Since they’d returned home, they’d eaten three meals a day in front of a hot furnace, and their taut muscles easily loosened, and unexpectedly they passed a month or two of peaceful days, Song Shijiu and Li Shiyi living in one courtyard, and every morning, Li Shiyi would open the door, always finding her placing a full bucket of water down, cuffs drawn high, raising her lustrous, pale arms to wipe away the faint perspiration on her face, asking after her morning with a smile. In the evening, Li Shiyi would flip through books, and every few days she would present the pastries she’d learnt how to make, waiting for Li Shiyi to try a couple, and then she would sit down, making use of every moment to cut paper and wash brushes for her. When the light was good, she would go to the market to buy seeds, and scatter the seeds onto the entirety of the flowerbeds, saying that once summertime came, they would be bound to be filled with fragrant, luxurious vegetation, and all the rooms would be fil