Chapter 13

But once the question was asked, Sang Luo thought the child might hold it in overnight.

Sang Luo knew the moment to test her acting skills had arrived.

She was stunned by Shen An’s words for a moment, then smiled.

That smile—how to describe it? Thirty percent melancholy, fifty percent bitterness.

Shen An’s question seemed casual, but his gaze never wavered from Sang Luo’s reaction. His hand tightening instinctively on the chopsticks by about thirty percent, but seeing her response, he was momentarily at a loss.

“Sister-in-law?”

That slightly worried call came from Shen Ning.

Sang Luo forced a smile. “I went down to the river to catch fish and gathered leaves to make food. Actually, it’s my first time doing both. The former was something I’d heard the village children talk about—catching fish in the stream—and I kept it in mind. The latter comes from a recipe recorded in the collection of books my mother brought as her dowry. She once made it for me when I was young, so I recognized it.”

Yes, she recognized it. But why hadn’t she made it before?

Shen An kept watching her.

Sang Luo pretended ignorance. She lowered her gaze and gave a bitter smile. After a few moments, she looked up at the siblings.

“I haven’t told you about my past, have I? I was born into a collateral branch of the family. The upbringing I received didn’t include going up mountains or down rivers, especially not going barefoot into the water to catch fish. That was unimaginable in the past.”

“As for that ‘Immortal Tofu,’ that’s from my childhood. Yesterday, when I was so hungry I thought I couldn’t hold on, I thought of my parents and my early life, and only then did I remember there was such a food.”

The siblings were a little confused.

They had indeed heard of collateral branches before—those standing completely apart from the people in their village. Though they couldn’t quite explain what it meant, they had heard the elders chatting about it. Many of the best fields in their ten-mile village were tenanted, and about sixty percent belonged to the Wang family from the township. That Wang family was said to be a collateral branch.

The Wang family mansion, the little brother and sister had seen once when their elder brother took them to the market. It was the largest residence in the area. The village elders said the ladies of the Wang family rarely appeared outside. All household chores were done by servants and maids. The ladies never left the main gate or the secondary gate.

In fact, if Sang Luo explained it, there was a simple word: landlord.

The so-called humble families, collateral branches, and minor clans originated from the scholar-gentry class, a product of the struggle between imperial power and the gentry for resources.

In the time and space Sang Luo came from, the class below the scholar-gentry but still somewhat established as middle-to-small landlords was the collateral branch, and this world was roughly the same.

Shen An and Shen Ning were dazed. Their sister-in-law was actually a young lady from a wealthy household?

Though the siblings had lived with Sang Luo as a family, they had often felt she didn’t do much—she didn’t dare enter the mountains or rivers, her vegetables often died, and at first she wasn’t even skillful at lighting fires or washing clothes.

They lived on the little grain their third uncle gave them. Honestly, her survival skills were worse than theirs.

But if their sister-in-law was really a pampered young lady from a rich family, all those things they thought odd before suddenly made sense.

***

The most clever lie is seventy percent truth and thirty percent falsehood.

The original identity, knowledge, and upbringing were true; what was concealed and blended in was only the fact that Sang Luo had traveled through time and the origin of her skills.

Sang Luo had already achieved half her goal. Now, she showed a relieved demeanor.

“I’ve been to the brink of life and death. I’ve come to terms with it. My parents and family are gone, let alone my former clan and their rites. Surviving is already difficult enough; why bother with all that anymore?”

Shen An was cautious but only a child of nine, or rather seven in reality.

By now, his guard was completely lowered.

Imagining their sister-in-law’s situation—born into a good family, struck by disasters, losing her family, and ending up exchanging herself for half a sack of grain—

All he felt was sympathy and pity.

He even secretly regretted having doubted her earlier.

The two little ones were suddenly filled with care.

“Sister-in-law, eat more fish, take care of your health.”

“Don’t be sad, sister-in-law, you have me and Ning now.”

The effect was a bit too good. Not only were Shen An’s doubts completely dispelled, but these two little kids became almost overly protective of Sang Luo.

