Chapter 77

The next morning, his arms and legs were all numb because Chen Jue had draped his hands and feet over him, and he had flat-out refused to let his own limbs rest on Chen Jue.

Huo Jilin rubbed his numb arms as he went to make breakfast.

It was getting colder day by day, and the leaves on the trees were getting sparser day by day.

Huo Jilin pulled a cabbage from the vegetable patch and said to Chen Jue, who was washing up, "We're having cabbage and drop dumpling soup with meatballs this morning."

When Chen's Medicine Shop had opened the day before yesterday, he'd overbought meat. Uncle Liu, Aunt Zhang, and his mother-in-law couldn't stand to use it all up, so they'd deep-fried some of it into meatballs.

They'd be perfect for the cabbage and meatball soup, with Chen Jue's favorite dough drops added in.

With ready-made meatballs and tofu, the soup came together quickly. Chen Jue finished washing up, drank some water, and before long, the aroma drifted over.

He sat at the kitchen door picking cilantro leaves while watching Huo Jilin stir the dough drops.

He'd leveled up his technique now—he added two eggs to the flour, and the dough drops came out uniform, golden, each like a small, angular soybean.

This was a piece of cake for Huo Jilin. With such a small amount of flour, how could he mess it up?

The big pot was mostly veggies now. Chen Jue needed to eat more vegetables than grains these days to keep his digestion regular.

Huo Jilin cooked according to his medical journal, basically managing to get him to eat a bit more.

The evenly mixed egg dough drops went into the boiling, milky-white cabbage and meatball soup, looking really appetizing.

When the dough drops were almost done, he cut the tofu into small cubes and dropped them in, finishing with green onions.

He didn't put cilantro in the pot since it was just for Chen Jue—he chopped a small dish of it for Chen Jue to add himself.

Good, really good. This whole big pot was technically a hodgepodge, but it was way better than anything Chen Jue had ever made—not even in the same league.

The two of them ate at the small table until sweat beaded on their noses. Outside, the mountains were quiet and cold, with white mist hanging over the hills.

It was already late autumn. It was cold at the mountaintop, frost was clearly visible on the leaves, and a thin layer of ice hung on everything before the sun came out.

But after downing that big bowl of dough drop soup, their whole bodies felt warm and cozy.

After they ate, the other workers arrived. Huo Jilin gave a few more instructions before hitching the horse to the cart and heading to town. This time, when Uncle Liu heard he was going to town to shop, he hurried after him.

Uncle Liu now went with him on all his shopping trips, afraid Huo Jilin would go overboard.

Huo Jilin obviously knew the prices well, but for some reason, he just couldn't stop spending money like water.

Like with that wasteland purchase—one wave of his hand, and twenty-five mu of wasteland. Uncle Liu's heart still hurt just thinking about it. If it had all been good land, it wouldn't hurt so much.

Forget it, he wouldn't bring that up.

And Jue Geer... ah, he wouldn't bring that up either.

When they'd custom-ordered those tools, he didn't even blink. Sure, he haggled—turned the stall owner's face black—but in the end, he still paid full price.

So Uncle Liu figured those two couldn't manage their household finances on their own. They needed someone watching over them. And now they'd set up such a big medicine workshop with so many hired hands—every month they had to pay wages, four taels of silver per person!

Uncle Liu lay awake every night worrying for them, but he didn't dare say anything. He couldn't help, so the least he could do was not discourage them. All he could do now was keep an eye on the small things for Huo Jilin.

But Huo Jilin's legs belonged to himself—Uncle Liu couldn't hold him back. The cart went straight toward the finished goods shop on South Street.

The cart stopped at the largest silk shop on South Street, and a shop assistant even came out to hold his horse. Uncle Liu's voice failed him at the sight.

"Da... Dalin, aren't you supposed to be buying quilts?"

Huo Jilin nodded. "Right, Chen Jue told me to buy quilts."

Uncle Liu opened his mouth. Buy quilts? He'd never heard of buying quilts in his life.

He followed nervously behind Huo Jilin, afraid that this fancy shop might actually sell quilts.

But thankfully, Huo Jilin walked around the whole place, and when the shopkeeper repeatedly pushed a cotton coat with a furry collar, he asked, "So you're sure you don't sell quilts?"

The shopkeeper's wife nearly rolled her eyes. If it weren't for the fact that Huo Jilin was a big spender, she wouldn't even bother speaking. Who buys quilts here? This was a silk shop!

But she smiled anyway. "Sir, you must be joking. We truly don't sell quilts here. But take a look at this cotton coat—the collar and lining are rabbit fur. Warm and beautiful. Wear this, and you won't be cold all winter. Shall I get one for your husband?"

Huo Jilin asked, "How much silver?"

Uncle Liu's heart jumped to his throat.

The shopkeeper smiled happily. "One tael of silver."

