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At dawn, the couple got up. As planned, they pulled all the vegetables from the courtyard to take back to Meiniang’s family home. Some vegetable seedlings were ready to plant. They took ten hens; the chicken coop wasn’t large enough to hold many more. Wan Changsheng killed two—one to make soup for that day, and one to be braised for the journey the next day.
They took two to her family home, and the remaining six could be carried along, though it would be a bit of a hassle. Once they settled into the manor, they would need eggs.
“Wife, I’ll lock the courtyard door from the outside later. You and our son can stay inside to pack. If anything happens, you can also leave through the back.”
Meiniang nodded. She didn’t want to be disturbed on their last day. She wasn’t familiar with the people in Wan Village and had nothing to talk about with them.
After Wan Changsheng left, Meiniang instructed her son, who was already awake, to eat breakfast and then pack his things. He didn’t need to take any old clothes.
She went to the kitchen to stew the chicken and quickly braised the other one. The braised chicken was then pan-fried and neatly placed in a small jar. In this weather, it wouldn’t spoil for a couple of days.
There was also plenty of smoked meat at home. In short, they packed everything they could.
Thinking that they might buy property elsewhere in the future, she felt happy. Changjia Village, He Village, and Wanjia Village were all close by. Many people here knew she had been a widow and that Ping’an was only a stepson.
In a new place, they could keep that a secret. The three of them would be a loving family, and Ping’an would be Wan Changsheng’s own son.
After eating breakfast, Ping’an watched his mother busy herself in the kitchen and quietly returned to his room.
Pack his things? He didn’t have much to pack. A large wooden chest would barely be half full if he didn’t take his old clothes; of course, once he got up tomorrow, he could fill it with his bedding.
But his father had said that the bedding would be bundled and taken to the manor; his master wouldn’t want such cheap bedding.
Baicaotang was unique in the Great Zhou Dynasty. There were medical halls all over the country. One day, could he achieve the same thing?
Compete with his master? He didn’t want that; he could worry about the future later.
Thinking of Erqiang, he smiled slightly. With this little guy around, his future wouldn’t be stagnant. He himself was too mature; having a real mischievous child would make life more interesting, wouldn’t it?
In a quarter of an hour, he had packed his things.
He wouldn’t take the old clothes; even if his mother hadn’t said anything, he wouldn’t have taken them. From now on, he would at least not wear patched-up clothes.
Money—he almost forgot! Ping’an immediately retrieved his money from under the kang: twenty-seven taels and two hundred copper coins.
His master seemed to like him quite a bit. In a few days, he would ask his master if he could occasionally gather herbs to earn some pocket money, and his master probably wouldn’t object.
Meanwhile, Meiniang was also packing her money bags. She put fifty taels in one pouch, which would be wrapped in her bedding. The remaining six taels and some change would be kept separately for expenses on the road.
This was all their wealth.
The cotton and a bolt of thick cloth would be taken to her mother’s home in the morning, and her sister-in-law would help make clothes from it. The remaining cloth and cotton were packed in a chest to be made into clothes later at the manor.
Thinking that her son would not be by her side in the future, she felt a pang of sadness. The child had never left her since birth. She didn’t know if he would miss her, but she truly couldn’t bear to be separated from him.
But what could she do? She couldn’t ask Young Master Sun to take them along. How could she say such a thing?
How could the master teach the child properly in front of his parents? If he was strict, his parents would feel sorry for him. If he wasn’t strict, he wouldn’t be able to teach him well.
The bird had grown up; she had to let it fly.
Around noon, the mother and son gathered the remaining greens in the front yard and made a simple vegetable and dumpling soup. Lunch was light; there would be chicken soup in the evening. At that moment, a loud knocking came from the courtyard gate.
Ping’an was puzzled. His father had locked the gate when he left, hadn’t he?
“Changsheng, Changsheng, open the door! It’s your aunt; I need to talk to you.”
Meiniang and her son remained silent. That annoying old aunt had come two or three times already, still hoping to have her grandson adopted into their family. She was pitiful and annoying at the same time.
“Grandma, the door is locked, and Uncle Changsheng and the others aren’t home,” a boy’s voice came faintly.
“They’re always going out! Changsheng wasn’t like this before; that widow has corrupted him.”
“Grandma, don’t say that; Uncle Changsheng will be unhappy if he hears you.”
“What am I afraid of? I’m his aunt; if he dares to scold me, he’s being unfilial. Let’s go; I’ll come back tomorrow.”
As the old woman walked away, she continued to mutter and scold.
Meiniang was almost amused. If they weren’t leaving tomorrow, she wouldn’t have tolerated it.
Ping’an looked at his mother and said, “Mother, it’s right to stay quiet. What’s the use of arguing? We’re leaving tomorrow. Once I’ve learned my skills, I’ll buy a big house for you in the prefecture, and we won’t come back here.”
Meiniang responded with reddened eyes, “Alright, I’ll listen to my son.”
In her heart, her son was the most important. Her husband was also important, but not as much as her beloved son.
Ping’an knew his mother was still feeling a bit uncomfortable. The word “widow” was the last thing his mother wanted to hear. Only by leaving this place could she escape hearing such things.
Meiniang seemed to forget the incident and calmly prepared lunch. The chicken wasn’t fully cooked yet, but the soup was ready. She ladled some soup into a pot, fried two eggs, and added some greens. Ping’an looked at the dumpling soup—the green vegetables, the bright yellow fried eggs, and the white dumplings looked tempting.
The gentle woman by the stove was his mother in this life. At twenty-five years old, she should have only recently graduated from university in his past life, but she had been a widow for six years, having taken care of her in-laws until their passing. Now, she was finally living a normal life.
Meiniang served two bowls and looked at her son. She smiled, “What are you looking at me for, son? Am I getting old?”
Ping’an grinned, “I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman than you, Mother. In the future, I’ll buy you gold jewelry, a different set every day.”
Meiniang laughed heartily, “A different set every day? Son, just buy me one gold set and one silver set; that will be enough.”
At that moment, she laughed genuinely.
What others said didn’t matter; what mattered was that she had the best son.
In the afternoon, Wan Changsheng returned home. Hearing his wife’s account of his aunt’s visit, he was amused. A distant relative who dared to say he would be unfilial—was she his mother?
“Don’t be angry. We’ll leave early tomorrow morning and won’t be back for a while. Even if we return in the future, it will only be for a few days. Wife, our family of three will settle down in the prefecture. Trust me.”
At that moment, Wan Changsheng was even more determined to buy property elsewhere.