Chapter 12: Arriving at the He Family Residence

After Sun Chunlan and the servants of the He family left, she curiously surveyed the courtyard—blue bricks and large tiles, with a stone slab path laid out.

Sun Bomin’s eyes sparkled with wonder as he remarked, “Big sister, the paths here are all paved with stone slabs, and look—they even use thick cotton quilts!”

He gently stroked the soft quilt, still eight-tenths new, feeling its comfort. In Sunjia Village, they could only afford quilts stuffed with straw.

Sun Chunlan turned to her younger brother and said, “Tonight, you’ll share a room with me. Lay down one of our own quilts on the floor, and cover it with one from the He family.”

Though it was improper for men and women to share rooms, when away from home in an unfamiliar place, they must not sleep apart. If danger came, they could escape quickly together.

Sun Bomin nodded seriously. “Got it, big sister. I’ll bring the oranges inside.”

They had just entered the courtyard, leaving the citrus in the open courtyard; it was safer indoors.

Sun Chunlan went to the next room to retrieve quilts and spread out two more of their own reed-stuffed quilts.

She took her brother to the inner courtyard. This compound was truly vast, at least three courtyards deep. Their room was in the second courtyard. Just outside the door, a row of rooms faced them. Occasionally, passersby glanced curiously at the siblings.

They dared not speak much and followed the corridor back to the first courtyard’s courtyard area. The cart was too large to bring inside. Sun Bomin lifted the carrying pole and carried the citrus into their room.

Once the oranges were all stored, they unloaded the cart and brought it inside as well.

The cart was quite valuable—a hundred coins, made while their father was alive.

Everything settled, dusk began to fall. The siblings’ stomachs grumbled. Carrying a water pouch, they thought of heating water in the kitchen to drink, eating their own dried sweet potatoes.

As they stepped out the gate again, they saw a familiar face—the servant Laifu, who served He Erlang.

Seeing the siblings still there, he hurriedly called out, “Sun family siblings, come eat quickly! If you’re late, there won’t be any food left.”

His movements were slow and unhurried. Missing dinner and going hungry would be hard to bear.

Sun Bomin, earnest and honest, replied, “Brother Laifu, no need. We brought our own food and just want to heat some water.”

Laifu was about the same age as Sun Bomin but called him “brother” just to be polite.

It felt wrong to eat others’ food after being given shelter. One must know when to advance and withdraw.

Laifu lived in the He family’s big courtyard. He had just taken some leftover meat from the young master to give to his parents.

The two siblings were arranged to live opposite the family, a special favor.

Curious about the bundle in Sun Bomin’s hand, he asked, “What are you eating?” It was wrapped tightly—could it be something good?

Sun Bomin unfolded the lotus leaf to reveal dried sweet potatoes and smiled shyly. “Dried sweet potatoes, homemade. Brother Laifu, want some?”

Laifu thought it was something special, but dried sweet potatoes were common snacks, not a proper meal.

He waved off the offer. “No thanks, you keep it.”

Then he said to Sun Chunlan, “Young miss, young master, come with me quickly. Let’s get you some proper food. Dried sweet potatoes can’t replace a meal.”

Without waiting for an answer, he pulled Sun Bomin along, proudly saying, “Don’t worry, the He family is wealthy—they won’t mind you two.”

They wound through the corridors to the kitchen, which was empty. Everyone had already eaten and returned to their rooms.

Laifu told the cook, “These two belong to the second young master. Hurry and prepare a bowl of rice; they’re hungry.” The cook smiled, knowing Laifu was the young master’s personal servant, and said she’d prepare it soon.

Sun Chunlan and Sun Bomin, half dazed, followed Laifu to the kitchen. The He family’s kitchen was even larger than their own main room, packed with all kinds of cooking utensils—truly impressive.

This family was rich enough to employ many servants, who even had blue brick and tile houses to live in.

