Making A Fortune Through Hunting To Support My Wife - Chapter 16

When they returned, the blazing sun was still high in the sky. The air felt increasingly scorching, as if the entire horizon were trapped inside a giant steamer, humid and suffocating.

Upon arriving home, Xu Jing immediately went to the village well, huffing and puffing as she hauled several buckets of water back. Her shoulders ached with a dull, throbbing pain. Beads of sweat rolled from her forehead, trailing along her thin jawline before splashing into the dirt.

Over the past two days, she had been up in the mountains and hadn’t fetched any water. The household supply was tight, and they had been relying entirely on Song Yu carrying half-buckets home at a time. Thus, Xu Jing decided to haul extra today to build up a reserve.

“Sooner or later, I’ve got to dig a well. Fetching water is way too much trouble,” Xu Jing muttered, putting the buckets down with deep resentment.

But digging a well cost money, at least two or three taels of silver. It was a significant expense, and with only a little over a hundred copper coins in her pocket, she couldn’t afford it yet.

Suddenly, a thought struck her. Her heart stirred and her eyes lit up. “Since I have the time right now… I’ve got it!”

Xu Jing grabbed a machete from the house and headed to the mountainside behind the Xu residence. She cut down several stalks of bamboo and dragged them back to the courtyard. She planned to saw the bamboo into sections and knock out the internal nodes to create a simple water pipe.

She had heard that these bamboo stalks were specially planted by the late Old Man Xu. In Dayue Village, bamboo wasn’t worth much. There were several groves nearby, but they were “bitter bamboo” the shoots they produced were acrid and unpleasant to eat. If used as firewood, the segments would explode in the stove, making them inferior to dry mountain brushwood. Consequently, the villagers didn’t care for them.

The only people who liked those groves were the bamboo weavers and the village boys. The weavers used the material for their craft, while the boys loved hunting bamboo rats. Those rats grew large and fat, catching one or two provided a rare feast for a family to improve their diet.

As Xu Jing was huffing and sawing through the bamboo, Song Yu’s voice sounded beside her.

“This is water steeped with honeysuckle and mint leaves. It helps clear heat and detoxify.”

Xu Jing wiped the sweat from her face with a towel and, without looking up, gave a muffled “thank you.”

Song Yu gave a soft “mm” and placed the small clay jar of water next to Xu Jing’s crude toolbox. “Can this bamboo be used to catch prey too?”

Xu Jing looked up, about to explain, when her eyes fell on the tool Song Yu was carrying.

“What are you doing going out with a hoe?”

“To weed the fields.” Song Yu adjusted the straw hat on her head, looking ready to depart.

The field work used to be done by the original “Xu Jing.” It seemed that while Xu Jing had been hunting in the mountains these past two days, Grandma Xu had assigned the field chores to Song Yu. Though it wasn’t the peak harvest season, field work was never easy. It meant facing the earth with one’s back to the sun, aching muscles, sharp weeds that could cut skin, and grueling heat.

“I cleared the weeds just a few days ago, it shouldn’t be a big deal yet. I’ll tend to it later when I’m free,” Xu Jing said. “You stay home and help out here.”

The young girl already had her hands full, cooking early every morning, cleaning, washing, mending, feeding the chickens, cutting grass, gathering firewood, and tending the vegetable garden. Xu Jing recognized the value of her labor and didn’t want to pile more onto her thin, fragile shoulders. Besides, Grandma Xu checked the fields occasionally, nothing disastrous would happen in a day.

Despite the mundane nature of the words, Song Yu felt a sense of being cared for and protected. It felt as though this strange place finally held some of the warmth of a family, rather than being something terrifying.

However, the thought was fleeting. Song Yu composed herself. “It’s nothing. I used to work in the fields at home too.”

When Song Yu was with the Song family, she indeed helped her father harvest beans and pull weeds, lighter tasks. Though her constitution wasn’t the strongest, she wasn’t delicate and could be considered a capable worker. Now that she was with the Xu family, where Xu Jing was the only heavy laborer who also had to hunt for money, she felt even more obligated to work the land.

Seeing that the girl was stubborn and intent on leaving, Xu Jing sighed softly.

“Fine. But I want to pipe water down from the mountain first. It’ll make daily life much easier if we don’t have to carry it from the village well.” Xu Jing picked up a sawn bamboo section. “I’ll need your help later to connect the joints and check if the water flows smoothly. I probably can’t manage this alone. Can you help me with this first? We can go to the fields together later, how about that?”

