Chapter 34: Where the Chickens Go

“Earned so much silver? How? How much exactly?”

Jiang Dahe set down the basket from his mother’s back and held it in his hand. Hearing his niece’s words, his face lit with curiosity.

“Let’s talk inside—it’s not convenient out here.”

Zhang Jinlan chuckled softly and glanced around.

Even though she didn’t see any villagers nearby, she dared not speak openly at the doorway.

After all, wealth must not be flaunted.

She shooed her family into the house.

“Mother, the food’s ready—wash your hands and come eat.”

As they stepped into the courtyard, Zhu Yingqiu happened to emerge from the kitchen. Seeing her mother-in-law and niece return, she raised her voice.

“No rush—take the pork from the basket and slice it. Stir-fry it with the leftover pickled greens. Tonight, everyone’s going to eat their fill!”

Zhang Jinlan burst into laughter, her wrinkled face creasing into folds.

“Mother, did you find money on the ground? Why’d you even buy pork? All you had were those eggs—did you sell them all and spend it on meat? How come you’re so generous today? You planning on squandering everything away?”

Sun Pingmei came out from the main room, teasing.

But the joy in her eyes couldn’t be hidden.

To her, having meat was no different from celebrating New Year.

“Find money? You think silver just lies around on the ground waiting for me? Today I earned almost four taels of silver! Hahaha!”

Excitement bubbled in Zhang Jinlan’s voice.

She untied her money pouch and pulled out three small pieces of broken silver.

The copper coins from selling eggs still lay untouched inside.

“Where’d that come from? Selling eggs could never fetch so much! Mother—you didn’t steal it, did you? Did anyone see? Tch—ouch!”

Sun Pingmei yelped as her mother-in-law flicked her forehead, hard enough to sting.

“What stealing! Why do you all think I’d stoop to thieving?”

Zhang Jinlan was furious.

Her son doubted her.

Her daughter-in-law doubted her.

The Jiang family exchanged glances but said nothing.

To be fair, Zhang Jinlan’s reputation as a shrewish, unreasonable woman had long been carved deep into their hearts.

If someone claimed she stole money, well… it didn’t sound impossible.

“I sold eggs with Fubao today, then strolled through the market. Happened to run into a young lad. His mother had just died—must’ve been from a wealthy family, judging by his fine clothes. Her body was still warm, lying outside the clinic. He was about the same age as Tongji—how could a child that size lift a corpse?

So he cried out on the street: whoever helped carry his mother’s body home would be paid. The moment I heard, I went.

And guess what? His father’s concubine—the boy’s stepmother—wouldn’t even open the door. She threw out three taels and five mace, told him to buy a coffin and bury his mother in a pauper’s graveyard.

The poor boy had no choice. I carried his mother to the coffin shop. He was generous—handed me all three taels and five mace on the spot. Who knows how he planned to buy the coffin without money… but I kept quiet. If I’d asked, maybe he’d have regretted it and snatched the silver back.”

Zhang Jinlan finished her tale.

The Jiang family’s eyes went wide.

“Mercy me—you dared to carry a corpse? Mother-in-law, I respect you!”

At the word “corpse,” Sun Pingmei squealed, clutching her husband’s arm in terror.

“Mother, it’s my fault.”

Jiang Dahe lowered his head, full of guilt. If only he were capable of earning, finding day labor—his mother wouldn’t need to do such things.

“Mother, you carried a body with those old bones? Aren’t you exhausted? Tonight I’ll massage your back. You’ve worked hard.”

The youngest son, Jiang Siyi, lived up to his reputation as her most doted child. Sweet-talking was his specialty.

“Grandmother, I don’t mind delaying marriage a few more years. You needn’t tire yourself out for me. I—”

Jiang Tongjin’s voice caught. Head lowered, he looked ready to cry.

“Enough—it’s over now. No use crying, boy. Old woman, tomorrow go find the matchmaker from Zhoujia Village. Have her look into a bride for Tongjin. Let him marry early, give you a grandchild to hold—that’s true filial piety, understand?” Jiang Shoujia patted his grandson’s shoulder.

It sounded like an order, but really it was a way to ease the boy’s guilt.

“Fine. Since we’ve money now, no need to keep postponing our eldest grandson’s wedding. The bride-price will be two taels of silver, no more. We’ll still need several banquet tables—that’s another expense. And with Tongmu already thirteen, the drought’s so bad this year, we won’t save enough. We must keep some aside for Tongmu’s future marriage too.”

Zhang Jinlan had already mapped out how to spend the three taels and five mace.

Two taels for a wife was actually quite generous.

If they wanted a plain-looking girl, one tael would be enough.

But she refused to let her eldest grandson be wronged.

She herself had always valued looks.

Why else would she have married so far into Jiangjia Village?

Part of it was circumstance. But mostly, her husband had been strikingly handsome in his youth.

Though her own looks were ordinary, her children were all decent-looking.

The two eldest sons were tall, strong, commanding.

Her daughter wasn’t stunning, but fair-skinned—“fairness covers all flaws,” after all.

And her youngest son—he was the spitting image of his father in youth.

No wonder she favored him most.

When she arranged his marriage to Zhang Yanzi, it was because the girl was pretty. All the talk about distant kinship was just a pretext.

And now—

Her little granddaughter Fubao had inherited the best of both parents.

Such a beauty even as a child—sure to grow into a dazzling woman.

As Jiang Fubao shared candied hawthorn skewers with her brothers, she felt a burning gaze on her.

She turned, but no one was looking.

Shrugging, she carried on.

After handing out the treats, she and her brothers began savoring them.

Candied hawthorn was meant to be bitten, but only the wealthy could afford to eat it like that.

The Jiang children merely licked it, little by little.

Each lick of sweet malt sugar brought another drop of happiness.

“Enough—put those down for later. Time for supper.”

Fubao’s eldest aunt-in-law carried dishes to the table, scolding when she saw the children so absorbed in their treats.

That night, the Jiang family lit an oil lamp for the first time.

It was pitch-dark outside after cooking—impossible to eat in the dark.

But every extra moment the lamp burned stabbed Zhang Jinlan’s heart like wasted silver.

So supper was eaten in a rush.

“Is the water heated? I need to bathe. Carrying a corpse left bad luck clinging to me—I can’t take that into bed.” Even while gnawing meat, she didn’t forget to order her eldest daughter-in-law.

“It’s ready, waiting for you.” Zhu Yingqiu replied.

Half an hour later, the family was asleep.

All but Jiang Fubao, lying awake.

She was exhausted—her legs sore from walking all day, eyelids drooping.

But she still had to enter her space to check on the chickens.

And haul the eggs back to stash under the bed.

Once her brothers’ breathing deepened in slumber, she slipped into the space.