Chapter 2, Poor Couples
The thatched cottage was dark and murky, and the river flowed in from the bright courtyard. My eyes could not adjust for a moment, rendering me unable to see anything or know what to do, leaving me standing there in a daze
What kind of wild vegetable dumplings is Jiang Zhuliu eating now? A few stalks of wild vegetables mixed with some wheat bran, and there isn't even any salt. Can this thing even have any flavor? Back in 2007, even pig feed was more nutritious than this stuff
Jiang's mother did not respond. Jiang Zhuliu was taken aback, wondering if his mother was upset with him for not talking to her and only thinking about food. Just as he was about to explain, he heard the sound of even, delicate breathing coming from the bedside. It turned out that Jiang's mother was still ill and weak. She had just seen her son return and felt happy, so she mustered the strength to stand up. After a bout of crying, she released all the longing she had accumulated for her son over the past two months. This made her feel much lighter but also drained her of considerable energy. Therefore, when she lay back down on the bed, although she still held onto Jiang Zhuliu's hand, reluctant to let go, the feeling of fatigue soon caused her to fall asleep without realizing it.
Jiang Zhuliu wiped away his tears and regained his composure. Since he could no longer be filial to his mother in another world, he decided to comfort the elderly woman before him. He nodded to Yuan Dong'er, then supported Jiang's mother on either side, saying: "Mother, please do not cry. Your health is important; let us get you to bed to rest for a while"
Yuan Dong'er is only seventeen years old, a time when a girl is in full bloom. What should the hands of a girl in this beautiful season look like? Jiang Zhuliu certainly knows; he was aware during middle school of what kind of hands his sixteen or seventeen-year-old female classmates had: those delicate hands appeared round and smooth, slightly chubby like a baby's, thus giving them a plumpness that seemed as if a light tap could make them spring forth with water. The slender fingers were clean and fair, with pointed long nails that had been meticulously groomed, adorned with a variety of colorful patterns, and at the very least, coated with a layer of clear nail polish. Such a pair of small hands, once held in one's palm, not only felt soft and smooth but also emanated a faint, elusive fragrance of youthful femininity.
After crying for a while, Jiang's mother felt much lighter in her heart, and she allowed her son and daughter-in-law to support her as they walked towards the bed.
Yuan Dong'er pushed open the courtyard gate woven from brambles, just as she was about to pull Jiang Zhuliu inside, but she paused. She took out a small handkerchief, shyly smiled at Jiang Zhuliu, and then, on tiptoe, carefully wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Mother Jiang lay in bed, still reluctant to let go of Jiang Zhuliu's hand, pulling him to ask various questions. How could Jiang Zhuliu possibly answer so many questions? He could only blush and stammer, repeatedly urging Mother Jiang to rest more and speak less
"You cannot do that!" A voice struggled to shout in Jiang Zhuliu's heart: "You are not her husband. If you do that, you will be a beast!"
Is this still a girl's hand
Jiang Zhuliu secretly enjoys wild vegetables, which are excellent, pure green food free from pollution and pesticides. When studying at Henan University of Finance and Economics, wild vegetable dumplings were only consumed by wealthy and privileged offspring, while ordinary working-class youths like Jiang Zhuliu could only afford refined flour steamed buns
Jiangcun is located at the foot of the Taihang Mountains. At the northernmost end of Jiangcun, on a small hillside, stand three thatched cottages, isolated and solitary. Surrounding the cottages is a yard of over one hundred square meters enclosed by a fence made of wooden stakes; this is Jiangzhou's home
Upon leaving the main house, Yuan Dong'er heard the old hen clucking loudly in the nest, which brought her joy, as it seemed the hen had laid eggs again. She approached the nest, gently moved the hen aside, but found no eggs inside. She then reached out to feel the hen's rear, which was soft and squishy, indicating that there were no fully formed eggs yet.
Jiang Zhuliu's eyes sparkled with brilliance, nodding repeatedly like a chicken pecking at grains.
Yuan Dong'er gave a bitter smile and said, "My lord, this is all the food we have at home. I hope we can last until the autumn harvest"
"My lord, do not cry, for mother cannot bear it." Yuan Dong'er softly whispered this into Jiang Zhuliu's ear, pulling him out of his boundless sorrow
Indeed, Mother, the child is hungry! May I go to the kitchen to eat something first, and then come back to accompany you?" Jiang Zhuliu pleaded softly with his mother, his voice sounding so filled with appetite that it seemed as if he were speaking not with his vocal cords but with his stomach.
