The winter morning dawned pale and misty, the world outside wrapped in a hush of frost. The bare branches of the courtyard trees were dusted white, their fine outlines glittering faintly as the first weak rays of sunlight slipped through the haze. The air was crisp, carrying the sharp bite of midwinter, the kind that turned each exhale into little clouds of silver breath. From the eaves, a few icicles hung slender and glass-like, catching glimmers of light.
Inside, however, the atmosphere was anything but quiet. The house was alive with warmth and movement, buzzing with an unusual energy that pushed back the cold pressing at the windows. The crackle of firewood from the kitchen stove blended with the steady clatter of pots and pans. From time to time, the faint aroma of steaming porridge and fried buns drifted through the halls, tugging the heart with its homely comfort.
After all, only three days remained before Jia Lan would board the train back to the capital. That thought lingered in everyone's mind, stirring both pride and an undercurrent of reluctance. No one said it aloud, but each family member seemed determined to tuck their love into small, practical tokens things Jia Lan could carry with her as reminders of home.
In the main hall, Jia Lan's mother and sisters-in-law sorted through pieces of clothing, checking hems, adding patches of warmth here and there, muttering about how cold the wind was in the capital. Grandmother sat in her chair, knitting steadily with fine, even strokes, a scarf slowly forming between her needles. In the kitchen, the savory scent of preserved meat and pickled vegetables filled the air as preparations were made for jars of food that could travel well.
Even the men of the family weren't idle. Father Jia was pacing the courtyard, checking baskets and bundles, while her brothers debated which snacks or dried goods would be light enough for her to carry yet filling enough to sustain her during long study nights. From one corner of the house to another, laughter, chatter, and the sound of bustling footsteps intertwined, creating a scene of tender chaos.
And at the heart of it all was Jia Lan the young girl for whom everyone moved with such energy and care.
Jia Lan stretched lazily beneath her thick quilt, curling up like a pampered cat before finally letting out a soft sigh. The quilt was heavy and warm, its cotton-stuffed layers holding the heat so well that she almost felt like staying in bed the entire day. Outside, faint rooster calls and the muffled chatter of neighbors drifted in through the frosted window, reminding her that the world had long since woken up. Still, she nestled deeper for a moment, savoring the last traces of warmth.
But duty and the thought of delicious breakfast smells wafting faintly from the kitchen won out. With a small groan, Jia Lan pushed herself upright, her hair slightly messy, a few strands falling over her cheeks. The wooden floor beneath her bare feet was icy cold, sending a sharp shiver up her spine and making her scurry quickly to find her cotton slippers.
She padded across the room to the washstand, the porcelain basin already filled with water her mother must have set out earlier. One look at the pale film of ice forming at the edges of the water made her hesitate. But she puffed up her cheeks, rolled her sleeves, and bravely splashed her face. The shock of cold hit her like a thousand tiny needles, and she let out a sharp squeak. "Aiyo, so cold!" she muttered to herself, shivering as droplets rolled down her neck.
Still, the familiar rhythm of her morning routine steadied her. She brushed her teeth carefully, humming under her breath, then dipped a towel in the cold water to wipe her face clean. By the time she reached for her little jar of skincare cream, her cheeks were tingling red from the chill. With practiced movements, she dabbed the cream onto her face, gently massaging it into her skin until it felt soft and refreshed.
Feeling more awake, Jia Lan changed into her clothes for the day. She tugged on a quilted cotton jacket embroidered with faint floral patterns her mother's handiwork and a pair of woolen trousers that kept her legs snug against the cold. When she slipped her hands into the sleeves, she sighed in comfort, feeling the warmth wrap around her. A soft scarf was looped around her neck, its faint scent of laundry soap still lingering. Her reflection in the small bronze mirror showed flushed cheeks and slightly glossy lips from the cold, making her look even more youthful and spirited.
She stamped her feet lightly, adjusting her warm boots, and prepared to head out. The faint aroma of fried dough, pickled vegetables, and freshly steamed buns was drifting in from the kitchen now, making her stomach rumble in anticipation.
Today, Jia Lan had her own little plan she was going to the market. It was the perfect excuse to bring out some of the harvest from her planting space, the vegetables and fruits she had secretly stored away in her warehouse. She wanted her family to enjoy them, too, but she couldn't very well make food appear out of thin air. If she brought them back from the market, it would be a perfect explanation. With a basket in hand and a smile on her lips, she was already imagining how her grandmother would nod approvingly and her mother would beam at the fresh produce.
By the time she entered the dining hall, the whole family was already gathered around the long wooden table. The air was filled with the scent of fried dough sticks and warm porridge, a homey fragrance that instantly lifted her spirits. Steam rose in delicate wisps from bowls of golden millet porridge, a neat stack of crispy fried dough sticks sat proudly in the middle of the table, and there was even a small dish of crunchy pickled radish glistening with chili oil.
