Thirty-five oxen

After finishing evening prayers and bidding farewell to young Andre, Qingchen Wu stepped out of the church. He glanced casually at the spot by the church’s side door where the sun had rested during the day. Unlike usual, he did not head home straight away. By now, dusk had already begun to fall, but the wooden houses lining the road showed none of the familiar plumes of smoke rising from their chimneys. Now that the days of summer labor had begun, most of the housewives had their own share of work; from this day forward, dinner for the entire village of Eckley would be postponed by quite some time.

With this rare leisure, Qingchen Wu slipped once more into his secret kitchen. Over an hour passed before he finally left the woods at the sound of the bell signaling the end of the day’s labors and made his way along the path.

Returning to the cabin, he found that Old William, Jacqueline, and his two elder brothers, all engaged in servitude, had not yet come home. Only the two little ones were rolling about inside, and little Nina was busy preparing supper.

It was already about the time they usually went to bed, and Qingchen Wu, feeling a bit weary, climbed up onto his straw and timber bed and soon drifted into sleep.

He did not know how much time had passed when he was gently shaken awake. Opening his eyes, he saw his mother, Jacqueline, gazing at him with concern from beside the bed.

“Los, wake up, it’s time to eat.”

“Hmm?... Ah.”

Qingchen Wu sat up, rubbing his eyes. His father and brothers had returned, and were gathered around the dark wooden table a few meters away while little Nina was setting down the last large bowl filled with green gruel.

“Awake?” His father Old William’s voice was distinctly hoarse. At the table, Idra and Grace barely lifted their eyelids at Qingchen Wu’s arrival, quickly bowing their heads again, breathing heavily with half-closed eyes. Their arms and legs trembled occasionally.

He did not need to see more; Qingchen Wu already understood just how exhausting the summer farm labor was.

As always, it was his mother who apportioned the food. Much as with the midday meal, Old William and Idra soon had in front of them double portions of peas, green soup, gruel, a chunk of cheese, and a boiled egg. Grace’s usual share was also doubled, with a slightly smaller piece of cheese.

His mother soon came to Qingchen Wu.

Huh?

Half a minute later, Qingchen Wu cried out in surprise.

Beside the double portions of peas, green soup, and gruel, there was also a generous piece of cheese in front of him… and a steaming boiled egg.

“Mother?” Qingchen Wu looked up, puzzled.

“Eat, you worked hard today too.” Jacqueline’s answer was a gentle smile.

Was this thanks to the priest’s goodwill? Or a reward for finishing the work left on the eastern side of the village?

Qingchen Wu was still uncertain.

But in the end, the reason did not matter.

Gazing at the steaming green soup and egg before him, Qingchen Wu reached instinctively to touch his belly.

This gesture, however, had nothing to do with hunger.

Before coming home, he had stopped by the village’s wooden bridge and, while sorting ingredients in his second secret kitchen, managed to catch a rabbit and three fat fish, filling himself up well in advance. Now, he had not the slightest appetite.

Of all the times for an extra meal...

He sat dazed for half a minute, watching his father and brothers wolf down their food on either side, and finally, brow furrowed in distress, forced down the peas and green soup before him.

As for the rest—the wizard’s gruel, the unappetizing cheese, the saltless boiled egg—Qingchen Wu tilted his head ever so slightly, his gaze naturally falling on little Nina, who had already finished her meager share and was now focused, mouth watering, on the remaining food.

“Nina…”

“Brother Los!” As soon as he began to speak, little Nina beamed and darted to his side.

“Ahem… these, you can have them…” Qingchen Wu gestured at the leftover food—more burden than meal.

“Thank you, brother!” Nina nodded eagerly, already reaching for the egg.

“Los, you…”

Watching all this, his father frowned, lips moving as if to speak, but in the end said nothing, only sighing softly.

“It’s fine, Father, I’m already full.” Patting his stomach, Qingchen Wu stood up.

After more than twenty days in this medieval world, Qingchen Wu had learned that in his family, once food was distributed, it became private property. Whether one ate it, left it, or gave it away, neither parents nor brothers would interfere. Furthermore, when it came time to divide food again, no one considered the previous meal; portions were set solely by the amount of labor done that day.

Likewise, over these past ten days, Qingchen Wu had given his gruel to little Nina almost every meal. Yet each time, his mother would still serve him a standard half bowl, and no matter how much Nina drooled or how hopefully she gazed, she would never touch Qingchen Wu’s leftovers until he gave her clear permission.

