Old Yang’s wrinkled face twisted in frustration as he stomped his foot.
“You want beechwood, plus engraved characters and lacquer? Madam, go ask around all of Bianjing—where will you find something this cheap? That’s premium wood!”
Shen Miao slightly bowed.
“Old Master, you are an honest man. You’ve seen my home—it has just suffered a disaster, and I have two children to feed and care for. Every penny saved matters! In a few days, I’ll be back to have you make doors and windows!
You and I—we’re doing long-term business! Look, just yesterday I ordered furniture from you, and today I’ve come back to have you build me a cart. It’s not just because I trust your craftsmanship, but also because I trust your character!”
Hearing this, Old Yang’s tanned face flushed slightly, and he lifted his chin with pride.
He looked past Shen Miao at the collapsed courtyard wall and the house, now reduced to charred beams and ashes, and let out a deep sigh.
“Fine, fine! Helping others is helping oneself. I’ll do it for 200 wen. A young woman like you, raising children, really has it tough.”
Shen Miao was delighted—she had just saved another thirty wen!
She quickly clasped her hands in gratitude.
“Thank you, Old Master! I keep my word—I’ll definitely come back for those doors and windows!”
Old Yang chuckled.
“It’s a deal. No backing out.”
“Of course not!”
Shen Miao laughed.
“And from now on, if you come to buy pancakes, I’ll give you a discount!”
Yesterday, Shen Miao had already explained to Old Yang what kind of street food cart she wanted.
Old Yang, being a veteran carpenter, was also skilled at drawing schematics.
After just one explanation, he sketched out a detailed blueprint.
Shen Miao then went over it carefully, adding refinements:
The cart should have two rear wheels, with anti-slip hemp rope wrapped around them.
The front should have an I-shaped support foot and curved handles for easy maneuvering.
The cart bed should have four wooden posts, supporting a bamboo canopy.
On top of the canopy, there should be a wooden signboard, with the words “Shen Ji Pancake Shop” in bold, red lacquer.
Between “Shen Ji” and “Soup Pancakes,” there should be an engraved bowl.
The cart bed should be extendable—with mortise and tenon joints, allowing an extra foldable storage platform that could be used when open and folded away when not in use.
In the center of the cart bed, a circular depression should be carved out so that food basins could be securely placed to prevent them from toppling over when pushing the cart.
Wooden hooks should be added underneath the cart for hanging bamboo baskets to store bowls, utensils, and condiments.
Lastly, the entire cart should be coated with waterproof tung oil lacquer to prevent rot and mold during rainy weather.
After hearing all this, Old Yang had stared at Shen Miao for a long time, his expression a mix of grievance over her extreme thriftiness and uncertainty about her ambitious demands.
“Madam, this cart is no ordinary one. It’s complicated to build… Do you even have a budget? How much are you planning to spend?”
Shen Miao chuckled awkwardly, eyes shifting as she prepared to sell him a dream.
“Oh, Old Master, don’t think I’m taking advantage of you! Just do your best, and when the cart is finished, I’ll let you carve ‘Yang Old Master’s Woodwork’ on the wheel. Once I set up at Jinliang Bridge, anyone who asks about the cart, I’ll send them straight to you!
You won’t ever have to worry about a lack of customers again! Helping me is helping yourself—it’s a win-win, don’t you think?”
Old Yang said nothing, puffing his dry tobacco pipe, the sound of his smoking filling the air.
He hesitated for a long time before finally replying, “Let me think about it. After I deliver your furniture tomorrow, I’ll give you an answer.”
Shen Miao left him to consider, confident that he would agree—after all, his apprentices had all been nodding along as they listened, clearly tempted by the idea.
Sure enough, by early morning today, the deal was sealed.
Old Yang said that even with three apprentices working day and night, the cart would take half a month to complete.
Shen Miao agreed and paid 100 wen as a deposit.
Naturally, this was a custom order, so there was no ready-made stock.
She didn’t mind waiting—without a cart for now, she could sell something lighter instead.
Once Old Yang left, Shen Miao picked up some bamboo poles.
The weather was clear and sunny, with warm spring sunlight shining over the entire Shen family courtyard.
Standing on the porch steps, she squinted up at the sky, thinking:
This yard would be perfect for growing flowers and vegetables.
Once she had time, she would clear out a patch of land and, on market day, buy some chicks and vegetable seeds—wouldn’t that be nice?
As she mentally calculated the next market day, she propped the bamboo poles against the broken wall and took the bedding borrowed from Aunt Gu, dismantling it for washing.
The cotton batting inside was spread out under the sun to dry.
She heated a bucket of water and sent Ji Ge and Xiang Jie one by one to wash up behind the house, where it was private.
She also had them remove their outer clothes, which she washed as well.
Just as she was halfway through washing, the cotton worker arrived to deliver the new quilts.
He looked around at the ruined house, astonished that anyone could still live there.
He even seemed to recognize Shen Miao’s father.
As he stepped inside, he sighed, “Your parents really suffered a terrible fate… and then the fire… such misfortune!”
Indeed, indeed.
Shen Miao sighed along with him, exchanging a few sympathetic words.
The cotton worker then said kindly, “Your father used to serve soup pancakes at his shop and often gave extra food to the poor. If struggling families came, he wouldn’t even charge them for extra broth.
He was a good man! From now on, if your quilts get stiff from use, just bring them over—I’ll fluff them up for free!”
That was excellent news!
Shen Miao gratefully invited him to drink a bowl of water before seeing him off at the door.
