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At the back courtyard gate, the two women paused. Inside, the chickens huddled in a corner, shivering.
There were yellow ones, white ones, and even a few entirely black ones.
The leader, a speckled old hen, raised her head proudly. When she saw Wan Chunmei approaching, she reluctantly tucked her sharp little beak away.
Aunt Yu clapped her hands in surprise, exclaiming, “Sister, this is impressive! With so many chickens, you could earn quite a bit of money.”
Wan Chunmei’s face clouded with worry. “We’ve taken the eggs to town to sell before, but it’s not easy. The trip takes nearly an hour if we hurry, and two hours if we’re slower. Look at this weather—on such a freezing day, if it snows, we wouldn’t even make it there. The chickens might freeze to death before we arrived.”
She sighed deeply and continued, “Besides, Pingyang County and the nearby villages don’t have many well-off households. Most are just farmers. How many people can afford to eat chicken even once a year? I’m afraid we wouldn’t sell much.”
Wan Chunmei wasn’t wrong.
Sometimes, even if you have something good, it doesn’t mean anyone can afford it or even wants to buy it. At times like these, the best things can end up sitting idle.
Aunt Yu pondered this and asked, “Have you tried asking the restaurants or taverns in town if they need chickens?”
Wan Chunmei hesitated. Tan Erqian had already looked into it, but those establishments usually had regular suppliers for chickens, ducks, and fish. For ordinary mountain farmers like them, breaking into such arrangements was almost impossible. Pushing too hard might even stir up unnecessary trouble.
She didn’t say all this out loud, simply shaking her head. “It’s not feasible. It won’t work.”
Aunt Yu, being a worldly woman, understood immediately after thinking it over. Looking at the courtyard full of chickens, she felt troubled as well. After a while, inspiration struck her.
“Sister, don’t you know how to make pickled vegetables?”
Wan Chunmei nodded. “Yes, I do.”
Aunt Yu smiled brightly. “Then why not pickle the chickens as well?”
Wan Chunmei was stunned. “You mean… make pickled chicken?”
Aunt Yu nodded enthusiastically. “Your pickling skills are excellent. Pickled chicken would probably taste amazing! Think about it—if live chickens are hard to transport to town, jars of pickled chicken would be much easier. Plus, pickled goods last a long time. If you don’t sell them all today, you can sell them tomorrow—or even take them by boat to other counties to sell.”
Wan Chunmei listened to her words, feeling as though she were hearing an unbelievable tale. She had never thought so far ahead. When she had first started pickling vegetables, it was simply to avoid wasting the surplus from her garden.
Tan Erqian, who had just stepped out of the house, overheard the conversation and thought the idea had merit. He hurried over and said, “Mother, Mother, this auntie is right. This is definitely a workable plan.”
Aunt Yu squinted her big eyes and smiled. “Look at that! Your child has experience from being in the county—so knowledgeable!”
Wan Chunmei turned to Tan Erqian and asked, “Is this really feasible?”
Tan Erqian grinned. “It’s doable, absolutely. I’ll talk to Shopkeeper Bai and see if we can sell it at the Bai family’s rice shop. If it doesn’t sell well, we can just leave it there a bit longer to try again.”
Seeing that even Erqian supported the idea, Wan Chunmei hesitated no longer. Slapping her hands together, she said, “Alright then, tomorrow I’ll give it a try and figure out how to pickle the chickens.”
“Mother’s skills are impeccable. There’s no way it won’t work,” Tan Erqian said with a smile.
After he finished speaking, he glanced at the old hen in the yard and added, “But Mother, that old hen is the treasure of our family. You can pickle any chicken, but not that one.”
Wan Chunmei gave him a light smack on the head. “Does your mother not know that? Now off you go—back inside. It’s cold out here.”
“Yes, Mother.” Tan Erqian chuckled and turned back into the house.
Just then, the younger Tan siblings—Tan Sanyuan, Tan Siwen, and Tan Wuguan—returned home as well.
After walking Aunt Yu to the edge of the village, Wan Chunmei finally headed back home.
That night, the wind howled for hours on end.
The next morning, when the family awoke, they found the entire yard blanketed in snow. Outside, the world was draped in silver, a vast expanse of white stretching as far as the eye could see.
The youngest Tan children dashed excitedly outdoors, throwing themselves into the snow.
“Mother, Father, it’s snowing! It’s snowing!”
Even the older siblings, Tan Yiliang and Tan Erqian, couldn’t help themselves. They jumped into the snow, stomping and playing as though they were children again.