When Li Xiaohan and Li Xiandong got home, Madam Wang was busy scrubbing and cleaning the house. With the festival coming up, everything needed to be tidied up a bit.

Seeing Li Xiandong walk in with delivery workers and a full cartload of furniture, Madam Wang’s eyes went wide with shock.

Li Xiandong and the worker carried the pieces into the main hall and arranged them properly. One of the more talkative workers praised enthusiastically, “Sir, your new house is built like the ones in the city—of course it deserves city-style furniture. Just look at how well it fits.”

After sending off the ox cart and the workers, Li Xiandong and Madam Wang looked around their home. For a moment, they couldn’t quite believe what they were seeing—an elegant writing desk, a solid Eight Immortals table, matching chairs. 

The once empty hall was now filled to the brim. The whole house felt different.

The worker was right. This new home really did suit the furniture from the city.

Li Xiandong nodded and said to Madam Wang, “Give these pieces a good clean. I’ll go return the ox cart to the clan head.”

“Alright,” Madam Wang replied.

She couldn’t bear to use their old cleaning rags on this new furniture. After thinking for a while, Madam Wang carefully used a new straw broom to sweep the dust off the surfaces.

Then she cut a new cloth to wipe them down thoroughly, afraid she might scratch the lacquer.

Li Xiaohan lay sprawled on a chair. Shopping had been exciting, but now she was so tired she felt drained.

She couldn’t understand why her father was still so energized. It was just a set of furniture. But maybe for him, it was like how modern people felt after buying a new house?

As for Madam Wang, the more she cleaned, the more pleased she became.

Looking at the elegant sheen, the thick lacquer, the delicate carvings—though she didn’t know the right words to describe them—she simply felt that being rich was a wonderful thing. She never imagined she’d get to live like this.

She carefully cleaned every single corner until there wasn’t a speck of dust left. Then she stood there admiring it for a long while before picking up the fine cotton cloth they had bought.

The fabric was easy to tell apart. The dark indigo must be for Li Xiandong, the soft goose yellow for Li Xiaohan, and the rest—though she could hardly believe it—was clearly meant for her.

Madam Wang gently rubbed the soft cotton, afraid her callused hands might snag the threads. In her whole life, the only time she’d worn a bright-colored outfit was at her wedding. She never thought she’d have another chance to wear even a deep red fine cotton dress.

She touched the goose-yellow cloth—it was even finer, with more vivid color. Madam Wang was already thinking about what kind of dress to make for Li Xiaohan.

She was thirteen now. In a couple of years, she’d be a young lady. Time to start making her some nice clothes.

Her life wasn’t too bad, but her daughter’s life—was even better. That was a wonderful thing.

Watching Madam Wang like this, Li Xiaohan was hit with a rush of mixed feelings—moved, but also unable to put it into words.

Some people, after suffering for so long, simply couldn’t believe they were allowed to enjoy sweetness.

For no reason, Li Xiaohan suddenly remembered her past life, with her wardrobe full of clothes. Back then, she never felt this kind of happiness.

Still, she believed that warm food and proper clothes were basic needs every person should have—no matter the era.

Which meant she still had a long way to go before reaching her ideal life. The revolution wasn’t finished yet. There was still work to be done.

Pushing aside those messy feelings, Li Xiaohan returned to reality. Thinking about how the fabric still needed to be washed before it could be worn made her even less inclined to move. She really missed the washing machines of her past life.

“Father, Mother, do we have enough money to dig a well? If we do, let’s get it done. Having a well would make everything easier.”

Forget washing machine freedom or running water—at least a private well could be added to the plan.

After hearing Li Xiaohan’s suggestion, Li Xiandong thought about how the public well was far from home. Getting water had always been inconvenient, especially when it came to washing and processing eucommia bark. Now that they had money, he responded generously, “Alright. I’ll go find someone to dig one tomorrow. If we wait until it freezes, we won’t be able to dig. I’ll carry a few buckets of water first so you and your mother can keep working.”

After hauling water, he went back to the fields to do farm work. Since he wasn’t going up the mountain today, he used the chance to clear out weeds. Work in the fields couldn’t be delayed any longer.

Meanwhile, Li Xiaohan and Madam Wang stayed in the house, continuing to wash, slice, and process the eucommia bark. In a farming household, there was never a moment of rest. But thinking about the silver they had earned, Li Xiaohan felt energized again.

As mother and daughter worked and chatted quietly, they suddenly heard a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” It was nearly dinnertime.

“Sister-in-law, it’s us—Dashan’s family.” It was Aunt Dashan’s voice outside the door.

