TSWPF – Chapter 8 Hunting

Huang Pangzi glared angrily at Shopkeeper Zhou for a few seconds, then sneered, “If you doubt my medical skill, why did you still come crawling to me for a diagnosis?”

Shopkeeper Zhou raised an eyebrow and eyed Huang Pangzi slowly. “If Doctor Xu hadn’t gone out on a call and not yet returned, and if we weren’t worried about delaying the child’s condition, would it even be your turn, Huang Pangzi? Outsiders don’t know, but don’t you know it in your own heart? Compared with Doctor Xu, your medical skill isn’t off by just a little.”

If it weren’t for Doctor Xu working day and night, concocting prescriptions to control the epidemic, this county might have become a living hell.

Shopkeeper Zhou glanced at the calm-faced Liu Zhimou and sighed inwardly — such a pity that Master Liu hadn’t lived to see that time, leaving behind a few children before passing away.

Huang Pangzi hated being compared to Doctor Xu more than anything. His eyes reddened with anger and, pointing a finger, he ordered Shopkeeper Zhou to get out.

If that old fellow Xu Heng hadn’t luckily figured out those epidemic-controlling prescriptions, would you have what you have today?

Liu Zhimou couldn’t stand seeing Shopkeeper Zhou humiliated like that. He reached out and felt his sister’s forehead — her temperature had come down — and he relaxed a little. Smiling, he said to Shopkeeper Zhou, “Shopkeeper Zhou, my sister is all right now. You can leave.” He didn’t want to stay in Baicaotang for another moment.

Shopkeeper Zhou stood, dusted imaginary dust from his robe, and looked at Huang Pangzi with a grin. “Huang Pangzi, I’m not saying this to be mean, but with your way of receiving guests, the one you bring shame to isn’t just yourself — it’s your master.” Saying that, he stepped out of Baicaotang first.

The master behind Jishitang and Baicaotang had always been at odds. He didn’t mind offending Baicaotang with those words.

Huang Pangzi’s face went dark. He stared at Shopkeeper Zhou until the man disappeared from sight, snorted coldly, then slammed the inner door behind him.

One day, Jishitang will wipe out Baicaotang.

Back at Jishitang, Liu Zhimou and Liu Zhiyan kowtowed deeply to Shopkeeper Zhou and the young medicine boy to thank them for their help.

Liu Zhimou knew that if the young medicine boy hadn’t gone to find Shopkeeper Zhou, Zhou wouldn’t have known about their situation.

“Master Liu, you’re too polite — get up.” Shopkeeper Zhou helped them to their feet, then kindly said, “It’s late and your sister’s fever has just broken. Stay here and rest tonight; go back tomorrow morning.”

Liu Zhimou recognized the severity of things and thanked Shopkeeper Zhou again. Shopkeeper Zhou waved his hand and asked the medicine boy to show them to an inner room to rest, then turned and left.

Worried that Liu Zhirou might have another fever, Li Qingling and Liu Zhimou took turns watching over her. Fortunately, by the next day she had no recurrence, and both of them breathed a long, complete sigh of relief.

After saying goodbye to the medicine boy, they loaded the ox cart and headed home.

The villagers rose early to work. Seeing Liu Zhimou driving the cart with the three of them, they crowded around with curious questions about where they’d been.

Liu Zhimou answered patiently. Everyone listened, then offered some comfort before returning to their labors.

Li Qingling exhaled softly and, seeing Liu Zhirou awake, folded her in and asked quietly if she felt any discomfort.

Liu Zhirou was small and not very articulate. She burrowed into Li Qingling’s arms, her little hands around Li Qingling’s neck, whispering, “Sister…”

“Hm? Sister’s here. Does it hurt anywhere?” Li Qingling pressed her hand to the child’s forehead and felt a normal temperature — only then did she relax.

She tucked the blanket more snugly around Liu Zhirou, worried she might be cold.

The movement woke Liu Zhiyan. He opened his bleary eyes, saw Liu Zhirou awake, and happily scooted over to grab her hand.

Seeing Liu Zhimou, Liu Zhirou turned her little head and smiled, reaching for him. Liu Zhiyan quickly picked her up. “Sister, does your head still hurt?”

“Hurts?” Liu Zhirou tilted her little head to think, then shook it. “Doesn’t hurt.”

“Doesn’t hurt, good.” Liu Zhiyan relaxed; this fever had scared him. From now on he vowed to care for his sister more so she wouldn’t fall ill again.

When they reached the Liu household and the ox cart stopped, Li Qingling heard Li Qingfeng calling to Madam Zhao, “Mother, they’re back!” He ran over and stood in front of Li Qingling, looking at the child in her arms. “Is Rourou better?”

“She’s better.” Li Qingling smiled and handed Liu Zhirou to Liu Zhiyan. She took the bedding off the cart and carried it into the room.

