Simple and cozy days passed by like this.
Yun Tangyin was awakened in the early morning by the soft sound of bamboo strips clattering together.
When she opened her eyes, the morning light was shining through the window and falling on Fu Yucheng's back. He was sitting on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) weaving bamboo strips, his fingers flying across the paper as the bamboo strips curved into gentle arcs.
"Awake?" He turned around and smiled, his eyelashes glistening with morning light. "I wove a little bamboo basket; it'll be perfect for your sewing kit."
The basket is decorated with small floral patterns along its rim and has a red rope wrapped around its handle.
Yun Tangyin propped herself up to sit up, and was about to take it when he pressed her hand down: "Don't touch the cold bamboo when you've just woken up. I'll warm it up before giving it to you."
He slipped a hot water bottle into her hand. "It's filled with new cotton from Aunt Zhou. It's warmer than a military overcoat."
"Why are you up so early?" she asked with a smile, touching the hot water bottle. "The old Chinese medicine doctor said you need to rest enough."
"I wanted to give you a surprise." Fu Yucheng tucked the bamboo basket into the quilt. "Once it's warmed up, I'll put some osmanthus cake inside for you."
In the morning, Yun Tangyin sat on the veranda embroidering her pencil case, while Fu Yucheng squatted in the courtyard carving patterns on a bamboo jewelry box.
The carving knife moved across the bamboo surface, quickly revealing a half-open plum blossom. "Look how round these petals are!"
He held it up and asked, "Is it fatter than the flowers on the handkerchief you embroidered?"
Yun Tangyin looked up and glanced at her: "Carve another curve, like it's been blown askew by the wind, it'll be more lively."
She suddenly popped a preserved plum into his mouth. "Sour? To wake you up."
Fu Yucheng squinted at the sourness, but nodded repeatedly: "It's just the right amount of sourness, milder than the vinegar in the army."
He suddenly leaned over and pinched her cheek with his fingers covered in bamboo shavings. "Aren't you afraid of the sourness?"
"I'm pregnant..." Yun Tangyin suddenly covered her mouth, her face turning bright red.
The carving knife in Fu Yucheng's hand clattered to the ground. He grabbed her wrist: "What did you say?"
"N-nothing," she said, hiding behind a pillar. "I just mean I've always loved sour things."
Fu Yucheng persisted, wrapping his arms around her from behind: "I heard you. You said two words and then stopped. Are you pregnant?"
His voice trembled as he rested his chin on the top of her head, "Yinyin, isn't it?"
Yun Tangyin was so tight that she could hardly breathe, so she could only nod: "The old Chinese medicine doctor took my pulse yesterday and said so. I was planning to tell you after I finished making the jewelry box."
Fu Yucheng suddenly picked her up and spun her around three times in the yard, covering her in bamboo shavings. "I'm going to be a dad!"
He suddenly remembered something and gently put her down again. "The old Chinese medicine doctor said we shouldn't be jostled around. How could I forget!"
Yun Tangyin laughed and punched him: "You were just saying you were thoughtful, but you've already made a mistake."
At noon, Fu Yucheng killed an old hen and squatted in the kitchen, clumsily making soup.
Yun Tangyin peered through the door frame and said, "Too much ginger was added. The old Chinese medicine doctor said pregnant women should eat less spicy food."
"Oh right." He quickly picked up the ginger slices, his fingers burning as he shook them. "The army doesn't need to be so particular about cooking. They just throw in chili peppers when stewing meat."
Yun Tangyin took his hand from behind: "I'll do it, you go and apply varnish to the jewelry box."
"No." Fu Yucheng pushed her out of the kitchen. "The fumes are too strong. Go and rest on the kang (heated brick bed). I can manage."
The soup turned out dark and murky. When he brought it to the kang (a heated brick bed), he looked dejected. “It looks like diesel fuel from the army. Don’t drink it.”
Yun Tangyin scooped up a spoonful and tasted it: "It's more fragrant than the soup in the cafeteria. I like it."
She fed him a bite, saying, "See, it's not bad."
In the afternoon, Fu Yuanshan came to deliver a bamboo baby bathtub. Seeing Fu Yucheng massaging Yun Tangyin's legs, he laughed and said, "She's only just been born and he's already spoiling her rotten. What will happen when she's born? They'll be able to pluck the moon from the sky!"