Li Xiaohan raised an eyebrow. That’s surprisingly fast.

Inside, Madam Wang opened the door and welcomed them in.

“Oh! What brings you here?”

“Xiaohan said your family just moved, and you probably didn’t have time to save vegetable seeds, so I brought a few. They’re all from our own plot. I also brought over a few vegetables. We grew them ourselves, so they’re not anything special,” Madam Dashan said with a reserved smile.

As she spoke, Li Dashan set down the load on his shoulders. Two baskets full to the brim with vegetables.

This was not “a few.” It was a lot.

Even though they were just common vegetables like mustard greens, napa cabbage, and radishes, they were neatly arranged and very clean. It was clear that thought and effort had gone into the presentation.

Li Xiaohan raised her eyebrows as she studied the couple. She remembered mentioning the lack of vegetable seeds casually on the road, mostly out of concern for the two little kids and as a way to give her mother a chance to build some social connections. After all, the other aunts who came to learn processing were too dominant. Madam Wang always got overshadowed, which wasn’t good for someone like her.

But Aunt Dashan was a rare kind—gentler, even somewhat similar to Madam Wang. If her mother was going to open up socially, it was best to start with someone less aggressive.

Now seeing these two full baskets of vegetables, Li Xiaohan felt the couple was worth building deeper ties with.

As she thought this, two small children emerged from behind Madam Wang, each holding a napa cabbage. “Sister Xiaohan, this is for you. We picked them ourselves.”

“Really? Thank you so much! I love them,” Li Xiaohan squatted down and accepted the cabbages with a smile.

Madam Wang, having waited in vain for her daughter to speak up, had to step in with feigned calm. “Just the seeds would’ve been enough. Why bring so many vegetables too?”

“They’re just homegrown, don’t cost much. We’ve sold eucommia and bought real grains in the city, so now we’re eating fewer vegetables. Winter starts the day after tomorrow, so we wanted to bring Brother Xiandong and you something as a gesture,” Aunt Dashan said, her voice growing quieter. Even she thought it sounded a bit awkward—giving away extra vegetables as gifts.

If Li Xiaohan had known what Aunt Dashan was thinking, she would have found it familiar. It was just like her mother—lacking confidence, habitually belittling herself, and offering kindness while worrying it wouldn’t be accepted or might cause inconvenience.

Madam Wang, meanwhile, was at a loss. Someone bringing gifts to them? That had never happened before. They were always the ones giving gifts to respected elders.

Li Xiaohan couldn’t bear it anymore. “Mother, just accept them. Hua’er and Niu’er love your flatbreads. We’re having some tonight—why not teach Aunt Dashan how to make them, so she can cook them for the kids too? And Father, take Uncle Dashan to see how we’re storing the eucommia seeds. Improper storage could affect next year’s sprouting.”

With that, Li Xiaohan neatly assigned everyone their roles. Aunt Dashan got to learn how to make flatbread, Uncle Dashan got to learn how to store seeds, Li Xiandong could help build confidence, and Madam Wang had a good reason to accept the vegetables and start socializing.

That’s how relationships grow—you give, I respond, and slowly things become familiar.

As for the two little ones: “You two, come with me.”

Might as well look after them for a bit. Thankfully, Hua’er and Niu’er weren’t the troublesome kind.

That evening, after Aunt Dashan’s family had learned how to make flatbreads and how to preserve the eucommia seeds, they refused to stay for dinner. The four of them took the flatbreads Madam Wang had given them and only left after Madam Wang fiercely threatened not to accept their vegetables unless they took the flatbreads home. They thanked her repeatedly before leaving.

“We came to deliver vegetables to Brother Xiandong’s family, so why does it feel like we’re the ones who gained the most?” Aunt Dashan said uneasily.

“Brother Xiandong is a good man. We need to remember this kindness,” Uncle Dashan said after a moment of thought.

“Mm-hmm,” Aunt Dashan nodded quickly in agreement. “Hua’er, Niu’er, remember how good Uncle Xiandong’s family is, okay?”

“We know,” the two children chirped, “Big Sister Xiaohan is the best! I want to be just as impressive as her when I grow up!”

If their kids could be even half as good as Niece Xiaohan, the couple thought, they’d already be more than satisfied.

While the Dashan family walked home feeling like they had received a great favor, the Xiaohan household felt quite content as well.

After all, when Madam Wang was teaching how to make flatbreads and Li Xiandong was demonstrating how to properly store the eucommia seeds, they could explain things clearly, and they started holding themselves straighter. Their attitude was beginning to show.