"Ah, our Lan Lan finally woke up," her eldest brother, Jia Zhe, teased, his voice carrying the same warmth as the rising steam. He stretched out his hand toward the fried dough sticks.
Mother Jia was quicker, smacking his hand lightly with the serving spoon. "You! Always trying to snatch food before others. Don't tease your sister she's been helping out every single day."
Jia Lan giggled, pulling out her chair. "Brother, you'll never change. Always stealing food like a naughty boy."
"Who's stealing? I'm just taste-testing for safety." Jia Zhe puffed up proudly, earning a round of laughter from the table.
Grandmother, sitting at the head of the table with her gray hair neatly coiled into a bun, looked at Jia Lan with eyes full of love. "Eat more, child. The weather's cold, and if you're going to the market, you'll need strength."
"Yes, Grandma," Jia Lan replied sweetly, carefully spooning porridge into her bowl. She blew on it gently before taking a sip, the warm grain sliding down her throat and spreading a pleasant heat through her belly. "I'll go see if there's anything useful for the trip back. Maybe I'll find something special to bring along."
Second Brother Jia Wei leaned on one elbow, smirking. "Bring me back some candied hawthorn, will you? The red shiny ones. They remind me of childhood."
"Greedy," Xu Li, the eldest sister-in-law, scolded lightly. She adjusted her elegant cheongsam-style padded jacket, then smiled at Jia Lan. "Don't listen to him too much, Lan Lan. But if you really see some… maybe buy a few. The children at home will like them too."
"I'll see what I can do," Jia Lan said, her eyes twinkling. She already knew she had sweeter, fresher fruits hidden away in her space, but letting them believe she bought them at the market would make everything easier.
Elder Brother Zhe added, "Don't go bargaining too hard, Lan Lan. The shopkeepers know you're our little miss. They'll be too embarrassed to take your money anyway."
"Then I won't bargain at all," Jia Lan replied cheekily. "But if they try to give me free things, I'll just say it's for you, Elder Brother."
The table erupted in laughter. Even Father Jia, usually quieter at breakfast, chuckled and shook his head. "This girl has become too clever."
The warmth of family chatter filled the chilly morning, weaving through the rising steam and clinking bowls. By the time they finished breakfast, everyone's spirits were lifted, and Jia Lan's heart felt full.
After eating, she bundled herself up carefully. A thick scarf wrapped snugly around her neck, woolen mittens slipped over her hands, and her cotton-padded coat rustled softly as she moved. She adjusted her boots, checked the little cloth purse tied at her waist, and picked up a woven basket.
"Don't stay too long, Lan Lan!" Mother Jia called from the doorway. "And don't let anyone cheat you!"
"Yes, Mother!" Jia Lan replied brightly, stepping into the frosty courtyard where her breath curled like smoke in the air. She tightened her scarf and began her walk toward the market, her heart beating with anticipation not only for the stalls and lively atmosphere, but also for the little plan she was about to put into action.
The town market was bustling despite the bitter cold of winter. Stalls lined the narrow street like a patchwork of colors and smells, the air filled with a mixture of roasted chestnuts, sizzling pancakes, and the earthy aroma of dried herbs. Frost clung to the edges of shop signs, and the vendors stamped their feet near small coal stoves, their breath rising in cloudy puffs as they called out to passing customers.
"Dried beans! Good beans, stored for the whole winter!" one man shouted.
"Pickles, homemade pickles! Crunchy and sour!" cried a woman, lifting a jar high.
"Handmade cloth shoes, warm and durable, don't miss them!" called another.
Jia Lan walked slowly, her boots crunching softly over the thin layer of snow packed into the street. Her eyes darted here and there, not for food or trinkets, but for something far more practical. Then, at the end of a row, she spotted it bamboo baskets, sturdy and wide, stacked neatly in a corner stall.
She approached and picked one up, testing the weave between her fingers. The basket was solid, thick strips of bamboo carefully tied together, strong enough to carry grain or firewood.
The seller, an older man with hands cracked from years of work, looked up and smiled warmly. "Good quality, miss. Made by my own hands. Strong enough to carry a sack of rice, no problem."
"Perfect," Jia Lan said with a polite smile, handing him the coins. She lifted the basket onto her back, adjusting the straps and shifting her shoulders until the weight sat comfortably.
"Fits you well, girl," the old man chuckled. "Good for carrying things home. You'll find it useful."
Jia Lan nodded her thanks and left, her heart beating a little faster now that she had what she needed. She strolled leisurely through the busier streets for a while, pretending to browse stalls of candied fruits and bolts of cloth. To anyone watching, she was just another young woman shopping on a winter's day.
