Transmigrated Family C13

Chapter 13: Old Yan Bought an Ox Cart!

The return trip was faster than the journey there.

Yan Lao’er didn’t dare to interrupt the entire way and only listened as his eldest nephew was bombarded with Old Yan’s various questions. It all sounded quite difficult—full of classical phrases—so much so that his nephew was sweating profusely and struggling to respond fluently.

As someone who had never been good at studying, Yan Lao’er found it easy to stay calm in these situations.

If he didn’t understand, he simply didn’t care.

When they got home, Yan Lao’er unloaded their things and went to look for his wife.

He needed to visit Physician Cui’s house for a pulse check—he had been thinking about it all day.

What was Li Xuemei up to?

She was busy drying things with Da’ya, especially winter necessities like cotton quilts, padded clothes, and bedding. They couldn’t be washed without water, but airing them out and giving them a few pats was still possible.

They also checked for moth damage or mouse bites and mended anything that needed it.

Li Xuemei had realized that Da’ya couldn’t be left idle. The moment she had nothing to do, her mind would wander, lost in melancholy thoughts.

It was much better to keep her busy with chores—keeping her hands and feet occupied was good for her.

Meanwhile, the wheat harvest at home was progressing quickly, with cartloads being brought back one after another. They had to pause now and then to greet the workers and pour them some water before spreading the bundled wheat out to dry thoroughly.

Under the blazing sun, both of them were soon drenched in sweat, their faces flushed red.

When Yan Lao’er found his wife, he saw Li Xuemei looking like she had just been pulled out of a steaming basket.

“I’ll do it! I’ll do it!”

His heart ached for her. A young face like hers should be carefully maintained—how could she just stand there roasting in the sun like this?

He grabbed the wooden stick and started whacking the quilts. Dust rose in rings as he worked.

Li Xuemei turned away, dodging the dust, and punched him.

“Watch where you’re aiming!” She nearly got dust in her eyes.

“Is there food for lunch?” Yan Lao’er asked quietly.

He was starving! His elder brother hadn’t even thought to buy them something to snack on.

“There is, it’s in the pot,” Li Xuemei said with amusement, looking at his desperate expression.

“What is it?” He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he couldn’t help feeling a little excited—what if it wasn’t just coarse grain pancakes?

“You’re in for a treat today—we’re having thin porridge.”

The moment she finished speaking, Yan Lao’er turned and ran off. “I’ll go take a look.”

He wasn’t being greedy—he just wanted to see what ancient-era thin porridge looked like.

When he entered the kitchen and saw the pot of watery gruel, he was stunned.

This… was porridge?

No wonder his wife had specifically called it “thin porridge”—it was really thin.

Did they expect him to drink this like medicine?

—

“Dad!” A weak voice came from behind him. “Can you move aside?”

Yan Yu understood her father’s feelings—she felt the same way.

After sending off her father and uncle in the morning, she had spent the day digging up worms to feed the chickens. The hens at home had become so familiar with her that the moment she approached, they would start clucking and shaking their little heads wildly, unsure which eye to use to track her movements.

Her efforts paid off—two of the hens she had been feeding laid eggs.

Seizing the opportunity while Da’ya was busy with chores, she stealthily grabbed the still-warm eggs, hiding one in her room and placing the other in the kitchen’s egg basket.

With her plan successfully completed, she returned to her unfinished task from yesterday—washing her parents’ clothes.

She dunked the clothes in plant ash, gave them a few shakes, and pulled them out. The dust scattered away.

“Huh? It really doesn’t smell as bad anymore!”

Excited, she got busy, treating all the family’s laundry the same way. Though there weren’t many clothes, seeing them pile up gave her a strong sense of accomplishment.

This was the natural farm-style laundry method!

Just as she was about to head out to play with the village kids, an ominous feeling struck her belly.

Yan Yu bolted to the latrine.

It had been days—this was the first time she had felt the urge.

If it hadn’t happened soon, she would’ve thought she was sick.

Squatting over the pit, she strained with all her might.

But…

The food was too dry!

In the end, it took everything she had to get back on her feet, her calves trembling.

Coarse grain pancakes, I will never forgive you!

What made her even more embarrassed was the cleanup issue.

Bamboo strips or dry grass—those were her choices.

If it were you, which would you pick?

Her mother was right—they needed to solve their most urgent problems first.

At that moment, Yan Yu was absolutely certain: Toilet paper was their most, most, most urgent need!

—

After secretly reporting her struggle to her mother, Da’ya took action as if it were a life-or-death crisis. She boiled a large pot of thin porridge.

Yan Yu gulped down a bowl. The rice flavor was faint, but in the current weather, porridge—especially thin porridge—was actually quite refreshing.

But after a while, her opinion changed.

Thin porridge was just too unfulfilling!

She was hungry again in no time and kept running to the latrine.

And every trip to the latrine was a battle.

She had never won a single one!

So when she returned to the kitchen, it was to seek out her nemesis—coarse grain pancakes.

Hearing his daughter’s experience, Yan Lao’er took a solemn moment to reflect on the two recent meals.

Coarse grain pancakes vs. thin porridge…

I hereby declare you equals!

At this moment, Yan Lao’er also realized the importance of hygiene.

After all, he was the one who had put the dry grass and leaves in the latrine.

Li Xuemei, worried about her daughter, came over to check on her.

After confirming she felt fine, aside from a bit of dryness, she sighed. Their diet was unbalanced—no wonder their daughter’s little body couldn’t handle it. Even she, as an adult, was struggling.

Although she wasn’t constantly running to the latrine like her daughter, she wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or concerned.

—

“Oh, by the way, help me check what’s on this list so we don’t get anything mixed up,” Yan Lao’er said, pulling out the receipt Old Yan had given him.

“Brown rice, coarse salt, cotton, tung oil, hemp rope, iron pot, candles… ox cart?” Li Xuemei read aloud, unfazed by the traditional characters.

When she reached “ox cart,” the whole family’s eyes widened.

“An ox cart?”

“Four-year-old yellow ox, height: 4 feet 7 inches, length: 5 feet 3 inches, with a cart frame. Total price: 28 taels of silver,” Yan Yu quickly read from the paper.

“Hiss! A single ox costs 28 taels?!” Yan Lao’er’s voice went up an octave.

Just thinking about the 20 taels of gambling debt that had nearly crushed him made him feel suffocated—this ox was worth even more!

“It’s not just the ox—there’s a cart included. The total is 28 taels,” Yan Yu explained. “Cart frames aren’t easy to make. They need good wood, or they won’t be sturdy enough. The wheels have to be carefully crafted by hand, which takes a long time. The size also has to be customized to fit the ox. As for the ox itself, it’s four years old—just fully grown and will last a long time.”

Yan Lao’er looked at his daughter. “How do you know all this?”

Yan Yu stole a glance at her mother. How else? From books, of course.

“Fifty taels… After spending 28, that leaves only 22. No wonder they bought the cheapest goods,” Yan Lao’er muttered.

Brown rice, coarse salt…

Sigh. Life is hard.

—

Old Yan: “I’ve just recovered from a serious illness—I need an ox cart! Buy, buy, buy!”

Yan Lao’er: “If we cut costs any further, our family might as well stop using the latrine altogether!”