Chapter 42

Every noon, Shen An and Shen Ning would quietly pick the fairy tree leaves when no one was around and bring them back. After lunch at the Chen household, the first task for Sang Luo was to make sour jujube cakes.

Because of two pieces of wheat cakes, the children behind the thatched hut seemed energized, as if injected with adrenaline, and grew especially curious about Sang Luo, the sister-in-law who had actually bought them wheat cakes.

Naturally, curiosity aside, although they wanted to get closer, the children were shy and wary of strangers, and none dared to approach her.

This was not just the case for the two new children. Aside from Shen An and Shen Ning, and Chen Ershan, who had already eaten the cakes and gone to dig and carry mud, the rest were much the same, with Shen Jin being the most so.

Shen Jin still couldn’t forget the aroma of those wheat cakes. When he saw Sang Luo return, he stared at her as if grass had grown on him, but the housekeeper didn’t even glance at him and went straight into the hut.

Shen Jin shuffled his feet awkwardly... well, barely moving at all, almost standing still.

But Shen An saw through his little scheme at once and grabbed the collar of Shen Jin’s shirt, pulling him back the half step he had taken.

“What are you thinking? Either work quietly or go home. Anyway, don’t come near over there. My sister-in-law walked ten miles to the county before dawn and is very tired now. She needs to rest, so you’re not allowed to disturb her.”

In fact, Shen An was well aware that his sister-in-law would be handling those sour jujubes this afternoon.

How could sour jujube be made delicious? Shen An had thought about it many times but couldn’t imagine it.

But since it was his sister-in-law’s family recipe, he couldn’t let foolish Shen Jin sneak in and see it, so he kept a very close watch.

Shen Jin continued awkwardly hoeing and picking stones, but he didn’t really dare to go in.

He just wanted to show his loyalty, hoping she would recognize him and change the bad impression he had left before.

If he didn’t go, so be it. When his sister-in-law faced him with a stern look, she was formidable, and he didn’t dare to approach.

Sang Luo was indeed making sour jujube cakes. Because there were many eyes outside, she didn’t come out. She only washed and dried two large round winnowing baskets prepared for drying the cakes and carried in two buckets of water. The rest of the steps were done behind the closed door of the hut.

Making sour jujube cakes was not difficult. When Sang Luo lived in the mountains, this was a snack she made every year when the sour jujubes ripened. She made plenty, dried them, and sealed them in boxes. These snacks were nutritious, clean, and delicious, with absolutely reliable ingredients—one of her favorite treats.

Now in a new place, Sang Luo was equally adept at making the cakes—washing, boiling, peeling, mashing the jujubes to remove the pits, then gradually mixing in maltose syrup. The sour jujube cakes were done. It required no special skill, just time and effort.

She took the winnowing baskets washed and dried early in the morning, spread the mixture, pinched and shaped it into small round cakes by hand while it was still soft.

Two full baskets were neatly spread out. After storing the peels and pits properly, she opened the door and went outside.

There was no drying rack. Their home didn’t even have a bench to prop up a board for drying, but there were plenty of trees nearby. Sang Luo chose two trees with three branches each, suitable as natural drying racks. She moved a large stone there, tested it for stability, then returned to carry out the two baskets and set them on the branches to dry for three days. The sour jujube cakes would then be ready.

Lu Dalang and Shi Erlang, who just returned from carrying mud, only saw Sang Luo place the baskets on the tree branches to dry something and didn’t know what.

They had some restraint and didn’t pry. They thought it was probably the leftover fern roots their wives dried each year, soaking them in water in winter to make a good dish.

After finishing these chores, Sang Luo freed up an empty basket, tied up her pant legs, sprinkled some snake-repellent powder, and set out into the mountain.

Since she had found the sour jujubes, she wasn’t in a hurry to borrow hoes from the Chen family to dig konjac. With a dozen or so people around the house, sour jujubes were handled indoors, but konjac wasn’t so convenient. The house wasn’t finished yet, so she might as well wait to deal with it.

She instructed Shen An and Shen Ning before leaving and greeted Shi Erlang and the others, then ventured into the mountain.

***

Following the same path as yesterday but deeper in, Sang Luo took out the sour jujube peels wrapped in lotus leaves from her basket, chose a spot with loose soil covered with fallen leaves, dug a shallow pit with a stone axe, and buried them.

As for the pits, sour jujube kernels were originally a medicinal herb with several processing methods, one of which was drying. But drying them at home was obviously unsuitable. Even if someone peeked at the finished cakes, they wouldn’t recognize the ingredients. But the pits were easily identifiable at a glance.

Everyone in the village had eaten sour jujubes; in Sang Luo’s area, the southern sour jujube was also known as the “five-eyed fruit,” and the pits were very distinctive.

So Sang Luo didn’t process them further. She planned to wash and dry them at night, then pack them in a cloth bag and take them to the county pharmacy to see if they would accept them.

Today, she still gathered sour jujubes in the mountain. Taking advantage of the fruit’s ripening season to stock up was sensible.