When she returned inside, Ji Ge had already laid out all the bedding.
The entire room was now filled with the warm scent of freshly fluffed cotton.
Xiang Jie, dressed only in her underclothes, happily kicked off her shoes and began rolling around on the new quilts in pure delight.
The wooden doors of the Shen family’s front shop had only been scorched black by the fire but remained sturdy.
Shen Miao knocked on each panel to check—they were still solid.
So, she simply wedged a piece of broken wood into the door latch, making sure it couldn’t budge anymore, effectively sealing the shop.
With that, the shop was completely transformed into their living quarters.
Turning around, she saw Xiang Jie had stuck her little pinwheel, painted with a pony, onto the headboard.
She smiled knowingly.
It was simple, but at least this place finally felt like home.
Shen Miao then pulled out the fabric she had bought the night before and had Ji Ge and Xiang Jie stand still while she held the cloth against them, measuring their sizes.
She stitched a couple of markers with a needle before sitting down on the bed to start sewing.
She had no intention of embroidering patterns—just cutting and sewing based on their previous clothes’ style.
At first, Shen Miao was a little clumsy with the needle, but after a few stitches, her body seemed to remember the skill, and she gradually picked up speed.
Since children’s clothes required less fabric, they were much faster to sew than adult garments.
While she worked, Ji Ge, having taken his medicine, practiced writing in the courtyard with a wooden stick.
Perhaps it was because Shen Miao had returned, but the weight on his shoulders seemed lighter, and his spirits had lifted.
His illness was recovering rapidly—his fever had not returned, and only a mild cough remained.
Xiang Jie, understanding her sister’s work, helped by separating threads and holding the fabric taut.
By noon, Shen Miao had finished hemming and making buttonholes, and the outer robe for Xiang Jie was completed—finally, the little girl wouldn’t have to run around in her underclothes anymore.
When she tried on the new clothes, the pale yellow fabric made her fair face glow rosy.
She looked like a plump little peanut, so overjoyed that her face flushed red.
Not knowing how long it had been since she last wore new clothes, she twirled around in excitement like a happy little magpie before throwing her arms around Shen Miao’s neck, unwilling to let go.
“Let go, you’re squeezing the breath out of me!”
Shen Miao laughed as she peeled Xiang Jie off her, stepping back to examine the fit.
Her first attempt at sewing had some rough stitches, but at least the size was just right.
At noon, Shen Miao originally planned to make some noodles, but before she could start a fire, Aunt Gu arrived to return the ceramic urn—not only that, but she had also brought a pot of millet porridge and a few pancakes.
Shen Miao tried to refuse for a long time but couldn’t win against Aunt Gu’s insistence, so she had no choice but to accept.
Sigh, the more favors she accepted, the more she owed!
Before leaving, Aunt Gu couldn’t hold back her emotions, grabbing Shen Miao’s hand as tears welled up in her eyes.
“Oh… you poor child!”
It seemed that Aunt Gu had heard about her being divorced.
But Shen Miao herself felt no shame nor self-pity—the one who truly suffered was the original Shen Da Jie’er, who had died full of regret.
That afternoon, Ji Ge and Xiang Jie nestled into their warm, soft new bedding and quickly fell asleep.
Shen Miao never liked taking naps, so she sat outside in the golden afternoon sunlight and continued sewing Ji Ge’s outer robe.
By the time the children woke up, the ceramics shop worker had arrived, carrying a shoulder pole to deliver the goods.
He also threw in a few extra earthenware plates for free.
Shen Miao thanked him and casually asked which shop had the best prices for charcoal and ironware.
The young worker, seeing Shen Miao, immediately blushed, stumbling over his words as he nervously gave her directions.
Once everything was settled, Shen Miao dressed Ji Ge and Xiang Jie neatly in their new clothes.
Then, she sat Xiang Jie on a round stool and carefully braided her hair into two round buns, securing them with a pair of silk butterfly hair pins from her personal chest.
Ji Ge watched silently before suddenly asking keenly, “Are you taking us out, Sister?”
Shen Miao stepped back to admire her handiwork—a six-year-old bean sprout, and yet so incredibly adorable when dressed up.
She nodded in satisfaction and replied:
“Yes. I see that you’re almost fully recovered, and there’s no better day than today. We’re going to Uncle’s house to demand an explanation.”
At this, Ji Ge’s expression fell.
“Aunt is sharp-tongued and mean. I’m afraid you’ll suffer, Sister.”
Shen Miao turned in surprise—this child was worried about her?
Ji Ge, embarrassed to be stared at, lowered his head and stared at his feet.
After a long pause, he suddenly lifted his gaze, full of determination, and declared:
“Teacher once said that a gentleman must always be respectful and should never speak rudely, for that would undermine his virtue. But… if Aunt insults you, Sister, I… I will definitely insult her back!”
Shen Miao burst out laughing.
This child—he may be bookish, but at least he wasn’t completely naive!
A warm feeling spread in her heart.
Ever since she had left the Rong family, it seemed that in this unfamiliar world, she had only encountered good people.
She habitually ruffled Ji Ge’s hair—this time, he didn’t dodge.
“Don’t worry. We’re not going there to pick a fight. Even if they hadn’t mistreated you and Xiang Jie, I haven’t returned to my family in three years. Now that I’m back, it’s only proper to visit Uncle—it’s the expected etiquette. Besides…”
Shen Miao bent down, tweaked Ji Ge’s nose, and raised an eyebrow with a sly smile.
“Who says I can’t win an argument?”