Thanks to the original host’s memory, Jiang Chun had proficiently mastered the technique of pig slaughtering, so slaughtering a goose was no big deal.
After the slaughter, she also boiled a pot of hot water to pluck the feathers, and conveniently cleaned out the internal organs.
Then chopped it into pieces, and put it in the pot to stew.
It was a pity there was no cornmeal, otherwise, if she could bake a few corn flatcakes by the side of the pot, gnawing goose meat while eating corn flatcakes, now that would be satisfying!
But it didn’t matter. The female lead in the original work, Zhong Wenjin, had a Pinduoduo system, and after the system upgraded, she would be able to purchase corn seeds from the Pinduoduo platform.
Once she followed Song Shi’an to the capital, as the female lead’s eldest sister-in-law, how could she possibly lack cornmeal?
Not just cornmeal—other high-yield crops, daily-use products, even toilet paper and sanitary napkins—so long as she got along well with Zhong Wenjin, she could ride along and get them all.
Just thinking that she could rely on her husband Song Shi’an to become a First-Rank Bestowed-Titled Lady, and rely on her sister-in-law Zhong Wenjin to live a modern life in ancient times, made her so happy her cheeks nearly split open to her ears.
So now a bit of hardship didn’t count for much—it’s bitterness first, sweetness later.
Thus, she diligently tended the fire while peeling a few green onions, washed and finely chopped them, put them into a bowl, then cracked two eggs in, added salt, and stirred well.
Then she set up a small double-handled iron wok, and used fragrant oil to make a scallion fried egg for Song Shi’an.
Strictly speaking, vegetarians shouldn’t even eat eggs, but since Song Shi’an had become a registered disciple at a very young age while still growing, he didn’t avoid eggs.
The fragrant oil used for the scallion fried egg was actually made by taking sesame seeds grown on their own land to the oil mill in the county seat to be pressed. But since sesame has a low oil yield, there wasn’t much at all.
The original host usually only added a single drop when making soup dishes, and that too quite stingily.
Jiang Chun actually used it for stir-frying—luckily no village women saw it, or who knows how they would scold her for being wasteful.
No helping it—Song Shi’an was vegetarian, and his dog nose was particularly sharp. From far away he could tell if the dish used meat oil or plant oil.
But it was just this once—tomorrow she’d go to the county to retrieve the pressed soybean oil, and from then on she could use soybean oil to stir-fry for him.
Once the food was on the table, Jiang Chun called Jiang He and Song Shi’an over to eat.
She pushed the scallion fried egg toward Song Shi’an and took credit: “The soybean oil’s not pressed yet, so I stir-fried this dish for you with fragrant oil.”
“Hiss—” Jiang He sucked in a cold breath with heartache, but glanced sideways at his son-in-law’s face, whiter than the lime on the wall, and in the end didn’t say anything.
Only after Jiang He moved his chopsticks and picked a piece of goose meat did Song Shi’an lift his hand, pick up his chopsticks, and send a small piece of scallion fried egg into his mouth.
His brows instantly furrowed unconsciously.
He raised his eyes and gave a glance to Jiang Chun, who was currently happily gnawing a goose foot—just how much fragrant oil had she dumped in there? The aroma was so strong it nearly drowned out the egg flavor.
But things were no longer as they were in the past—he no longer had the right to be picky.
After biting into a white steamed bun, he picked up another bite and sent it into his mouth.
This was the first time since coming to the Jiang household that he had eaten a proper dish.
That previous Jiang Chun had always used meat oil to stir-fry and didn’t care at all whether he could eat it or not.
Now, being able to eat this not-very-delicious scallion fried egg was all thanks to this current Jiang Chun.
Whether the two Jiang Chuns were the same person, or how they were connected, he still hadn’t figured out.
But it didn’t matter. There were still two years left until the Song family’s redress and her return to the capital—more than enough time for him to investigate everything clearly.
Whether it was the original host or Jiang Chun, their cooking skills were just average. But the ingredients were excellent—a big goose raised purely on grain, and it was stewed using a traditional wood-fired earthen stove—the flavor was so good she almost swallowed her own tongue.
A large pot of goose meat: Jiang He ate forty percent, the remaining sixty percent all went into Jiang Chun’s stomach, plus five black-faced steamed buns the size of a rice bowl.
Even so, Jiang He was still surprised: “Chun-niang ate a bit less today.”
Song Shi’an: “……”
This is called “less”?
She ate in one sitting what those noble daughters in the capital eat in three days, and still had some left over.
Even if Jiang He doted on his daughter, surely he couldn’t tell such a blatant lie with eyes wide open?
Really didn’t know what to say to him.
—
After finishing dinner, Jiang Chun washed the pots and bowls, then brought out a small clay pot to decoct medicine for Song Shi’an.
The house had become completely dark. Song Shi’an wanted to light a lamp and copy books, so he came out to ask Jiang Chun for a candle.
Jiang Chun slanted her eyes at him: “A candle? Do you take our family to be some wealthy household?”
She carried out an oil lamp from the corner, lit it, and handed it to him, saying, “Here, only an oil lamp. You can use it to do other things, but don’t write.”
