The fragrant aroma of fried scallions and ginger, the pungent kick of fresh chilies, the rich depth of spices, the fermented bean paste, and finally the unique fragrance of perilla—all these mingled together into an irresistible, nose-tingling scent that burst out of the small kitchen and charged straight into Tian Fūlang’s nostrils.
Tian Kang’s stomach let out an audible rumble. His throat tightened as he swallowed involuntarily. He couldn’t help but stand up, craning his neck toward the kitchen with his eyes closed, sniffing deeply at this unfamiliar, captivating aroma.
The scents of spices stir-fried over high heat, the savory bean paste—he couldn’t even describe it.
It smelled incredible.
He’d been certain that Xie Yushu, living alone, would only manage to scrape by—her meals would be simple, perhaps even something he could use as leverage to convince her to marry into the Meng family.
But now, with this bold, explosive aroma filling the air, he had nothing to say.
All his earlier arguments seemed as bland and dull as his own cooking in comparison to Xie Yushu’s skill.
Seeing Tian Kang still there, chickens in hand, sitting in her yard and sneaking glances her way, Xie Yushu thought he was quite stubborn.
The village chief had given her a lot of snails—more than she could eat alone—so she scooped some into a small bowl and offered it to Tian Fūlang.
Maybe if she fed him, he’d stop pestering her about matchmaking.
He should get the hint, shouldn’t he?
Finding himself suddenly holding a bowl of incredibly fragrant snails, Tian Kang understood that this match was thoroughly dead. He’d truly met his match in Xie Yushu.
He left defeated once again—but this time with a bowl of snails, so not a total loss. And they smelled divine.
On his way home, he decided he’d return the betrothal gifts and chickens tomorrow. He couldn’t broker this match.
It was mealtime by then. His wife and daughters would be coming back from the fields soon, so he made dinner waiting for them.
His cooking was average—just enough to keep the family from starving. Today, though, he’d been outdone by a woman.
Tian Kang steamed a batch of coarse flour buns, made two boiled vegetable dishes, and pulled some pickled vegetables from a jar. He placed that bowl of snails in the center of the table.
When the family came back from work and saw the spread, their eyes lit up. After years of plain boiled vegetables, today was finally different.
It smelled incredible.
“Father, did you stir-fry snails today?”
Forgetting about everything else, they grabbed the snails with their hands. One suck of the shell and they were utterly captivated.
There weren’t many—one each, and the bowl was nearly empty. His eldest daughter complained, “Father, you made so little—how is this enough for all of us?”
His second daughter chimed in, “Father, tomorrow I’ll catch more from the river, and you can make a bigger batch! This is so good!”
Tian Kang, watching his daughters and wife eat happily, only took two himself, savoring the taste before leaving the rest for his family. “I didn’t make these—they’re from the Zhai house.”
He’d caught a glimpse of the ingredients Xie Yushu had used. Star anise and bay leaves alone were more than ordinary farming families could afford. To replicate that flavor, they’d need much more than just river snails.
Everyone knew who he meant—they knew her surname was Xie, not Zhai, but the house was the Zhai family’s, so that’s what they called it.
They were surprised. A woman—and she cooked better than any man.
They stopped talking and quietly devoured their coarse buns with the spicy, addictive snails. They were drenched in sweat from the heat but couldn’t stop.
The snails were gone quickly, and they didn’t waste a drop of the sauce either, soaking their buns in the leftover liquid until the bowl was wiped clean.
Tian Kang laughed and scolded them for acting like they’d never had a full meal.
Back in her kitchen, Xie Yushu slowly savored her snails, occasionally glancing out to see when Su Chi would return.
As soon as he appeared in her line of sight, she scooped out half her snails—sauce and all—and brought them over.
He’d just arrived home from closing his stall when Xie Yushu walked right in with the bowl, not waiting at the gate this time.
As if presenting a trophy, she handed him the snails: “Here, I made these. They’re good—try some.”
After the back-and-forth exchanges they’d had, Su Chi no longer hesitated or felt awkward. He accepted the bowl with a faint smile that was barely perceptible: “Alright.”
He could handle spice, and he enjoyed the snails thoroughly. After eating the meat, he poured the leftover sauce over his rice—the glossy, red, rich liquid coated each grain, and before long, he’d finished every last bite.
—
Xie Yushu had arranged to meet He Chao today. She headed to the ferry to find him.
When she arrived at He Chao’s usual spot, she looked around but didn’t see him—only a girl around ten years old minding the stall.
She was paler than He Chao, with some resemblance in their features.
Xie Yushu approached and asked where He Chao had gone.
The girl’s eyes lit up at the sight of her: “I’m He Xi—He Chao is my brother. He got sick last night, so I’m tending the stall for him today. He told me to take you to Aunt Hong San when you came.”
She’d been getting anxious, hoping the customer would arrive soon so she could go back and take care of her brother.
Her brother had described her as a very good-looking woman—tall, dressed nicely, not like the usual farming folk, more like a young lady from the county.
He Xi sized up the person before her—everything matched her brother’s description. It had to be her.
Xie Yushu crouched down to meet the little girl’s eyes and asked, “What happened to your brother?”
