Chapter 25: Stealing Meat

As soon as Lin Furong’s mother said they had no money, the Song woman immediately jumped up and shouted, “How could your family not have money? That matchmaker handed over a gold ingot in front of the entire village! I’m not even asking for much—just one guàn.”

One guàn? Wen Lan, familiar with Southern Dynasty currency exchange, knew that one gold ingot was equal to one liǎng (tael) of gold, which could be exchanged for ten taels of silver. One tael of silver was equivalent to one guàn, or one thousand copper coins.

And this Song woman had the nerve to ask for a whole guàn. Who gave her that kind of audacity?

“We really don’t have a guàn of cash at home.” Wen Lan looked directly at her and said firmly, “There’s only one gold ingot. Unfortunately, we can’t just break it into pieces to use, so Auntie Song, you’d best try somewhere else.”

There was no way Auntie Song would give up so easily. She dragged over a stool, sat down, and held Wen Lan’s hand like a wise elder, saying earnestly, “Even if the gold can’t be broken, it can be exchanged. If you find it troublesome, I can help you with the exchange.”

Hmph! Wen Lan sneered.

From Lin Furong’s memories, she knew this chubby woman had a thick skin, but she hadn’t expected her to be this shameless.

Did she think their family’s money jar was made of paper—that she could just reach in and take what she wanted?

“I already told you our family’s gold can’t be broken. ‘Can’t be broken’ means we’re not lending,” Wen Lan made it clear. “Besides, I have no obligation to lend you money, Auntie Song.”

“This isn’t lending to me—it’s lending for our little Bao!” Auntie Song argued. “Furong, our little Bao calls you ‘big sister’ all the time. Now that you’ve struck it lucky, you can’t just ignore your little brother, can you?”

Wen Lan replied coolly, “For so many years I’ve also been calling you ‘auntie’ this and ‘auntie’ that, but I don’t recall you saying anything nice about me to others. So this kind of forced family tie doesn’t count for much.”

“You—!” Auntie Song turned red and white, stunned by Wen Lan’s sharp words. She had never expected that Lin Furong—usually as silent as a stone—could speak so sharply now.

Fine. She would be the bigger person and not stoop to her level.

“Forget it. If you won’t lend, I’ll go ask someone else.” Auntie Song stood up as she spoke, but her beady eyes had locked onto the two bundles of meat in Lin Mutou’s arms.

She was the type who couldn’t pass someone’s house without sneaking a stick of firewood. Now seeing all that meat suddenly show up in the Lin household, there was no way she was letting it go.

“How about this,” she suddenly said, “since you don’t have money to lend, I’ll just take a bundle of meat to try. That way outsiders won’t say your family is stingy.”

As she spoke, her hand reached out toward the meat in Mutou’s arms.

Wen Lan grabbed her chubby wrist.

“Auntie Song, the meat I brought back is venison. It’s dry and heating in nature—you’re already full of liver fire this autumn, and I’m afraid your body can’t handle it.”

She was telling the truth. Having studied traditional Chinese medicine with a focus on health preservation and being a food lover herself, Wen Lan knew what ingredients were suitable for which kinds of people.

The meat she’d brought home today really wasn’t suitable for someone like Auntie Song.

And she knew that woman was gluttonous and lazy—if she got her hands on something delicious, she’d devour every bit.

Otherwise, how would she have gotten so fat?

Of course, Auntie Song didn’t care. She yanked her hand free from Wen Lan’s grip, snatched one of the bundles from Mutou’s arms, and bolted toward the door.

Lin Furong’s mother tried to stop her but failed. All she could do was stomp her feet in frustration and curse the woman three times over.

“Forget it,” Wen Lan said, trying to calm her. “She’s already taken it. Just treat it like we fed a dog.”

“But at least dogs wag their tails when you feed them. Giving it to her is like feeding a wolf—you don’t get thanks, and who knows when she’ll bite us again.”

“Don’t worry,” Wen Lan reassured her. “Mother, just wait and see—she won’t be feeling so great after eating that venison.”

“Huh? Really? Don’t tell me that meat was poisoned?”