Saying this, her gaze fell on his long and narrow phoenix eyes [凤眼 – fèngyǎn, a poetic Chinese term for beautifully shaped, long, and slightly upturned eyes], and she said with a grin: “Husband’s eyes are so good-looking. If they get ruined by the oil lamp’s smoke, wouldn’t that be a waste of heavenly treasure?”
Song Shi’an’s emotions didn’t stir because of her slightly teasing words. Instead, he silently repeated in his mind the five words: “To violently waste heavenly things.”
Jiang Chun, who couldn’t even recognize a single big character, not only could recite lines from the Analects, but could also speak in complete idiomatic phrases, and used idioms incredibly smoothly.
It could not be called anything but strange.
Although he couldn’t figure it out no matter how much he thought, he didn’t show anything on the surface. He simply reached out and accepted the oil lamp.
A strong smell of medicine wafted into his nose. He looked toward the firelight and saw a blackened clay pot on a simple stove made of three green bricks. The pot was bubbling with boiling medicine.
This medicine was clearly being decocted for him.
He lowered his gaze and softly said: “Many thanks for your trouble.”
Jiang Chun’s face immediately bloomed with a smile: “Husband is truly considerate. With husband saying this, my back is no longer sore, my legs no longer ache—I can even decoct medicine for husband for another hundred years!”
Decoct medicine for a hundred years?
Wasn’t this cursing him to be bedridden forever?
Song Shi’an gave her a sideways glare, then turned and carried the oil lamp back to the west room.
Jiang Chun slapped her own head—look what nonsense she had just said!
In her regret, she carried the finished medicinal decoction into the west room, placed it on the kang table, and awkwardly smiled while reminding, “Husband, be careful, it’s hot.”
Song Shi’an didn’t seem to be angry at her. He nodded after hearing this.
Jiang Chun let out a sigh of relief, returned to the kitchen, added a large pot of water, and sat in front of the stove to start stoking the fire.
Conditions in the countryside were limited, it was impossible to bathe every day like in modern times, but the necessary hygiene couldn’t be neglected either.
Every night she would boil a big pot of hot water, letting Jiang He and Song Shi’an both soak their feet.
As for herself, besides soaking her feet, she also had to wash her butt.
For this, she even went specially to the town’s general store to buy four wooden basins—one for Jiang He, one for Song Shi’an, and the remaining two for herself.
Which caused Jiang He to blow up in anger, saying she was wasteful. Other families used one wooden basin until it fell apart. Their family, how great—they already had one basin each for father and daughter, and now she went and bought four more.
What kind of household was this—three people using six wooden basins!
Jiang Chun had a thick skin, being scolded didn’t matter to her—it went in one ear and out the other.
Anyhow, the basins had already been bought, was he going to send them back to the store? That would be too embarrassing!
Jiang He simply had no way to deal with her.
She finished boiling the water, first mixed a basin properly for her father and carried it into the east room, then brought another basin for Song Shi’an.
She placed the wooden basin in front of the kang, and saw that the medicine bowl on the kang table was already empty, so she reached out to take it.
Just as she was about to step out, she halted her steps.
The child who cries gets the milk [会哭的孩子有奶吃 – idiom meaning those who voice their suffering get attention/help], she felt that she hadn’t “cried” enough.
So she stretched her hand to her lower back, while pounding on it she sighed and moaned: “Since coming back from town, I’ve been steaming buns, making dinner, decocting medicine, and boiling foot-washing water—truly not a single moment to rest. The maidservants of great households don’t even have it this hard. After all, their maids all have their own roles. Not like me, doing everything all by myself. And those maidservants even get monthly wages, while I not only don’t get paid, but even have to fork out several taels of silver every month.”
What she said wasn’t wrong.
Song Shi’an wasn’t blind—everything she had done, he had actually seen it all.
If it were in his past life, to be taken care of with such meticulous attention by a woman after falling into hardship, he would surely have been very moved and vowed to treat her well for a lifetime.
Unfortunately…
To the current him, all of this she did was with an agenda. She was deliberately trying every possible way to curry favor with him so that he would take her back to the capital.
So he didn’t feel moved.
But on the surface, he still had to act a bit.
After all, at this point in time, he shouldn’t harbor resentment toward her. Facing a wife-lord who was caring for him in every possible way, he especially shouldn’t be too cold.
Otherwise, he might arouse the suspicion of her possibly having been reborn.
He forced a faint smile onto his lips, and said gently: “Wife has worked hard. It’s all my fault for being useless and dragging you down like this.”
Under the dim yellow light, his phoenix eyes drooped slightly, his nose bridge tall and straight, his face as fair and smooth as a peeled egg, with a shallow smile at the corners of his lips, like a spring breeze rippling a pond of spring water.
Jiang Chun’s little heart gave a hard tremble.
Just because of that one smile, she cheerfully scrubbed his medicine bowl clean, and when he was struggling to carry his foot-washing water over the threshold, she even rushed over to snatch it from him and pour it out herself.
Male beauty brings down kingdoms, oh, male beauty brings down kingdoms!
At night, as she lay in bed under the covers, she gritted her teeth and swore: one day, she’d definitely make him repay this!
Make him wash her feet! A hundred times!
The dignified Grand Secretary of the Inner Cabinet washing my feet—that feeling must be quite amazing, right?