Chapter 26

One small yellow croaker for a tub of bathwater!

If not for everything she had experienced along the way, Fu Tingjun might have thought this a rather refined affair—she would have soaked comfortably in the bath, changed into clean, comfortable clothes, and then slept soundly... But now that she knew water could save lives, she could no longer treat it lightly or use it so casually for bathing.

A Sen had experienced even more than Fu Tingjun.

He sat beside the wooden tub, staring blankly at Fu Tingjun, hesitating: "Are we really going to use it for bathing?"

Of course they couldn't use it for bathing!

Fu Tingjun thought for a moment, then said: "How about we pour the water into our water skins and store it, carrying it along the road to drink?"

"That's great!" A Sen jumped up happily at the news. "But raw water can't just be poured directly into the water skins—it needs to be boiled first. Otherwise, with so many days on the road, the water won't be moving, and it'll go bad. Drinking it would make us sick."

Fu Tingjun understood this reasoning too, but she just hadn't thought that far ahead.

Her face flushed slightly.

No wonder Grandmother often said, "Clear understanding of worldly affairs is learning; skill in human relations is literature." Clearly, there was still much for her to learn!

The two looked around the room and found the kitchen tucked in a small chamber behind the side room. Beside the stove was a small pile of straw and scraps of wood.

A Sen showed Fu Tingjun how to bundle the wood with straw for kindling, and how to use the fire tongs to arrange the firewood for burning.

Fu Tingjun laughed: "You don't actually think I don't even know how to cook, do you?"

A Sen was unimpressed: "Then bundle a piece of firewood for me to see?"

Fu Tingjun truly had never done this before.

When she had learned to cook, there were always maids and older women to light the fire and wash the vegetables—she was only responsible for the cooking itself.

A Sen taught her with a rather contemptuous air: "The straw is used to carry the flame to the wood. Bundle too much, and it's wasteful; bundle too little, and the flame won't reach the wood... Who cooks by feeding firewood into the stove with one hand while stir-frying with the other? You toss the wood into the stove and hurry back to the pot, then when you figure the fire is about to die down, you leave the pot and hurry back to the stove... When the fire first starts, it's small; in the middle, it's big; and at the end, it gets small again... The first bundle of wood goes into a cold stove, so even at its biggest, it's only as strong as the second bundle's small flame. Once the pot is hot, the second bundle's small flame is hotter than the first bundle's big flame... If the fire burns too fiercely, the food will scorch; if the fire won't catch, the food won't cook through... Stir-frying is one thing—you can always manage to choke it down. But if you're cooking rice, the bottom burns while the top is still raw. Half-cooked rice will give you a stomachache."

Fu Tingjun's head was spinning: "I'm just boiling water. Does it matter whether the fire is big or small?"

A Sen glared at her: "Do you know how many bundles of firewood we can make from the straw and wood we have here? Do you know how many bundles it takes to boil a pot of water? If you just toss them in carelessly, we'll run out of firewood before the water even boils... Then what are we supposed to do?"

Fu Tingjun felt A Sen was exaggerating to show off his expertise in fire-building, and she smiled: "Boiling one pot of water should be enough to fill all our water skins, right?"

A Sen snorted: "Either way, we can't waste any."

Fu Tingjun pressed her lips together and smiled: "Alright, I'll listen to A Sen!"

A Sen's lips curved with a hint of smug satisfaction.

Fu Tingjun barely held back her laughter.

The two sat on small bamboo stools by the kitchen door, bundling firewood.

Fu Tingjun asked him: "How does Ninth Master have so many small yellow croakers?"

A Sen was quite displeased with her questioning Zhao Jiuye: "He saved them up!"

Saved them up? If anyone could easily save up a few small yellow croakers, who would still rent other people's land to farm?

"How did he save them up?" Fu Tingjun asked with a smile. "Tell me, and I'll save some up too!"

A Sen glanced at her: "Copper coins exchanged for silver, silver exchanged for gold—that's how you save up!" Then, impatiently: "Let's hurry up and bundle the firewood. We still need to cook later."

This kid's lips were sealed tight!

Fu Tingjun felt both disappointed and relieved.

Someone walked in: "What are you two doing?"

They both looked up and saw Zhao Jiuye standing at the kitchen door holding a cloth sack.

A Sen ran over, eager to take credit: "The water you bought with the small yellow croaker—we couldn't bear to use it for bathing, so we wanted to boil it and pour it into the water skins to drink on the road!" Then, taking the cloth sack from Zhao Jiuye's hand, "Master, what's this?"

Zhao Jiuye didn't pay A Sen any mind. Instead, he fixed his gaze on Fu Tingjun standing by the kitchen door, his eyes deep and thoughtful. In the dim light of the kitchen, he seemed inscrutable.

For some reason, Fu Tingjun was reminded of the kitchen at Biyun Nunnery... it had been just like this—the two of them alone, the light dim... his gaze deep and calm...

She began to feel uneasy.

He was Zhao Jiuye, after all!

He wasn't really a servant in her household.

When he had announced in front of the people of Lijiawa that he would take her to Xi'an to seek out relatives, his expression had been so unpleasant.

Just a moment ago, she had been too overjoyed to think carefully, but now recalling it, he must have been left with no other choice.

With no outsiders present now, she wondered—would he go back on his word? Would he lose his temper? Would he think she was like sticky candy, impossible to shake off once attached?

In the silence, Fu Tingjun lowered her eyelids.

Then she heard A Sen shout, "Flour, eggs, tofu, winter melon... Master, where did you get all this?" The sound of him gulping saliva was clearly audible.

Fu Tingjun quickly looked up.