Faced with Xu Jing’s request, a flicker of hesitation crossed Song Yu’s eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Grandma. She’ll definitely agree. It’s getting hotter and we need more water. I don’t want to carry it every day either, the shoulder pole is making my shoulders ache.” Xu Jing let out a breath, emphasizing her loathing for the chore.

Ultimately, Song Yu nodded in agreement.

Xu Jing smiled. She truly did want to bring the mountain water down. Compared to the field work, the water issue was more urgent.

The Mountain Pipeline

Xu Jing had cut quite a lot of bamboo. After clearing the joints, she and Song Yu dragged the bamboo up the mountain. Xu Jing didn’t want the girl to pull the heavy stalks, but Song Yu insisted, so Xu Jing reluctantly let her help.

On the mountainside to the rear left of the Xu house, there was a pond fed by mountain streams and a spring at the bottom. The pond was over a mile away, separated by steep paths, dense woods, and jagged rocks. Piping water through bamboo would bypass this difficult terrain and save immense labor.

“Oh? Isn’t that Jing-ge? What are you two lovebirds doing dragging bamboo up there?” a villager out gathering firewood called out curiously.

“The house doesn’t have a well, so it’s a hassle. We’re trying to pipe some water down from the mountain to save ourselves some work,” Xu Jing replied. She didn’t recognize the villager specifically, but the face was familiar.

The villager gave her a thumbs up. “Jing-ge, you’ve got a sharp mind!”

Xu Jing smiled and didn’t linger. Between clearing the path and digging a shallow trench for the bamboo, they were exhausted by the time they reached the pond.

“I’m going to open the flow! Xiao Yu, watch the joints to see if they leak. If they do, we’ll need to reinforce them,” Xu Jing called out, raising her hoe as if performing a ceremony.

“Okay!” Song Yu followed the line of bamboo downward, feeling a sense of simple childhood joy.

The hoe fell, Xu Jing cleared the mud from the intake, and cool water surged into the bamboo pipe.

“Here! Over here!” Song Yu called from a connection point.

Xu Jing hurried over with her hoe. “Coming!”

With water in the pipe, Xu Jing gripped the joints and twisted them slightly to ensure a tight seal. They checked and repaired the line as they went, replacing any cracked segments with larger bamboo sleeves. This required Song Yu to run back to the pond to shut off the water each time, which was quite a workout.

Xu Jing finished a repair and heard Song Yu’s approaching footsteps. “Take a break. There shouldn’t be many left. I can handle the rest.”

The girl was out of breath from running. Her pale, delicate face was flushed pink, and a stray lock of hair was tangled from a branch, giving her a more lively, playful appearance. Song Yu wanted to refuse, but seeing Xu Jing staring at her, the words caught in her throat. She instinctively looked away.

Xu Jing didn’t notice the tension. She blinked, wiping away a mix of sweat and water droplets. “It’s about to rain. We need to hurry.”

Rain?

Song Yu looked up. A cold drop splashed onto her cheek, followed by a gust of pre-storm wind that chased away the summer heat. Summer storms came fast and heavy.

Xu Jing had just finished the last joint when the light rain turned into a downpour. The sky turned as black as the bottom of a pot, and huge drops began to pelt them.

“Yikes! Let’s go!”

Xu Jing abandoned the remaining checks and urged Song Yu to run for home. They weren’t far and made it back quickly, but they were both drenched and disheveled. Xu Jing looked the worst, her face and hands were streaked with mud from the repairs. After being washed by the rain and wiped by her hands, she looked like a calico cat, streaks of yellow and white everywhere.

Wringing out the hem of her wet clothes, Xu Jing saw the girl looking like a sodden kitten, her hair hanging in clumps. She frowned slightly and instructed, “The rain is cold. Go change into dry clothes first. I’ll change in a bit.”

The girl’s constitution was weak; she couldn’t risk a fever.

Before Song Yu could speak, a voice filled with shock and a hint of anger rang out. “What on earth have you two been doing?”

Grandma Xu, who had been sewing, came to the main room and saw the two “drowned rats.” She eyed them suspiciously. She had sent Song Yu to the fields, and though she didn’t know where Xu Jing had gone, here they were returning together.

