Zhao Jiaqi saw the village chief approach with a long, sullen face, knowing he must have heard something from the women.
Smiling, she waved at him, "See? I ate, and I'm fine. This mushroom is truly not poisonous. Do you want some? I made a lot."
He hesitated, then shook his head, "You eat it."
At worst, he'd come to collect her body tomorrow, which would be a pity for such a person.
Why would she do something so foolish, bringing death upon herself!
The next day, as dawn broke, the courtyard was already crowded with people, all craning their necks to peer inside.
The well-meaning villagers wondered if the widow and her child had died. Should they break in and check?
Even Wei Damao from next door stood by his own fence, looking at her yard, his thoughts mirroring the villagers'.
Before he could decide whether to trespass, he heard the sound of her house door opening. She walked out, perfectly fine.
The crowd outside erupted. She wasn't dead?
Old Mrs. Zhao was the first to rush out, scrutinizing her closely. "Oh my, little wife, you're alright!"
"Do you want me to jump a few times to show you?"
Old Mrs. Zhao waved her hands awkwardly, chuckling dryly, "It's good that you're alright. Later, shall we go to the mountain to pick more? Teach us which ones are poisonous and which aren't. We don't have much grain at home, and another food source means one more mouthful of sustenance!"
"We can, but you must listen to me. Otherwise, eating poisonous mushrooms truly means going to see the King of Hell."
Everyone shouted in unison, "We'll listen to you."
For two consecutive days, she patiently taught everyone how to distinguish between poisonous and edible mushrooms. The villagers took it to heart and learned quickly.
And so, ever since they learned, their sweet potatoes and potatoes have been plentiful, though the smell in the bedrooms at night was not exactly pleasant.
In the morning, the village chief took her to see the land. He squatted down, grabbed a handful, and let it trickle through his fingers. It was loose, mixed with sand, typical of sandy soil. While not prime farmland, it was good for cultivating crops and fruits.
"Village chief, this land is suitable for planting sweet potatoes, potatoes, and watermelons. But at this season, only sweet potatoes and watermelons can be planted!"
The village chief squatted at the edge of the field. He felt a sense of helplessness towards Zhao Jiaqi. Once she set her mind to something, even ten oxen couldn't pull her back.
"If you want to plant, then plant. I've said my piece, but no matter what you plant, the harvest won't be good!"
They couldn't afford enough to eat, and yet she talked about watermelons?
Wei Damao shook his head and gave a wry smile. He couldn't be bothered to say anything more.
Zhao Jiaqi didn't care what he thought. She needed a piece of land to practice on!
Looking at the barren land, she dusted off her hands and said, "Village chief, give me ten mu of land. I want to plant. Also, find me some younger laborers. Fifteen wen a day, no meals!"
Wei Damao was shocked, staring at her blankly. "You... do you have any money?"
She wasn't a refugee, so why would she need to hire people?
"Not much. I estimate the money will be spent by the time these ten mu are planted. But we'll have food. We'll keep enough to eat, and sell the rest. Then we'll have money."
Wei Damao wanted to dissuade her, but having learned her ways over these past few days, he gave up.
"Ten mu of land, five long-term workers will be enough. They'll come find you this afternoon."
Not long after he left, four people arrived at the courtyard, all as thin as little chicks. The remaining one was Wei Damao himself.
Zhao Jiaqi laid down the rules for them.
First, they must follow her orders.
Second, they must record how she farmed the land and commit it to memory.
A woman of few words and strong action, they began to till the land that very afternoon, embarking on their farming journey.
While the workers toiled in the fields, she took the child to town to buy sweet potato seeds, carefully selecting satisfactory ones.
Cartloads of sweet potato seeds were transported to the village the next day.
She then found several women and had them cut the tubers and coat them with ash... a series of unusual operations that bewildered these women.
They dared not speak, nor ask, until Old Mrs. Zhao cautiously inquired, "Mrs. Ren, will planting sweet potatoes like this be successful?"
"It will be successful. It's just that we're planting a bit late, which will have some impact, but it's not a big problem. Just work diligently."
As things were progressing with great enthusiasm here, Zhao Jiaqi went to find watermelon seeds. Planting watermelons could lead to winemaking, or selling them. Either way, it would bring in money!
They worked like this for two full months. Both watermelons and sweet potatoes were planted. She meticulously explained to Wei Damao the timing for watering, fertilizing, and the methods of fertilization.
Now, whenever something happened in the village, people rarely sought out the village chief; they went to Zhao Jiaqi instead. She knew and understood many things.
The weather in June was as fickle as a child's face, changing with the rain. Light drizzles began to fall.
In the evening, Zhao Jiaqi tucked the child into bed early. In the middle of the night, her door was pried open. If one didn't listen carefully, the faint sound would be imperceptible.
The person sleeping on the bed suddenly felt a chill on their back and woke up abruptly. Instantly, their mouth was covered, and a familiar scent filled her nostrils. Zhao Jiaqi's wildly pounding heart slowly calmed.
"Why are you here?"
Fan Zehao buried his head in her embrace, playing coy. After a brief, tender moment, he reluctantly let her go and became jealous, "If I didn't come, you would have forgotten me completely."
"You're talking nonsense. Hurry and get dressed. The child is here."
He reluctantly dressed. Then he embraced her again and reported the recent situation, "All the cities have been reclaimed. That old dog Zong Han has surrendered again, saying he'll come in person this time."
"He said he'll come to Yun Country after the rainy season, to foster friendly relations between the two nations. I heard he's even bringing his beloved sister. Even a fool like me can guess his ulterior motives."
Nestled in his arms, Zhao Jiaqi nodded, "I only heard that Zongsheng Country was defeated; I don't know the rest. When will you return?"
"The Emperor's decree is for General Fang to return first. I'll wait here to welcome Zong Han and return to the capital together!"
Zhao Jiaqi snorted, "This is as obvious as a louse on a bald man's head. They're afraid of a trap, so they're keeping you here!"
While she was happy for her husband, she also worried about him. After the war ended, would he face a tragic fate?
They lingered together for a long time. As dawn approached, he had to leave.
Zhao Jiaqi walked him to the courtyard gate. Coincidentally, Wei Damao, who had gone out to relieve himself, witnessed this scene and felt a pang of unease.
So, she wasn't unwilling to find a man; she already had one!
After a long silence, he returned to his own room from the privy only after Zhao Jiaqi had gone back inside.
However, in the days that followed, Wei Damao deliberately avoided Zhao Jiaqi, distancing himself from her and abandoning the humble thoughts he had harbored.
Time flew by, and it was mid-August. The watermelons in the fields had ripened, and they were large, looking very promising.
It was harvest season, and five workers were certainly not enough. Now, they couldn't be picky about strong laborers. Anyone who could carry a load, man or woman, started to help.
The yield from one mu of land reached nearly five thousand catties. This number truly astonished the villagers. No one had expected such a high yield of fruit.