The Husband Returns
Jiang Ya’s hair was soon washed.
Ye Li dried it with a cloth until it no longer dripped, then brought over another stool and gestured for Jiang Mai to lie down.
Jiang Mai obeyed and stretched out across the makeshift “stool bed.” Watching Ye Li carry the bucket back into the kitchen to fetch more hot water, he blinked.
For some inexplicable reason, he suddenly felt like a pig laid out on a New Year’s chopping board…
He shook his head sharply.
Nonsense.
The fool had truly changed. He had been gentle with Ya-ge’er just now.
Awkward, yet faintly expectant, Jiang Mai lay still as Ye Li returned with the bucket.
“Ya-ge’er, pour slowly. Don’t splash your second brother’s face.”
Ye Li handed the ladle to Jiang Ya.
“Okay.” Jiang Ya nodded solemnly.
He scooped half a ladle of warm water and, gripping it with both hands, let a thin stream trickle carefully onto Jiang Mai’s hair.
He aimed precisely at the hairline. Jiang Mai’s hair grew wet—but not a single drop touched his face.
“Steady hands! Ya-ge’er’s amazing.”
Jiang Ya’s lips curved with pride. He was capable!
“If you’re this capable, I’ll reward you with an extra egg at noon.”
“Wow!” Jiang Ya’s eyes sparkled. “I love eggs!” He nodded eagerly.
Jiang Mai couldn’t help muttering, “Eggs are supposed to be saved and sold.”
That had been the rule before.
Ever since the fool married in, no eggs had been saved.
They had finally managed to accumulate a few these past days—now they were going to eat them?
“We can all earn money now. We don’t need to fuss over a few eggs,” Ye Li replied while rubbing soap into Jiang Mai’s hair. “You poured water well earlier too—didn’t get any in Ya-ge’er’s eyes. You get an extra egg as well. Don’t you want one?”
Jiang Mai: “… ”
Of course he did.
“Second Brother, eat it,” Jiang Ya urged. “We earn wages every day.”
“Exactly. After two more days of selling tofu puffs, I’ll go to the county and buy meat. We’ll stew it.”
Ye Li’s tone turned almost reverent.
He had been eating bean pulp and tofu nonstop. As a modern soul, how was he supposed to endure this blandness forever?
And too much tofu wasn’t even healthy.
He rose before dawn daily to grind beans. If he couldn’t eat properly, he might as well die.
“Meat?” Jiang Ya’s eyes grew even brighter. His shy composure crumbled into pure excitement. “Li-ge, really?”
“Of course. I want meat too. And your second brother certainly does. When we buy it, we’ll each gnaw on big bones to our hearts’ content.”
“It’s settled. I’ll buy some in a couple of days.”
“Ya-ge’er, keep pouring. Time to rinse.”
“Yes!” With big bones as motivation, Jiang Ya answered loudly.
Jiang Mai suddenly realized—his hair was nearly done.
He felt dazed.
The fool had truly washed both their hair… and now spoke of stewing meat.
“All right. Stand in the sun to dry. I’ll start lunch.”
Ye Li wrapped Jiang Mai’s head in a dry cloth and ushered him up, ignoring the complicated look in the boy’s eyes.
—
The Jiang household kept five hens. In spring, they laid diligently—five eggs a day.
Ye Li had been here six days. Thirty eggs had accumulated.
He pulled more garlic shoots from the garden and stir-fried them with eggs.
The rich fragrance filled the kitchen and drew Jiang Ya in like a magnet. Ye Li slipped him a tender piece of egg, earning a radiant grin.
He steamed more corn cakes and placed two eggs atop the steamer—rewards for the boys.
Just as lunch was ready, villagers came to buy tofu. By the time Ye Liang arrived, ten jin had already sold.
Good.
The remainder would become tofu puffs and skewers. But judging by today’s demand, even that wouldn’t suffice.
“You should make more tomorrow,” Ye Liang said cheerfully. “I reckon twenty jin would sell out.”
“I’ll try.”
Ye Li dared not promise. Grinding was exhausting.
Still, such opportunity could not be wasted.
“Add boiled eggs and firm tofu to the stall,” he suggested. “Buy tofu when you pass through the county.”
Ye Liang nodded. Tofu would work. Eggs were riskier—he would start with five. If unsold, the family would eat them.
—
That night, Ye Li soaked five extra jin of soybeans.
One jin yielded one and a half jin of puffs. Five more jin meant seven and a half extra jin of product.
Even so, demand might exceed supply.
Eighteen jin a day was his physical limit.
He was in a young ge’er’s body. Grinding half an hour at three in the morning left his arms trembling.
He could not increase production further.
Ye Liang felt regret.
He could grind—but then he would also need to cook, fry, and transport everything fifty li daily. Impossible in one day.
—
On the ninth day since Ye Li’s arrival in this world, after breakfast, he tucked two hundred wen into his pouch and headed toward the county.
Fresh air at last.
Wild Jujube Slope lay only three li away. Soon he stood before the towering city gate—over ten meters high.
Two constables stood guard. He stated he was there to buy goods and was waved through.
He went straight to the butcher.
Prime pork belly and fat were gone. He bought four marrow bones instead—twelve wen per jin—and two jin of hind leg meat.
Painfully, he counted out over eighty wen.
Meat was fragrant—but expensive.
He bought spices next—peppercorns, star anise, black pepper—and a small jar of yellow wine for de-scenting.
Another forty wen gone.
He hurried home.
With only one iron pot, he stir-fried the pork first with garlic shoots, then blanched the marrow bones.
As the water boiled and he skimmed foam from the surface, Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya returned.
“Li-ge! Did you buy meat?” Jiang Ya cried, dropping his basket and racing inside.
“I did.”
The answer alone sent him whooping.
He peered into the pot and gasped. “So much?”
“Your elder brother comes back tomorrow. Four big bones—cut into eight pieces. Two each.”
“Two each?” Jiang Ya’s eyes went round. “I get two?”
“Of course. You’re part of this family.”
Jiang Ya’s face bloomed with joy. “Li-ge, I’ll tend the fire!”
Meanwhile, Jiang Mai lingered at the doorway.
“Eight bones,” Jiang Ya announced proudly. “Two each!”
Jiang Mai kept his composure. “You tend the fire. I’ll chop fodder.”
But Ye Li noticed.
The boy was allowing Jiang Ya to stay alone with him now.
Progress.
He stopped Jiang Mai. “Take a bowl of stir-fried pork to your Second Uncle.”
Jiang Dahe was both benefactor and guardian. They could not eat meat without sharing.
—
The bones simmered for hours.
Villagers buying tofu sniffed the aroma and marveled.
The Jiang household was truly prospering.
When Ye Liang arrived, the soup was ready.
Ye Li ladled him a large bowl and tried to press an extra bone upon him.
Ye Liang fled into the yard, bowl in hand, evading his brother’s insistence.
They circled the courtyard in mock battle.
At the kitchen door, Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya gnawed on their bones and watched gleefully.
Then—
A tall, lean figure appeared at the gate.
All four turned simultaneously.
“Xiao Ji?” Ye Liang exclaimed. “Why are you back so early?”
Ye Li blinked and slowly lowered the bone in his hand.
Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya burst out, “Elder Brother!” and ran forward, bones clutched in their small fists.
Jiang Ji stood silently at the entrance.
His gaze swept the courtyard once.
Yes. This was his home. The Spring Festival couplets he had written still hung on either side of the door.
The two boys running toward him were indeed his younger brothers.
But…
What exactly had he just witnessed?
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