Chapter 28: Xiaoxue Makes Ciba Rice Cakes

Chapter 28: Minor Snow, Pounding Rice Cakes

Yan Fengan had been cooped up in the house for over twenty days before finally finishing the storybook "The Jade-Faced Fox Gentleman," which came to about seventy or eighty thousand characters in total.

From coming up with the idea to writing it all out, it had taken him over a month of effort—not an unreasonable amount of time for a beginner.

With the story fully written out, Yan Fengan felt quite pleased. After letting the ink dry and organizing the manuscript, he stretched his stiff body and slowly ambled out of his room.

Flurries of snow drifted down from the sky into the cold, still courtyard, leaving a thin layer of white on the stone table. Yan Fengan paused for a moment, then suddenly remembered that today was the Minor Snow solar term.

He stood under the eaves, holding out his palm. The icy snowflakes landed in his hand and quickly melted into freezing water. Watching the swirling snow, he softly recited: "Snow like blossoms drifts with the wind, never wearying to watch; more still falls on the wooded slopes. A troubled man sits by his study window—each flake that flies brings another wave of cold."

On Minor Snow day, Daoxiang Village follows the custom of pounding rice cakes. Yan Fengan remembered that every year at this time, his father and two older brothers would skip work and stay home just to make rice cakes.

Just as he was thinking about this, he heard the sound of people talking and laughing coming from the kitchen, with steam billowing out through the open wooden door. Yan Fengan walked over to take a look and saw his father and two brothers busily working inside, clearly enjoying themselves.

Yan Wangchun was sturdy and powerfully built, pounding the stone mortar with the wooden mallet again and again.

Yan Fuqiu watched nervously, splashing a bit of water into the mortar as he said, "Easy there, easy—pound it like that and you'll break the mortar."

"I've been pounding it like this every year—the mortar's not going to break that easily. Pounding rice cakes takes force; if you go light, it won't break down." With that, Yan Wangchun slammed the mallet down hard again.

Yan Shichang said, "If it's not breaking down, just pound it a few more times. Don't use brute force—when you get tired, switch with me or your second brother."

Yan Wangchun let out a chuckle: "I'm not tired yet. I'll pound a bit more."

This scene repeated almost every year. In the past, Yan Fengan hadn't thought much of it, but today, watching it, he felt a sudden wave of emotion for reasons he couldn't quite name.

His father and brothers had to earn money to support the family, and he had to go to the city for school—they had very little time together each year. During those three years when someone else had taken over his body, Yan Fengan often wondered: had he been so buried in his studies, so sparing with his care, so neglectful of family time, that even when he was swapped out and his personality changed drastically, no one noticed?

He felt a sharp ache in his chest. Yan Fengan shook himself out of it and forced himself to stop dwelling on those painful thoughts.

Being able to come back at all was already a blessing—why torment himself over questions that could never be answered?

It was rare to spend such easy time with his family. Yan Fengan stood at the doorway watching for a while, then put his usual smile back on and stepped into the kitchen. "Father, eldest brother, second brother."

The three men inside heard his voice and turned to look at him, with faint smiles on their faces as well.

Yan Fuqiu was the first to speak: "Third brother isn't transcribing texts today?"

They didn't know what Yan Fengan really got up to alone in his room. Having heard from Wen Xi that he was copying out texts, they all assumed he was studying hard, so no one bothered him.

Yan Fengan rubbed the back of his neck: "Already finished copying. Eldest brother, you've been working hard on the rice cakes—need any help?"

"You?" Yan Wangchun paused his work and shook his head. "A gentleman keeps his distance from the kitchen. Why would a scholar like you be pounding rice cakes? If you've got nothing to do, go read a book, or go out and enjoy the snow and write some poetry. Just wait and eat later."

Yan Wangchun didn't see anything wrong with what he said—after all, that's how it had always been. His third brother wouldn't even lend a hand during the busy farming season, so why would he need his help with rice cakes?

Besides, Yan Fengan had said those very words himself.

Well, what can you do—studying comes first, above all else. As the youngest, his brothers were supposed to look after him.

"Right, this isn't easy work. Third brother, your arm's not even as thick as the mallet. Forget pounding rice cakes—the question is whether you can even lift the mallet." Yan Fuqiu and He Jin really were cut from the same cloth—both spoke with the same bluntness.

With both brothers looking down on him like that, Yan Fengan could only turn to Yan Shichang: "Father, please just let me give it a shot."

His youngest son rarely showed such enthusiasm, and he'd been behaving well lately, so Yan Shichang was happy to go along with it: "Eldest, didn't you hear your brother? Hand him the mallet."

