After fleeing the famine, my older sister and I married the brother next door.

It was a late-blooming morning in the twelfth lunar month. As soon as a faint, gray light shone through the paper windows of the east wing, Su Xiaoyin and Su Xiaoqing were already sitting on the edge of the kang (heated brick bed). The kang table had been moved to the brightest spot by the window, where a nearly half-person-high embroidery of Guanyin was stretched on a sturdy frame, taking up a significant portion of the table. The charcoal outline had already been mostly covered by colorful silk threads; Guanyin's compassionate face, flowing robes, and the innocent figure of the child in her arms were clearly visible, with only the auspicious clouds and lotus throne in the background and some minor details still to be filled in.

A small charcoal brazier burned inside, radiating a faint warmth. Su Xiaoqing breathed on her slightly frozen fingers, picked up an extremely fine silver needle, threaded it with pale gold silk, and prepared to outline the final necklace pattern on Guanyin's robe. She whispered, "Sister, let's work harder and try to finish this Guanyin embroidery as soon as possible, and send it to the embroidery workshop before the New Year. If it can sell for more than ten taels of silver like the 'Hundred Blessings' embroidery last time, it will be close enough to cover the cost of buying the barren mountain valley and the wasteland at the foot of the mountain. If it's not enough, we'll hurry up and embroider some other things to supplement it."

Su Xiaoyin was embroidering the veins of lotus leaves with varying shades of green silk thread. Hearing this, she looked up, her eyelashes seemingly gleaming with focused concentration. She nodded gently, her voice soft yet firm: "We've already finished more than half. If we grit our teeth and finish the rest before the end of the year, it shouldn't be a problem. As long as the shopkeeper still appreciates our craftsmanship." She paused, looking at her sister, "After we finish this large piece, we'll rush to make a batch of smaller items—tiger-head shoes, tiger-head hats, little cloth tigers, embroidered with festive patterns. They'll definitely sell well at the New Year's market. We can replenish our supplies a bit more."

The sisters said no more, leaving only the barely audible rustling of needles piercing the brocade and the occasional crackling of sparks from the charcoal brazier. The morning light gradually filtered through the window paper, gently enveloping their lowered profiles and the increasingly beautiful embroidery.

Meanwhile, the open shed in the front yard, which served as a carpentry workshop, was bustling with activity, filled with the clanging and banging of metal. Chen Dashan and Chen Xiaohe were busy working on several camphor wood planks that were already taking shape. This was a job they had taken on through Aunt Wang's introduction—a set of furniture for a wedding, including cabinets, chests, tables, and chairs. The agreed-upon payment was three taels of silver. The brothers planned to finish it quickly so they could set up a stall at the pre-New Year's market and sell some small bamboo and wooden items, as well as hair ties and baby clothes made by their wives.

Chen Dashan squatted down, using a plane to smooth out the last burrs on a piece of tabletop. His movements were steady and even, and wood shavings fell like rolling waves, carrying the unique fragrance of camphor wood. Chen Xiaohe, on the other hand, was installing brass hinges on the already assembled box. He was skillful and loved to tinker, and this time he specially made the hinges with cloud patterns. Although it was more labor-intensive, it looked much more exquisite.

"Brother, once this order is done, we'll have some free time." Chen Xiaohe tightened the last screw, patted the box lid with satisfaction, and said, "We'll have even more confidence to buy the barren mountain in the spring."

Chen Dashan hummed in agreement, put down the plane, and gently stroked the smooth, mirror-like tabletop with his palm: "Furniture is inanimate; once it's sold, it's one less available. When spring comes and the farm work begins, this carpentry work will have to be put aside. We should think about some more exquisite, less material-intensive, and more valuable small items, or, like Dad said, see if we can take on some odd jobs like repairing bridges and roads or building livestock sheds."

Chen Xiaohe nodded, deeply agreeing. Although their family was doing better and better now, their foundation was still shallow, and they had to be careful and plan ahead for every step they took.

Chen's father wasn't idle either. The quiet of the winter forests was perfect for setting traps. Every few days, he would carry his homemade snares and a gleaming short stick up the mountain to inspect the dozen or so rabbit traps he had laid on the leeward slopes and in the bushes. If he was lucky, he could bring back one or two plump gray rabbits. Rabbit meat became a rare delicacy on the winter table, nourishing the whole family. The rabbit skins were carefully peeled off and tanned by Chen Dashan, becoming soft and fluffy.