The bottom of the bathtub is woven with a non-slip diamond pattern. Fu Yuanshan put a piece of velvet inside. "I added a layer of bamboo strips, making it more durable than a wooden tub. It can be used until the child can run."
Fu Yucheng suddenly stood up: "I'll go cut the straightest bamboo."
"What's the rush?" Yun Tangyin pulled him back. "The old Chinese medicine doctor said that you should rest for the first three months and not do anything reckless."
She slipped a chicken leg from the chicken soup into Fu Yuanshan's hand, saying, "Second Brother, try this. It's Acheng's first time making soup."
In the evening, Song Yushuang returned carrying a bamboo basket containing some dried goji berries and red dates.
“I heard the good news from Yuanshan.” She stuffed a cloth bag into Yun Tangyin’s hand. “This is a silver bracelet I wore when I was young. I’m keeping it for the child to calm her nerves.”
A small lotus flower was engraved on the inside of the bracelet. Yun Tangyin touched it; it felt very smooth and warm.
"Mom, this is too much trouble." Fu Yucheng put some brown sugar into the bamboo basket. "Take this home and make some water with it."
"Don't be so polite with me." Song Yushuang patted his arm and carefully instructed, "Make sure Yinyin is covered up warmly at night, so her belly doesn't get cold."
Lying on the kang (a heated brick bed) at night, Yun Tangyin touched her slightly protruding belly and smiled: "Do you think he will look like you or like me?"
“Like you.” Fu Yucheng placed a small bamboo cushion behind her back, which he had just woven. “Like you, with skillful hands, able to embroider a flying tiger.”
“I wish I were like you.” She snuggled closer to him. “You have a kind of resilience, like bamboo, which can’t be bent no matter what.”
Fu Yucheng lowered his head and kissed her forehead: "Tomorrow I'll ask the army for a long leave to stay home with you. If they don't approve it, I'll dismantle his bamboo bookshelf and rebuild it."
"Stop fooling around." Yun Tangyin pinched his ear. "I'm doing fine at home. My eldest sister-in-law and second sister-in-law are taking care of me. I'm embroidering my little clothes, and life is still sweet."
The bamboo shadows outside the window sway gently on the wall, like someone quietly swinging on a swing.
Fu Yucheng counted Yun Tangyin's breaths, then suddenly remembered something and slipped something into her hand: "Here, osmanthus cake."
The osmanthus cake in the bamboo basket was still warm. Yun Tangyin took a bite, her eyes shining with sweetness. "Sweeter than brown sugar cake."
She put a piece in his mouth, saying, "You should try some too."
Fu Yucheng smiled through his mouth and mumbled, "From now on, I'll weave bamboo baskets for you every day and fill them with osmanthus cakes for you every day, until our hair turns white."
Yun Tangyin didn't say anything, but just leaned closer to him.
The moonlight fell on their clasped hands, like scattered silver fragments, so gentle it could melt away.
When Yun Tangyin woke up, she found that Fu Yucheng had been sitting against the headboard for who knows how long.
She suddenly leaned against his arm. "Why did you wake up so early?"
"I can't sleep." Fu Yucheng hugged Yun Tangyin. "I keep thinking about what the baby will look like, and whether he will be as good-looking as you."
He slipped a hot egg into her hand. "Eat this to replenish your qi and blood. I kept it warm in the stove."
In the morning, Yun Tangyin sat in the courtyard basking in the sun, embroidering a baby bib in her hands.
Fu Yucheng squatted down beside him, weaving a small bamboo cradle, the bamboo strips bending into beautiful arcs in his hands.
"Do you think the spacing between these railings is okay?" He held it up to measure. "It can't be too wide, or the child might get their hand stuck."
She suddenly burst out laughing, "Erzhuzi just came to climb over the wall, saying he wanted to be the little brother's teacher and teach him how to weave bamboo dragonflies."
“He can’t even weave a perfect circle himself.” Fu Yucheng lowered his head and whittled bamboo strips. “Yesterday, the dragonfly he wove had wings that were different lengths, and he said it was intentional, called ‘The Dragonfly That Can’t Fly Straight.’”
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