Chapter 25: Charcoal Core Pen

Aunt was lying on the ground when she heard Ji Jinglan’s footsteps fading away. She immediately opened her eyes and sprang up, ignoring the pain all over her body, and darted straight toward her house.

Just as she reached the front gate, she ran smack into Ji Yanyang.

“Mother! Are you alright? Did they do anything to you?”

Ji Yanyang had rushed home and only just caught his breath when he remembered his mother was still over at the second household. He panicked and ran back out to look for her.

“You unfilial brat! You ran off on your own and left your mother behind in that wolf’s den!”

“I already ran—why didn’t you follow me? Who’s to blame for that? Besides, when I noticed you didn’t come back, wasn’t I just on my way to find you?”

In the end, blood is thicker than water. Aunt didn’t scold him too much. She rubbed her aching back, grimacing as she walked into the house.

Ji Yanyang followed behind her like a little tail.

“Mother, I think the entire second branch has turned rebellious. Let’s not mess with them again for a while.”

They hadn’t gotten anything out of them after several attempts. Although Aunt felt indignant, she had no choice but to drop the idea for now.

But if she ever caught the second household slipping up again, she’d make sure every single one of them went straight to hell.

Meanwhile, Ji Jinglan skipped home, humming a little tune as she sat by the well, scrubbing sheets and bedcovers.

“Xiaolan, looks like you’re in a good mood,” Ji Jingxuan said as he lay lazily on a worn-out recliner in the courtyard, holding a book and gently rocking.

“I’ve been suffocating for over a decade, and I finally let off some steam today—how could I not be happy?

Turns out standing up for yourself really does make a difference.

If it weren’t for Sister-in-law giving me the confidence, I don’t know how many more years it would’ve taken for me to muster the courage.

I’m really starting to like her more and more.”

The more Ji Jinglan scrubbed, the more enthusiastic she became, practically soaring with joy.

The corners of Ji Jingxuan’s mouth curled slightly—he found himself liking her more and more, too…

After entering the city, Chu Xiaoqi headed straight for the carpenter’s shop.

“Miss, didn’t we agree that you’d come back in ten days to pick up the cart?” The shop owner saw her and assumed she had come to rush the order.

Chu Xiaoqi waved her hand. “Boss, I’m not here to rush you today. I actually need you to help me make a board.”

“A board? What kind of board?”

Chu Xiaoqi gestured with her hands. “About this long, and this wide. I need it smoothed and painted white.”

“What do you need something like that for?” The shopkeeper looked puzzled.

“Oh, I’m taking it home for my husband to write on.”

“Write? But this—this—”

“Sigh, boss, don’t ask. Just tell me, can you make it or not?”

“Alright, alright, I won’t ask. Come back in half an hour to pick it up.”

“Great, thank you, boss!”

After getting his agreement, Chu Xiaoqi turned and went to the butcher’s shop.

“Well now, Little Sister Xiaoqi is here… Didn’t you just buy two jin of meat yesterday? Already finished?” By now, the pork shop owner was quite familiar with her.

Chu Xiaoqi grinned as she inspected the meat on the cutting board. “It’s not gone that fast. The weather’s cooling down, so I’m buying some meat to make sausages. Store them for winter to satisfy cravings.”

“Sausages, huh?

It just so happens that old Brother Sun from the mutton shop across the street had to close early today. He left a basket of sheep intestines with me.

If you want them, I’ll give you a good price.”

“That’s perfect! Thank you, Brother Jiang!”

Talk about great timing—she’d been worrying about where to find sausage casings in ancient times. Turns out someone handed her a pillow just as she was about to fall asleep.

She bought three jin of pork for 210 wen, and the sheep intestines—Boss Jiang only charged 10 wen.

She then headed to the market to buy some shiitake mushrooms and red yeast rice, and prepared One jin of wine and two jin of white sugar later, Chu Xiaoqi returned to the carpenter’s shop.

