Chapter 31 The Mouse That Stole the Cake

Huan Zhen never imagined that Lady Wang would make over ten trips to fetch water! He recalled the first time he met her at Shou Shi Slope, when she had mentioned collecting sheep dung there for five years. At the time, he thought nothing of it, but now that he was reduced to a lowly pavilion guard, forced to toil daily and constantly teetering on the edge of rage, he truly understood the depth of hardship—how "hard work" was suffering upon suffering.

The next day, the sky finally cleared. Wang Ge went out to wash clothes and soon encountered the pavilion guards measuring along the east-west road.

Was the village getting a new road?

This was a major event! In ancient times, the planning of roads was not a matter for officials to casually approve; roads were built to open trade routes or establish military roads. Which did Jia She Village fall under?

"Sir," Wang Ge approached a pavilion guard wearing a flat-topped cap.

Ren Suzhi turned around, noting that this village girl had a graceful appearance, and the composure and gentleness between her brows reminded him of his elder sister. He lowered his rough voice, "What is it?"

"Sir, is the township building a road for our village?"

"Yes, but only the main roads within the village—the north-south and this east-west road. Outside the village, the road will extend to Linshui Pavilion."

"That's wonderful! That means when we go to the township, most of the way will be easy to walk."

Ren Suzhi thought this young woman was quite content, unlike some villagers who, upon hearing the road would only reach Linshui Pavilion, complained that it didn’t reach the township.

"If you gentlemen get tired, come to my house for some water and rest. There, that one. I won’t disturb you further—I’m off to do laundry." Wang Ge only needed to confirm the road would be built; as for why it stopped at Jia She Village, such matters were beyond her understanding.

She had just rounded the corner when Huan Zhen, dusty and unbowed, came over to report to Ren Suzhi, "Sir, the west road has been measured."

"Good. Did you record how many households are on each side?"

Huan Zhen...

Ren Suzhi clicked his tongue, about to erupt, but Huan Zhen immediately turned back, "I'll do it right away!"

"You brat! Must I spell out every task for you? Next time, don't blame me for thrashing you!"

Ren Si! Damn it! Huan Zhen gritted his teeth, took out some pickled sauce, and put it back. No, half of the food was left, and there was nowhere to buy more for now. He had to save it.

As Wang Ge and Huan Zhen went their separate ways, neither knew that this road would become the starting point for many bold and ambitious souls, paving the way for their contributions to the Great Jin!

Before noon, Huan Zhen and his fellow pavilion guards left Jia She Village. The eldest son of the Jia landlord personally drove a cart of gifts to see them off, but Ren Suzhi politely declined.

The next evening, young Lady Jia returned, her hair in a falling horse bun and dressed in newly tailored robes and skirt. As soon as she entered the courtyard, she rushed to the main house, her eyes red, to apologize to her aunt and uncle.

When it came to instructing the new daughter-in-law, Old Wang rarely spoke.

Lady Jia’s face was solemn but not harsh. "I've spoken to your husband. He must not hold this against you, nor should you remain angry. Just live as before—peacefully."

"Yes, Mother."

"Go back to your room."

"Yes." As soon as Lady Jia left, her anxious expression vanished. Aunt’s words might have fooled her years ago, but now she understood that pretending to be virtuous only led to more losses! See, a minor quarrel and a few days at her parents' earned her new fabric. So what if her husband was angry? He’d forget in ten days or so.

Under Lady Jia’s stern gaze, Wang Shu left the utility room, head hung, and went back to her own quarters.

Wang Ge shook her head. The six-sided bamboo fan was complete, and she began her second weaving project: a pumpkin-shaped food box.

Food boxes were commonplace in the Great Jin Dynasty, and wealthy families treated them as a status symbol. The peddlers who traveled far and wide had seen much; to sell them a food box, it had to be sturdy and uniquely beautiful.

The inspiration for the pumpkin shape came from Qinghe Village, where Wang Ge noticed that many villagers liked pumpkins, though the vegetable had not yet been widely cultivated.

In her former life, Wang Nanxing had seen many basket makers weave pumpkin baskets and hampers, but the finished products were merely flat, round shapes—never with the ridges and grooves of a true pumpkin. Those that did have ridges were usually made from colorful, eco-friendly materials.

