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Yang Zhaodi extinguished the open flame in the earthen stove and covered it with a specially made lid, allowing the remaining embers to provide warmth for longer. The house was drafty on all sides, so Zhao Zheng was not worried about carbon monoxide poisoning.

Soon, Zhang Xiao’e placed a ceramic jar filled with hot water at Zhao Zheng’s feet. Only then did Yang Zhaodi blow out the candle, and both she and Zhang Xiao’e took off their outer garments and slipped under the quilt. However, the two of them occupied only a small portion of the bedding, leaving plenty of space in between. This was common in the countryside during winter, where families slept together on large shared beds to conserve warmth—without this, they might not survive the cold season.

Still, every year, some people froze to death during the harsh nights.

“How warm it is, sister-in-law!” Zhang Xiao’e, who had not only eaten the fine white steamed buns made from refined flour today but also got to sleep in a proper bed with firewood heating the room, felt as if she were dreaming.

Yang Zhaodi also felt a sense of unreality. The transformation in their father-in-law was so drastic that it seemed almost unreal.

“Father-in-law, we’re out of grain at home. Sister Yueying from the same village suggested we go work as helpers for Old Master Zhong in the township. If we go early and return early, there will be grain when we come back,” Yang Zhaodi said nervously. Their father-in-law was very old-fashioned and would never allow women to be seen in public, claiming it would disgrace the Zhao family.

Seeing no response from him, she hurriedly corrected herself, “Then I won’t go. I—I’ll return to my parents’ home tomorrow to borrow some grain…”

Zhang Xiao’e didn’t dare to speak up; she was the lowest in status at home.

In the darkness, Zhao Zheng sighed softly. “Old Master Zhong is not a good man. If you work for him, you’ll be taken advantage of. Don’t go.”

“As for borrowing grain from your parents’ home, that’s out of the question. They came here to borrow from us before, and I refused them. How can I have the face to eat Yang family’s grain?”

Before Yang Zhaodi could respond, he continued, “I’ll handle the grain issue. Zhaodi, Xiao’e, life will get better. There will be bread, and there will be milk.”

With that, he turned over and fell into a deep sleep.

“Sister-in-law, what is bread?” Zhang Xiao’e whispered in her sister-in-law’s ear. “It sounds delicious!”

“You little glutton.” Yang Zhaodi held her sister-in-law close. “Go to sleep now. We have a lot to do tomorrow.”

She sighed silently. As expected, their father-in-law still cared about appearances and would not allow them to show themselves in public. She had made up her mind: if necessary, even at the risk of being beaten, she would go back to borrow grain. With her husband gone, she must fulfill his duties and take good care of her sisters-in-law. This family must not fall apart.

...

The next morning, when Zhao Zheng woke up, his two daughters-in-law had already given him the last bit of porridge at home.

In their words, the father-in-law was the pillar of the family and should eat more.

Zhao Zheng was deeply moved. Such dutiful daughters-in-law deserved a good life in the future.

Soon, he sneaked off to sell over ten pounds of firewood stacked nearby and bought three pounds of rice from the market. Pretending to have taken the rice out of the granary, he called Yang Zhaodi in. “I was too tired to tell you last night, but I actually exchanged for some rice yesterday!”

Looking at the gleaming white rice, Zhang Xiao’e’s eyes went blank, and she said innocently, “Rice... such white rice!”

Yang Zhaodi couldn’t believe it either. “Father-in-law, rice is so expensive now!”

Their prefectural capital had been severely affected by disaster, relying almost entirely on government relief. Even so, the price of a pound of coarse rice had risen to nine wen—seven or eight times higher than usual—and demand still exceeded supply.

Zhao Zheng didn’t explain further, since rice cost only two wen per pound in the system’s market. Of course, there were special supplies priced at several hundred wen per pound.

“I know. Let’s cook all this rice into rice for meals.” He didn’t touch the dried vegetable pancakes; he couldn’t eat them.

“Father-in-law, if we make porridge, it can last us two or three days,” Yang Zhaodi said, feeling it too extravagant. For three people eating two meals a day, the rice would last two days; in this famine, if they ate only once a day, it might last three or four days.

“Listen to me—only if you’re full will you have the strength to work.” Zhao Zheng picked up his firewood knife and went to the courtyard to sharpen it. The old knife had been used for almost ten years and was nearly worn down. Once they had money, he planned to buy a sharp, good-quality knife.

Yang Zhaodi cooked the rice and sent Zhang Xiao’e to close the courtyard gate. Everyone was hungry, and if the neighbors saw the Zhao family eating fine white rice, they would surely be jealous. Moreover, the source of this rice was suspicious, and Yang Zhaodi worried that chopping firewood alone wouldn’t be enough to exchange for such good rice.

“Father-in-law, the rice is ready!” Zhang Xiao’e called out eagerly.

Closing the door and looking at the snow-white rice in the ceramic pot, Zhao Zheng nodded.

He served the two women large bowls of rice before serving himself.

“Eat,” he said, and only then did the two women dare to pick up their chopsticks.

The side dish was pickled wild plantain grass with coarse salt—a salty, slightly bitter and sour taste. Zhao Zheng forced himself to eat it; lacking salt during hard labor would leave him weak.

“Eat until you’re full. Save the rest for lunch. Don’t be stingy.”

Zhao Zheng put the firewood knife into his basket and headed outside.

Yang Zhaodi hurried to the door to see him off. “Father-in-law, don’t go too far. Yesterday afternoon, people from the township came to the village and said there are tigers near Pig’s Mouth Mountain that eat people.”

Zhao Zheng nodded. With only a few pounds of flesh on his bones, he wouldn’t satisfy a tiger’s hunger—unless he wielded the Equalizer of All Beings. Otherwise, he had no intention of hunting tigers.

Stepping outside, the sky was dark and gloomy, the cold wind howling, and it looked like it might snow. Snow would mean the drought was over, but also that the hardest days for the people were coming. In the prefectural capital, many might freeze to death.

Tightening his clothes, Zhao Zheng headed toward Golden Rooster Mountain. The place where he had chopped firewood yesterday was already cleared; all the wood was claimed by others.

Golden Rooster Mountain was remote and eerie. Near Pig’s Mouth Mountain, it was frequently prowled by man-eating beasts, so few dared to venture there.

But Zhao Zheng was near breaking point—what did he care about beasts?

If he really encountered a beast, he would make it see what a terrifying upright ape was like with his firewood knife.

After nearly two hours of walking, he reached his destination.

Just then, a yellow shadow zipped past in front of him.

What on earth was that?

“A weasel?”

Zhao Zheng sprinted after it, but the cunning creature soon vanished.

He searched through the weeds but found nothing.

Frustrated, he let out a helpless roar. At that moment, he felt something underfoot. Looking down, he was overjoyed.

There it was!

A yellow-and-white weasel was caught in a rusty trap, its leg badly injured.

Because Golden Rooster Mountain was full of wild beasts, hunters often set traps there.

Fortunately, the trap had already been sprung; otherwise, the weasel might have contracted tetanus.

He estimated it weighed around five or six pounds. After skinning, it would be enough to feed the family well.

[Notification: Caught one wild weasel!]

[Notification: 90% new ninth-phase weasel pelt, worth 120 wen. Store or sell?]

[Notification: Four pounds of weasel meat, worth 60 wen. Store or sell?]