy but hadn’t known much about the younger sister.

Neither Shen’s father nor his stepmother had attended the wedding banquet, so this was the first time Lu Lu had met anyone from the Shen family.

He was still wondering whether to greet her when a sharp, grating voice suddenly cut through the air behind them — clearly belonging to an older woman.

“So that’s where you’ve been hiding! Lazy thing — dawdling all morning over a few pieces of laundry! Get back and cut chicken grass, you useless girl!”

Startled, the girl on the rock flinched, quickly lifting her basin of freshly washed clothes. Her shoulders hunched as she hurried toward the voice, timid and fearful.

Lu Lu’s eyes followed her, landing on the scolding woman.

The woman held a handkerchief in one hand and wore a pinkish-red robe of fine cloth — clearly city-made — with a silver hairpin gleaming in her bun, set with a dangling bead.

She spotted Jiang Huai first, then turned her gaze to Lu Lu, looking him up and down before curling her lips in disdain. “So this is the ge’er from Shiqiao Village. No manners at all — sees an elder and doesn’t even bother to greet her.”