Chapter 22: You Think Sausage Grows on Trees?

When He Ningwen awoke, the night outside was already deep.

She shifted slightly, feeling the soft bedding beneath her and the warmth enveloping her. It was the most comfortable sleep she’d had in days.

A slight movement beside her roused Su Yi’an.

Su Yi’an reached out and touched He Ningwen’s forehead. Reassured that the fever had subsided, she asked, “Are you still feeling unwell anywhere?”

He Ningwen shook her head. She tried to say she was fine, but her throat was too dry and hoarse to speak.

Su Yi’an rose and poured her a bowl of water. A small medicinal stove burned steadily in the corner, keeping the water warm.

He Ningwen sat up halfway and took the porcelain bowl. After swallowing a few mouthfuls, her throat finally eased.

She had no memory of running a fever during the day or how she’d managed to descend the mountain. Her last clear memory was of being deep in the woods, unable to find firewood.

“Why didn’t you say you were feeling unwell? You still followed Mother into the deep mountains to chop wood,” Su Yi’an said, stacking two pillows against the wall so He Ningwen could lean back. Her tone carried a hint of reprimand.

“I don’t feel unwell,” He Ningwen mumbled, her head bowed as she sipped her drink. She knew she was in the wrong and didn’t dare meet Su Yi’an’s gaze.

“I’m not scolding you. Your mother was terrified when you fainted on the mountain. If He Zhong hadn’t been there, she wouldn’t have been able to carry you down.” Mother He had told them everything upon returning.

Su Yi’an hated owing favors, especially when she didn’t know how to repay them. Everyone in Yongyang Village knew what kind of person Second Aunt He was, yet it was her family who had helped them this time.

“And you didn’t say a word about your frostbite!” Su Yi’an exclaimed, having only noticed it when getting He Ningwen’s slippers.

The patched-up shoes were already too small for her. Though lined with thin cotton, He Ningwen’s feet were crammed inside, her toes red and swollen.

Embarrassed, He Ningwen nodded. “Sister Su, I’ll definitely tell you next time.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Su Yi’an said, adding more firewood to the stove. When the water in the clay pot began to boil, she brought over a wooden basin.

“Wrap yourself up warmly and soak your feet,” she said, patting He Ningwen’s head.

He Ningwen obediently followed her instructions.

Su Yi’an left her to soak and went to the kitchen to prepare some food.

The midday meal had been lackluster, with plenty of noodles and sausages left untouched. She didn’t plan to cook anything else; on such a cold day, a warm soup was most comforting.

She squatted before the stove, kindling a fire to boil water. As she worked, she heard a sound at the doorway.

Looking up, she saw He Yunhuai standing there with an oil lamp.

Su Yi’an continued her tasks without pausing. When the water boiled, she added the noodles to the pot.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

He Yunhuai entered and placed the lamp on a bamboo shelf. “I’m not hungry. Has Little Sister woken up?”

He Ningwen had been feverish since returning. Only after drinking a dose of herbal medicine had she shown signs of improvement.

Originally, Mother He and the others had stayed to watch over her, but as night deepened, Su Yi’an had urged them to rest.

“Yes, she’s much more alert now. Go check on her,” Su Yi’an replied. She cracked an egg into the simmering soup and ladled the noodles and broth into a bowl.

There was plenty of sausage left from lunch, so Su Yi’an added a few slices. Soon, a steaming bowl of hand-pulled soup noodles was ready.

Seeing He Yunhuai standing motionless, Su Yi’an turned. “Want to come too?”

He Yunhuai casually took the bowl from her hand and followed her. “I’ll carry it.”

Inside the room, He Ningwen had been soaking for some time. Only when the water cooled did she dry off and burrow back under the covers.

Being young, her cold was already fading. She felt much better, though her stomach was starting to rumble.

She didn’t know what Sister Su was doing, but she was too afraid to leave the bed, worried she’d catch another chill and be scolded.

“Hungry?” Su Yi’an pushed open the door with one hand, holding an oil lamp in the other. “Come eat something before you sleep.”

He Ningwen’s stomach growled loudly at the aroma of the noodles.

“Sister Su, how did you know I was hungry?” she peeked out from under the quilt—only to see her second brother entering as well.