The old hen tilted its head and looked at Yuan Dong'er, showing no fear of her
On a stone platform lay a rush mat that had lost all its color, riddled with holes; the largest hole was bigger than a basin, while the smallest could accommodate a sea bowl. Along one side of the stone bed against the wall was a coarse hemp blanket, patched all over, presumably belonging to Mother Jiang. At the head of the stone bed, right next to the rush mat, was a carefully woven straw pillow made of wheat straw, which appeared to have been recently crafted. Clearly, this was the only new bedding item added by Mother Jiang, made by Yuan Dong'er. With the wheat harvest not long past, the countryside still had an abundance of wheat straw.
"Mother, look who has returned!" Yuan Dong'er exclaimed loudly
The old hen tilted its head and glanced at its owner twice, realizing that it could not beg for food any longer. Reluctantly, it clucked twice and went to the corner to scratch for insects to eat
Can it be the same? What are the wild vegetable dumplings in the cafeteria of the Finance Institute made of? In addition to wild vegetables, there are also soybeans, red beans, peanuts, and other foods rich in high-quality protein. For those who are a bit more particular, they might also add shiitake mushrooms and shrimp. These ingredients are mixed together and then combined with premium first-grade flour imported from the United States, meticulously kneaded into dumplings. After being steamed at high temperature, they emerge piping hot. Then, they are mixed with aged vinegar from Shanxi and fragrant sesame oil from Zhumadian for a harmonious blend. How could they not be delicious?
You are once again misreporting the military situation! Yuan Dong'er pointed her finger at the old hen's head, asking, "Are you looking to get beaten?"
Looking at the makeshift object before him that could hardly be called a bed, Jiang Zhuliu felt a pang of sadness. It is summer now, which is bearable, but he worries about how Jiang's mother and Yuan Dong'er will cope with the harsh winter.
"Zhou'er, it really is you, you have truly returned. Your mother has missed you so much!" Mother Jiang, with her parched hands, affectionately caressed Jiang Zhiliu's face, but as she continued to touch him, she suddenly broke down in tears.
Yuan Dong'er’s hands were clearly not like this; she subverted all of Jiang Zhuliu's concepts of a girl's hands and even of women's hands. Yuan Dong'er’s palms were crisscrossed with deep grooves, the lines etched so profoundly that they were almost frightening. The edges of her palms were covered with hard, rough calluses, suggesting that she could scratch someone’s itch without using her nails, merely by rubbing her palms back and forth. Of course, Yuan Dong'er also could not use her nails to scratch an itch; her ten fingers were bare, with extremely short nails, and a few of them were even curled up. Her hands were dark and rough, with countless cracks from her fingers to the back of her hands, resembling numerous weeping little mouths. If Jiang Zhuliu did not lower his head to examine them closely, he would hardly believe that what he held in his palm was a hand; he might even think it was a dry tree branch with several forks.
As he spoke, Jiang Zhuliu's eyes had already adjusted to the dim light in the room. He saw a frail figure struggling to get out of bed and groping her way toward him. There was no need to ask; this was Jiang Zhou's mother.
Yuan Dong'er said again: "I hope the heavens will send some rain soon; otherwise, if it continues to be so dry, I fear there will be a complete crop failure in autumn"
"Is it? Is Zhou'er back?" An aged voice echoed from within, followed by a rustling sound.
"I know you want to beg for some rice to eat," Yuan Dong'er sighed as she stroked the bony hen, "but there is nothing for people to eat, so how could there be millet to feed you? Be good, go outside and scratch for some grass roots and insects to eat."
Yuan Dong'er looked at Jiang Zhuliu and couldn't help but laugh. She held up the two eggs in her hand for Jiang Zhuliu to see, "My lord, you are simply like a starving ghost reincarnated. Don't worry, I will fry you an egg pancake right away"
Jiang Zhuliu chuckled lightly; when it comes to attentiveness, how can men compare to women
Jiang Zhuliu grew increasingly sorrowful, unable to restrain himself as he embraced his mother, crying out loudly. Scalding hot tears flowed recklessly down his face, washing away the dust and darkness, revealing the intersecting white ravines on his face.