As for Li Xiaohan herself, she said, “Mother, we can’t finish all these vegetables at once. Winter is almost here. Let’s pickle them tomorrow.”

In the winter, fresh vegetables are scarce, and pickled vegetables are a common household delicacy.

“Alright.”

Early the next morning, Li Xiandong left for town again. He needed to find someone to dig a well and to pick up the goat Li Xiaohan wanted.

Meanwhile, Li Xiaohan and Madam Wang began preparing to pickle vegetables.

The large, soft Chinese cabbages had their outer leaves removed, leaving behind tender green-and-white hearts. These were washed clean and hung on hemp ropes to dry.

The plump, round radishes had their leaves cut off, then scrubbed clean with straw, laid out on bamboo trays to dry.

The radish leaves were also washed clean and hung up to dry—those would be used for another dish.

The fresh green cucumbers were scrubbed with straw to remove prickles and blossoms. Since Li Xiaohan liked them crisp and tangy, she cut them into finger-length strips.

It was clear the Dashan family were honest people, the vegetables they brought were perfect for pickling.

While several clay jars for the pickles were still being washed, the front gate of the Li family opened, and Li Xiandong returned with one big and one small goat in tow.

“Wow, so this is the milking goat? It looks great!” Li Xiaohan looked at the goat as if she were already envisioning all kinds of dairy treats and was visibly delighted.

“Father, did you learn how to milk the goat from that Butcher Chen?”

The family had never raised goats before, so goat milking was something Li Xiandong had to learn on the fly.

“I did.” He handed her a ceramic jar the size of a soup pot. “Butcher Chen knew you wanted the goat for milk, so he filled a jar and sent it over this morning.”

“Perfect!” Li Xiaohan took it happily. “We’ll have something nice for lunch today. Father, Mother—watch me!”

While scrubbing the clay jars, Madam Wang smiled as she watched Li Xiaohan dash into the kitchen, thinking how lively and lovable her daughter was.

But then Li Xiaohan turned around and said, “Mother, we don’t have any old brine for pickling. You need to borrow some from someone else—pickles made without old brine don’t taste as good.”

Madam Wang froze, hesitating. “That… that’s not something easy to ask for…”

Her daughter was wonderful, but sometimes she acted like an old housewife, always pushing her to interact with others.

“What if we just don’t use the old brine?”Madam Wang asked hopefully after a moment.

“No way, Mother,” Li Xiaohan’s firm voice came from the kitchen. “Without old brine to start it, the pickled vegetables won’t have enough flavor. It’s not something valuable. Just ask Aunt Zhao for a bowl, or Aunt Dashan if that’s easier.”

That’s how relationships work. You give and take. If there’s no opportunity, create one.

“Alright then…” Madam Wang replied softly. Spotting Li Xiandong nearby, her eyes lit up. “Husband, come with me?”

Li Xiandong shrank back, quickly set down the bowl he was holding, and said, “Oh, I have to build a pen for the goats and fetch more water. Too busy. You go on without me.”

Madam Wang gave him a long, resentful look, but he remained unmoved. He led the goats to the backyard, then practically flew off carrying two buckets on a shoulder pole to the village well.

Left with no other choice, Madam Wang finished scrubbing the clay jars slowly, then finally decided to visit the Dashan household to ask for a bowl of old brine.

By the time she came back, Li Xiaohan had already finished making almond milk tea.

Fresh goat milk was simmered with a bit of tea. After removing the tea leaves, ground almond powder was added, followed by a bit of glutinous rice flour paste to thicken it. She stirred it constantly over low heat until the fragrance of almonds and milk became rich and creamy, then added some sugar and ginger juice.

On a chilly late autumn day, this fragrant, sweet, and slightly spicy drink warmed you from the stomach all the way to your bones, leaving you feeling relaxed and comfortably warm.

“This is delicious,” Madam Wang praised after finishing a bowl. “Better than the snacks sold in town.”

“Absolutely,” said Li Xiandong, helping himself to another bowl. At times like this, there was no such thing as men disliking sweets—life was hard, and everyone, young or old, man or woman, craved that little bit of sweetness.

“Good, right?” Li Xiaohan said as she savored the familiar taste. “But this doesn’t keep well. If we don’t finish it today, it’ll spoil by tomorrow. Father, you brought back too much. Later, bring a bowl to Third Great-Uncle, and another to Second Great-Uncle and Grandfather.”

Li Xiandong froze. How did it suddenly become his job?

“Husband, you go,” Madam Wang  said with a calm tone. “It’s our way of showing respect.”