Suppressing her suspicion, her brow already wrinkled enough to catch a fly, furrowed deeper. She looked past Song Yu and barked at Xu Jing, “Why are you still standing there? Go change. If you catch a cold, this old woman hasn’t got the money to treat you.”

Xu Jing’s lip twitched. “Grandma, we were just about to.” She signaled Song Yu to go first.

Song Yu pursed her lips and headed to the bedroom. Once she was gone, Xu Jing turned to Grandma Xu. “Grandma, has the Medium Ge left?”

Grandma Xu nodded. Her expression softened slightly toward Xu Jing, but seeing her bedraggled state, she scowled again. “There’s dried ginger on the cupboard in the kitchen. Don’t say I didn’t tell you.”

With a huff, Grandma Xu turned to leave. As she walked away, Xu Jing heard her mutter, “It really looks like I’ve found ‘her’ a wife…”

Xu Jing raised an eyebrow in surprise at the remark but said nothing.

The Evening Meal and the Leaky Roof

Once Song Yu returned in dry clothes, she found Xu Jing at the stove. “There’s red sugar and ginger tea brewing in the pot,” Xu Jing said. “Drink it once it boils to keep the cold away.”

“Red sugar and ginger tea?”

“Yeah. I bought it along with the salt and soy sauce. I saw we were out, so I picked some up.”

Because the ginger was started in cold water, its medicinal properties were preserved, but the taste was incredibly pungent. Xu Jing gave a bowl to Grandma Xu, a large bowl to Song Yu, and stood at the door sipping her own, watching the torrential rain outside.

However, her peaceful mood didn’t last.

“Are you kidding? The house is leaking too?!” Xu Jing stared at several spots in the main hall where water was dripping, her expression sour.

She checked the other rooms. Aside from the hall, the small storeroom was also leaking. Luckily, it was minor, and placing basins underneath prevented any items from getting wet.

“The thatch must have rotted from the sun and wind,” Song Yu said softly, a trace of worry in her eyes.

Xu Jing sighed. “Once the rain stops, I’ll fix the roof tomorrow. I don’t want it raining inside every time it rains outside.”

With the heavy rain, the mountain would be too dangerous. Her planned trip with Wang Hu would have to be postponed. The storm lasted over an hour, leaving the ground riddled with muddy puddles. Since the courtyard wasn’t paved, Xu Jing had to wear wooden clogs to keep her feet out of the muck.

Eventually, the downpour turned into a steady, misty drizzle. Xu Jing stayed in the kitchen with Song Yu to render the pork fat she had bought that morning. They filled a whole jar with lard, enough to last a long time. They snacked on the leftover crispy pork rinds sprinkled with sugar. Xu Jing ate a fair share, looking thoroughly satisfied.

While Song Yu rendered the fat, Xu Jing prepared the dough. Once it had risen, Song Yu took over to roll the skins and wrap the white flour dumplings Xu Jing had been craving. Song Yu’s dumplings were plump and elegant. Xu Jing’s were merely functional.

“I see you’re just a spendthrift. You don’t know how to live at all,” Grandma Xu grumbled as she looked at the dumplings and leftovers on the table. “Meat for lunch, white flour dumplings for dinner… even Landlord He wouldn’t eat like this. You’ve got money to burn…”

Despite her nagging, she didn’t try to seize the money or the household authority back.

Xu Jing just smiled. “Grandma, landlords eat far better than this. It’s just because I made a little money hunting. It’s nothing compared to having hundreds of acres of good land.”

At the mention of “good land,” Grandma Xu’s nagging faltered. She looked at Xu Jing. “Jing’er, land is the root for us country folk. Everything else is just temporary.”

In the Great Kang Dynasty, society was divided into scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants. Though it wasn’t as strict as some eras in Earth’s history, traditional people still held onto these values.

Xu Jing swallowed a dumpling and didn’t argue. She glanced at the quietly eating Song Yu and said softly, “I know, Grandma. When I’m able, I’ll buy land. We’ll make life better and better, and you can just enjoy your old age.”

Hearing Xu Jing “paint this picture,” Grandma Xu’s harsh features softened. She sighed. “If your grandfather, your first uncle, and your second uncle were still here, we’d certainly have more land than this.”

Xu Jing didn’t respond. In the original host’s memory, Grandma Xu was obsessed with land but rarely spoke of the men in the family who had likely died far away.

Xu Jing finished her meal feeling full and content. If only the pitter-patter of rain outside would stop, everything would be perfect.