Chapter 24

Song Dingxiang caught the subtle shift in her sister's expression and sighed inwardly.

In her time, women had long embraced independence. If they ended up with a worthless man, they wouldn't hesitate to cut their losses. Divorce wasn't a disgrace-it was a strategic retreat, a necessary move to clear out dead weight. Who had time to keep trash around for the New Year celebrations?

But in this era, things were different. Divorce wasn't just frowned upon; it was a stain that lingered, a mark of shame that clung to a woman long after the ink had dried on the papers.

With that thought, she smiled, her voice laced with gentle persuasion yet edged with undeniable steel. "Sister, listen to me. You have a son at your side, and your family stands behind you. Why not take charge of your own home? If you hold the reins, your husband will have no choice but to respect you, and your in-laws won't dare stir up trouble. But if you let them walk all over you now, even with your family backing you up, won't you still end up being the one suffering? Think about it-doesn't standing your ground make more sense?"

The Song family had always upheld strong values, and Fang Shi wasn't the kind of woman to be easily trampled. A child raised in such an environment wouldn't crumble at the first sign of hardship. Strength ran in their blood-fear was for those who had never been taught to stand tall.

Song Yulan was so upset for two reasons: she was too young and had been sheltered all her life, so she didn't understand the wickedness of human nature, and she also had feelings for that man, especially because of the child.

These feelings would be used by the man to suppress her, leaving her at a loss.

Although Song Dingxiang had never been married before, she was worldly-wise and knew how to advise and comfort in such situations.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Song Yulan straightened her spine and rose to her feet. Her voice, now tinged with a newfound resolve, carried a sharp edge as she declared, "You're right. I've been far too passive about this... I'm going back. If they dare stir up trouble again, I'll take the child and expose them to the entire neighborhood-let everyone see just how much dowry they shamelessly took from me. I refuse to believe they'll have the audacity to keep up their act once the truth is laid bare."

There's an old saying: even the fiercest bullies will flinch in the face of someone with nothing to lose.

Song Yulan wasn't backing down-not this time. With her family standing firmly behind her, she had no reason to yield. If they thought they could manipulate her into submission, they were in for a rude awakening. She would meet their arrogance head-on and stamp it out herself.

"Sister, at least have a bowl of porridge before you go?" Zhou Yinuo called out, already ladling the thick, fragrant porridge into a bowl. Now that Song Yulan had stirred the household awake, it was pointless to try sleeping again. They might as well eat and prepare for the day ahead.

But Song Yulan had no patience for that. She splashed her face with steaming water, dabbing on a touch of Song Dingxiang's delicately scented ointment before shaking her head. "No time. I need to head back while the streets are still quiet-if too many people see me, I won't be able to explain why I returned without visiting my family properly."

She had rushed here in the dead of night, and now she was rushing away just as quickly. Song Dingxiang watched her sister's retreating figure, a familiar ache settling in her chest.

For the first time, she truly understood the silent, complicated emotions Fang Shi must have felt whenever she sent off a daughter-half worry, half unwillingness to let go.

*

Zhou Yinuo's knee pads and fur vest were ready, and Song Dingxiang was making insoles for him. There were two types of insoles - one with a layer of cotton on top for comfort and warmth, and another was a simple insole for summer wear.

In addition to the insoles, socks also needed to be sewn. At that time, socks were not like the future ones made of pure cotton with elastic bands.

In fact, they were just cloth bags that could be tied to the feet with a rope. Song Dingxiang measured Zhou Yituo's feet and also sewed a layer of insole on the bottom of the socks. This way, even if the shoes wore out, the feet would not get hurt.

The shoes made for Zhou Yinuo by Fang shi's and others were very sturdy, with thick soles and leather sewn on the shoe uppers and toes, making the shoes warm and durable.

The straw armor prepared by Song Dingxiang was also ready. This straw armor was very sturdy and could be used as a frame to carry things.

In case of emergencies, it could be tied to the body with a rope, turning it into a piece of armor.

As the time to leave for the army approached, the family became more anxious, wishing they could send everything Zhou Yinuo could carry, fearing he would freeze or get injured outside.

Song Dingxiang also had her father make a few leather bags. These leather bags were not for carrying water.

One contained fried salty ginger shrimp powder, and the other contained anti-inflammatory ointment. These bags would be tightly tied to the body when needed for survival.

