Chapter 13: Delivering Meat

Following the child around the door, she saw several persimmon trees growing in the courtyard. Over the past two days, snow had fallen, melted into water, and now clung to the branches.

The bright orange persimmons hung on the trees, glowing like lanterns against the gloomy sky.

“Hammer! Hammer! Lift me up!” The child eagerly tried to pick a persimmon, but he was too short and had to turn to a muscular man nearby for help.

Wen Ruyu recognized this “Hammer.”

She remembered that Hammer was in his late twenties, nearly thirty now. Over ten years ago, he lost his family and became a beggar.

At that time, Wen Ruyu’s husband had already passed the provincial examination and had servants under him, along with some spare money.

One day, he came across Hammer begging on the street and gave him a bowl of noodles. From then on, Hammer started following him.

Seeing Hammer’s great strength, honest nature, and simple-mindedness, her husband decided to take him in. Now, Hammer worked as the family’s carriage driver.

Having served in the Lu family for over a decade, he was considered an old and trusted servant, so the adults had no problem letting the children play under his watch.

At first, they didn’t notice Wen Ruyu, but when she approached, Hammer quickly bowed to her.

Looking at his muscular physique, Wen Ruyu recalled from the original host’s memories that he had looked the same even ten years ago. He must have been naturally gifted with a strong physique.

“Hammer, you’re wearing so little—aren’t you cold?”

Though nearly thirty, Hammer had a childlike innocence in his eyes, which was rare to see.

“Not cold! I have thick skin!” he replied, scratching his head and smiling shyly. Despite his cheerful demeanor, he seemed slightly self-conscious in front of someone of Wen Ruyu’s status.

She smiled—she quite liked Hammer’s straightforward personality. He truly seemed like an honest man.

Turning her attention to the persimmons, their golden-yellow color was pleasing to the eye.

She always knew persimmons were a late autumn and winter fruit, but she hadn’t expected them to be so frost-resistant. Even when the plum blossoms hadn’t bloomed yet, the persimmons still clung to the branches.

“It’s freezing, and you’re still craving fruit?” she teased. Then, after a moment’s thought, she added, “Hammer, pick a basketful. Tell the kitchen to dry them into persimmon cakes.”

In the modern world, there were too many fruit options. In her past life, she preferred cherries and strawberries during the festive season. But now, with fewer choices, persimmons would do just fine—though she reminded herself not to eat too many, as they could cause kidney stones.

Persimmon trees were easy to grow, requiring little soil or climate conditions. Here, most households with land planted either date trees or persimmon trees—they bore many fruits and were easy to maintain.

In modern times, these persimmons would be labeled “organic” and sold at a premium in supermarkets.

Seeing that Wen Ruyu had given her approval, Hammer grinned and nodded. She then instructed Chuntao, her maid, to fetch a basket from the kitchen so Hammer could start picking.

The people beneath the tree chattered, startling the thickly feathered birds perched above, making them flap their wings and fly away.

After watching for a while, Wen Ruyu felt a bit cold. She warmed her hands on her hand warmer and told the children to return home after picking the persimmons—they only wanted a taste, and now that they had some, they would be satisfied.

As for Hammer, with his tough skin and strong body, she didn’t worry about him. He seemed like someone who could withstand harsh conditions.

After instructing Hammer to deliver the persimmons to the kitchen, Wen Ruyu left with her servant, Yan Momo, to visit her eldest daughter-in-law.

At the door, she asked the servants if her daughter-in-law was awake. After confirming she was, Wen Ruyu entered the room.

The little child was already asleep on the bed, mouth slightly open, tongue sticking out—a face that resembled neither the mother nor the father, making him oddly adorable.

Not wanting to wake the child, Wen Ruyu refrained from picking him up and instead sat beside her daughter-in-law for a chat.

“You’re here alone—does Songnian not help you with the child?” she asked.

Zhao Shi was slightly surprised. Her mother-in-law always believed that men should focus on great endeavors and never encouraged them to linger in the household.

When she was first pregnant, her husband was overjoyed and stayed home for a few extra days, neglecting his studies. Wen Ruyu had scolded him for that.

Why was she suddenly saying something different today?

However, since her mother-in-law seemed to be expressing concern for her, Zhao Shi naturally had no complaints.

Elders changing their stance wasn’t a big deal—as long as her mother-in-law had her best interests at heart, she was happy.

“Next year is the imperial exam, and he’s worried about it. He’s fallen behind on his studies and needs to review and memorize a lot. In a few days, he and his younger brother will visit the academy to seek guidance from a teacher on policy discussions. I don’t really understand much of it. Mother told me to rest for a few days, so I’m just focusing on taking care of the child. It’s not too troublesome.”

“Not troublesome? Taking care of a child is the most exhausting task,” Wen Ruyu countered.

Managing a household was one thing—servants could be disciplined if they disobeyed. But raising a child? Their sleep schedule was unpredictable, they couldn’t be scolded, and if they cried, they had to be comforted. It was exhausting.

Wen Ruyu had seen many modern women struggle with post-childbirth life. Some friends of hers, after giving birth, not only found their old clothes no longer fit but also struggled with hormonal imbalances and changes in their social circles.

Marriage problems were common, too. Some couples found their bond strengthened after having a child, but in Wen Ruyu’s experience, most faced endless troubles.

Even wealthier friends who could afford nannies still had countless issues.

One of her closest friends had completely lost interest in intimacy after childbirth. Her husband, though patient and supportive, eventually sought comfort elsewhere. Their once-happy marriage ended in divorce, leaving Wen Ruyu disillusioned about relationships.

These problems existed in ancient times, too, though they were “solved” by allowing men to take multiple wives and concubines. But Wen Ruyu saw that as nothing more than suppressing women’s autonomy to create an illusion of harmony.

Because of this, she was quite partial to her daughter-in-law—perhaps even more than to her own son. Fortunately, her eldest son was responsible, so there wasn’t much to criticize.

“There’s a wet nurse to help, so it’s not too difficult,” Zhao Shi said, content with her situation.

Her mother-in-law protected her, and her husband treated her well—what more could she ask for?

Wen Ruyu chatted with her for a while.

After some time, the baby woke up crying, and Zhao Shi hurried to tend to him.

Wen Ruyu took that as her cue to leave.

She had no intention of helping care for the child—after all, he wasn’t hers. If help was needed, she’d rather tell her eldest son to handle it.

As she exited the room, Yan Mama suddenly remembered something.

“Madam, I just recalled—Hammer’s wife was pregnant before, but I recently heard that she lost the baby.”

Wen Ruyu was surprised. “Hammer is nearly thirty, and he’s still having children?”

“She got pregnant, so there wasn’t much choice,” Yan Mma replied sympathetically.

“How many children does he have?”

“Only one daughter.”

Hearing the word “only,” Wen Ruyu frowned slightly but said nothing.

“He probably wanted a son, didn’t he?”

“Most likely.”

After a moment of thought, Wen Ruyu instructed, “Go to the kitchen, get two large bones, two pounds of good meat, and a packet of brown sugar. Deliver them to Hammer’s wife. Tell them it’s from me, and she should take care of herself.”

She wasn’t about to send extravagant gifts like ginseng or deer antler—it was just a servant’s family, after all. But two pounds of meat was already a generous gesture from a master to a servant.

By the time she returned to her room, it was nearly time for dinner.