It was true!

The cloth sack had been opened, and several eggs were carefully placed on the stove by A Sen.

Four buckets of water had cost four small yellow croaker gold coins...

She blurted out, "How much silver must this have cost?"

Her face immediately burned hot.

In the past, she would have used the euphemism "that thing" to refer to money, but now, she found herself asking the price of everything she saw... Clearly, she had changed a lot... Yet deep down, a thought lingered—if not for her sake, Zhao Jiuye certainly wouldn't have needed to buy water, flour, and vegetables... When she first met him, he hadn't even worn a pair of shoes... It wasn't that he lacked money... So Zhao Jiuye was clearly a frugal man... Seeing him spend like this, she truly felt a pang of distress...

Zhao Jiuye pressed his lips together, a hint of laughter in his eyes, clearly holding back from laughing out loud: "Isn't money meant to be spent!"

Fu Tingjun disliked this kind of reasoning.

Her sixteenth grand-uncle had been exactly like that—spending every penny he had. In his youth, when he could earn well, life felt carefree and unrestrained. But as he aged, with no savings, and finding it hard to go from extravagance to frugality, when he died, it was the clan fund that bought his coffin.

She couldn't help muttering under her breath, "What if a person is still alive, but the silver is gone? What then?"

Zhao Jiuye was taken aback, then burst into laughter.

His brows relaxed, his eyes sparkled—it was a joyfulness she had never seen in him before.

Fu Tingjun stared wide-eyed.

"I have my own plans for the water I brought on the road," he said with a smile. "We're leaving Lijiawa tomorrow at dusk. Go pack up quickly. A Sen, you cook!"

A Sen cheerfully responded, "Alright!" and began taking out the items Zhao Jiuye had brought back, one by one.

Zhao Jiuye then said to Fu Tingjun, "Aren't you feeling itchy? Go wash up quickly." He added reassuringly, "Once we reach Xi'an Prefecture, everything will be fine!"

How did he know she was itchy?

Having been bundled up the whole way, Fu Tingjun had ended up with heat rash.

She hadn't wanted him to think she was delicate, so she only scratched when no one was around. She hadn't expected him to notice anyway.

A wave of gratitude welled up in her heart, and Zhao Jiuye turned and walked out the door: "I'm going with Qi Ye to see the clan head of Lijiawa. I'll be back soon!"

...

Because of Zhao Jiuye's words, Fu Tingjun ultimately couldn't resist the temptation of a bath. She washed thoroughly and felt as if she had shed several pounds of burden, her whole body much lighter. Then she found a white cloth, tore it into strips, and tied up her hair—a way of observing mourning for her uncle and aunt.

When she came out, A Sen was frying tofu.

Seeing that he had to put a stone under his feet to reach the wok with his spatula, Fu Tingjun hurried over to help.

A Sen shooed her away: "The Master said I should cook."

"You help me tend the fire," Fu Tingjun said, snatching the spatula from his hand. Though not very practiced, her movements were graceful and smooth as she flipped the tofu.

A Sen had to admit she did it better than him, so he obediently sat by the stove opening and helped with the fire.

Soon, Fu Tingjun had made two dishes and asked A Sen, "Does Ninth Master prefer hand-pulled noodles or flatbread?"

"Whatever Brother Yuanbao makes, the Master eats!" A Sen thought for a moment, then added, "But he eats more when it's flatbread."

Zhao Jiuye didn't seem like a picky eater either.

Fu Tingjun began kneading dough and said to A Sen, "You should wash up properly too! I hear it's still seven or eight days' journey from here to Xi'an Prefecture!"

Remembering that each bucket of water cost one small yellow croaker gold coin, she felt a bit guilty and used two buckets, leaving two behind.

A Sen said awkwardly, "Better save them for the Master!"

"We'll leave one bucket for the Master!" Fu Tingjun urged him enthusiastically.

That way, the water wouldn't be something she alone enjoyed.

If everyone had a share, she'd feel more at ease.

A Sen smelled awful, and unable to resist Fu Tingjun's persuasion, he hesitated for a long while before finally helping her carry a bucket of water to the side room, where he bathed.

When he came out, Fu Tingjun had already baked the flatbread and was making egg and winter melon soup.

"Has Ninth Master not returned yet?" he asked, his hair still dripping wet.

"Not yet!" Fu Tingjun wiped the sweat from her forehead. "It's still early. Let's wait a bit longer. If he still hasn't come back soon, you should go check!"

A Sen naturally had no objection and asked her, "Where are the clothes you changed out of, miss? I'll go wash them first!"

Fu Tingjun broke into a cold sweat.

Among the clothes she had changed out of were her undergarments...

"No, no! I'll take care of it myself!" she said hastily, and remembering that three buckets of water had already been used, she added, "Besides, there's no water left!"

A Sen chuckled and said, "I saved half a bucket of water."

"Still, A Sen is capable!" Fu Tingjun praised him, asking A Sen to help carry the prepared food to the square table in the main room.

Zhao Jiuye returned.

Fu Tingjun hurriedly greeted him: "The clan head of Lijiawa didn't say anything, did he?"

After all, Qi Ye had taken them in without the clan head's approval.

"No," Zhao Jiuye said casually, "He just asked about our situation."

Fu Tingjun sighed in relief and had A Sen draw water for Zhao Jiuye to wash his hands before eating.

Zhao Jiuye immersed his hands in the water, but his mind was on what the clan head of Lijiawa had just said: "...Now that you've sent your young lady to Xi'an Prefecture, you've fulfilled your late master's trust. She is a woman, and she will eventually marry. You might consider settling down in our Lijiawa..."