Yuan Dong'er was naturally unaware of the intense internal struggle Jiang Zhuliu was experiencing. After wiping Jiang Zhuliu's sweat, she used her handkerchief to dab the fine beads of sweat on her own forehead, then put away the handkerchief and pulled Jiang Zhuliu, who was caught in a struggle between beastly instincts and something even lower, into the small courtyard
Another voice emerged from the depths of Jiang Zhuliu's heart: "Why not? Your current identity is her husband. Just think about it, even beasts dare to kiss her; if you do not dare to kiss her, are you not even inferior to a beast?"
In fact, she is the one who is truly reluctant to kill the old hen. It is a benefactor of the household. The salt, lamp oil, needles, and threads in the house all come from its rear end
"Dong'er, where are the other grains in the house? Where are they stored?" Jiang Zhuliu asked as he covered the jar, turning to inquire of Yuan Dong'er.
"Sir, why are you standing here foolishly? Why don't you go pay your respects to Mother?" Yuan Dong'er said reproachfully from behind.
Arriving at a thatched cottage in the center, Yuan Dong'er pushed open the door and shoved the dazed Jiang Zhuliu inside
"Wheat bran!" Yuan Dong'er appeared even more puzzled, "My lord, have you lost your memory to the extent that you no longer recognize wheat bran?"
Yuan Dong'er and Jiang Zhou have been married for three months, but they have only truly lived together for one month. During that month, Jiang Zhou spent most of his time preparing for the provincial examination, so Yuan Dong'er hardly knows what kind of person her husband is. The scene that unfolded today between mother and son made Yuan Dong'er feel that she is beginning to truly understand her husband.
Jiang Zhuliu made a gesture to Yuan Dong'er, then gently withdrew his hand from Jiang's mother's palm. He pulled over a coarse linen blanket from the side and covered Jiang's mother with it, before quietly retreating. Yuan Dong'er smiled knowingly and carefully followed Jiang Zhuliu out of the room
She is still a seventeen-year-old child, yet her hands resemble those of a sixty-year-old woman. Jiang Zhuliu gazed at Yuan Dong'er’s beautiful face, feeling both pity and pain in his heart. What kind of life has tarnished the hands of this girl, who is as lovely as a fairy?
Furrowing his brows, Jiang Zhuliu finished the two wild vegetable dumplings. Still feeling unsatisfied, he licked his lips and looked at Yuan Dong'er with a pitiful gaze
After taking a bite, Jiang Zhuliu almost cried! Damn it! From now on, anyone who says wild vegetable dumplings are delicious will have Jiang Zhuliu to deal with. Damn it! Can this thing even be eaten? It's both bitter and astringent, and it feels like it’s scratching my throat. I bet even the U.S. military at Guantanamo Bay wouldn’t dare use this stuff to torture members of Al-Qaeda.
As Jiang stepped forward to open the small jar, he discovered that only a little flour remained inside. Clearly, the two small scoops of flour taken earlier had already removed half of the jar's stock. Looking at the large jar, however, there was still more than half of the bran left.
But how could he refuse? Yuan Dong'er had already added water to the basin and started kneading the dough. Even if Jiang Zhuliu were to leave at this moment, half of the Jiang family's fine grain would be gone. Jiang Zhuliu was determined that when the pancakes were cooked, he absolutely could not eat them; he would save them for Jiang Mu and Yuan Dong'er. In addition, Jiang Zhuliu planned to think of ways to earn money to buy food, alleviating the Jiang family's predicament. Since he had received a meal's worth of kindness from Yuan Dong'er, he could not fail to repay it. Compared to Yuan Dong'er, Jiang Zhuliu was not only a man but also had over a thousand years of civilizational experience. Jiang Zhuliu did not believe that, with his more than a thousand years of historical experience, he could not solve a family's food problem upon arriving in the Northern Song Dynasty.