The shop owner had already followed her instructions: he planed and painted the board with white lacquer. It was nearly dry and would be completely set after drying in the sun for another hour or so.

Chu Xiaoqi picked up the board and examined it with satisfaction. “Boss, how much for the board?”

“Forget it. It’s just a small thing. I won’t charge you—take it and have fun,” the shopkeeper said generously with a wave of his hand.

“Then thank you very much, boss. I’ll make sure to repay you someday.”

With that, she placed the board on top of her basket, hummed a tune, and left.

The carpenter watched her back helplessly. His own children were unreliable, and now he was placing his hopes on a complete stranger?

When Chu Xiaoqi got home, it was just in time for lunch.

Technically, people in ancient times only ate two meals a day. But she was used to three, and everyone in the family woke up early and had a very light breakfast. Before noon, their stomachs were already grumbling.

How can a person work on an empty stomach?

So, at her insistence, the Ji family switched to three meals a day.

She wasn’t home that morning, so Ji Mother had just boiled a pot of plain porridge and stir-fried some cabbage—didn’t even dare use oil. It was bland and watery, totally unappetizing.

Still, Chu Xiaoqi didn’t complain. She made do and ate a few bites.

After the meal, she asked Ji Father to help her build a baking oven in the courtyard. The Ji family had never seen such a strange-looking contraption and all gathered around, curious.

“Eldest Sister-in-law, what kind of stove is this? Why does it look so weird?

And what’s this empty upper layer for?” Ji Jinglan asked.

“This… this is called an oven. It’s for baking pastries,” Chu Xiaoqi replied, taking a while to figure out how to explain it.

By the local price standards, ovens should already exist in this world.
But maybe Beihe County was just too backward—neither ovens nor pastries had made it here yet.

“Pastries? You mean steamed sponge cake?” Ji Jinglan asked excitedly.

Ji Jingze quietly swallowed his drool.

“No, no. It’s hard to explain in a few words. I’ll make some baked flatbreads tonight and let you try—then you’ll understand.”

Not giving them time for more questions, Chu Xiaoqi turned to grab a bundle of branches and stuffed them into the oven. On the upper layer, she stacked pieces of small wood and lit the fire.

“Eldest Sister-in-law, are we roasting wood to eat?”

Chu Xiaoqi gently smacked Ji Jinglan’s head. “How would we eat that? I’m making charcoal.”

Ji Jinglan was about to ask more, but Chu Xiaoqi cut her off. “Go find me some thin bamboo—about the width of a pinky finger.”

Ten minutes later, Ji Jinglan dragged over a big bundle of pre-cut bamboo strips and handed them to Chu Xiaoqi.

Chu Xiaoqi showed them the desired length and had Ji Jingze and his siblings sort and prep them accordingly—splitting the bamboo in half and smoothing out the inside.

Inside the house, Ji Jingxuan watched the lively scene in the courtyard with a longing look. He really wanted to join in, but didn’t dare for fear Chu Xiaoqi would scold him for not studying properly.
All he could do was quietly peek through the window, watching them laugh and joke around.

The oven blazed for nearly an hour before Chu Xiaoqi opened the stone cover on top and pulled out the wooden sticks that had turned into charcoal.

She placed the charcoal into a mortar and ground it into fine powder, added a pinch of flour and some water, mixed it into a paste, rolled it into thin sticks, and packed it into the small bamboo tubes. Then, she placed them in the baking section over a low fire for about the time it took to burn an incense stick.

Afterward, she opened the bamboo tubes and took out the hard black cores inside. She returned them to the oven and baked them over low heat for another half an hour, then set them out to cool.

Chu Xiaoqi tested the hardness and smudge levels. They were barely passable.

She had Ji Jinglan fetch some flour and mixed it into a small bowl of paste. Then, she asked Ji Jingxuan for a stack of used scrap paper and sat at the table in the main hall to start wrapping the charcoal cores.

Ji Jinglan sat beside her, helping cut the paper to size, while— (text cuts off)

They worked quickly—within half an hour, they had wrapped about two hundred charcoal pens.

