Ye Shiqi, having eaten her fill, did not continue to wait in the dining hall; she returned to her room to prepare some items.
To give to her cousins as gifts.
The gifts Ye Shiqi presented were far from cheap; they were made from the purple sandalwood, greenish sandalwood, and scrap pieces of Old Sandalwood and pearwood she had obtained from her father.
She had prepared a birthday gift for Tang Shunyan, and later crafted combs for her grandparents. Her parents and all five sisters also received combs made of Old Sandalwood, with even smaller pieces of wood left over.
She thought of the larger beads she had made for Tang Shunyan to wear on his wrist.
The smaller pieces of wood could also be turned into beads, or she could use the adhesive from her father’s wood factory to bond some pieces together to create attractive jewelry.
Of course, she also made a lovely gourd pendant for herself, hanging it from a red string around her neck.
Knowing she had such a charming wooden gourd, her sisters all wanted one.
Helplessly, she could only craft Pixiu bracelets for them, a tiny Pixiu threaded onto a red string, which was then woven into an attractive bracelet.
Naturally, she didn’t make just one; besides one for each of her five sisters, she also made one for her little brother, and even prepared them as gifts to give to her cousins during the day’s family visits.
Such treatment wasn’t available to everyone, only the closest received such gifts.
To prevent her eldest aunt from wanting their beautiful bracelets upon seeing them, she also made an extra Pixiu pendant for her older cousin.
Making so many pieces of jewelry, apart from her time in class, doing exercises, and playing, she had been very busy these past two months.
In fact, she didn’t really need to return to her room to prepare, as she kept everything in her space; she did so to pack the items properly, as it wouldn’t do to carelessly take them out at her relatives’ homes.
Mrs. Li had the gifts prepared, wrapped her little son up tightly, and had the personal gifts she intended to give moved onto the oxcart.
Today, they would use one oxcart to go to her maternal home, leaving the other oxcart for Mr. and Mrs. Lai.
The workers had been given time off for the New Year, and for these two or three days, even the driver was on leave; her husband and son could temporarily take up the role of drivers.
Hongji had the oxcart pulled out, then somewhat incongruously sat atop the cart’s bench in his wealthy man’s clothes.
He looked over his shoulder as the workers loaded the cart, then watched his wife board with their five daughters and a maid, feeling the squeeze, before another little maid climbed aboard.
In that moment, Hongji’s father had another idea. Although an oxcart might be considered decent in rural areas for an able man,
its divided compartments were not spacious, and it could be drafty in winter. He recalled some wealthy people used horse-drawn carriages.
He did not see himself as wealthy yet, but believed that in the not too distant future, he might afford a horse and could have a carriage made—nothing too luxurious, just something to protect his wife and children from the wind and rain.
Transporting goods by horse carriage would be better too. On a sunny day like today it was fine, but in rainy weather, the oxcart’s simple boarding would surely leak!
Meanwhile, in the other oxcart, Mrs. Lai arranged for the little maid to load things up, and to showcase her status as a wealthy lady, she also brought a little maid along.
Hongji’s father, seated at the front bench of the oxcart, used the short moment to enjoy his bamboo tube pipe while waiting for the maid to finish loading.
He helped the plump Mrs. Lai board the oxcart, and the little maid also climbed up. Without stowing his bamboo pipe inside the house, he placed it under the toolbox by the seat and prepared to drive the oxen.
Hongji’s father, accustomed to his bamboo tube pipe, had grown to like it even in his newfound wealthier status, and did not think that smoking a smaller pipe would taste any better.
Watching his son already leading the oxcart out of the yard, he also urged his oxen to follow.
Father and son, one after the other, drove their oxcarts down the village’s main road, envied by those men who were walking to their in-laws’ homes with their wives.
Their wives were even more envious—how warm, how prestigious it would be to travel by oxcart in winter.
The oxcarts were not fast, and the villagers who turned their heads on the roadside to speak to the father-son duo noted how dapper they looked, a wealthy master driving a cart.
It did not seem to them undignified; two years ago, their own family might have walked the same roads.
The villagers could not see the hidden gifts inside the enclosed oxcarts, and what would they think if they had?
When the villagers inquired, father and son briefly mentioned that they were off to visit relatives.
After leaving the village entrance, father and son split to follow different directions with their carts.