Jiang Chun stopped the mule cart in front of the carpenter’s shop.
Because it was at the intersection, and there were passersby coming and going, she couldn’t directly carry Song Shi’an down, so she could only extend her hand to help him down.
The two entered the shop, spent some time picking wood, and then confirmed the style and dimensions with the shop’s owner, Carpenter Fang.
Jiang Chun thought that this mule cart, counting it to the fullest, would only be used for two years, so she picked wood and style that were average—not good nor bad—and spent a total of four taels of silver.
The deposit was half a string of cash, but they needed to wait about half a month before it could be picked up.
This also couldn’t be helped. After all, in a small place like Hongye Town, there simply weren’t many households that could afford to buy a mule.
If the villagers had money in their pockets, they would rather buy an ox than a mule. After all, oxen could plow fields.
Therefore, Carpenter Fang couldn’t possibly make too many finished mule carts and just leave them sitting there.
Coming out of the carpenter shop, Jiang Chun said to Carpenter Fang, who had come out to see them off: “Uncle Fang, I’ll leave the mule cart at your shop entrance for now, trouble you to help look after it a bit. My husband and I are going to stroll around and will be back shortly.”
Carpenter Fang laughed and said: “Leaving it here is fine. Our town is very safe, not so much petty theft and such.”
Even if there were petty thieves, no one would have the guts to steal her—this sea-patrolling yaksha’s—mule cart. Wasn’t that just courting death?
“Many thanks, Uncle Fang.” Jiang Chun gave her thanks, then turned to grab hold of Song Shi’an’s hand and pulled him forward.
Song Shi’an lowered his head to look at their clasped hands, pressed his lips together.
After walking a dozen or so steps, he finally struggled his wrist a bit and said in a lowered voice: “Let go of my hand. Pulling and tugging in the middle of the street, what kind of proper appearance is this?”
Jiang Chun used her finger to scratch his palm, grinning: “What are you afraid of? Who in all of Hongye Town doesn’t know that my husband’s body is weak? Me holding the hand of my delicate and weak husband to go shopping—others won’t gossip, they’ll only praise me for being considerate.”
Song Shi’an: “…”
Won’t gossip? More like don’t dare to gossip!
Jiang Chun saw that he didn’t speak, turned her head to look at him, smiled and said: “Or, husband, do you wish me to support your arm instead? That’s fine too.”
Song Shi’an immediately said: “No need.”
Handholding or arm-supporting—he’d still choose handholding.
Choosing the lesser of two evils: at least handholding wasn’t so conspicuous, and the two didn’t have to stand so close.
If she were to stick close and support him, who knew if she’d try to pull some trick?
He thought it through quite well, but he still underestimated Jiang Chun’s influence in Hongye Town.
The two of them, hand in hand, appeared on the street—those running shops, setting up stalls, buying things, hurried passersby and wandering idlers alike, all turned their gazes over.
Of course, to avoid angering Jiang Chun, they all peeked sneakily like thieves.
Song Shi’an, with his sharp senses, immediately noticed, and his face couldn’t help but redden. Just as he was about to pull his hand away, he was dragged by her into a roadside shop.
It was a shop that combined fabric store and ready-made clothing, and also sold shoes, hats, socks, handkerchiefs, pouches, sweat towels, and other small items.
After entering, Jiang Chun let go of his hand, finally allowing him to let out a sigh of relief.
Originally, he thought she was going to buy something for herself, so he didn’t follow her further in, and instead sat down on a chair placed by the door.
However, just as he had sat down, he saw Jiang Chun walking toward him. She squatted down in front of him in one go, then lifted his foot with her hand and began using her fingers to measure the size of the shoe on his foot.
Was she going to buy shoes for him?
He hurriedly declined: “Father previously bought me two pairs of shoes, that’s enough, no need to buy more.”
Jiang Chun lifted her head and gave him a sideways glance: “What Father bought you were dan xie [single-layer shoes]. It’s about to be winter now. Could it be that you plan to wear single shoes through the winter?”
Shopkeeper Madam Feng walked over and, hearing this, laughed: “Langjun [respectful term for a young gentleman or husband] perhaps doesn’t know—here, during winter, water droplets freeze into ice. Don’t even mention single shoes, even if cotton shoes are a bit thin, your feet will get frostbites, itchy enough to drive someone crazy.”
Song Shi’an went silent.
Jiang Chun finished measuring the size, walked over to where the shoes were placed, found a pair of cotton shoes roughly the same size, and came back.
The original host did know how to make shoes, but making shoes in ancient times was too much trouble.
First, you had to paste the soles with a layer of glue and a layer of cloth, gluing layer after layer. After pasting the soles, you then had to stitch the soles.
In order for the shoes to be durable and not hurt the feet when walking, the soles had to be thick enough, and the stitches had to be dense enough.
Commonly called “thousand-layer soles.”
The degree to which it ruins your hands was no less than going into the fields with a sickle to harvest wheat.
After finishing stitching the soles, you had to boil another pot of glue and once again paste a layer of glue and a layer of cloth to make the guzi [骨子 – the inner lining structure between the shoe surface and the inner layer].