Ji Jingxuan’s curiosity finally got the better of him. He couldn’t resist running into the main hall and picking up one of the wrapped charcoal sticks, examining it closely.

“Xiaoqi, what exactly are these things?” he asked.

Chu Xiaoqi had just finished wrapping the last one. She let out a deep breath and turned to him, saying, “Go bring in that white board I left drying in the yard, and grab a damp cloth while you’re at it.”

“Oh…” Ji Jingxuan set the charcoal pen down and turned to leave the hall.

He soon returned, placing the items in front of her. Chu Xiaoqi then pushed the white board back in front of him.

Right in front of his eyes, she picked up a charcoal pen, tore off a small piece of the paper wrapping to expose the tip, scraped it a little with a knife to refine the point, and handed it to him.

“Try writing on the board.”

Ji Jingxuan took the charcoal pen and scribbled a few characters on the board. His face lit up with surprise and delight as he looked up at her.

“This thing is amazing! It’s durable, doesn’t smudge, and doesn’t break!”

“Try wiping it off with the cloth.”

He followed her instructions, and with a single swipe of the cloth, the writing vanished—the board was as clean and white as new.

That really excited Ji Jingxuan. He held the charcoal pen like a treasure, turning it over and over in his hands.

“From now on, just use this charcoal pen and white board to practice at home. You won’t have to worry about wasting materials anymore.

I made about two hundred of them—should be enough for at least a month or two.

Once you run out, I’ll make more for you.”

Overcome with emotion, Ji Jingxuan grabbed Chu Xiaoqi’s hand, eyes brimming with tears, and stammered, “Qiqi, thank you…”

Chu Xiaoqi jolted like she’d been shocked by lightning.

Qiqi?

What the heck was Qiqi?

What kind of ghostly nickname was that?

She quickly yanked her hand away from Ji Jingxuan’s grip, stood up, and rushed out the door. “I—I’m going to make dinner!”

Ji Jingxuan watched her flee in a fluster, beaming with joy.

Was she… shy?

In the kitchen, Chu Xiaoqi placed a hand over her chest, trying to calm her racing heart.

What was up with Ji Jingxuan, acting all intense all of a sudden? Trying to scare her to death so he could inherit her money box?

Scared her half to death…

Amitabha! All you heavenly deities, please bless Ji Jingxuan to pass the autumn provincial exam and make it to the imperial exams.

As soon as the exam is over, she would leave behind a divorce letter and go her own way—free as a bird and wild as the sea.

For dinner, Chu Xiaoqi made fresh meat-filled baked buns and had Ji Jingze take a few of them, along with one and a half dou of rice, to return to the village chief’s house.

The smell of the meat was so mouthwatering along the way that Ji Jingze could barely stand it.

When he reached the village chief’s house, he shoved everything into Zhou Qingqing’s arms and muttered, “My sister-in-law asked me to return these,” then turned and bolted.

Zhou Qingqing glanced at the items in her arms, craned her neck to watch Ji Jingze’s retreating figure, and muttered, “It’s not like it’s your first time seeing me. Why are you so shy?”

Ji Jingze burst into the house and made a beeline for the main hall. He grabbed a baked bun off the table and stuffed it into his mouth.

“You little brat! Did you wash your hands?” Ji Father yelled from the side.

Ji Jingze, bun still in his mouth, mumbled as he ran off, “I’m going now…”

Meanwhile, the village chief returned from a trip to town and happened to pass by the Ji family’s second household.

The courtyard gate was open, and he caught sight of Ji Jingze running out with a bun in his mouth while Ji Father chased him, yelling.

He didn’t go inside. He just smiled.

The second household of the Ji family no longer seemed gloomy and lifeless. That was a good thing.

Back at his own home, the village chief washed his hands in the courtyard, then went inside and sat down on the kang. Spotting the baked buns on the table, he looked up and asked Zhou Qingqing:

“These were from the Ji family’s second household?”