This tested the basket maker’s willingness to innovate, though solid basic skills remained essential for adaptability in the creative process.

Night was falling; she hurried to finish splitting the bamboo in the last bit of daylight.

The cracking sounds echoed through the utility room and the walls, yet could not escape Yao’s nitpicking. Standing at the door, she yelled, "It’s unbearably noisy!"

Wang Ge pretended not to hear and continued splitting bamboo.

Yao marched over and questioned through the window, "Did you not hear me?"

"What?" Wang Ge feigned to clean her ear, replying louder than Yao.

"Quit pretending!" Seeing the aunt emerge, Yao began to press her advantage, "You may be more capable and diligent than us, but even the industrious must consider others, right? You can’t disregard everyone else. Such noise—how can people sleep? Ah Ge, remember, you aren’t the only one living here!"

Wang Ge instantly knew that her grandmother had come out upon hearing the commotion, and not wanting to put her in a difficult position, she removed the stick propping up the grass curtain, closed the window and door, and went to fetch water.

Late at night, a small, wiry figure crept out of the east wing—it was Wang Zhu. He ran quickly into the kitchen, flipped the steamer lid on the stove, took out the half pancake that Wang Ge had warmed on the rack, and hurried back to his room. Yao pulled him into her arms and whispered, "Eat quickly. Once you’re done, come back; otherwise, your siblings might wake up if they smell it."

Wang Zhu, ever dutiful, tore off a piece for his mother first, then devoured the rest ravenously.

Wang Ge truly hadn’t expected even half a pancake would be coveted.

At breakfast, in front of the whole family, she feigned confusion, "The half pancake I put out for the mice last night was really taken—did the bait work, I wonder?"

Clang! Wang Zhu’s chopsticks clattered off the table and onto the mat. He gaped in terror at his mother. Yao, her expression matching her eldest son’s, shrieked and lunged to beat Wang Ge, "You heartless wretch! What were you thinking?! You put a poisoned pancake in the steamer, you put it in the steamer!"

"Enough!"

"Why are you hitting her?!"

"Hu Bao!"

"Sister-in-law, stop!"

"Ouch!"

"Waaa..."

For a moment, the house was in chaos—some pulling, some scolding, some crying, some gloating.

In the end, Second Brother Wang shoved his younger brother toward his wife, then shielded Wang Ge behind him, halting the farce. He was the main force in breaking up the fight, and Yao scratched him deeply several times—on his face and hands. Worse still, even blind First Brother Wang’s hand was scratched!

Dishes were in disarray, the younger children tearful, and Wang Zhu lay on the table clutching his belly.

Lady Jia tried several times to scratch back for her husband, but Wang He held her tightly.

Old Wang took several deep breaths, suppressing his fury, "From now on, no interruptions! The new wife and Ah Ge, each say one sentence—what happened? Anyone who shouts, acts out, or interferes again, get out of this house!" He flipped the table in front of him and pointed at Yao, "You first!"

"I’ll go first then!"

Old Wang pointed to Wang Ge, "Your turn!"

"Eh?" Yao was about to protest, but Third Brother Wang covered her mouth.

Second Brother Wang thought his younger brother was quick now, though during the scuffle he’d been as slow as if his feet were stuck in mud; disappointment mixed with irritation.

Wang Ge spoke succinctly, "Last night, the half pancake I saved was stolen from the steamer by Ah Zhu!"

Wang Zhu’s stomach twisted even harder.

It was Yao’s turn again; she cried, "You’re sly! You put a poisoned pancake in the steamer! Heaven help us..."

Without needing Old Wang to speak, Wang Ge cut off Yao’s tirade, "If I wanted to poison mice, who would put a poisoned pancake in the steamer?"

Yao, furious, laughed bitterly, "Exactly! You all heard! Who would put a poisoned pancake in the steamer and cover it? Is she afraid the mice won’t steal it? She did it on purpose! Heartless!"

Wang Ge, "I repeat—who would put a poisoned pancake in the steamer?"

Yao, "So brazen!"

Wang Ge, "Grandfather, Grandmother, we don’t have any mouse poison. I lied about the pancake being poisoned to scare off the thief pretending to be a mouse!"

Yao’s wailing stopped abruptly; she gasped for air, then let out a loud burp.