When the cook brought two large bowls of rice, topped with several pieces of braised pork with preserved mustard greens, they were even more amazed. Even the servants enjoyed fine white rice and meat.

This was far better fare than in Sunjia Village.

The siblings accepted the food, thanked them politely, asked for some hot water, and followed Laifu away.

Laifu instructed, “When you finish eating, return the bowls to the kitchen.”

He also pointed to a small building nearby. “That’s the latrine. Feel free to use it.”

Feeling he had explained everything, he was about to return to serve the young master.

Sun Chunlan quickly said, “Brother Laifu, wait a moment.”

She hurried into the room, took a basket holding about 20 jin of oranges, and came out smiling. “Brother Laifu, thank you. Please help us deliver these to Second Master He. We’re truly fortunate to have met him today; otherwise, we’d be homeless.”

Laifu glanced at the oranges, priced at 20 wen per jin. They looked ordinary, giving no hint of such value. He waved off the offer. “No need, you should sell them yourselves.”

He wasn’t willing to take something they couldn’t afford. If they accepted, would the young master have to pay?

Sun Chunlan quickly said, “Brother Laifu, these oranges have a unique flavor, fresh and sweet. Once you taste them, you’ll want more—they’re delicious.”

“Yes, really delicious. Everyone in our village loves our oranges,” Sun Bomin added, thinking Laifu disliked their fruit.

He quickly peeled one and handed it over. “Brother Laifu, try it. It’s very tasty. Young Master He will surely like it.”

The siblings’ enthusiasm was hard to resist. Laifu wouldn’t let them leave without tasting the oranges. Taking one, he peeled and popped a segment into his mouth.

After a bite, he kept eating, finishing the small oranges the size of a baby’s fist in just a few moments. Surprised, he said, “Oh! Brother Sun, your oranges really are delicious. No wonder they sell for 20 wen each.”

He had thought the siblings were inflating the price, but after tasting them, he realized they were truly worth it. Refreshing, sweet, and smooth—words could hardly capture their exquisite flavor.

Laifu happily took the basket. “Then I’ll thank the young master on your behalf. I must go now; the young master needs me.”

He left the courtyard quickly, peeling and eating a few more oranges along the way. “Ah, so good—I can’t resist.”

Seeing Laifu depart, the siblings finally felt at ease and entered their room, closing the door behind them.

“Big sister, look at this huge bowl of rice, packed tight. Look at the braised pork—so fatty and fragrant,” Sun Bomin said eagerly, picking up his chopsticks and sneaking a bite. It was truly delicious.

Since their father passed and their younger brother died of illness, the family only dared to buy one jin of pork for New Year’s. But that pork wasn’t for themselves—it was reserved for guests.

Their own chickens were kept for eggs and sold at the market. Chickens that couldn’t lay eggs were also sold. Their family couldn’t afford meat regularly; the money they earned bought rice bran and sweet potatoes to eat.

Sun Chunlan’s cheeks flushed, whether from warmth or emotion, as she looked at the large bowl of rice and sighed, “It’s a pity this food will spoil if we don’t eat it. If only we could pack some to take home.”

Sun Bomin felt deeply ashamed, only thinking of eating it himself. He scratched his head, saying nothing.

Sun Chunlan lifted her bowl gently. “Eat quickly. Let’s think of this as our New Year’s feast, just a little early.”

Sun Bomin’s eyes brightened. Smiling, he lifted the big bowl and ate heartily, exclaiming, “Big sister, the rice is so good, and the braised pork with preserved mustard greens tastes amazing. The cook is so kind to fill the bowl so full. Brother Laifu and the young master are all good people.”

As he spoke, he praised the new acquaintances one after another.

Sun Chunlan giggled and pushed some of the rice and meat into her brother’s bowl, laughing, “The bowl is too big—I can’t finish it.”

Though she claimed she couldn’t finish it, the truth was that a growing boy could eat a lot. The little brother was at that age, always hungry. Sharing the food helped him eat his fill.