But when she finally found a quiet, hidden corner behind an abandoned shed, she stopped, glanced around carefully, and then tapped into her planting space.
In a blink, the empty basket on her back began to fill with color and life: plump, juicy tomatoes that glistened as if kissed by sunlight, glossy green cucumbers that smelled faintly fresh even in the cold, crisp napa cabbage leaves bundled neatly, and several bunches of leafy greens still dewy. She carefully placed in shiny red apples and golden pears, each one round and fragrant. From another neat stack, she pulled out a small sack of polished white rice, its grains smooth and fine.
The sight of it all made her heart race with excitement. The sheer abundance looked almost surreal against the gray, frozen backdrop of winter. But as soon as she tested the weight on her shoulders, she frowned. The basket was heavy. Carrying it all the way back would look suspicious.
She bit her lip, thinking. I'll only bring back part of it now… and add the rest when I'm close to home. That way, no one will question me.
"Good plan," she murmured under her breath, patting the side of the basket with satisfaction.
To keep up appearances, Jia Lan lingered in the market for another half an hour, idly browsing stalls and buying a few small things some dried plums, a spool of thread, and two sticks of candied hawthorn. When she finally started home, she made sure her steps were slow and natural. Just before reaching her family's courtyard, she ducked behind another quiet corner and added the rest of the harvest to the basket, arranging everything neatly as if it had been purchased.
The courtyard was already lively when she stepped through the gate. Laughter spilled out from inside, mingling with the rhythmic thud of chopping boards and the savory aroma of stewing meat drifting from the kitchen. The sight warmed her heart.
"Lan Lan!" Second Brother Jia Wei spotted her first, his eyes going straight to the large basket on her back. He strode over quickly. "What did you buy? That basket looks full to bursting!"
She set the basket down with a soft grunt, and instantly, a fragrance of fresh vegetables and sweet fruit filled the air. Everyone turned at once.
"Ah! Cucumbers?" Xu Li, the eldest sister-in-law, gasped in shock, crouching to lift one. "In this weather? Look at how green and crisp they are!"
Second Brother's eyes sparkled as he lifted a bright red apple. "Look at these! So big, so red like they've just been picked off the tree!"
"And this...rice too?" Eldest Brother Jia Zhe bent over, lifting the small sack. He weighed it in his hands, impressed. "Not the rough kind either this is polished rice. Lan Lan, you did well."
Mother Jia walked closer, brows raised in amazement. "Lan Lan, where did you find all this? It's the middle of winter. Fresh things like these… they're not easy to get, even if you're willing to spend money."
Jia Lan kept her expression calm, though her palms were clammy. "I… ran into a man at the market. He said he had a greenhouse where he grew vegetables, and the fruits… he said they were from the mountains. He gave me a good deal, so I thought I'd buy some for us. It'll be nice to eat something fresh."
Father Jia exchanged a glance with Mother Jia, then nodded slowly. His eyes softened with approval. "Yes, yes. Nowadays, many people are experimenting with greenhouses. It makes sense. And fruits perhaps he stored them carefully through the season. You were thoughtful to buy them."
"Yes, that must be it," Xu Li agreed quickly, though she was still staring at the cucumbers like they were treasures.
Everyone else seemed convinced, buzzing with excitement as they handled the produce, but Grandfather and Grandmother only exchanged a subtle glance. Their wrinkled eyes lingered a moment longer on Jia Lan before soft smiles curved their lips. They had seen too much of the world not to notice something unusual, but wisely, they said nothing.
Jia Lan felt relief wash over her like warm tea. Thank goodness they believe me.
Soon, the kitchen was alive with activity. Jia Zhe and Jia Wei carried the vegetables and rice to the kitchen, their voices loud with excitement. Xu Li and Yao Jing quickly washed the apples and pears, placing them in bowls and passing them around.
Jia Wei took a big bite of an apple and groaned dramatically. "Ah, this is too good. Sweet, crisp, juicy! Better than anything I've had all winter."
Xu Li laughed, biting into her pear. "Careful, you'll finish them all before dinner. Save some for the other."
Mother Jia smiled as she chewed slowly. "Lan Lan, you did well today. These are truly wonderful."
"Here, Sister, take this one," Yao Jing said warmly, pushing an apple toward Jia Lan. "You should eat the best one you found them after all."
Jia Lan grinned, taking a bite of the apple. The sweetness burst across her tongue, and though she had eaten countless fruits from her space before, it somehow tasted better now, shared in this cozy courtyard with her family.
Laughter, gossip, and chatter filled the room, the bright fruits and vegetables like a splash of spring against the frozen winter day. And in the warmth of it all, Jia Lan felt her heart settle with quiet joy.