With the old man's order, Yan Wangchun naturally obeyed. He passed the mallet to Yan Fengan and stood together with the second brother, the two of them exchanging glances and smirking like they were waiting for a show.

Yan Fengan rolled up his sleeves and took the mallet with both hands. It was heavy—heavier than he'd expected. Putting his strength into it, he imitated Yan Fuqiu's technique, swung the mallet up, and slammed it down hard into the mortar.

The sticky glutinous rice got a hollow punched into it, and at the same time, Yan Fengan's arm went numb from the impact.

Yan Fuqiu commented: "Oh, I underestimated you. Third brother's got some skill—go on, go on."

Yan Fengan tried another strike. Though his brothers had been eager to see him make a fool of himself, once they saw he was doing decently, they didn't hold back their praise.

Tao'er and Tiezhu had been playing in the snow outside, but hearing the commotion inside, they couldn't resist peeking in through the door.

Tao'er's nose was running from the cold, but she didn't care—she wiped it with her sleeve and kept staring at Yan Fengan.

Tiezhu's eyes darted around, and seizing a moment when no one was watching, he turned and ran back into the house.

After four or five strikes, Yan Fengan's arm began to ache. It was a different kind of soreness from writing—it spread from his shoulder all the way down his arm, like needles constantly pricking him.

He was about to casually switch out with someone, but the moment he stopped, he saw a crowd standing at the doorway, all staring at him like he was some kind of spectacle.

He Jin covered her mouth and laughed: "Well, well, the sun really must be rising from the west today. Third brother's actually skipping his books to come pound rice cakes with everyone."

Li Wan also smiled: "This work is exhausting. Third brother, just play with it a bit and stop—let your brothers take over."

Yan Fengan had originally planned to quit, but seeing Wen Xi watching him intently, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep going for a few more strikes.

As time went on, lifting the mallet became harder and harder.

They were brothers after all—they wouldn't really let him embarrass himself. Yan Fuqiu grabbed the mallet in one firm grip and nudged him aside: "Alright, alright, let me take over. You swung it plenty of times—that's impressive enough."

Yan Wangchun called out: "Go have Xiao Xi rub your arm for you, or you'll be hurting later."

Hearing this, Wen Xi quickly came over and grasped Yan Fengan's arm: "Are you alright?"

Yan Fengan shook his head: "I only swung it a few times—it's not as bad as eldest brother makes it sound. I'm fine."

Knowing he was putting on a brave face, no one called him out on it. He Jin and Li Wan smiled and shook their heads, then squeezed into the kitchen to wash their hands. They placed the mashed glutinous rice on the cutting board, rolled it in soybean flour, and cut it into strips.

The two kids followed behind them, reaching out to steal a bite, only to have their hands lightly smacked by He Jin.

"Filthy—no eating until you wash your hands."

Tao'er pouted, and He Jin pinched off two small balls and fed them to the children: "Alright, wait until it's on the table."

Yan Fengan shamelessly asked for a piece too. After leaving the kitchen, he held the rice cake up to Wen Xi's mouth: "I made this with my own hands—you should try it."

Wen Xi hadn't expected him to have gotten it for him. Blushing, he ate the rice cake, and whether it was psychological or not, he felt it was softer, stickier, and sweeter than he'd imagined.

"How is it?"

Wen Xi replied: "It tastes wonderful—the best rice cake I've ever had."

Though he'd never had one before, anyway.

He asked Yan Fengan: "Does your arm still hurt?"

"It doesn't."

Wen Xi looked at his slightly trembling arm and was about to say something when Yan Fengan added: "Just kidding. I saw how easily eldest brother did it and thought it wouldn't take much effort."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Wen Xi's mouth as he took Yan Fengan's arm in both hands and massaged it: "Eldest brother and the others are used to it, so of course it's nothing to them. For your first time pounding rice cakes, managing that many swings is already pretty impressive."

Yan Fengan knew Wen Xi was trying to comfort him, and said with a smile, "Actually, I don't really care whether I can make the rice cake well. I just saw Father and Eldest Brother and everyone else here, so I wanted to take the chance to have some fun with them."

Figuring Wen Xi might not fully get how he felt, he added, "Where's Mother? Why didn't she come out with you guys?"

"She's inside."

The padded jacket Wen Xi had on was one He Jin used to wear, and the cotton inside had lost most of its warmth.