Uncle Liu immediately grabbed Huo Jilin's sleeve. He didn't dare speak, but his eyes were screaming frantically—too expensive! Didn't they have rabbit fur at home? They could catch rabbits on the mountain every day! The fur just wasn't white, but was white really worth a whole tael of silver?

Their rabbits sold for only twenty wen each—fur and meat together. If selling just the pelt, a rabbit was only ten wen.

This one coat couldn't possibly need a hundred rabbits! At most, four.

But Huo Jilin's eyes were still fixed on that white rabbit fur, and the shopkeeper was waiting with a smile. Based on her past experience with Huo Jilin's purchases, he would buy it without haggling.

But this time, Huo Jilin did haggle. "Five hundred wen."

Uncle Liu looked away, not daring to see the shopkeeper's face. Dalin and Chen Jue really were a matched pair—both of them cut prices in half.

But the coat really did come down to five hundred wen.

Amid the shopkeeper's endless chatter:

"Sir, this is silk-faced with rabbit fur lining! Where else can you get that for five hundred wen?"

"Look at this satin—the finest moonlight satin, favored by nobles in the capital. It's only this color that we pair with white rabbit fur. If you took the one with mixed-colored fur, I could let that go for five hundred wen."

"I want this moon-white one. If you won't sell it, then I won't buy it." Huo Jilin turned to leave.

Uncle Liu hurried after him.

But the shopkeeper called them back just as they were about to step out the door.

Uncle Liu's mouth twitched in pain.

Huo Jilin took the wrapped coat and asked the shopkeeper once more, "So you really don't sell quilts here?"

After getting the shopkeeper's confirmation, Huo Jilin turned to Uncle Liu. "Uncle Liu, you go back and tell Chen Jue—it's not that I won't buy a quilt, it's that they don't sell them here."

Uncle Liu said, "Come on, I'll take you to buy one. I know where they sell them."

The priority was getting him out of this shop—everything here was marked up double, then double again.

Huo Jilin watched Uncle Liu buy a bundle of cotton and a bolt of dark blue cotton cloth, then looked up at the sky. He'd forgotten that people here wouldn't read his face like before, wouldn't lay out stepping stones for him in advance, wouldn't work with him from the inside.

Despite all the hints Huo Jilin had dropped, Uncle Liu still couldn't understand. What a waste of effort.

Uncle Liu, unaware of his thoughts, was still going on to him, "Dalin, look, all this cost less than five hundred wen. The cotton's pricey, but I picked the best—this year's new crop. Later, I'll take you to get it carded, and I guarantee we can make two thick, warm quilts, with enough left for a small one for the baby."

Huo Jilin didn't feel like talking.

Uncle Liu continued, "Dalin, you gotta watch your money. You're about to be a father, and once the child arrives, expenses'll be heavy."

Uncle Liu said it earnestly, putting extra weight on the word 'father.' Huo Jilin's face made a strange twitch at those words. He was going to be a father—a child Chen Jue was carrying. That one thought wiped away all his frustration.

It was weird how easily he caved, especially over something he used to hate—kids. He figured, fine, extra cotton, extra quilts—whatever. When the baby came, he could use them himself.

He nodded to Uncle Liu and said, "Alright, whatever you say, Uncle Liu. What else we gotta get? The pharmacy provides lunch; do we have enough provisions?"

Uncle Liu had already planned everything out before he came and replied directly, "Enough! We got plenty of grain at home, sweet potatoes all brought in, and enough dry food to go around. The garden's got plenty too. We can feed everyone till they're full."

He paused and added, "Besides, I think other families'll have enough to eat this year too. They won't just pig out at our place. Everyone in the village is saying this year'll be a good one."

No taxes this year, so everything they made was theirs. Even if they couldn't afford white flour, coarse grains were plenty. That was far better than previous years.

Huo Jilin nodded. He left all the meal planning to Uncle Liu and his daughter-in-law. Neither he nor Chen Jue had time for that kinda small stuff.

He could cook, sure, but he only wanted to cook for Chen Jue. He had zero interest in feeding that many people.

Even though they'd figured out they didn't need anything, Huo Jilin still grabbed a few extra things on the way back through the market. This time, Uncle Liu didn't stop him.

Pastries—good for Chen Jue to snack on;

Pork bones for soup to build Chen Jue up—something about calcium, sure;

Some pork liver too;

Two blocks of tofu—Chen Jue loved that;

Candied hawthorn skewers—Chen Jue loved 'em, and so did the little girl...

In the end, Uncle Liu sat on the cart piled high with stuff, clutching cloth in his arms, five candied hawthorn skewers in one hand, leaning back on the carded cotton. He figured he'd done his best. This load of cotton must've saved a good chunk of money. Good thing the shop didn't sell quilts—if it did, with a little shawl going for five hundred wen, a quilt'd be ten times that!

Just thinking about it made his heart hurt.

