I Am A Husband Curser, And You Are A Wife Curser. - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Never-Ending Chores

Xiangxi habitually fed Bao’er first. Once the child was full and his sister-in-law had finished eating, she took the baby so that it was finally Xiangxi’s turn to eat.

“I’m going to order the quilts for your wedding tomorrow. Do you have any colors or patterns you like?” The sister-in-law planned to find the cotton-fluffer while the weather was good to get the wedding bedding made in advance.

“I’ll follow your lead, sister-in-law.” Xiangxi had no particular preference.

“Your brother said he wanted to have a chest made for your dowry, but you’re getting married in February. I’m afraid it’s too late to find a carpenter now. My two dowry chests are still usable; why don’t you pick one? I’ll have a carpenter give it a fresh coat of lacquer, and no one will be able to tell.” If it weren’t to save the money for a new chest, she wouldn’t have been willing to part with her own dowry for him.

Xiangxi looked at the two chests in the corner and chose the one on top, which was used more often and looked older.

“Fine, that one it is,” she said, feeling a twinge of regret, but there was no other way.

The Little New Year arrived quickly, and the Xiang family finally packed up their stall to rest for a few days. Xiangxi was doing a deep clean of the house when he heard a knock at the door. By the time he walked out of his room, his brother had already opened the gate.

It was Yang Tongchuan, bringing New Year’s gifts. He had brought an entire quarter of a pig.

“Brother-in-law, you’re far too generous.” Xiang Qiang remembered that even though the previous suitor, the butcher Cheng, was in the trade, he had never been this open-handed with meat.

“It’s the same for everyone; I sent the same to my eldest brother’s in-laws.” Yang Tongchuan glanced toward the inner rooms. Xiang Qiang knew he was looking for Xiangxi.

“Come in and sit. Xixi is inside working.” With that, Xiang Qiang led Yang Tongchuan toward the west room. Since they were to be married after the New Year, it was good for the two to get better acquainted.

Working again. Why is Xiangxi always working?

Yang Tongchuan felt a flicker of annoyance. Even the maid in his own house wasn’t as busy as Xiangxi. He had noticed last time that Xiangxi’s hands were swollen from the cold and his ears were nearly cracked. It was as if this family were blind and couldn’t see it.

Entering the west room, he saw Bao’er playing with a cloth tiger on the heated kang bed. Xiangxi had just put down a rag, looking as though he had indeed been cleaning.

“You two chat,” Xiang Qiang said, picking up Bao’er to give them a chance to speak privately. Since his wife was out buying New Year’s goods, Xiang Qiang took the child to the courtyard to play.

“You’re here… I’ll go get you some water.” Xiangxi turned to head out.

“No need. I have to head back soon; there’s a lot to do at home.” Yang Tongchuan reached out and caught Xiangxi, taking his hand as he did so.

Fortunately, it didn’t look as swollen as last time, and the cracks on his ears had scabbed over.

“Have you been using the frostbite ointment?” Yang Tongchuan’s thumb couldn’t help but gently rub Xiangxi’s knuckles. They were nearly deformed from overwork.

“I have… I use it before bed.” Xiangxi didn’t have the heart to say he only used a tiny bit occasionally, spending most of the time just holding the box in his hands.

“Apply it several times a day. When it’s gone, I’ll buy more for you.” Yang Tongchuan felt a bit of regret. He shouldn’t have come in such a hurry; he should have circled the market first to buy more things for Xiangxi.

“Okay.” Xiangxi thought Yang Tongchuan found his hands ugly and felt embarrassed, trying to pull his hand back.

The first attempt failed. The second failed as well. Xiangxi looked up at him, puzzled.

“Just hold on for a few more days. It’ll be better once we’re married. We have a maid and my sister-in-law at home; you won’t have to do so much work. You can take your time and recover; it will heal eventually.” Yang Tongchuan’s words sounded less like they were for Xiangxi and more like a promise to himself.

This is my person, the ger I’ve paid a dowry for. How dare the Xiang family work him like this? Yang Tongchuan’s grip tightened unconsciously, hurting Xiangxi.

“Yang Tongchuan, it hurts…” Xiangxi whispered.

Yang Tongchuan snapped out of it and loosened his grip, but didn’t let go. “What did you call me?”

“Yang… Yang Tongchuan.” Xiangxi wasn’t sure if that was the right way to address him.

“When no one else is around, you don’t need to use my full name.” Yang Tongchuan recalled that his sister-in-law only used his brother’s full name when she was fuming; usually, she called him “Husband.”

“Then what should I call you? Tongchuan? Or A-Chuan?” Xiangxi’s voice was soft and waxy, like a kitten’s paw scratching at the heart.

“Suit yourself.” Yang Tongchuan swallowed hard, slightly regretting that he hadn’t let Xiangxi bring him that water to cool his “internal heat.”

“And what will you call me?” Xiangxi was a good boy; if he didn’t understand something, he asked.

Yang Tongchuan looked at his bashful expression and felt a surge of playfulness. He leaned down, bringing his head close to Xiangxi’s ear. His nose brushed against the shell of Xiangxi’s ear as he whispered:

“I shall call you… my darling heart (Xin Gan).”

Having teased his future husband, Yang Tongchuan felt his mood lift immensely, as if he had finally vented a long-held breath of frustration.

Xiangxi had never encountered such a bold rogue, and to think it was his own fiancé. He almost wanted to report it to the authorities, but he was afraid the one who showed up would be Yang Tongchuan himself.

“I’m done teasing. Do less work and just wait for the wedding.”

After the banter, Yang Tongchuan left the room; it wasn’t proper to stay alone together for too long. With a stern face, he bid farewell to Xiang Qiang in the courtyard and departed. Things were busy at the yamen before the New Year, and he had to get back to his shift.

His colleagues at the yamen all knew he was getting married. Some offered blessings, while others made snide remarks. Yang Tongchuan took it all in stride. A low-level constable like him wouldn’t dare invite a high-ranking official like the County Magistrate to his wedding, but when he requested leave, the Magistrate found out and rewarded him with some silver. Yang Tongchuan didn’t keep it all; he gave half to his mother and kept the rest.

At the Xiang House

When the sister-in-law returned and saw the quarter-pig, she was stunned. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have bought so much meat.” She set down her shopping, thinking that this year would finally be a prosperous one.

“It’s the New Year; there’s nothing wrong with more meat. Xixi, come help me butcher this.” Xiang Qiang sharpened his knife.

Xiangxi’s face was still burning, but he forced himself to come out and help. The hock was saved for stewing, and the tender cuts were set aside for New Year stir-fries. The pig was fatty; that thick layer of lard would yield a lot of cooking oil.

Dinner was made by Xiangxi: potato and pork stew. In winter, it was usually just cabbage, radishes, or potatoes. To have such a luxurious pot of pork stew was a rare treat.

Before the year ended, Xiangxi’s dowry was finally ready and packed into the large chest. The wedding robe was finished and placed right at the top. This was the last New Year Xiangxi would spend here, and it was the most comfortable one he had ever known.

On the first day of the Lunar New Year, the first thing Xiangxi said was to himself: Xiangxi, Happy New Year.

Since the sister-in-law had long since broken ties with her own family, and the brothers had no other relatives to visit, they spent every New Year renting a stall at the temple fair in the West Market to sell sugar paintings and candied haws. At this time of year, that money was much easier to earn than selling wheat cakes.