Early the next morning, Song Jinzhao headed towards Xining City, carrying a bamboo basket on her back containing pheasants and hares.
In the early morning, the Shiyouji Restaurant had little business. A waiter, seeing Song Jinzhao enter with her bamboo basket, found her familiar.
Wasn't this the girl who asked yesterday if they bought game? Did she manage to hunt something?
She lifted the green grass covering the basket. "Brother, two pheasants and three hares in total, all still alive. Could you please ask the manager how much they're worth?"
The waiter looked down at the white-furred hare in the basket, its eyes darting around, a spot of blood on its leg.
"Wait a moment, miss, I'll go fetch the manager."
Not long after, the waiter returned with a man in his forties wearing a dark green satin robe, emerging from the kitchen.
Manager Li's gaze fell on Song Jinzhao, showing some surprise.
He had never seen a girl of her age bringing game to sell.
"Seventy coppers for a pheasant, one hundred coppers for a hare. We can give an extra ten coppers for these two white hares."
Snow-white fur was more favored by the nobility, making the pelts three to four times more expensive than those of grey hares.
Song Jinzhao blinked, thinking. Pork was thirty coppers per jin; this price was even cheaper than pork.
Seeing no unusual expression on the waiter's face, she presumed the price was the same as what Hunter Liu received yesterday. They hadn't lowballed her because of her youth.
"Thank you, Manager."
Manager Li signaled with his eyes for the waiter to take the game to the kitchen. "Miss, if you have more game to sell in the future, you can bring it all here."
Recently, with more merchants coming and going at the canal docks, pheasants and hares were in short supply.
The corners of Song Jinzhao's mouth lifted slightly, the curve as if practiced hundreds of times—not overly enthusiastic, yet perfectly friendly.
"As long as the price is fair, I'll certainly sell to you first."
Four hundred and sixty copper coins. She was forty coppers short of half a tael of silver.
A farming family, selling their grain harvest for a year, might only save three or four taels of silver. If unlucky enough to encounter drought or flood, not only would the harvest be meager, but they'd also go hungry all year, and paying the imperial grain tax could bankrupt them.
After her original parents passed away, they left only a few dozen coppers. Besides the high cost of raising three children, last year's locust plague in Xining City left the people with almost no harvest. All the silver saved from previous years was handed over to the court to make up the grain tax, which was why they were so poor.
As soon as she entered the courtyard gate, Song Jinzhao heard an infant's cry.
She quickly set down the bamboo basket and ran into the house. She saw Song Shixue, sweating profusely, holding Song Anhao and trying to soothe him, while Song Qiming circled around them anxiously.
Seeing Song Jinzhao return, they clung to her like a lifeline.
Song Shixue hurried over. "Elder Sister, I don't know what's wrong. Younger Brother keeps crying and won't calm down."
Song Qiming added, "We fed him rice soup just half an hour ago, and his diaper is dry."
Song Jinzhao took the baby and checked. The premature infant's cries were even weaker than a normal baby's.
His belly was slightly swollen—bloated.
She slowly rubbed it in a circular motion.
Seeing her younger brother gradually stop crying in her elder sister's arms, Song Shixue sighed in relief but also felt deeply guilty.
It was because she wasn't doing well enough that her brother had cried so much.
Song Jinzhao comforted her, "It's alright. It's just that the rice paste isn't digesting in his stomach. He's uncomfortable from the bloating."
Song Shixue asked helplessly, "Then what should we do?"
What could he eat if not rice paste?
Song Jinzhao sat down holding the baby, thinking aloud, "If only we had breast milk."
Breast milk is the most nutritious for a newborn.
Song Qiming's furrowed little brows raised. "Tudan's mother gave birth to a little sister a month ago. His family surely has milk."
Song Jinzhao's eyes lit up, and she stood immediately. "Where does Tudan live? Is it nearby?"
Song Qiming pointed outside. "Just go forward a bit from Grandfather's house."
Song Jinzhao put the baby on the bed, instructing Song Shixue to watch him, then took the money pouch and had Song Qiming lead the way.
Just as they reached the courtyard gate, they saw an elderly man with white hair sitting in the yard weaving bamboo strips.
Memories surfaced in her mind: Tudan's grandfather, Song Chun, was the oldest in the village and highly respected by the villagers.
Being over eighty years old was considered very long-lived in ancient times. His age made his legs and feet unsteady, unfit for fieldwork, so he stayed home weaving baskets.