Because making sour jujube cakes took time, by the time Sang Luo finished collecting a basketful and returned, it was already dinnertime. The lively atmosphere near the hut had quieted down, with only Shen An and Shen Ning still working outside, waiting for her.

When they saw her return, the siblings both breathed a sigh of relief, put down their stone hoes, and came over.

“Sister-in-law, did you go far?”

Since she had gone into the mountain and hadn’t returned until dusk, the two were naturally worried.

Sang Luo smiled, “Not too far, just a little deeper than yesterday.”

Shen Ning furrowed her delicate brows, “Sister-in-law, don’t go too deep if you leave late. It’s dangerous in the mountain after dark.”

“Alright, I’ll be careful.” The children were truly warmhearted, and Sang Luo was happy to hear that. She looked around and asked, “Has everyone gone to eat? Why didn’t you come down together?”

Shen An smiled faintly, “We’re not hungry. We’re waiting for you.”

He tiptoed to peek at the basket on Sang Luo’s back, saw the wild vegetables, and whispered, “Are those sour jujubes underneath?”

Shen Ning, excited, pointed to the side of the house, “Did you finish the ones you collected yesterday afternoon already?”

Both siblings had seen the large baskets hanging on the tree branches and were very curious but too short to see clearly.

Sang Luo laughed and nodded, “They still need to dry for three days. I’ll make another batch tonight. Then I’ll let you try some fresh sour jujube cakes. But we can’t call them that outside. We’ll have to use another name.”

Otherwise, the secret ingredient would be revealed.

The siblings nodded in unison, remembering to keep it secret even if their family sold them.

Shen Ning, who had regretted not seeing how the cakes were made because of afternoon chores, now brightened at the prospect of trying fresh cakes tonight. “Can we eat them?”

Maltose was precious, and their sister-in-law had even bought them wheat cakes today.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t we eat what we make ourselves? Now go wash up and get ready for dinner. Later, borrow a few big baskets from Grandma Chen, and tonight we’ll make this whole basketful.”

They hadn’t gone down yet, afraid the Chen family would wait for them and delay dinner.

Shen An and Shen Ning didn’t think much about that; just hearing about making more cakes tonight filled them with energy, and they hurried to wash their hands.

Sang Luo put the basket back inside the house.

***

As she was about to leave, having stepped outside, Shen An suddenly stopped, “Sister-in-law, I’ll stay home. Can you bring me some food back?”

To Shen An, their home was no longer just making fairy tofu but also sour jujube cakes—both essential for their future livelihood. There was a basket of sour jujubes inside; if the villagers got wind and rummaged through it, they would guess what the cakes were made of once they were sold.

He was very strict about guarding his sister-in-law’s recipe—almost to the point of fortification.

Thinking this, without waiting for her answer, he made up his mind not to leave, “That’s settled then. You and A Ning go down to eat. Just bring me some food back.”

Sang Luo thought for a moment and understood the children’s concerns, feeling genuinely touched. When she first time-traveled here, they were truly poor—utterly destitute.

Of course, they still were poor. The money earned daily was basically spent on food and household items, with no savings. To avoid attracting attention, Sang Luo bought food in small amounts every day, never stocking up.

Thus, she currently didn’t have a hundred coins saved.

Getting up in the middle of the night to make fairy tofu, leaving before dawn to set up her stall, walking twenty miles a day—though it sounded like just a few words, day after day it was truly exhausting.

But these two children were so sensible that no matter how hard Sang Luo worked, she never felt tired because she was never alone. The two children, though small and weak, gave their utmost effort to support and protect the family—and her.

Sang Luo had always been alone, but after coming into this world, through these two children who bore no blood relation to her, she understood for the first time what it meant to have family, to have companions.

She patted Shen An’s head, “Alright, then, thank you, little An. Sister-in-law will bring you some food later.”

Was that a compliment?

And “our little An” was the first time Shen An had heard such intimate words from his sister-in-law.

The child was a little excited.

Though young, Shen An was not exactly a child, especially having lost both parents early and then his older brother. As the elder brother, he had to protect his sister and was naturally more mature than his peers.

He understood some things—for example, that his sister-in-law was only bought back with half a sack of grain by his third aunt and was never truly married to his older brother. He had seen real marriages in the village, with bridal clothes and formal ceremonies—that was true marriage.

Therefore, if she took things seriously, she actually had no obligation to support him and his sister.

Shen An inwardly knew this and had once been afraid and uncertain deep down.

But his sister-in-law had never thought of abandoning them, not even when they were so hungry they could only eat bran, and not now. She treated him and his sister well these days.

This heartfelt closeness, this feeling of truly being a family, Shen An only fully realized just now.

He was a little overwhelmed, his tongue seemingly tied, struggling to speak, then finally managed, “I’m not the one working hard. Sister-in-law is the one who works the hardest.”

That joyful, eager desire to please or draw close to someone was beyond Shen An’s words. He just smiled, eyes crinkling, and urged, “Sister-in-law, hurry up and go.”

He thought, if he had time later, he would wash the fairy tree leaves so that she would have less work when she returned tonight.