“Second Brother! You’re here too!” she exclaimed excitedly.

He Yunhuai, who usually doted on her, remained silent. His face was grave as he set the bowl and chopsticks on the small bedside table.

“Second Brother…” He Ningwen sensed something was wrong.

Sure enough, the words had barely left her lips when she received a light tap on the forehead.

Noticing her pleading gaze, Su Yi’an shook her head helplessly. “Eat first. It won’t taste good if it gets cold.”

He Ningwen made a face and picked up her bamboo chopsticks, stirring the noodles in her bowl.

“The egg!” Despite not crying from the earlier tap, tears welled in her eyes at the sight of it.

Su Yi’an assumed she was feeling unwell and didn’t want it, but before she could speak, He Ningwen blurted out:

“Six wen! Sister Su could sell this for six wen!” She felt like she’d lost six wen. She hadn’t finished her embroidery or gathered enough firewood—and instead of earning money, she’d spent what little she had.

“You’re so young to be this obsessed with money. Your health matters more. Eat and rest,” Su Yi’an said, checking the window again for drafts.

He Yunhuai, seeing his sister was unharmed, finally relaxed. The scolding he’d prepared now seemed unnecessary.

“You should rest early,” he said, hand hidden in his sleeve, gently rubbing it. The soup bowl had been scalding hot, and his fingertips were still flushed red.

Su Yi’an was genuinely tired. Seeing him take the initiative to leave, she didn’t try to persuade him to stay. She rose and went to the door, ready to bolt it shut behind him.

He Yunhuai: …

Later that night, He Ningwen suddenly perked up, tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep.

She savored the taste of the sausage noodle soup, thinking how much better it was than plain noodles. Those cost five copper coins a bowl—but this… this sausage noodle soup must cost at least six!

Mid-December brought even harsher cold.

After three days of medicinal broth, He Ningwen had largely recovered. Being confined indoors had left her thoroughly stifled.

That morning, after much deliberation, she finally shared her idea with Su Yi’an.

Su Yi’an had long wanted to set up a food stall, but failing to sell sausages that day had shaken her confidence.

Hearing He Ningwen’s suggestion now, she grew convinced it was a good plan.

If the sausages couldn’t sell on their own, they could be served with rice. Even a small amount of meat would make a savory dish.

Moreover, if customers liked the food, they might buy the sausages separately, creating a steady business.

Su Yi’an rubbed He Ningwen’s face and couldn’t resist giving her another kiss. “Good girl,” she said, smiling.

With a plan in place, she no longer kept it secret. Running a noodle stall was different from selling sausages alone—it meant setting up in town, boiling water, kneading dough. A huge undertaking she couldn’t do alone.

“Mother, I think this food business is a great idea! Look how much better I felt the day after eating Sister Su’s noodles,” He Ningwen said, hugging Mother He’s arm and shaking it gently.

Mother He hesitated. She wasn’t sure if running a street stall was wise.

The He family was struggling. If they could earn money, they shouldn’t worry about pride. But setting up a stall in town…

“This business is just an idea for now. It all depends on whether it can turn a profit. As it gets colder, cutting firewood will become impossible,” Su Yi’an pointed out.

“Why not give it a try? If it works, we can earn some money this winter. If not, we’ll think of something else.”

With the conversation reaching this point, Mother He couldn’t refuse. Besides, He Ningwen’s illness had been caused by the cold. If they could earn more, they could buy thicker clothes for the winter.

Huai’an Town – Bright Moon Inn

Manager Ren sat languidly in his reclining chair, idly fingering a string of prayer beads.

Today was the fifth and final day of the deadline, and he was eagerly waiting for his chef to bring out the sausage.

How difficult could a pork dish be? he thought. Five days should have been more than enough.

But the sausage still hadn’t arrived. Finally, he sent a young servant to the kitchen to hurry the chef along.

“It was supposed to be served with the noon meal. Why isn’t it ready yet?” the servant called as he entered, voice sharp.

“Is he trying to squeeze more money out of the manager because five taels isn’t enough? Let me tell you, the manager—”

The servant’s voice abruptly died as his eyes widened in shock at the sight before him.

“What… what is this thing?!”