This part was relatively easier—it didn’t need to be as thick as the thousand-layer sole and didn’t require stitching.
After gluing the guzi, you would cut the upper, inner lining, and guzi according to the shoe template to form the shoe upper.
Finally, you would sew the upper onto the thousand-layer sole using hemp thread.
These were the steps for making dan xie (unlined shoes); if it were mian xie (棉鞋 – cotton-padded shoes), you’d replace the inner guzi with cotton; the rest stayed the same.
Her household had three people, each needing two pairs of cotton shoes to alternate between—that made six pairs.
Just thinking about it made Jiang Chun’s head ache. Not only was it hard on the hands, it was also time-consuming. She hadn’t even finished making Song Shi’an’s cotton-padded clothes and quilt yet—where would she find time to make shoes?
She decisively chose to buy ready-made ones.
This was because she had a craft that could earn money, and the household silver was plentiful—only then could she be so carefree.
The other women of Daliushu Village, during the day they went to the fields to do farm work, after that they came home to prepare food, and at night they had to light oil lamps to make shoes.
In households with many people, ten or twenty mouths to feed, the making of shoes all depended on one or two women in the family. One person had to make about ten pairs.
Oftentimes, one round of shoes wasn’t even finished before the first few pairs were already worn out…
It was simply terrifying!
She squatted down again in front of Song Shi’an, placed the new shoes on her own leg, then reached out intending to take off the shoes on Song Shi’an’s feet.
Song Shi’an hurriedly pulled his foot back and said, “No need, I can do it myself.”
Since there was an outsider present, she didn’t insist and just smiled: “Alright, then husband can take them off himself.”
The corner of Song Shi’an’s mouth twitched.
Why did those words sound… a little off?
He lowered his head to glance at her, and saw her looking at him with a smile on her face—not looking like she was about to cause any funny business.
Could it be… he was overthinking?
He let go of his doubts, bent one leg, and took the shoe off his foot.
Just as he was about to reach out to ask Jiang Chun for the new shoes, she had already grabbed one shoe in one hand, and with the other hand swiftly grabbed his foot.
Song Shi’an was greatly shocked: “You…”
Although he washed his feet every night, and his socks were newly changed before going out today, they had walked a bit of road just now—after all, it wasn’t exactly clean…
However, before he could start struggling, in the next instant, the new cotton shoe had already been slipped onto his foot.
Jiang Chun placed Song Shi’an’s foot on the ground, carefully pressed the toe of the shoe with her finger, then said in satisfaction: “Not bad, not too big or small, fits just right.”
Madam Feng immediately jumped in with her stick to beat the snake [idiom: to go along with someone’s words, usually to flatter or take advantage of the situation]: “This pair of shoes was made by Lady Zhuang of our town—who in a ten-mile, eight-village radius doesn’t know of her craftsmanship? She’s an honest person too. The cotton is stuffed thick, and it’s all new cotton from this year. Miss Jiang, rest assured to buy—guaranteed your husband will wear them comfortably.”
Jiang Chun wasn’t in a rush to haggle either. She stood up and asked Madam Feng: “Does Madam have any cotton boots here?”
Song Shi’an’s body was weak, and winter was hard to get through. Ordinary cotton shoes left the ankles exposed—convenient for walking, but not as warm as high-topped cotton boots.
If there were cotton boots, then she’d buy him a pair as well—on usual days wear the cotton shoes, and on very cold days wear the boots.
Madam Feng’s smile became even warmer: “What a coincidence, just yesterday Lady Zhuang sent over three pairs of cotton boots. Their sizes are roughly about the same as the pair on your husband’s feet—they should probably fit.”
In fact, those boots had already been delivered over half a month ago, but most people in town wore shoes made by the women in their families. Those willing to buy shoes outside were already few, and those willing to buy cotton boots—which cost double the cotton shoes—even fewer.
After saying this, Madam Feng briskly walked to the shoe display counter and carried all three pairs at once in front of Song Shi’an.
Jiang Chun reached out and measured them, selected one of the pairs, asked Madam Feng to help hold it, and then squatted down again to reach for the new cotton shoes on Song Shi’an’s feet.
Song Shi’an originally wanted to refuse, but Madam Feng was right beside them, her eyes brightly watching the two of them—he couldn’t embarrass Jiang Chun, so he could only let her help him take off the new cotton shoes and then help him put on the new cotton boots.
Jiang Chun, as before, pressed the toe of the boot with her finger and said to Song Shi’an: “Size fits perfectly. If someone didn’t know, they’d think I specially asked Lady Zhuang to custom-make these for you.”
Madam Feng instantly praised flamboyantly: “It’s all because Langjun’s feet are well-shaped. If they were especially wide or unusually small, it’d be hard to find a fitting size in our shop.”
These words were right up Jiang Chun’s alley. She immediately echoed: “That’s right. My husband’s feet are indeed well-formed—the best in the world!”
Song Shi’an: “…”
He closed his eyes. This was just… too exaggerated, too embarrassing!
