Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Marry Me

Chun Zhi stepped forward, took the fire striker from Huo Zheng’s hand, and said: “I’ll do it.”

Huo Zheng pushed his wheelchair back a little. The kitchen was full of smoke. As soon as he opened his mouth, he choked and coughed a few times.

Chun Zhi lit the kindling. The fire caught quickly.

She fanned it with a palm fan. The flames grew, and the water in the pot soon came to a boil.

The rising steam slowly drove the thick smoke away.

Chun Zhi stood in the middle of the warm, everyday smell of cooking.

After a moment, she turned and asked Huo Qi: “How about lean pork soup for dinner?”

She added in a light voice: “Brother Zhao sent pork today.”

Huo Zheng answered with a short sound: “Mm.”

Chun Zhi got busy. She sliced the meat, added salt, an egg, and sweet potato starch, mixed it all, then slipped it into the boiling water.

The smell of pork soup spread through the room.

Breathing in the scent, Huo Zheng could not help glancing at Chun Zhi a few more times. [This young lady can really cook.]

She had wanted to sprinkle scallions to add color and flavor, but at noon, when they ate noodles, the man said he did not eat scallions. She had picked them out one by one before he ate. So now she put scallions only in her own bowl.

Because Huo Qi’s appetite was much bigger than hers, Chun Zhi ladled a large bowl for him. She carried it to the Eight Immortals table and called him over: “Eat while it’s hot.”

Huo Zheng rolled to the table, took chopsticks in one hand and a spoon in the other, and began to eat.

[The taste is fresh and the meat is tender, no worse than the palace chefs.] His eyes lit up after the first bite.

Carrying her own bowl, Chun Zhi sat down and asked softly: “Is the lean pork soup good?”

He said without much expression: “It’s acceptable.”

His face was calm, but the way he ate fast, one bite after another, gave away what he really thought.

Chun Zhi said warmly: “Slow down. If it’s not enough, there’s more in the pot.”

As he ate, Huo Zheng suddenly sensed something and asked: “Do you have something to tell me?”

Chun Zhi looked surprised and said: “You can tell?”

He took a sip of soup and said, unhurried: “It’s obvious.” [This young lady wears her heart on her face. She doesn’t know how to hide her feelings. And she’s being much nicer than when she wanted me gone. Hard not to notice.]

Since he saw through her, Chun Zhi spoke plainly and said: “I’m already nineteen.”

He asked: “And then?”

Stirring her soup with her spoon, Chun Zhi said: “By the laws of this dynasty, any woman who is eighteen and still unmarried must pay a fine, or be forced to marry by the Magistrate’s Office, or be thrown in jail…”

Huo Zheng said: “There is such a law.”

Families with daughters usually settled engagements when the girls turned fifteen and had their hairpin ceremony. Even if the elders could not bear to part with them, they married them off before eighteen. A nineteen-year-old unmarried young lady was rare.

He had heard yamen runners come in the afternoon to scold Chun Zhi and try to take her away for a forced marriage. She fought for three days’ time and left without telling him anything, only coming back after dark. Now she brought it up again. [What is she planning?]

“I’m telling you this because I want to ask…” She grew a little shy, hesitated, then got to the point and said: “Huo Qi, have you taken a wife?”

Hearing the question, he paused, then answered in a low voice: “Not yet.”

Chun Zhi’s almond eyes brightened at once as she said: “Then can you help me with something?”

He asked: “What kind of help?” [I have a strange feeling about this.]

She said, quick and clear: “Marry me,” then added at once, “a fake marriage.”

He was stunned at the first part. Even after hearing “fake marriage,” he still thought it was absurd.

“Fake marriage?” he asked: “What do you take marriage for? A child’s game?”

Chun Zhi explained in a rush and said: “I don’t think marriage is a game. The Magistrate’s Office is pushing too hard. I can’t find someone worthy of my life in just a few days. This afternoon I went to look at two men. They seemed fine, but asking me to wed one of them within three days, I really can’t…”

“A woman’s marriage is a lifetime matter,” she said softly. “It’s like being born again. I don’t want to rush it. So I can only try a fake marriage.”

He looked up at her and asked: “So you set your sights on me?”

“I’m not trying to trap you. It’s only a fake marriage,” Chun Zhi said. “Nothing will happen between us. When you heal and leave, you can marry whoever you want. Then I… I’ll tell them you passed away, and I’ll live as your widow.”

The more she thought about it, the more it made sense to her. The man clearly would not stay long in Linshui Town, and she never planned to leave. Once they parted, they would likely never meet again.

“You would even go around saying I died?” His eyes grew complicated. He had no idea what went on in Chun Zhi’s head.

She said: “That’s not the point. The point is we fake marry.”

He answered at once: “No.”

“Why not?” Chun Zhi asked, puzzled. “You stay here and eat my food and use my things. I’m only asking you to do me a favor. Why not?”

He said: “I can help with other things. Marriage is not one of them.”

Chun Zhi corrected him and said: “Not marriage, a fake marriage.”

He replied: “Marriage is marriage. There is no true or false.”

“There is,” Chun Zhi said. “After the fake marriage, we still sleep in separate rooms. I can cook for you every day, take care of you, and support you. You can leave whenever you want. You lose nothing.”

He asked: “Then tell me, in a fake marriage, do we still bow to Heaven and Earth? Do we still hold a feast and invite the neighbors? Heaven and Earth would know, and everyone would know. How could that be fake?”

Chun Zhi had no answer. The Magistrate’s Office already had its eyes on her. To put on a proper show, she would have to hold a public ceremony and set out a few tables of wine and dishes.

While she was thinking, Huo Zheng finished his bowl of soup. He handed the empty bowl to her and said: “Another bowl.”

Annoyed that he would not help, Chun Zhi said, a little sharp: “Serve yourself.”

Huo Zheng fell silent. [This young lady changes her face faster than turning a page. A moment ago she was gentle. Now she won’t even serve me.]

He took the bowl in one hand and pushed his wheelchair with the other to the stove, then helped himself to another fragrant bowl of lean pork soup.

Watching him eat with such appetite, Chun Zhi had little of her own. She said, worried: “If I must marry someone else, people will soon come and start arranging things here. You won’t be able to stay and heal. Even so… you still won’t fake marry me?”