***

Dinner was warm and cozy.

After dinner, only the dozens of fish and half a bowl of shrimp remained to be processed.

Yes, they could eat three meals a day. Tonight’s dinner featured immortal tofu, mixed purslane, and two of the largest fish caught today. For these two children who had often gone without a steady meal, this was a feast.

The children, aware of the need to store food, insisted on saving the remaining fish for later.

Sang Luo agreed. Living day to day and nutritional supplementation were matters of steady accumulation, especially when recovering health, which required patience and persistence. Compared to their former refugee-like existence, today’s nutrition was quite good.

Their little household lacked many things, but fish and shrimp were treasures. Once made into dried fish and shrimp, they could be stored for a long time, perfect for winter reserves and daily nutrition and calcium when there was no meat.

By the time they returned with the fish basket, it was getting late. Sun-drying was impossible, so after dinner, Sang Luo boiled the processed fish and shrimp, then wandered outside for a while and found a thin stone slab to clean and use for roasting fish and shrimp.

This was the advantage of living far from the village. Late at night, the aroma of roasting fish and shrimp wafted out from their small hut for over an hour. If they lived in the village, the neighbors’ children would surely be drooling with envy.

A few small crabs became snacks for the children. After roasting, Sang Luo estimated the dried fish and shrimp weighed about a pound.

Shen An somehow found an old, tattered empty grain sack and stuffed all the dried fish and shrimp into it at once.

***

More than half a month later, the two little ones finally experienced the joy of having surplus food at home. They were over the moon.

Shen An, ever the meticulous steward, hugged the bags filled with rice and dried fish, pacing around the room looking for a place to hide them—not for any other reason, but to keep the mice from stealing their food. The dried fish smelled too good.

Finally, he hid them in two large ceramic pots borrowed from the Chen family—one upright, one upside down, sealed tight. Not a mouse or even an insect could get in.

Shen An was very satisfied with his makeshift granary. With Shen Ning by his side, they squatted and inspected it for a long time, unwilling to move.

“Sister-in-law, when we have more and more things, and when we have money, we’ll get a big jar just for storing food. Then we’ll ask Uncle Tianyou to help make a lid for it, and our food storage will be secure!”

Chen Youtian was skilled in simple woodworking; the bamboo knife Shen An used was carved by him.

Although right now the family had only a small amount of borrowed grain and the little dried fish and shrimp they just saved, Shen An was already dreaming about a full granary.

***

Unlike Shen An, who feared the mice, Sang Luo feared snakes.

Though she had lived in the mountains for a few years and was brave enough to fish with a basket, she was still afraid of snakes entering the house. At night, when she was completely asleep, the thought of unknown creatures crawling around was terrifying.

The house she had renovated before had well-protected screens, but this shabby grass hut was another matter.

All she could do was tightly close the doors and windows before sleeping and carefully check inside, especially the corner where firewood was stored.

Her first day in this ancient time ended busy and bustling. Sang Luo, Shen An, and Shen Ning squeezed onto a makeshift bed made from benches and wooden planks, falling asleep to the sounds of frogs and insects.

Half-asleep, Sang Luo thought to herself that once they had money, aside from stockpiling grain, the most urgent matter would be repairing the house and the outhouse.

Yes, the outhouse.

Besides the difficulty of bathing, the biggest hardship was this.

The Shen family had originally built an outhouse somewhere on the mountain, a short distance from the grass hut. Sang Luo didn’t want to comment on its condition, but since the original body was extremely deficient in various substances, she hadn’t needed to use the outhouse all day.

Only before bed did she have to go, holding her nose both coming and going, moving at the fastest speed she had ever managed in two lifetimes.

She comforted herself by thinking that compared to having snatched a life, all hardships could be overcome, all intolerable things could be endured for now.

Before falling asleep, her mind was filled with the thought—earn money, earn money, earn money!

That entire night, in her dreams, she was selling immortal tofu at the market, making a roaring start, with one copper coin after another dropping into her pocket, and she laughed aloud in her sleep, clutching a pocket full of coins.