When she came out, Madam Zhao brought over porridge that was already cooked. “You came back so early — you must be hungry. Come and eat.” She set bowls of porridge in front of everyone.

Li Qingling and the others had not returned last night; Madam Zhao had been terribly worried, afraid something had happened to Liu Zhirou. Thankfully all was well.

Liu Zhimou thanked Madam Zhao and picked up the fine rice porridge she had cooked for Liu Zhirou to feed her.

Madam Zhao reached for it. “Zhimou, you eat your own. I’ll feed Rourou — don’t let her go hungry.”

“Thank you, aunt.” Liu Zhimou did not refuse. He grabbed his bowl and ate quickly. He planned, after finishing his meal, to prepare some fodder and take it to the village head, to thank him for lending the ox cart.

When he finished, Liu Zhimou told Liu Zhiyan to take good care of Liu Zhirou. Then he went to the kitchen to grab his sickle and the woven basket and prepared to leave.

Li Qingling followed him out, took half a tael of silver from her sleeve and pressed it into his hand, asking him to buy a jin of pork from Butcher Rong in the neighboring village to send to the village head.

In this era, oxen were precious and not lent lightly, so Li Qingling hoped to cultivate good relations with the village head so borrowing would be possible again in the future.

Hearing this, Liu Zhimou nodded and tightened his grip on the silver. His family owed Li Qingling’s family so much already that this small expense didn’t matter.

He vowed silently to support his household. After they married, she wouldn’t have to struggle so hard.

Watching Liu Zhimou’s back as he carried the basket, Li Qingling’s expression dimmed briefly. She still had to find a way to earn money — without it, even illnesses were unaffordable.

Besides, Madam Zhao would give birth in roughly two months. If there’s no money, they couldn’t even hire a midwife.

Thinking that, her determination to make money only grew stronger.

After Madam Zhao finished feeding Liu Zhirou and Li Qingling returned home with her, she couldn’t help speaking up.

“Mother, I want to go to Song Mountain.” Song Mountain was farther away; she’d never been there, only heard about it from her father. It was sparsely populated and supposedly had more food. She wanted to go and take a look.

She had thought it through: besides hunting, there wasn’t much she could do without capital.

But Madam Zhao immediately shook her head in opposition. Hunting was dangerous — one wrong move and you could lose your life. How could she let her go?

Li Qingling lowered her head and picked at her nails unconsciously. “Mother, please let me go. I won’t go deep into the mountains, just the foothills. It won’t be dangerous.”

“No. I don’t agree. Give up this idea!” Madam Zhao’s tone was resolute. She had already lost the children’s father and couldn’t bear to lose her daughter too.

Li Qingling kept silent. She knew no amount of argument would change Madam Zhao’s mind, but she was determined — she wouldn’t give up without going once.

Madam Zhao seemed to realize her tone had been harsh and sighed, softening. “Xiao Ling, you and your brother are all I have left. I can’t lose another. I couldn’t live through that.”

After a moment, Li Qingling lifted her head. “I know.” But her decision remained unchanged—her family was destitute; unless she risked a try, things would never improve. “Mother, I didn’t sleep last night. I’ll go rest first.”

“Alright, go on then.”

Madam Zhao thought Li Qingling had given up on going to Song Mountain and smiled.

Li Qingling slept, then went to help Madam Zhao with fieldwork during the day, acting as if everything were normal. But at midnight she quietly got up, took the bow and arrows her father used to hunt with, then tiptoed to the kitchen. She put the woven basket, a tinderbox, and a chipped earthenware pot into the basket and slipped out.

“Xiao Ling…”

A voice startled her. Li Qingling clutched her chest and spun around, heart pounding, not daring to look at Madam Zhao standing in the doorway.

Her heart ached — she’d been so careful, yet still had been seen.

If she hadn’t needed to go to the privy, she wouldn’t have caught sight of her daughter leaving in the middle of the night. Tears welled in Madam Zhao’s eyes; her vision blurred.

After waiting a long while and hearing no further sound, Madam Zhao had to suppress her sobs and cry quietly.

Li Qingling walked by moonlight, slowly away from the village. It took her about four watches of the night before dawn to find Song Mountain.

First she foraged some edible mushrooms, washed them in the little stream at the foot of the mountain, put them into the earthenware pot with water, and cooked them.

After eating her fill, she closed her eyes and rested, then continued deeper into the mountain.

About two quarters of an hour later, she spotted a wild pheasant. Her eyes lit up — there really was food here.

She hurriedly took down her bow, carefully took aim at the pheasant, and drew the string, but her arrow flew wide and missed. Startled, the bird flapped and flew away.

Li Qingling frowned. She hadn’t shot in a long time — her feel was rusty. Also, this bow and its arrows were still too heavy and large for her. When she had money, she resolved to get a set suited to her.

She sighed softly and, to get her feel back, began shooting at the trees ahead.