Shu Wanxiu’s mood was particularly bright at this moment.

The matter with Paternal Uncle had been resolved, and delivering fish to Xun Yi was straightforward.

He certainly wouldn’t be as talkative as the village aunties, so she wouldn’t need to exhaust herself with back-and-forth pleasantries.

Having received Xun Yi’s permission, she led Shu Shouyi into the forge to deliver the fish.

“Brother Xun…”

Xun Yi was forging an iron pot before the furnace.

It wasn’t the small type like the one Aunt Chen had lent her, but rather a large pot that could be fitted into a double-burner earthen stove.

Shu Wanxiu was almost instantly captivated.

However, after only a brief look, she honestly averted her gaze, not even asking about the price.

After all, with not a single copper coin in her pocket, asking would be pointless.

Xun Yi seemed to have reached a critical moment in his forging and couldn’t step away to fetch a bowl from the kitchen for the fish.

Understanding his situation, Shu Wanxiu said considerately, “Then I’ll leave the bowl here along with the fish.”

“Mhm. The rabbit fur is ready. I’ll bring it up the mountain tomorrow.” His voice was very even, pausing briefly before adding, “Thank you.”

Shu Wanxiu beamed, “No need for thanks.”

Just as she had anticipated, dealing with Xun Yi wasn’t complicated.

They took the remaining fish back up the mountain.

With their afternoon’s harvest reduced to just two bowls, Shu Shouyi was struggling to accept this disparity.

Instead of comforting him by patting his head or back as she used to, Shu Wanxiu crouched down to meet his eyes and gently reasoned with him.

“Count how many times the villagers have helped us. Do you think one bowl of small fish is enough to repay them?”

These two questions were enough to silence Shu Shouyi.

But Shu Wanxiu wasn’t finished.

“It’s hard to give away what we’ve obtained. You’re feeling reluctant now, but think about it the other way – doesn’t this help you better understand how difficult it must have been for the villagers when they helped us?”

Giving their own good household items to us without compensation, coming to help build our house when we barely knew each other.

Under Shu Wanxiu’s guidance, Shu Shouyi gradually recalled each act of kindness from the villagers, the disappointment in his eyes slowly transforming into admiration.

“Aunt, I understand now!” His voice had never been so firm. “I’ll never be stingy again. I’ll grow up well and repay everyone.”

“There, that’s right.”

Shu Wanxiu didn’t cook the two bowls of small fish. With no side dishes available at home, even if she cooked them, they wouldn’t taste like she remembered.

After finishing cooking and the fire pit contained a layer of red embers, Shu Wanxiu thoroughly cleaned the pot, spread the small fish and shrimp in a thin layer, and slowly dried them using the residual heat from the charcoal.

Though fish processed this way wouldn’t preserve as long as smoked fish, if stored properly, they could last quite a while without spoiling.

Children’s sleep patterns are always regular – they inevitably get sleepy at the same time each day and fall asleep quickly once in bed.

Lying on the same bed, Shu Wanxiu felt no drowsiness at all.

Tossing and turning, she eventually lay on her side gazing out the window.

The bright, shining moon remained unaware of human worries.

How much firewood would be enough to store for winter? How to obtain needles, thread, and fabric for mending clothes before winter? How much longer would she need to borrow Aunt Chen’s pot? How to acquire farming tools for next year’s planting?

If she got farmland next year, could she manage the cultivation alone? When harvest time came, would she be able to successfully reap the crops?

She smiled bitterly.

Initially, she had thought the natural disaster that struck her hometown was a once-in-a-millennium occurrence, but after learning why Xun Yi had settled here, she abandoned such wishful thinking.

Aunt Chen said that a decade ago, catastrophic floods in the central plains had submerged vast swathes of fertile farmland and destroyed countless homes. Of Xun Yi’s entire family, only he and his younger sister survived.

She understood that kind of pain all too well.

While human-caused calamities might still leave room for remedy, natural disasters were utterly inexorable.

Those like her, whose families had been shattered by such catastrophes, would spend their entire lives haunted by restless unease.

Recently, during her two encounters with Tingyi, though she never voiced it aloud, Shu Wanxiu secretly envied her.

Before the famine-driven exodus, Tingyi had been lively and forthright and she remained unchanged even after their displacement.

The burden of single-handedly supporting a household was exhausting. She wondered: if her parents, elder brother, and sister-in-law were still here, could she have been as carefree as Tingyi?

She would never know the answer, but one thing was certain she missed them terribly.

Tears silently traced paths down her cheeks.

If only they had never endured such a disaster…

But life had to go on.

Though nights were steeped in melancholy, by daylight Shu Wanxiu reached a clarity: aside from her longing for family, all her troubles stemmed from poverty.

The solution to earning money, as Paternal Uncle had suggested, lay in harvesting resources from the water.

Paternal Uncle and the others planned to catch larger fish to sell before going to the county seat next month to collect relief grain, and they had asked if she wanted to join.

Previously, having no alternative money-making ideas, Shu Wanxiu hadn’t given him an answer.

Now, having thought it through, she considered drying small fish and shrimp over fire and gathering fresh vegetables to sell.

Yesterday, Xun Yi mentioned the rabbit pelts were tanned and would be delivered today, so she skipped fishing. She only made two trips up the mountain in the morning to gather firewood.

Her home had no woodshed, so recently collected dry branches were broken and neatly stacked under the wooden awning, now piled high like a wall.

Had these been large logs, they might have sufficed for winter, but these were merely thin dead twigs that burned too quickly.

Shu Wanxiu wouldn’t feel secure until she filled the eaves on both sides of the house and reserved half the main room for firewood storage.

Waiting anxiously, she finally saw Xun Yi approaching the hill around noon, carrying the rabbit pelts.

This was the first time Shu Wanxiu and Shu Shouyi had seen tanned rabbit pelts.

Taking them from Xun Yi, both stared in wonder, reaching out to stroke the fur.

“So warm and fluffy.”

“Yes, very soft.”

The furry side was supple, while the inner side felt somewhat stiff.

Shu Wanxiu even brought one to her nose, detecting an indescribable scent, though not pungent overall.

Only after thoroughly examining them did she realize her discourtesy.

“Thank you, Brother Xun. You’ve worked hard.”

“Please wait a moment, I’ll fetch a stool.”

With near-sprinting speed, Shu Wanxiu brought a stool and poured water for Xun Yi.

Hesitating briefly, Xun Yi sat down.

His stature was excessively tall, making the ordinary stool seem like a tiny bench beneath him.

Shu Shouyi blinked, clutching a pelt while sitting far away from him.

…

Since she had invited him to stay awhile, as host she naturally had to offer hospitality.

A lone man and woman sitting together might seem improper, but since he had helped them, keeping their distance would appear too aloof.

With limited options, Shu Wanxiu carefully gauged the situation and decided not to sit. Instead, she remained standing under the eaves, breaking firewood.

Xun Yi was preoccupied with his thoughts and didn’t realize Shu Wanxiu was avoiding him to prevent gossip.