"Oh, it's the Zhuzi at the west end of the village." Sister Hong waved her hand nonchalantly. "His wife's family is in Anshan, and she always likes to brag about having relatives in the city."
She leaned closer to Feng Yulan and lowered her voice, "Ignore him. He even peeked at the widow bathing last year."
The afternoon sun was blazing. Feng Yulan was dozing off behind the counter when she heard a knock on the door. She looked up and saw Doctor Liu standing at the door, his medicine box on his back.
"Come and change Aunt Wang's dressing." He said in a hoarse voice and walked in without waiting to be greeted.
Zhang Shumin was mending socks by the window when she saw Dr. Liu. She deftly removed the bandage, revealing the scabbed wound. "It's healing well. Just three more days of applying the medicine and the stitches can be removed."
He took out a small porcelain bottle from the medicine box and poured out some brown powder. "This is a new one I made. It relieves pain."
Feng Yulan noticed that when Doctor Liu poured the medicine, the silver ring on his little finger flashed in the sunlight, and an inconspicuous little orchid was engraved on the ring face.
Zhang Shumin suddenly asked, "Does Doctor Liu know Lao Ma?"
"Lao Ma?" Doctor Liu paused. "The one who rowed the boat? He used to help me carry mountain products."
"He said you're a good cook." Zhang Shumin stared into his eyes. "You're really as good as they say."
Doctor Liu lowered his head and continued changing the dressing, a smile hidden in his wrinkles: "These days, good skills are not as good as a sweet mouth."
He wrapped the bandage and suddenly pulled out an oil-paper package from the bottom of the medicine box. "Here's some wild honey for you. It's good for external wounds."
When closing the shop in the evening, Sister Hong stuffed a handful of candy into Feng Yulan's pocket and said, "Give Aunt Wang some to try. These are milk candies from Beihuai."
Feng Yulan touched the hard candy in the paper bag, and suddenly remembered the sorghum candy that she could only eat during the Chinese New Year when she was a child. Her throat felt a little tight.
Back in the cabin, Zhang Shumin was washing clothes with stream water.
Feng Yulan remembered what Sister Hong had mentioned about "Old Li" and suddenly asked, "Mom, did you say Sister Hong's husband...was it really a car accident?"
Zhang Shumin paused her hand in the water: "Why do you think of asking this?"
"Nothing... I just think she's a nice person." Feng Yulan placed the candy on the table, the cellophane shimmering in the twilight. "If we could stay here forever..."
"Impossible." Zhang Shumin interrupted her, rubbing her clothes vigorously. "Do you think those people can't find this place? Don't forget the scheduled mail."
The mention of the email made Feng Yulan's chest tighten again. She turned to light the fire, but heard Zhang Shumin whisper behind her, "But... Sister Hong can be trusted for now."
That night, we stewed the beans that Sister Hong gave us on the bonfire. The soup was especially fragrant when soaked with brown rice.
Zhang Shumin drank half a bowl of chicken soup for the first time. Feng Yulan looked at the soft-boiled egg in her bowl and suddenly remembered how Sister Hong fried eggs - she always turned the eggs frequently, saying that this way they would be heated evenly. Just like in life, you have to turn them over frequently to prevent them from burning.
As the moon reached its zenith, the town fell silent. Feng Yulan sat by the window, mending a sock. A spark flickered from the kerosene lamp, and Zhang Shumin suddenly said, "Let's go to the market tomorrow with Sister Hong."
"You agree?" Feng Yulan looked up in surprise.
"Don't be too happy." Zhang Shumin used tweezers to remove the charcoal ash from the wick, and the flame became bright again. "I'll go with you and watch from a distance."
Feng Yulan suddenly smiled. She remembered what Sister Hong had said earlier: "Go to the market early; if you're late you won't be able to buy fresh pork."
She suddenly felt something melting in her chest.
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