Chen Lanfang had used her own money to buy new cotton for him, making him a padded jacket and a full set of thick cotton clothes and pants. Everything she made for the family was made with sturdy materials, and with these thick clothes, Wen Xi wouldn't have to fear the cold this winter.

After trimming the loose threads, the cotton garments were done. When Yan Fengan and Wen Xi came in, Chen Lanfang handed them the clothes.

"Sanlang's padded jacket and cotton clothes were only made last year, so I won't worry about you this year. There's just enough leftover cotton to make Xiao Xi a pair of cotton shoes. I'll hurry and finish them in the next few days, so your feet won't get cold, I promise."

In past years, Wen Xi had never worn clothes made from new cotton. When winter came, he'd pile all sorts of ragged clothes on, layer after layer. Since he had to work hard every day, he didn't feel the cold.

But his hands were soaked in cold water all day, and the holes in his shoes let the cold wind sneak in, so every year around this time, his hands and feet would break out in chilblains.

This year at the Yan house, there wasn't as much work, and his clothes and shoes were all new. He Jin had even been generous enough to give him a padded jacket. The chilblains on Wen Xi's hands were much better than before.

Aside from being a little red and itchy, there wasn't a single sore on his hands or feet.

Wen Xi had never known a mother's warmth. Thinking about how Chen Lanfang, his mother-in-law, had put in both money and effort to make him clothes, gratitude welled up inside him. Clutching the cotton clothes in both hands, his eyes glistening, he said, "Thank you, Mother."

Not sure how to put his gratitude into words, he added, "Once I get paid for my embroidery, I'll hand it all over to you."

Chen Lanfang couldn't help but laugh: "I don't even take money from your eldest sister-in-law or Brother Jin. You think I'd take yours? Keep it for yourself. As long as you and Fengan are doing well, that's what matters most."

She wanted to tell them to give her a big, healthy grandson soon, but then thought about Wen Xi's health and figured it might still take some time. Saying such things would only add pressure and worry to him.

Forget it. They were both still young, so there was no rush.

Wen Xi nodded quietly, and Yan Fengan put his arm around him, saying, "Mother, don't worry. Xiao Xi and I are doing great."

Whether things were good wasn't something you could just say with words. Chen Lanfang was experienced and had sharp eyes, so she could naturally see how the two of them really were.

Her son was now sensible and filial, and his relationship with his husband was good too. Chen Lanfang had silently thanked Buddha countless times in her heart, so how could she find anything to complain about?

As long as the family got along harmoniously and lived a good life, that was what mattered most. It wasn't like they were too poor to make ends meet, so she wouldn't begrudge spending money.

Yan Fengan had finished writing his story and needed to find a chance to go to the bookshop. He took this opportunity to mention it to Chen Lanfang.

The roads were slippery with snow, and Chen Lanfang was worried: "They sell writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones in town too. Why do you have to go all the way to the county seat?"

"The quality of the brushes and ink at the city bookshop is superior. I'm used to them."

Wen Xi glanced sideways at Yan Fengan, seeing that his face didn't flush and his breathing was steady, and felt a bit of admiration.

If it were him lying, he would probably have given himself away long ago.

Her son had always been particular about such things, so Chen Lanfang could accept this reasoning.

"Then wait until the weather clears up and have your second brother accompany you."

Yan Fengan said, "No need to trouble Second Brother. Having Xiao Xi accompany me is enough."

He couldn't explain the matter of writing the storybook to his family, so bringing Wen Xi along would help cover it up.

The young couple was deeply in love and always wanted to be together, so Chen Lanfang couldn't say much more. Yan Fengan had studied in the city for a long time and was very familiar with it, so there was nothing for her to caution him about.

After thinking for a moment, she said, "This trip will probably cost quite a bit. Wait here, let me go get some money for you."

A while back, a wealthy squire's son in town was getting married and needed some fine furniture made. Yan Shichang and his three sons were well-known for their craftsmanship, so for such a big job, people naturally thought of them first.

The squire was kind-hearted and generous. Not only did he pay them handsomely for the work, but after it was done, he also gave them an extra three taels of silver as a reward.

Of that, Yan Shichang had already given two taels to the eldest and second sons. The remaining one tael, Chen Lanfang took out and gave to Yan Fengan.

Yan Fengan didn't refuse his mother's kind gesture. He didn't have much silver left on hand, and if the storybook he wrote turned out to be worthless, this one tael of silver would at least keep him from being too strapped for cash.

A few days later, when the snow stopped falling, Yan Fengan tucked the storybook manuscript under his arm and, accompanied by Wen Xi, headed into the city again.