Upon arriving at the kitchen, Yuan Dong'er took down a thorn basket from the wall, which contained two green dumplings with a hint of black, made from wild vegetables. Yuan Dong'er handed the wild vegetable dumplings to Jiang Zhuliu and said, "My lord, please fill your stomach first. I will start the fire to cook you two flatbreads right away"
Jiang Zhuliu hurriedly stepped forward, grasping the old man's hand and calling out: "Mother, it is I, it is Zhou'er who has returned." On the way, Yuan Dong'er had already discussed with Jiang Zhuliu that Jiang's mother was physically weak and could not withstand any shocks, so they needed to keep the matter of Jiang Zhuliu's "amnesia" a secret from her. Therefore, in front of Jiang's mother, Jiang Zhuliu had to pretend to be a normal son.
When Yuan Dong'er held Jiang Zhuliu's hand, Jiang Zhuliu felt a sudden pang in his heart, not for any other reason, but because of the small hand in his palm
Yuan Dong'er took out an egg and placed the ceramic jar back on the shelf. She hesitated for a moment at the door, gritted her teeth, and then turned back, retrieving the remaining egg from the ceramic jar
In Jiang Zhuliu's impression, a woman's hands are delicate, slender, refined, and soft. In literary works, descriptions of women's hands often use phrases such as "fingers like spring onions," "slender white hands," and "ten fingers sharp as fine bamboo shoots." Whenever Jiang Zhuliu reads these phrases, he often marvels at how apt they are, vividly depicting the beauty of a woman's smooth, jade-like hands.
"Yes, mother, do not cry! Am I not back safe and sound?" Jiang Zhuliu comforted Jiang's mother, yet tears also fell from his eyes. Although he was not the old man's biological son, seeing the old man cry in such sorrow made him feel a pang of heartache.
Jiang Zhuliu decided to leave the Jiang family after dinner, seeking ways to earn some money outside and then send it back to Yuan Dong'er. As for the reason for his departure, he had already thought it through; he would say he was visiting friends and mentors to prepare for the next provincial examination. On the way, Jiang Zhuliu understood that although Yuan Dong'er loved her husband dearly and was reluctant to see him go, she unconditionally supported his pursuit of fame and success. It was precisely for this reason that Yuan Dong'er allowed Jiang Zhou to go to Luoyang to participate in the provincial examination less than a month after their wedding.
The weather was scorching hot, and after hastily covering ten miles, Jiang Zhuliu was drenched in sweat, feeling utterly uncomfortable. However, when Yuan Dong'er stood on her tiptoes to wipe his sweat, all his discomfort and heat were instantly cast aside: Yuan Dong'er's beautiful face was so close to him, her luscious cherry lips just beneath Jiang Zhuliu's eyelids, and her fragrant breath wafted onto his face, tempting him, as if all he had to do was lean down to kiss those alluring red lips.
Jiang Zhou's mother weeps bitterly because her missing son has returned, yet in another world a thousand years later, there will also be an elderly mother heartbroken over the loss of her son. Jiang Zhou has gone missing, but there is still this imposter son to comfort his mother; yet who can console his own mother in her grief over losing her child? His mother has painstakingly raised him for over twenty years, and just as he is about to graduate and start working to repay her, he mysteriously finds himself in the Northern Song Dynasty. How can Jiang Zhuliu cope with and express the pain and regret of this situation?
Jiang Zhuliu had not eaten a single grain of rice for two days, and had just been busy comforting Jiang's mother, temporarily forgetting his hunger. At this moment, when Yuan Dong'er mentioned it, the feeling of hunger surged forth from his stomach like a tidal wave, overwhelming him completely. Under the onslaught of hunger, Jiang Zhuliu felt that every part of his body had completely melted away; apart from a burning and searing stomach, nothing else remained.
Jiang Zhuliu's heart sank with a thud, as if crushed by a stone roller. He had not expected that Jiang Zhou's family was so impoverished; all the grain combined amounted to only this little. With such a meager amount of grain, how could they possibly survive until the autumn harvest
Yuan Dong'er noticed Jiang Zhuliu staring at her intently, feeling both shy and delighted. It seemed that although her husband had lost his memory, he had not lost his affection for her. Her small face was flushed like that of a tipsy person, yet she remained silent, happily pulling Jiang Zhuliu's hand as they walked along.
Jiang Zhuliu remained silent, unsure of what to do. He harbored extreme contempt for himself; as a grown man, how could he shamelessly deceive for a meal? Yuan Dong'er and Jiang's mother relied on this meager food supply to last until the autumn harvest, and even to survive until the following summer. Yet, a single meal for him would consume half of the family's fine grains. Was he still human?
