An Dong said nothing.
Did she think that he craved boar meat that badly? He didn’t want it at all!
He rubbed her nose awkwardly and explained, “I wanted to say that this wild boar is so big that you won’t be able to finish it.
I usually send it to the restaurants in town when I hunt.
If you want to sell it, I can help introduce you to the buyers!”
Shen Yijia glanced at Madam Li and nodded.
“Alright, we’ll keep some for ourselves.
I’ll leave the rest to you.
You can drive our carriage there.”
Then she remembered that she had never been to town before.
Just as she was about to suggest going with him, the sound of porcelain shattering could be heard.
Shen Yijia left An Dong behind and ran into the room.
Without waiting for Shen Yijia to speak, Song Jingchen explained, “I’m fine.
I just accidentally touched it.”
After saying that, he lowered his head in frustration.
How could he have done such a childish thing?
In Shen Yijia’s opinion, Song Jingchen was feeling down because it was inconvenient for him to move around.
She comforted him.
It’s just a cup.
I’ll help you make your wheelchair in the next two days.”
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She knew that the wheelchair could at most make it easier for Song Jingchen to move around, but it couldn’t make him stand up.
She had to think of a way to treat his legs.
It seemed that simply drinking spiritual liquid wouldn’t work.
Didn’t they say in her previous life that it was better to apply it internally and externally? Maybe she could soak his feet in the spiritual liquid in the future.
Perhaps Song Jingchen’s legs would recover after this.
“How clever of me!” she thought.
She swept away the debris on the ground and poured Song Jingchen a glass of water.
The family sat down to eat.
At the Song family’s old residence.
Madam Liu, Song Dajiang’s wife, had just finished cooking with her two daughters-in-law when the men who had gone to work in the fields returned.
She took the food to the central room and set the dishes.
Madam Liu wiped her hands and entered the house to call her youngest son, Song Maolin, and daughter, Song Jiayue, out for dinner.
Song Dajiang had three sons and one daughter.
The eldest son, Song Dalin, was married to Madam Liu’s niece.
Everyone in the village called her Little Madam Liu.
The two had a three-year-old son, Fu Bao.
The second son, Song Erlin, had just gotten married last year to Madam Chen from Shanghe Village.
Madam Chen had just gotten pregnant.
Next on the list were Song Maolin and the youngest, Song Jiayue.
In the early years, the Song family had been living well because of the silver given to them by the old duke.
The old duke also let them take a lot of money with them.
However, Granny Song knew what Song Dahai was like.
As soon as they returned to the village, they built a green brick house with that sum of money.
They kept some of the remaining money for the family and bought fields for planting crops.
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They could earn a sizable amount by renting the fields to the farmers.
They were indeed rich, but after paying for Song Maolin’s studies at school, they could not make ends meet.
Especially after Song Maolin became a scholar, he sold more than half of his family’s fields to give gifts.
Song Maolin usually wore clothes made of fine cotton.
Compared to the coarse linen that everyone usually wore, which cost ten copper coins a foot, the fine linen was much more expensive, being thirty-five copper coins a foot.
Not many people in the countryside could afford it.
Coupled with the brush, ink, and paper he used, as well as the social events with his classmates, the money that his family earned was not enough for him.
The Song family only had a superficial reputation now.
It was only because the academy was on holiday today that Song Maolin could return home for a meal.
They had meat stew with radishes, and the air was filled with the rich fragrance of meat.
But it wasn’t much.
They could barely have two pieces each.
The family sat down.
Song Dajiang picked up his chopsticks and picked up a piece each for Song Dalin and Song Erlin.
Looking at Fu Bao, who was drooling over the meat, he picked a small piece and placed it in his bowl, then picked another piece for Song Jiayue.
He didn’t eat much, only taking one piece for himself.
He gave the rest to Song Maolin.
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