"Grandpa Tudan, is Tudan's mother home?"
Song Chun turned his head slowly, surprised and puzzled to see Song Jinzhao.
The villagers had thought Old Man Song would take his four grandchildren home to care for them. Who knew he not only didn't take them in but let a young girl head the household.
News about the adoption and the child bride for a wedding to ward off bad luck had already spread in the village. Song Daniu's family kept their mouths shut, saying nothing.
But Master Zhao couldn't keep a secret, spilling everything.
The villagers sighed, acknowledging Song Jinzhao was a good elder sister, yet also convinced she wouldn't last more than a few days.
"It's Jinzhao, dear. Come, sit."
A woman speaking came out of the kitchen, a baby tied to her back with cloth strips. Her coarse clothes hung loosely, her chest slightly full, and traces of sweat still on her face.
Tudan's Mother invited Song Jinzhao and her brother to sit inside, then untied the baby from her back and held it in her arms.
Her gaze rested on their faces, worried the siblings had come to borrow money.
Third Song left behind four children, all so young. If they asked, it would be hard to refuse.
But the family was poor with little silver to spare; if lent out, who knew when it would be returned.
Song Jinzhao saw the plump cheeks of the baby in Tudan's Mother's arms and glanced at her chest, certain her milk supply was ample.
"Auntie, I came today hoping to buy some of your breast milk for my second brother to drink."
Tudan's Mother's lips parted wide enough to fit a quail egg.
Song Jinzhao continued, "During the day when he needs feeding, I'll have Shixue bring my brother over. He won't need it at night. Two coppers a day. Would that be acceptable?"
Tudan's Mother, recovering, quickly shook her head. "It's just a few mouthfuls of milk, no need for money. You can just bring the child over."
Such a pitiful thing, born without a mother, never tasted a drop of milk, and a premature baby at that, not very healthy.
Song Jinzhao took ten copper coins from her pouch and pushed them onto the table. "It won't be just once or twice, but four or five times a day. I wouldn't feel right bringing him over without paying."
"I'll pay for five days first. Is that alright?"
Looking at the coins pushed towards her, accepting the money meant she had to feed him properly, ensure he was full.
Thinking her milk was fairly plentiful, Tudan's Mother suppressed her delight and agreed. "Alright, just bring him over whenever."
After arranging the feeding matter, Song Jinzhao shouldered her bamboo basket and went up the mountain to hunt again.
By the time she returned home in the afternoon, the water vat had already been filled by Oldest Song.
She took out the fabric bought yesterday and began cutting. She herself didn't know how to make clothes, but the original host did.
Following the remembered method, she cut the fabric and started sewing. After just two stitches, she stared at the crooked line, looking at her fingers in disbelief.
How was it so different from the original host's straight stitches? She had done it exactly the same way.
"Elder Sister, are you making clothes for Younger Brother?" Song Shixue asked, stopping nearby with vegetables just picked from the yard.
Song Jinzhao set down the needlework in her hands. "Mother's clothes are made of rather coarse fabric. I want to make two new sets, so she'll look presentable when going to Tudan's house for milk."
Song Shixue craned her neck, scratched her head, and pouted her lips in confusion, muttering to herself, "Elder Sister's needlework seems to have gotten much worse. These stitches aren't close together at all."
Song Jinzhao held her breath, unconsciously clenching her fingers.
"Ouch~"
She quickly shook her hand and frowned. Looking closely, she saw a small puncture on her thumb, with a bead of blood welling up.
Song Shixue cried out anxiously, "Elder Sister!"
Song Jinzhao waved her hand and picked up the needle and thread that had fallen to the ground. "I used a lot of strength hunting in the mountains these past few days. My hands aren't steady enough for fine work."
Song Shixue didn't fully understand the reasoning, but she felt whatever her elder sister said must be right.
She took the fabric and snatched the needle and thread. "I'll make the clothes for the family from now on. Elder Sister, don't trouble yourself with it."
Song Jinzhao watched as her sister's next few stitches became even denser than a sewing machine's, then lifted her head toward the sky with an unnatural expression. Even a ten-year-old child was better at this than she was.
"Shixue's skill is truly excellent. Your elder sister feels ashamed she can't compare."
Not far away, squatting by the water vat washing diapers, Song Qiming bit his lip tightly.
Elder Sister could hunt. Younger Sister could make clothes. Only he couldn't do anything.