"Mother, why are you crying? The master has returned; this is a joyous occasion. You should be happy, so why are you still crying?" Yuan Dong'er comforted, supporting Jiang's mother's arm.
One reason Jiang Zhuliu plans to leave the Jiang family is to go out and earn money to repay Yuan Dong'er for her kindness. However, there is an even more significant reason. He is not truly Jiang Zhou; he is merely Yuan Dong'er's impostor husband. Although Jiang Zhou is currently missing, who knows whether he is alive or dead? If Jiang Zhou were to return, how would Jiang Zhuliu face such a situation? Even if Jiang Zhuliu does not worry for himself, he must be concerned for Yuan Dong'er. This is the Northern Song Dynasty, which emphasizes that "starvation is a minor issue, but losing one's integrity is a major one." Once Yuan Dong'er sees her true husband, will she have the face to continue living in this world?
Of course, before Jiang Zhuliu leaves, Yuan Dong'er still needs to find a set of clothes for Jiang Zhou. By wearing Northern Song attire and covering his short hair with a hat, Jiang Zhuliu will not be easily mistaken for a Liao dog or a Western Xia barbarian. As long as he can communicate smoothly with others, Jiang Zhuliu believes that he will definitely find a way to make money.
Yuan Dong'er limped into the main room, picked up a small ceramic jar from the shelf, and peered inside using the light from the doorway—though she didn't really need to look, as she knew with her eyes closed that there were only two eggs inside. The family relied on the eggs saved in the ceramic jar to make money, and Yuan Dong'er must have checked it countless times in a day.
Yuan Dong'er knew that her husband had lost his memory and was worried about revealing any flaws in front of her mother-in-law. Just as she was thinking about how to change the subject, she suddenly heard Jiang Zhuliu's stomach rumbling. She immediately interjected, "Mother, my husband has been traveling for a long time and must be hungry. There is some leftover food in the kitchen; shall I take him to fill his stomach?"
Carefully cover the small jar with the lid, and then Yuan Dong'er opened a nearby large jar, scooping out a big ladle of yellow-brown substance and pouring it into the basin
Forget it, let’s just consider it a moment of reflection on past hardships. It is said that when the Red Army crossed the grasslands, they didn’t even have wild vegetable dumplings to eat. Jiang Zhuliu choked as he forced the wild vegetable dumpling down his throat. Strange as it may seem, this thing doesn’t taste very good, yet it can indeed fill the stomach a bit
Therefore, Jiang Zhuliu must leave
Yuan Dong'er cracked the eggs, pouring them into a bowl and setting it aside. She then picked up a coarse ceramic basin and approached a small jar, scooping out half a ladle of white flour and placing it into the basin, just enough to cover the bottom. After a moment of contemplation, Yuan Dong'er made a firm decision and scooped out another half ladle of white flour to add to the basin.
As he approached, Jiang Zhiliu could finally see Jiang Mu's sleeping platform. Rather than a bed, it resembled a stone slab. Constructed from a pile of broken stones, it was a stone platform over four feet wide and more than six feet long, with the gaps between the stones filled and smoothed over with yellow clay, serving as Jiang Mu's bed.
Jiang Zhuliu asked curiously from the side, "Dong'er, what is this?"
Jiang Zhuliu smiled awkwardly and said, "How could I not recognize you? I just didn't think of it for a moment."
Yuan Dong'er smiled and said: "You glutton, you still remember your mother? Don't worry, I will divide this dough into two portions; one portion will be made into pancakes for you, and the other will be rolled into noodles for mother. Mother's appetite is weak, and no matter how soft the pancakes are, they cannot compare to noodles."
Yuan Dong'er has almost finished kneading the dough here. Jiang Zhuliu, however, said: "Dong'er, add a little more water and knead the dough a bit softer. It will be easier for Mother to eat later."
Seeing the Jiang mother and son embracing and weeping, Yuan Dong'er couldn't help but sigh at the deep maternal bond between her husband and his mother. She secretly rejoiced at having found a good man. The way Jiang Zhuliu treats his mother indicates that he holds the gratitude for his parents' upbringing in his heart, and a man who understands gratitude usually possesses a kind heart. Kind-hearted men are often not unkind to their wives either.