Chapter 13: The Embrace of Life (Part 1)

Thunder flashed and lightning crackled through the night, torrential rain pouring down until morning, when it finally eased to a fine drizzle, leaving the world remarkably fresh.

Li Sanniang sat at home waiting for Broker Chen, thinking that with this endless rain, who knew if the two matters of buying and renting a house could be settled this morning.

The pattering rain didn't stop until after lunch.

Well, that settled it—nothing happening today. At midday, Broker Chen sent word that the owner of the second house was in the outer city, and with the rain making travel inconvenient, they'd agreed to handle the paperwork tomorrow.

But as soon as the rain stopped, Li Sanniang went to a household in the neighboring lane and spent ten copper coins to bring back a month-old native puppy.

Right—last time she'd thought little Luzhu had no one to play with, so wouldn't a puppy be perfect company?

Li Sanniang had heard from Big Sister-in-law Li that this household's bitch had whelped eight or nine puppies. The owner really couldn't raise them all, and they weren't the fashionable hunting hounds that wealthy families prized, nor the long-haired lion dogs that noble ladies loved—just big, honest native yellow dogs raised to guard the courtyard. That's why she only paid ten coppers to take one home.

The puppy she brought back was earth-yellow, its little tail curled up, stumbling around people's feet in the most adorable way imaginable!

Little Luzhu was overjoyed the moment she saw it! She could barely walk steadily herself, yet insisted on holding the puppy. Li Sanniang was terrified she'd drop the dog, then fall herself.

In the end, she temporarily used an old woven grass mat from her room as the puppy's bed, found a chipped porcelain bowl for its food, and settled it under the jujube tree.

She thought she'd later go to the carpenter and have him make a little house from scrap wood for a proper doghouse, and make a pad from old clothes—that would be much more comfortable.

Originally she'd planned to take Luzhu and Big Sister-in-law Li to the gold and silver shop that afternoon to buy a full-month gift for Little Wulang, but the puppy had stolen all of Luzhu's attention. She decided to stay home with the puppy and let Li Sanniang go alone.

"Mother, the puppy just got here. Zhu'er will keep him company first. Next time Zhu'er will go to the shop with Mother."

"Good, good, Mother's good big boy. Be good at home."

"Zhu'er will be good! Puppy will be good too!"

Haha, watching little Luzhu smoothing the short-haired native puppy's fur was truly hilarious. Li Sanniang couldn't help but laugh out loud.

In the end, it was Big Sister-in-law Li and Li Sanniang who went out together.

This trip, Li Sanniang's primary goal was to buy cotton—yes, cotton. Though right now it wasn't called cotton, but "white pile." Previously, wealthy families had cultivated it as an ornamental flower.

Later, when Emperor Wu ascended the throne and waged campaigns north and south, winter clothing was needed to withstand the severe cold, and this plant was rediscovered. The native plant called "kapok" didn't have nearly the same warming effect.

But it had only just begun to be cultivated artificially, and was still quite expensive—supplied to the military first, then wealthy families, with only a trickle reaching common folk.

So if the price was too high or she couldn't buy any, Li Sanniang would have to settle for kapok to make menstrual belts.

Following Big Sister-in-law Li, they first went to a cloth shop. A female shopkeeper stood on the raised platform, plump and beautiful.

After inquiring, there was no cotton in stock. If she wanted some, she'd have to pre-order, and it would take two or three months to arrive—and it wouldn't be cheap.

Li Sanniang gave up on that and asked about kapok instead.

"Shopkeeper, do you have kapok?"

"Kapok we have—just harvested this past May, seeds removed and sun-dried. Would the lady like to take a look?"

The shopkeeper brought out a bundle of kapok from the back room. Li Sanniang felt it—indeed no seeds, thoroughly dried, and quite soft to the touch.

She asked the price: one hundred copper coins for a small bundle. Thinking to make ten or twenty menstrual belts each for herself, Big Sister-in-law Li, and Second Sister-in-law Li, she asked if there was a discount for buying more. In the end, she spent one tael of silver for two large bundles.

Big Sister-in-law Li turned away and asked Li Sanniang what she was buying this for—it was still early to be preparing winter clothes.

Li Sanniang didn't feel embarrassed at all. Modern thinking wasn't something that could change in a month or two, so she just said right in front of the shopkeeper that it was for making menstrual belts.

The shopkeeper was truly a merchant—she didn't even blink at Big Sister-in-law Li turning red from Li Sanniang discussing such private women's matters in public. Instead, she asked with interest how Li Sanniang planned to make them.

Li Sanniang explained how she disliked the traditional method of reusing plant-ash menstrual belts, and wanted to replace them with cotton—making them wider, changing them more frequently, keeping cleaner with less odor and better mobility.

The shopkeeper nodded in approval, though she noted it would use more material.

Li Sanniang said: "Women's matters—how can they be simple? This is something to take seriously, and can reduce gynecological illnesses."

The shopkeeper didn't doubt her. After all, living in the same ward, she knew this was a daughter from the medical hall and herbal pharmacy family—a woman who could diagnose and prescribe, not comparable to ordinary women. Li Sanniang had shown real talent in her youth, often brought by her father to the medical hall to observe consultations.

It was only in the three or four years since her marriage that this reputation had gradually faded.