“Last evening, we went to the tidal flats to catch crabs and shrimp. But my brother didn’t do it right—here,” He Xi showed Xie Yushu the fleshy part of her palm near the base of her thumb, “a shrimp head pierced him right here. Now he’s been sleeping all the time.”
“Sleeping?” Xie Yushu asked, not quite sure.
He Xi nodded. “And his face is really hot.”
At that, He Xi’s expression turned sad and guilty. She didn’t know why her brother had been asleep since last night without waking, and his head was so warm.
It wasn’t her brother who’d wanted to go to the tidal flats last night—it was her.
Last time, her brother had come home with a big, fragrant meat bun and had given it all to their father and her.
He Xi didn’t want her brother to give away all the good food to her and their father. She thought she’d go to the tidal flats at night to see if there were any shrimp or crabs the villagers had missed during the day—to catch some for him, so he could nourish himself.
But He Chao, finishing his chores and finding her gone, had rushed to look for her. He didn’t scold her—he just stayed and caught with her.
In a crevice between two rocks, they spotted a wandering green crab. He Xi was overjoyed. Hearing her excitement, He Chao told her to stay put and went to catch it himself.
Just then, a startled shrimp leaped out of nowhere and jabbed He Chao’s hand with its sharp head.
At the time, He Chao hadn’t thought much of it—a shrimp’s pointy head wasn’t a big deal. Every fisher’s hands were covered in scars and wounds.
But that night, He Chao developed a low fever and felt dizzy all over. Even so, he hadn’t forgotten his arrangement with Xie Yushu and told He Xi to wait at the ferry stall early the next morning and take her to Aunt Hong San.
He Xi had agreed, come early, and finally met the person her brother had talked about.
Xie Yushu stood up, her mind racing. Sleeping with a fever meant infection—likely a fever from the wound. She quickly told He Xi to take her to see He Chao.
This woman was really kind—putting her own business aside to check on her brother. He Xi looked up with gratitude: “Miss, follow me.”
They hurried all the way to Qianwan Village and arrived at the He house, where He Xi’s father was drying fish.
He pulled his daughter aside: “Xiao Xi, who’s this?”
“Father, this is Miss Xie—the one my brother mentioned. She’s here to see him.”
“Oh, right—good, go on in.”
He Chao had come home that day saying he’d met a good customer who’d bought a bucket of fish and paid extra—a very kind person. So He’s father had heard about her and had a general impression.
He Chao hadn’t told his father about the shrimp jab last night, so the old man was still out of the loop.
When He Chao didn’t get up this morning, he assumed it was just exhaustion from fishing. Though it was unusual, he figured his son needed the rest. When his daughter offered to tend the stall, he agreed—not expecting her to return so soon with a young woman.
He Xi led Xie Yushu to He Chao’s bedside. He lay on a small, worn bed, eyes closed, his face flushed with fever.
Xie Yushu carefully turned over the hand that had been pierced. The spot was swollen now—a deep red puncture wound on the fleshy part of the palm, with a whitish fluid threatening to seep out, showing signs of infection.
Coupled with the high fever, this was a classic symptom of a viral infection.
“Oh no,” Xie Yushu murmured.
He Xi, with sharp ears, caught it and asked anxiously, “Is it serious?”
Xie Yushu didn’t answer directly. Instead, she asked, “He Xi, do you know the way to Songwan Town?”
He Xi’s eyes were determined: “Yes!”
She’d pestered her brother to take her a few times before. Though she was young, she had a good memory—she remembered the way after just one visit.
“Go to the largest inn in town and find a healer named Sun Wuyou. Tell her a friend surnamed Xie has an urgent matter and needs her to bring her medicine box.”
Afraid that ten-year-old He Xi might forget two names, Xie Yushu simplified her own reference.
She couldn’t leave now—she needed to monitor He Chao’s condition. He Xi was small, but children her age often ran errands for their families around town. Xie Yushu felt the environment was safe enough.
He Xi listened carefully, not wanting to miss a word. After hearing her out, she nodded and dashed off.
She didn’t explain much to her father—just said her brother was sick and she was going to find a doctor.
He’s father’s face fell with panic—only now realizing his son was ill. He put down his work and came to check on him.
Xie Yushu asked for clean cloth strips and tightly bound He Chao’s wrist to prevent the infection from spreading further.
She knew some basic first aid for external wounds, but only that much. Anything more complex was beyond her—especially without the modern medicines she’d need.
Shrimp heads carried various pathogens, and He Chao had been unlucky enough to be jabbed deeply. Xie Yushu examined the wound—it was fairly deep. He’d been hit.
Now, all they could do was wait for little He Xi to find Sun Wuyou in town.
Sun Wuyou, though cheerful and seemingly carefree, came from a family of physicians. She had to know some medicine.
Xie Yushu remembered that Guizhi always carried a medicine box—it looked different from the ones she’d seen in her previous life, but it was clearly a medical kit.
Watching his daughter rush off in a flurry, He’s father now understood the severity of his son’s condition. He didn’t even mind that a strange woman was in his son’s room.
Seeing his worried face, Xie Yushu tried to comfort him, saying that if He Chao received timely treatment, he’d be fine.
Since the wound was from last night, it was still early.
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