Just after the fifteenth day, people came to the town and called out the names of the men who had been enlisted.

When Zhou Yinuo left, Song Dingxiang felt okay, but Fang shi cried a lot. She looked at her daughter with eyes full of love.

After he left, Song Dingxiang moved back to the Song family without saying a word, and the house was cleaned up for the eldest uncle and his wife to move in. When spring arrived and the sow gave birth, someone needed to watch over it at all times, so it was convenient to have someone living there regularly.

Zhou Yinuo, carrying his belongings, stood with a group of familiar and unfamiliar people, feeling extremely nervous. He had become stronger in these two months, his complexion wasn't as dark as before, and he looked quite handsome.

Especially since he was tall, as soon as he stood out, he stood out from the crowd.

The air carried a crisp, charged energy as a young man, his attire and bearing unmistakably that of an official, strolled in with a practiced ease. His voice cut through the murmurs of the gathered men like a blade, bold and demanding attention.

"Who here goes by the name Zhou Tiezhu?"

Zhou Yinuo blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He hadn't even opened his mouth before several voices around him responded on his behalf.

The official's brows furrowed slightly. "I mean Zhou Tiezhu, the one who took down a tiger. From Beihegou Village."

Zhou Yinuo stepped forward, leveling his gaze with quiet confidence. "That would be me."

The man took a moment to size him up, a smirk playing at his lips. "Not bad," he remarked, amusement laced in his tone. "Tell me-can you read?"

Zhou Yinuo inclined his head slightly. "A little. Not much."

That seemed to catch the official off guard. His brows lifted in surprise. "Oh? You can read? What about writing?"

"I can write a bit," Zhou Yinuo admitted, "though it might not be the neatest."

The official let out a low chuckle, clearly pleased. "Well, well. That's good enough. Come with me." Then, with an absent flick of his wrist, he gave orders to the rest. "Wu San'er, handle the distribution."

Without another word, he turned and strode away, his hands clasped behind his back, exuding the air of someone used to being obeyed.

Zhou Yinuo gathered his belongings and followed, feeling the weight of envious gazes trailing after him.

They arrived at a row of simple, weathered houses before the official finally spoke again. "My surname is Wang. My uncle bought a tiger from you. He thought you were competent and mentioned your name to me. As it happens, I need someone with both literacy and combat skills." He paused, letting that sink in, then added smoothly, "Work hard, and there will be plenty of opportunities for advancement. Wealth, too, if you have the ambition for it."

Zhou Yinuo bowed, mind racing. Was this the kind of moment that required kneeling? He hesitated, unsure. "Thank you, sir."

Wang laughed, shaking his head. "Sir? Why so formal? I'm the captain here. From now on, address me as Wang Daren. Understood?" Without waiting for a reply, he gestured to a nearby, slightly run-down house. "You'll be staying there for now. Your days will be filled with training and following me. Come spring, we're moving north. It's already cold enough to freeze your nose off here-up there, it'll be even worse."

His tone was light, but Zhou Yinuo didn't miss the undercurrent of command. He understood, right then, that his life was about to change.

Zhou Yinuo nodded in agreement, then paused for a moment as if weighing his next move. After a brief consideration, he reached into his belongings and pulled out a pair of knee pads, crafted from supple wolf skin. With an easy yet deliberate motion, he extended them toward Wang Daren.

"Captain Wang, these were made by my mother-in-law back in the village," Zhou Yinuo remarked, his tone casual but laced with a subtle undercurrent of intent. "If you don't mind, take them."

At first, Wang Daren arched a brow, clearly caught off guard. But then, a deep, amused chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Well, well," he mused, shaking his head with a smirk. "Most people try to impress me with silver or women. But you? You hand me knee pads. Clever. Practical, even. I like that."

Taking the offering in his hands, he ran his fingers over the texture of the wolf skin, his expression shifting from entertained to mildly impressed. "Ah, the belly side? Not bad. Soft." His lips quirked slightly as if savoring the thought, before he tucked the gift away with an air of easy satisfaction. "I'll remember this, Zhou Tiezhu."

--- T/Note: [ ] The term "千户" (qiān hù) refers to a military rank in ancient China, equivalent to a regimental commander. [ ] "王大人" (Wáng dàrén) is a respectful title for an official with the surname Wang. ---

*

After the fifteenth day had passed, not only did Zhou Yinuo go off to enlist, but Song Zhixuan also hurried back to his academy. Song Taohong's husband, Xu Qiang, and a few other scholars from the area hired a carriage to head to the capital.