Hearing that Li Sanniang wanted to make new menstrual belts, the shopkeeper recommended a slightly yellowish, undyed fabric suitable for undergarments. Li Sanniang liked it, and the price wasn't too high, so she bought half a bolt to share with her two sisters-in-law.

Then, on the shopkeeper's recommendation, she bought a piece of pretty pale green fabric, thinking it would make a beautiful little ruqun for Luzhu.

Big Sister-in-law Li only bought three bolts of dark blue hemp cloth—for Father Li, Big Brother Li, and Second Brother Li. She carefully planned to make each a presentable outfit for receiving guests, since the last ones had faded and lost their luster.

Of course, Big Sister-in-law Li used household funds, while Li Sanniang used her own private savings.

In the end, the shopkeeper not only offered free delivery but also gifted scholar's headwraps and women's hairbands—making them feel their money was well spent and ensuring they'd return.

They spent over half a double-hour in the cloth shop before finally reaching the main event of today's outing: the gold and silver shop!

Big Sister-in-law Li and Li Sanniang discussed having one family buy a longevity lock, the other a pair of protective bracelets.

This was local custom: when a child was born, at the full-month celebration, relatives would gift a longevity lock—symbolizing long life and peace. Protective bracelets were a pair of small silver bracelets with auspicious patterns, worn by children to ward off evil and ensure safety.

At the gold and silver shop, a man not yet old and without a beard tended the counter. But merchants all have silver tongues—this shopkeeper spoke so eloquently that if her purse weren't so light, Li Sanniang would have wanted to buy jewelry for every family member.

Li Sanniang and Big Sister-in-law Li were dazzled by the choices, finally selecting patterns they found particularly beautiful.

Seeing it was still early, Li Sanniang suggested going to Xianggui Teahouse to buy some pastries and candies—one, to give the children a sweet treat; two, to have on hand for unexpected guests.

Alright, honestly, Li Sanniang just had a craving and wanted to see what new items they had.

Xianggui Teahouse truly was an old-established brand. Mother Li had said that when she was little and first came to Chang'an, her father had bought her candy from Xianggui Teahouse. That sweet taste was something Mother Li still reminisced about to this day.

Upon entering, a row of tall counters greeted them—five or six young clerks busy at work: fetching pastries, weighing them, packaging, calculating, collecting payment—a complete assembly line that made one appreciate why it was an old-established brand.

After all, most small shops were lucky to have one or two clerks. Many tiny shops had the shopkeeper doing everything alone—greeting customers, packaging, collecting payment, and seeing them out.

Besides these clerks, Xianggui Teahouse had two small tables and four stools set to the side, with a clerk attending them. Clean white porcelain plates sat on the tables.

Asking a clerk revealed these were tasting seats for pastries and candies. Customers with children who found shopping inconvenient could leave their child there with a piece of maltose to eat, the clerk watching over them. This let the parent seriously select goods without worrying about the child wandering off—truly thoughtful.

Though ordinary people felt awkward just leaving their child there. Mostly it was wealthy ladies with entourages who bought dozens of taels worth at a time.

Li Sanniang was dazzled—the variety of pastries and candies was overwhelming. Common ones included jujube flower shortcake, red bean cake, mung bean cake, osmanthus cake, almond cake, and so on. There were also "hu bing" commonly sold by Western Market Hu merchants—actually flatbreads baked in a clay oven with white sesame seeds, both sweet and savory varieties.

Candy varieties were fewer: maltose, red rock sugar, and malt sugar, shaped into various forms. White sugar didn't exist yet—if Li Sanniang knew how to refine red rock sugar into white sugar, she could make a fortune.

Seeing this, she really had that thought. She'd read in novels before about a similar plot—seemed like yellow clay water could do it. She could try experimenting later when she had the chance.

Xianggui Teahouse spared no expense. While Li Sanniang and Second Sister-in-law Li were selecting, the clerks not only introduced items but even offered samples—though they were clearly the cheaper varieties, it was still impressive. No wonder they'd become an old-established brand; their business methods were truly systematic.

Just as the sisters-in-law were discussing what to buy, a sharp scream came from the tasting area. A nanny accompanying a lady who had just arrived with a small child had stuck her finger into the child's mouth, seemingly trying to dig something out.

The lady who appeared to be the child's mother heard the scream and rushed over. From what Li Sanniang could gather, the child had eaten a piece of sugar candy the nanny fed him. Part of it had dissolved without being chewed, and had slipped directly into his airway, blocking it.

The mother frantically tried to dig the sugar from the child's throat, panic-stricken at the child's suffering, tears streaming down her face.

The attending clerk was terrified. Another clerk ran to the back to fetch the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper didn't know what to do either, just saying to rush to the medical hall on the nearest street—don't wait until the child suffocates beyond saving.

Watching this, Li Sanniang made a split-second decision. She stepped forward and said to the mother: "Madam, I know some medicine. I see your little son has a sugar candy blocking his airway. Rushing to the medical hall may not be in time. Let me try—I have a method to remove the candy."

Seeing the child's face turning purple from suffocation, the mother nodded vigorously in agreement. With permission granted, Li Sanniang immediately took action.

Sorry, it's quite late today—I got off work too late. This corporate slave can't take it.

Thanks to Huaizhun1 for the 8th time voting 5 recommendation tickets. Thank you.

(End of chapter)