Back in the village, Huo Jilin dropped off the cotton and cloth at Uncle Liu's place.

Uncle Liu was gonna sew the quilts. He said Jue Geer could barely bend over now, so no point in him doing any sewing.

That was the same thing Huo Jilin had said.

Uncle Liu told Huo Jilin, "Tell Jue Geer not to worry. Xiu Er and I'll get to it and have it done in two days. That kinda quilt cover you mentioned—I can sew that up in two days too."

Huo Jilin gave a faint smile and said, "Uncle Liu, there's no rush. It won't be used until the child is born, and that's still a month away. Take your time."

Uncle Liu called after him, "You silly kid, can a little baby sleep in a quilt that big?"

But Huo Jilin was already heading the cart home.

Once he got back, he dropped his stuff, grabbed the candied hawthorn skewers, and headed straight for the pharmacy. Sure enough, Chen Jue was there, one hand on his back, watching the medicine bubbling in the big pot.

Zhou Qingzhu was standing nearby, stirring the pot with a wooden ladle. Chen Jue leaned over, pointing at one of the herbs, and said, "You can't cut the time short. This herb cooks slow; it needs to boil till it turns this dark brown."

Zhou Qingzhu nodded. "Okay, got it."

Huo Jilin put on his work clothes but didn't go over. He waited off to the side, not interrupting Chen Jue's teaching.

Zhou Qingshan was also busy in the workshop and came over to greet him, reeking of Chinese medicine.

Huo Jilin asked him, "Has Chen Jue been here all day?"

Amid the thick herbal aroma, Chen Jue's face was lightly beaded with sweat. He must have been here the entire day.

Zhou Qingshan nodded helplessly. "He's needed here. At first, he didn't trust anyone else."

Huo Jilin's expression darkened almost imperceptibly at those words.

Without modern concentrated medicine machines, they had to rely on this traditional method of boiling over fire—three bowls of water reduced to one. This large pot had to simmer slowly down to a third of its volume, taking at least two hours, not a minute less.

The medicinal properties had to be fully extracted.

The pharmacy started work around seven in the morning, with a meal provided at noon, lasting half an hour.

But the pot couldn't stop; it simmered continuously until six in the evening, about eleven hours in total, producing five batches. With three pots, that made fifteen batches altogether.

He'd spent some time at the town getting the cotton carded, and by now, three large barrels of concentrated medicinal broth had already cooled. After filtering, adding dextrin, and drying in the sun, they'd sieve it into granules, bag them, and seal them—done.

Chen Jue had calculated it well: a hundred packets in five days.

Just a hundred packets, and it had him running in circles.

Huo Jilin's face grew darker as he watched Chen Jue supporting his waist. Chen Jue rarely did that—he subconsciously avoided that typical pregnant gesture, only resorting to it when he was too exhausted to care.

He really had been here all day.

Huo Jilin thought this was his own idea—using this venture to distract Chen Jue. Well, now Chen Jue wasn't thinking about dying for the moment, but he was working himself to death instead.

His face was grim as he watched.

When the pot lid was finally covered and Chen Jue turned around, Huo Jilin's expression still hadn't softened. He came over coldly to support him. "How long have you been here? Not the whole day, are you? Aren't you tired?"

Chen Jue said he wasn't, but Zhou Qingzhu chimed in, "How could he not be? First teaching herb classification, then slicing, then from the boiling pot to filtering and drying—he's been going in circles all day."

Huo Jilin's face darkened like ink at that. The joy of impending fatherhood vanished.

He hadn't wanted Chen Jue to have the child in the first place, but now that it was this far along, there was no choice. Yet Chen Jue wasn't taking any care of himself at all.

Huo Jilin took Chen Jue's arm with one hand and firmly wrapped the other around his waist, saying sternly, "When I left, I told you not to keep running around. Teach once and that's it. He's a grown man, not a blockhead—can't he learn to slice herbs by watching? All the ingredients were prepped before; just throw them in the pot, simmer on low heat for two hours, like making porridge. How hard is that?"

Zhou Qingzhu didn't dare touch a single candied hawthorn skewer. This was the first time he'd seen Huo Jilin angry. Though Huo Jilin's tone hadn't changed at all, each pointed question made Zhou Qingzhu unable to lift his head. He mumbled, "I... I'll get it right tomorrow for sure!"

It wasn't that he couldn't remember—he was worried! This was medicine, not porridge!

Chen Jue spoke up for him. "This is medicine for treating illness. It's always better to check a few extra times."

Huo Jilin took a deep breath. This was just cold medicine—missing one ingredient wouldn't matter much. If such a simple remedy had him this worried, then the antacid tablets and quick-acting heart pills to come would worry him even more.

There was no end to the worrying.

Huo Jilin closed his eyes. It was his fault.

He knew Chen Jue, as a doctor, had his cautious habits when it came to medication.