It was already afternoon when Chen Wanqing and Zhao Jing returned to the Zhao Village.
They were lucky to have caught Dashan's last ox-cart trip from Qingshui County.
Starting tomorrow until the Lantern Festival, Dashan was also going to take a break and celebrate the New Year at home, so he wouldn't be driving his cart.
The two bid farewell to Dashan and headed home.
Before they even reached their front door, they could smell a rich, meaty aroma wafting from the house.
Inside, meat was stewing on one of the stoves, while a wok half-filled with hot oil sat on the other. Mrs. Zhao and Xiang'er were frying meatballs.
The weather was cold, and it was freezing even standing by the stoves.
Rolling the meatballs required baring one's hands and wrists to the chill, and it was so cold their hands were frozen stiff—cold enough, it felt, to turn their faces blue.
Seeing this, Chen Wanqing quickly sent Xiang'er to tend the fire while she rolled up her own sleeves, ready to help.
