Chapter 4: Moving House
When Wen Nuan woke again, dusk had already fallen. The house had been emptied, with only the wooden bed she slept on left behind. The old cabinets and table had been dismantled, leaving the wooden hut hollow and bare.
Wen Ran, seeing her awake, quickly fetched the warmed medicine from the stove.
Wen Nuan took the bowl and sipped. Just one taste and she knew what herbs had gone into the concoction. The prescription was appropriate, though not particularly effective. Still, she drank it all in one go.
"Third Sister, we can move now," Wen Ran said softly. She glanced at the woodshed they'd called home, reluctant to part from it. "We won't even have the shed anymore..."
Wen Nuan noticed her sorrow and offered a gentle promise.
"One day, I'll make sure you live in a big house. A real brick house—cool in summer, warm in winter."
Wen Ran laughed brightly. "A home as big as a house! That sounds good."
Wen Nuan smiled but said nothing. That house? The one they were going to? The house she would build herself would be better than any of them.
Just then, Wang Shi came in. "You've had your medicine? Let Granny help you dress," she said, not waiting for consent. She wrapped Wen Nuan tightly in an old, patched quilt, swaddling her like a baby, and tied her head with a cloth, only her eyes visible.
Wen Jiarui strode in, lifted her gently in his arms, and laid her on a straw mat outside. Then he dismantled her wooden bed and placed it next to her. "Nuan-jie, Ran-er, let's go. We're moving into the new house!"
"Yay!" Wen Ran cheered.
"Ma, you should get on the cart too. I'll push you," Wen Jiarui said.
"No need. I'll walk." Wang Shi waved a hand and strode forward, head held high, as though she couldn't wait to leave.
Wen Jiarui pushed the handcart toward the far end of the village.
In the shadows, Old Wang wiped her eyes. A heavy weight pressed on her heart.
Wen Nuan turned her head to look at a house built of blue bricks—solid and impressive.
That was the Wang family's dowry home, sold when the previous owner needed money for medical treatment. The Zhu family bought it—house, shop, and fields included.
How could Granny Wang not grieve?
One day, she vowed, she would build an even bigger, finer house for Granny Wang.
As they passed by, the upstairs windows of the Zhu house remained closed. Madam Zhu watched from behind them, muttering about her rotten luck.
Enough of this. No more dealings with that family, Wen Nuan thought.
The straw shed at the edge of the village was now a small bamboo house, hastily transformed by Wen Jiarui and the village boys.
Freshly chopped green bamboo made up the walls, thatched grass covered the roof, and the floor was compacted yellow soil, still fragrant with the scent of bamboo and earth.
It was simple, just one large room built on the original frame of the shed.
In the courtyard, a few men—around Wen Jiarui's age—and two boys were busy fencing the area with bamboo. The back mountain was close, and they worried about wild boars intruding at night.
"Uncle Guangrong! Uncle Quan! Uncle Fu!" Wen Ran shouted cheerfully, her voice crisp and clear.
Wen Nuan greeted them too, receiving warm smiles and praise in return. The men went back to work swiftly.
Farmers by trade, they were skilled and efficient. One chopped bamboo, another made a gate, and two more wove fencing with practiced hands.
Ran-er darted off to find something to help with.
Wen Jiarui carried Nuan into the house and laid her gently on her bed, moved from the old hut. "Rest, Nuan-jie. I'll make your bed right away."
He fetched two stools, placed them in a corner, and laid two planks across them—instant bed. He tied a bamboo pole across the stools' legs and hung a patched mosquito net. A worn-out mattress followed. The entire setup took less than half an hour.
He hugged her briefly. "Just lie down for now. Dinner will be ready soon."
Nuan nodded.
Jiarui strode out again to help with the fencing.
Night fell fully. Everyone bustled with purpose.
The Wu family borrowed some rice flour from neighbors, boiled porridge, steamed a few buns, and picked some vegetables from the garden.
Master Wen "accidentally" dropped off a slab of meat that evening, claiming he'd bought too much and couldn't finish it. He left before anyone could say a word.
Wang Shi saw through it—he was secretly supporting them. With mixed emotions of frustration and fondness, she told them to use the meat to cook for the villagers who helped build the house.
She loved and hated that man all at once.
Wang Shi gave the meat to Wu Shi, who prepared a simple but hearty meal. The men who helped were invited to eat.
During the meal, Wang Shi and Wu Shi took the children inside, while Wen Jiarui sat outside with the helpers.
Wen Nuan glanced down at her bowl, then at theirs.
Her bowl was filled with thick porridge, speckled with real meat—it smelled heavenly. The others had clear gruel, barely a hint of rice in it.
"Time to eat!" Wang Shi announced brightly.
Everyone lifted their bowls and drank the steaming gruel with satisfied smiles.
There were only three coarse, dark steamed buns. Wang Shi handed one to Wen Nuan.
"Nuan-jie, this is yours. Luo-ge and Ran-er can share one. Chun-ge and Hou-ge, another half each."
It had been so long since the family had eaten steamed buns. If not for moving day, Wang Shi wouldn't have used the precious flour.
Nuan accepted the bun but didn't eat it.
Wen Chun, the eldest boy, looked just like Wen Jiarui. He shook his head.
"Grandma, I'm not hungry. You eat it."
Wen Nuan's stomach growled. She downed her porridge in one go.
"Grandma, I'm not hungry either. You and Mama share my bun. I'm going to sleep."
What's the point of eating so much at night if you're just going to sleep?
Waste of food.
"Second Brother, wait." Nuan broke her bun in two, putting half in Wen Chun and Wen Hu's bowls. Then she spooned a scoop of meat porridge each into Wang Shi and Wu Shi's bowls.
Just as she moved to serve the others, several faces turned stiff.
Wang Shi quickly caught her hand. "Nuan-jie, what are you doing?"
Nuan responded naturally.
"Meat porridge. We all eat it."
In the original host's memories, the family hadn't had meat in half a year.
Not just meat—there hadn't even been a full meal in months.
"You need the nourishment, Nuan-jie. We don't. Grandma already ate. I'm just thirsty," Wang Shi insisted.
Wu Shi nodded. "I had a whole bowl while cooking. You eat it, Nuan-jie. Be good."
The two women even tried spooning the meat porridge back into her bowl.
Wen Chun quietly returned his half bun to the tray.
"Nuan-jie, I ate already at the Master's house. You eat."
His sister was sick—she needed the food more.
Wen Hou added his bun back, too.
"I ate so much I'm about to throw up. You eat, Nuan-jie. Once you're better, I'll take you to find bird eggs in the mountains!"
He even faked a burp.
Wen Ran and Wen Luo chimed in—they weren't hungry either.
If Third Sister didn't get better, they'd have to pay for medicine. She might even die.
It was okay if they ate less—as long as she lived.
Nuan set her bowl down. Her face was calm.
"If you don't eat, I won't eat either."
She sat there, resolute, as though they had all finished while she had not.
What happened to Nuan-jie after falling into the water?
She wasn't like this before.
No matter how they coaxed her, she wouldn't budge. In the end, they had no choice but to eat—in front of her—half a bun each, one bowl of porridge, and a single scoop of meat.
That was enough.
Only then did Wen Nuan eat the remaining half bowl of thick meat porridge.