The topics discussed in the village these days were about the men who had been enlisted and whether Xu Qiang could pass the imperial examination.

Being sisters from the same family, one man was risking his life enlisting in the army, while the other was climbing the ladder of success by attempting to pass the imperial examination. This comparison excited many people, who secretly talked about the two sisters from the Song family.

Song Dingxiang simply stayed indoors, peacefully sewing clothes, cooking, and cleaning the yard until the spring planting. The gossip eventually died down after the farming season began.

Spring planting was a major event for rural households, and the Song family owned a lot of land, with a total of thirty-eight acres, not including the additional five acres from the dowry Song Dingxiang had brought. With both women in the family now pregnant, they didn't even have half the labor they needed, so this time, even Fang shi's two sons had to go to help with the planting.

Thank goodness there's a cow at home, otherwise who knows how tiring it would be.

Song Dingxiang wrapped her head in a scarf, stepping on the soft black soil moistened by melting snow water, making her way to her family's land. Her five acres of land had been rented out by Song Xingyi, now she was busy tending to her family's land.

Song Xingyi was leading the cow, Song Zhicheng was behind, supporting the plow, turning the soil deeply, emitting a refreshing spring scent. Song Zhiyuan was with several children and women, smashing large chunks of soil with hoes, making the land even softer.

This plot of land being plowed was for planting rice, with a large area nearby planted with winter wheat. The melting snow revealed tender green sprouts, warming the hearts of those who saw it.

As the saying goes, "In 29, don't work, in 39, walk on ice, in 59, look at willows across the river, in 79, the river opens, swallows arrive, in 99 plus one 19, the oxen plow the land everywhere." Song Dingxiang wiped her sore back and felt as if she had returned to a period after liberation.

Several sparrows chirped on the nearby poplar trees, and as far as the eye could see, there were fields filled with farmers and several plowing oxen.

At this time, having an ox truly represented a wealthy household. Among Song Xingyi's six brothers, only the eldest had an ox. The lands of the fifth and sixth brothers had mostly been rented out, with only four to five acres personally cultivated for growing fine grains.

Third Old Song Lao San and Second Song Lao Er had large families, and at this time, they all wished for everyone to work together, toiling in the fields. Because they had all split from the main family, and each managed their own affairs, at first glance, it didn't seem as prosperous as Song Xingyi's family, where the entire family gathered to work together.

Around noon, the food was brought by the heavily pregnant Fang shi and her three young nephews. The seven-year-old Tudan, four-year-old Heidan, and Dogdan carried a basket of provisions, their little legs moving quickly.

Even families who were usually frugal wouldn't skimp on the laborers during spring plowing. The food Fang shi brought was stewed meat with pickled cabbage and large pancakes. As soon as the lid was lifted, the delicious aroma wafted out, attracting the attention of the neighbors from the Third Old Song family.

Song Xingren swallowed hard, his gaze lifting toward the relentless sun hanging high overhead. His voice carried a tinge of impatience as he turned to his eldest son.

"Go back and check what's going on. Why hasn't the food arrived yet? It's already this late-are we supposed to skip lunch and still put in a full afternoon's work?"

Song Zhishen instinctively hunched his shoulders at the sharp tone, muttering a quick acknowledgment before hurrying off toward the house. The moment he stepped through the door, his eyes landed on his daughter, Song Jiaoxing, who was standing by the stove, her expression focused as she flipped pancakes in the pan with practiced efficiency.

His brows furrowed. "Why are you the one cooking? Where's your grandmother?" His wife, Wu Shi, stepped in behind him, scanning the room, but there was no sign of Old Third Song San's wife.

Song Jiaoxing let out a small, unimpressed snort. "You all barely left when she showed up, claiming my sister wasn't feeling well and needed her. Didn't say much-just turned around and left. I waited and waited, but it was nearly noon, and she still wasn't back. Figured I'd better start cooking unless you wanted to come home to an empty table and a bad mood."

Wu Shi pressed her lips together, her tone laced with irritation. "And what's your sister up to now?" Since marrying into the Taohong family, Song Taohong had apparently become something of a delicate treasure-too precious, it seemed, to manage without sending others running at her every whim.