He exhaled softly.

After waiting for Nina to finish eating, Qingchen Wu habitually washed his small wooden bowl, then climbed onto his battered wooden bed, layered with straw, stubble, fleas, and bedbugs, and once again drifted into sleep.

...

The next two or three days in the medieval world passed in a regular rhythm for Qingchen Wu.

He would rise at first light, hurry to the eastern or western fields, and toil away for seven or eight hours. When the second bell for summer labor sounded, he would finish work.

After returning home for the first meal of the day, his parents and brothers would set out for the lord’s demesne to work, while he would either rest, finish up a bit more work in the family fields, or go to the church to listen to the priest’s teachings.

After finishing the day’s lessons, he would slip into his secret kitchen for a hearty meal, then nap at home until his mother woke him.

On the third day of summer labor, in the medieval world, January 27th, Year 0001.

At his third secret kitchen, Qingchen Wu looked at the dozen or so planks spread out before him, and a satisfied smile appeared on his face. After three days of effort, thanks to the leisure provided by summer labor and the priest’s generous loan of sharp tools, he had planed all the planks neatly and coated them with wax made from animal fat. Only a few simple steps remained before he would complete the first man-made beehive of this medieval world.

He was one step closer to the nutrition and health so often emphasized by the staff officers—and at last, he could enjoy sweets in this world too. After double-checking the materials and tools to ensure nothing was missing, his smile grew even broader.

After tidying up his materials and tools and glancing at the sky, Qingchen Wu frowned slightly, left the woods, and hurried down the path home.

He had handled too many materials that day, and spent longer than expected in the storage room. The bell had been ringing for some time before he left the woods, and by the time he finally reached the village, dusk had fallen. Smoke was curling from chimneys everywhere, and most villagers had returned home to start their summer labor suppers.

Crossing two streams and winding around a few bends, his medieval home came into view.

Wait?

As soon as he glimpsed the cabin, Qingchen Wu frowned.

At this hour, rounding the corner, he could always count on seeing little Nina running up to greet him with delight.

But today, the doorway was empty; instead, a faint commotion and muffled sobbing drifted out to meet him.

What had happened?

Qingchen Wu quickened his pace, almost sprinting into the cabin.

Inside, just a few steps away, the dark wooden table was already laden with steaming food, but not a soul sat around it—only a few empty chairs.

No one was eating?

Startled, Qingchen Wu quickly scanned the room and soon spotted his family huddled together on the left side of the cabin.

At the sound of the door, they turned, and in that instant, Qingchen Wu’s unease deepened.

For turning to face him were Idra, his face thunderous; Grace, jaw clenched tight; Old William, full of sorrow; while mother Jacqueline and little Nina stood in the corner, tearstains clearly visible on their faces.

“What… happened?” Qingchen Wu had barely asked before the previously subdued cabin erupted into a fresh storm of noise.

His ears were instantly filled with the simultaneous voices of his parents and brothers—excited, angry, worried—all at once, mixed with the wailing of the two little children, who refused to be left out. Soon, Qingchen Wu was dizzy and overwhelmed, and it took him quite some time to finally understand what had happened.

The matter was, in fact, quite simple.

Their family’s cow—the only large livestock they owned—had been wounded on both sides of its back, leaving several bloody gashes.

The discovery was also straightforward: Due to the summer plowing, all of Eckley’s large livestock had been gathered to work on the lord’s fields these past few days. Qingchen Wu’s family’s cow was no exception, working hard on the lord’s land. In all that time, none of the family had even touched her. Not until it was time to start plowing their own plot did Old William fetch their cow, only to discover the severity of her injuries.

The cause was equally simple. In this medieval world, secrets were scarce. After speaking with the plowman and several neighbors, Old William quickly learned the truth:

The day before yesterday, yesterday, and the day before that, their cow had been perfectly fine. The work on the lord’s fields had not been heavy, and both the plowman and the carter were experienced—she had been well cared for.

The wounds must have occurred that morning, though the exact location was unclear. However, both the plowman, the carter, and several neighbors all confirmed that, miraculously, the village cowherd’s plot had been completely plowed in just a single morning; and though only Qingchen Wu’s family’s cow was injured, several villagers noted that their own animals had seemed listless all afternoon.