If not for the fact that he was still wearing the shop’s new cotton boots on his feet, he would’ve wanted to get up and walk right out.
His face really couldn’t handle this.
Jiang Chun helped Song Shi’an put his old shoes back on, then handed both the cotton shoes and cotton boots to Madam Feng, saying: “We’ll take both pairs.”
Madam Feng had just been about to calculate the bill when she saw Jiang Chun heading straight to the shoe display counter again. She immediately felt delighted in her heart—was she going to buy more shoes?
Jiang Chun rummaged through a pile of cotton shoes, occasionally using her hand to measure the soles’ size. In the end, she picked out two pairs of cotton shoes with deep black uppers.
These two pairs were picked for Jiang He. The original host had made plenty of shoes for him, so she remembered his size.
Madam Feng immediately called out: “Aiyoyo, my dear lady, a single pair of cotton boots uses up more cotton than two pairs of cotton shoes, and they’re much more troublesome to make! Lady Zhuang’s asking price is already high—selling it to you for one hundred wen, I’m hardly earning a few coins, just treating it as doing you a personal favor!”
Jiang Chun let out a snort-laugh. A merchant’s mouth—spouting ghost stories to scare people. [idiom: merchants will say anything to bluff or manipulate.]
Who would do a business that doesn’t make money?
She had just been about to continue bargaining when Song Shi’an suddenly spoke: “Wait a moment.”
Jiang Chun lifted her eyes to look at him, puzzled: “What is it?”
This guy—don’t tell her he thought she wasn’t good at bargaining and wanted to step in to help?
Why did she have such little confidence in him?
A young master from a prestigious household like him, who even had a servant carry his money pouch for him—would he understand how to haggle?
Yet Song Shi’an’s next words caught her completely off guard: “You’re only buying shoes for Father and me, not for yourself?”
The corners of Jiang Chun’s mouth lifted unconsciously. Even she had forgotten about buying herself cotton shoes, but he was thinking about her.
This made her heart feel warm.
Clearly, she hadn’t treated him well for nothing.
Jiang Chun joked: “Of course I need to buy too, but if Husband doesn’t speak up, how would I dare to make a decision on my own?”
Before Song Shi’an could respond, Madam Feng on the side already let out a “puchi” and laughed aloud.
Then quickly covered her mouth.
The corner of Song Shi’an’s mouth twitched. With a straight face, he said, “You also pick two pairs for yourself.”
Jiang Chun immediately grinned and said: “Since Husband has spoken, then I absolutely must buy.”
To make up for the awkwardness of laughing out loud, Madam Feng proactively led the way: “Lady, come with me.”
Jiang Chun picked out two pairs of cotton shoes in an earthy brown color. After all, she went back and forth to town daily to set up her stall—light colors would get dirty too easily.
Song Shi’an gave a sideways glance at the two pairs in her hand—those drab brown old-fashioned cotton shoes that even grandmothers like his wouldn’t deign to wear—and his brows furrowed into the shape of the character 川.
But in the end, he didn’t say anything.
She was running around and busy all day, with tons of tasks to do—indeed, this kind of color was more stain-resistant.
After thinking it over, he once again took the initiative to ask Madam Feng: “May I ask if your shop sells deerskin boots?”
Madam Feng gave an embarrassed laugh: “Something as precious as deerskin boots—how could our little shop possibly have that? Even if we did, no one in town could afford to buy it.”
Song Shi’an fell silent for a moment, then showed a look of regret and said: “The other day I heard someone say that deerskin boots can guard against rain and snow. I was hoping to see something rare at Madam’s place, but it turns out there isn’t any.”
He had originally thought that if there were deerskin boots, he could persuade Jiang Chun to buy a pair for herself. That way, after snow fell in the winter, when she went back and forth to town, her shoes wouldn’t get soaked by the snow and slush.
In the capital city, deerskin boots weren’t rare—almost every ready-made clothing shop sold them. He thought they couldn’t be all that expensive.
But unexpectedly, in this place called Hongye Town, deerskin boots had become rare and precious luxury items.
Since that was the case, he had to smooth things over a bit, so as not to cause trouble for Jiang Chun.
Jiang Chun heard the implication in his words and played along, scolding lightly: “You, ah—don’t be curious about things you shouldn’t be curious about. Don’t even mention Madam Feng not having deerskin boots—even if there were, with our family’s circumstances, we wouldn’t be able to afford them anyway!”
Madam Feng nodded in agreement.
Originally, the Jiang family’s conditions weren’t bad. Father and daughter slaughtered one pig every single day, rain or shine—over the course of a year, they could earn a few dozen taels of silver.
It was just that Jiang the Butcher had no eye for people—he actually brought home a sickly young man as a live-in son-in-law for his daughter.
Who in all of Hongye Town didn’t know that his monthly medicine expenses alone cost three taels of silver?
The money that Jiang father and daughter earned—all of it was poured into this bottomless pit. Of course they had become truly poor!
Otherwise, don’t say deerskin boots—even tiger-skin boots, they might not be unable to afford to wear them.