The Fisherman Goes Out

When she woke it was already light out. She looked over and Song Yuming was already gone. He had tucked the quilt in tightly so that she wouldn't catch a draft. Her heart was all warm. How could this fisherman be so thoughtful? She closed her eyes again and inhaled the rose petal perfume from the quilt, her mind fluttering.

She resisted for a long time, then finally had to get up and get dressed. It was cold, but a new bride couldn't just laze about in bed all day. Actually, she had a little idea. She wanted to see what Song Yuming was doing.

She gingerly stepped out of bed, toeing as lightly as she could, not wanting to disturb Song Yuming. Little did she know he heard her all the same. The man pushed the door open and entered. He was carrying a piping hot bowl of congee.

Xue Dongting smiled, blushing, embarrassed for him to see her with her hair all messy. Even more embarrassed because of what happened last night.

Song Yuming didn't seem to notice her hair. "There's hot water in the kitchen."

"Mm," she said absently. She didn't know what had gotten into her for her to bring up last night, but she said, "Last night… I shouldn't have…"

He set the bowl of congee down and looked at her, waiting for her to finish her sentence. But she was stammering and couldn't get it out.

The fisherman suddenly spoke in a commanding voice, "It's cold out, put on more clothes so you don't catch cold."

Xue Dongting was grateful for the change of subject, giving her an out. She blushed and smiled at him and nodded obediently.

She threw on a teal cotton-padded robe and went to the kitchen, where she was greeted with the heady scent of firewood. The kitchen was also the woodshed, pile of wood stacked as high as a man in a corner of the plastered walls. The ceiling was high which made the whole room chilly. She glanced at the big steaming pot on the stove and went over to take a look. It was boiling water. A wood basin sat on the counter by the stove, and there was a clean cloth at the edge of the counter.

She poured hot water and washed her face, same as she always had at Cloudgem Lodge. Normally she would then paint her eyebrows and powder her face, but she didn't have to fool with all that now. She just wanted a quiet, peaceful life.

Xue Dongting went back to the bedroom and saw Song Yuming wearing a straw cloak and a woven bamboo hat, getting ready to go out. She looked up at him and asked, "You're leaving?"

Song Yuming nodded. "Hurry and eat your congee while it's hot. If you want to make anything else, go right ahead, make yourself at home. We're married now, so this is your home."

She nodded. "Mm. Then uh… be careful."

Tenderness flashed through Song Yuming's eyes. He said "Mm" as well, then went out.

Xue Dongting watched his huge frame walk away under that bamboo hat and straw cloak, her mind racing. Mama Qiao had said the fisherman had a boat. When he couldn't go fishing he would ferry people across the river to make some extra money. It was the dead of winter so he was most likely going to the riverbank to ferry people across.

She ate some congee and that warmed her up. She had nothing to do after she ate, but she noticed the kitchen was a bit messy so she set about straightening it up, putting the bowls and chopsticks away. A man living all by himself naturally wouldn't pay much attention to such trifles.

It was cloudy out, and before she knew it it was noon. Xue Dongting spotted a some cured meat hanging from the eaves. She cut a piece off, washed it and sliced it, then fried it in onion and garlic. Mama Qiao had taught her how to cook, and her cooking and needlework was superb. Back at the third prince's manor in her previous life, Xue Dongting had not had to do any cooking herself. Her skills had gone to waste for ten years. But she found she had not lost her knack for cooking. Seemed she had not forgotten Mama Qiao's teachings.

Xue Dongting looked into the rice jar and saw it was half-full. She remembered that Song Yuming ate a lot so she ladled several scoops and set it to cook. She took the leftover beef slices from last night, added oil and salt, and stir-fried it again. Judging by the time, Song Yuming ought to be coming back home to eat. She waited a while, but he still had not returned.