These tanned rabbit skins were transformed into treasures in the hands of Su Xiaoyin and Su Xiaoqing. They made a rabbit skin hat with ear flaps and a pair of thick knee pads for Chen Dashan, Chen Xiaohe, and their father. Winters in the Northwest are bitterly cold, with the north wind like a knife. The three men were often out and about, and wearing the hats and knee pads instantly brought warmth to their very bones. Chen's mother also received a pair of knee pads, which provided much relief when her chronic leg pain flared up. The remaining scraps weren't wasted either; they pieced them together and made a pair of fluffy rabbit skin boots for each of the four toddlers. The little ones were so happy wearing them, walking around on the kang (heated brick bed), and refused to take them off.

Looking at the warm rabbit skins on his children and grandchildren, Chen's father felt at ease and went up the mountain to set traps even more frequently. He was thinking that he should collect more good skins so that when he had more money, he could make a rabbit skin vest for each of his two daughters-in-law. They were always sitting at home doing embroidery and were most afraid of the cold.

The head of the household, Mrs. Chen, was the most steadfast support during this winter. She oversaw three meals a day, and despite the freezing weather and limited ingredients, she always managed to prepare a variety of dishes to ensure her family ate comfortably. Unlike some families in the village who ate only one or two meals a day in winter to save food, the Chen family maintained their three meals without fail. Breakfast might be a steaming bowl of mixed grain porridge with pickled vegetables, lunch would be noodle soup or vegetable porridge, and dinner would be slightly more formal, but never extravagant. Mrs. Chen always said, "Man is iron, food is steel. Even though we're all cooped up in winter, we need to eat well to save up our strength for working in the fields in spring." She prepared dried vegetables from the autumn, stored radishes and cabbages, and pickled sauerkraut and salted eggs, along with the occasional rabbit meat and dried fish, creating a flavorful and varied meal. In this food-scarce winter, the family's complexions not only didn't turn pale, but instead became even more rosy and healthy.

Before they knew it, it was the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month, and the Chen family slaughtered their New Year's pig. This pig was a piglet they had brought home in the spring, and they had carefully fed it for more than half a year, until it grew plump and strong. Slaughtering a pig is a big event, so they invited several familiar men from the village to help. They boiled water, removed the hair, and cut the meat. The courtyard was filled with steam and the aroma of meat.

The villagers who came to help, while working, kept glancing at the Chen family, young and old. Although Mr. and Mrs. Chen wore worn-out cotton-padded jackets, they were clean and efficient, with rosy complexions and nimble hands and feet. The Chen brothers, Da Shan and Da Shan, were particularly robust; their arms beneath their jackets seemed to bulge with strength. Even the Su sisters, though their skin was fair from years of indoor work, had full cheeks and relaxed eyes; they stood to the side, holding their children and smiling sweetly. The four little children, bundled up round and plump, their fair faces rosy, curiously burrowed around the adults' legs, showing no fear whatsoever.

"Oh my, Auntie Shan, your family has really taken good care of themselves this winter!" Uncle Chen, who was helping with the plucking, joked with a smile. "Look at this family, their faces are glowing, they look even more prosperous than in the summer! They're really living a good life!"

Another man chimed in, "Exactly! Look at these four chubby grandsons, oh my, they're so adorable! Even more festive than the dolls in New Year's paintings!"

As she deftly distributed a piece of good meat to the helpers as a reward, Chen's mother replied with a smile, "Look at what Fifth Uncle is saying! Even farmers, after a whole year of hard work, can finally rest in winter. Shouldn't they eat a little more and fatten themselves up? Otherwise, how will they have the strength to work in the fields in the spring?" Although her words were modest, the smile and confidence in her eyes and brows could not be hidden.

The villagers accepted the meat, expressing their gratitude repeatedly, their hearts filled with mixed emotions. Who could have imagined that just a few years ago, the Chen family, struggling to find a husband due to their eldest son's leg injury and their own poverty, would experience such a meteoric rise in fortune after marrying these two sisters who had fled famine? They bought land, cattle, built a new house, had four healthy sons, and now they were even slaughtering pigs for the New Year with such extravagance… Their lives were truly enviable and admirable.

After seeing off the villagers who had helped, the courtyard quieted down, leaving only the lingering aroma of meat and the smoke from the firewood. Looking at the pork strips hanging under the eaves, swaying slightly in the cold wind, Chen's mother pondered which ones to cure, which to smoke, and which to keep fresh. She turned around and saw her son and daughter-in-law cleaning up the mess, her grandchildren laughing and playing in the yard, and her old man squatting in the corner, smiling as he smoked his pipe.