Chapter 1: Matchmaking

Early October arrived, and the fields were left with rows of rice stubble.

High stacks of straw were piled along the embankments, signaling the end of the autumn harvest.

Three skinny ducks with white necks pecked at a few stray grains of rice in the fields before waddling and sliding into the river ditch.

At that moment, a lean figure crossed a makeshift wooden bridge, hastily constructed from a few logs spanning the ditch.

Van Jing, the eldest son of the Van family from the village, carried a tightly woven bamboo basket on his back and gripped a stone-tipped spear in his hand, returning from the mountains.

As he crossed the bridge, a woman weeding winter kale seedlings in the field called out from a distance, her tone teasing.

“Jing, you’re back at just the right time!”

Van Jing didn’t respond but tilted his head slightly.

The woman, undeterred by his silence, continued, “There’s a matchmaker at your house, did you know? She’s all dolled up, looks like she’s from out of town. Must be here to arrange a marriage for you!”

Van Jing glanced toward his home, muttered that he didn’t know, and without further chatter, headed home at a steady pace.

The single gate to the Van family’s courtyard stood open.

A brood of fluffy yellow chicks hopped over the threshold, following a glossy-feathered hen out of the yard.

They pecked at bugs near the fence, scattering and clucking everywhere.

Before Van Jing left for the mountains, these chicks were still unhatched under their mother’s rear.

Time sure passed quickly—they were already scampering about.

He glanced at them briefly before stepping inside.

Setting his basket and spear on a wooden stool outside the kitchen, Van Jing heard an unfamiliar voice coming from the main room.

“This family’s surname is Kang, from the other side of Wangshui Township. They’re as honest as they come, always kind and polite, never seen them get into a shouting match with anyone. Their third son is healthy, strong, and quite good-looking too.”

In the main room, a woman in her forties, somewhat plump, spoke with a sharp tongue.

She wore a dark red, knee-length, cross-collared dress with an indigo pleated skirt, matched with a belt of the same color.

Her hair was adorned with two colorful silk flowers and a plain silver hairpin, looking festive and well-groomed.

Sitting across from the matchmaker were Van Jing’s parents, Van Shoulin and Chen Sanfang.

“How could such a good family come to us?” they asked.

The matchmaker, expecting the question, replied, “In recent years, wave after wave of conscriptions and grain levies took their toll. At its worst, even young men were drafted to the front lines. Common folk suffered, and though the war has finally settled, so many strong young men died on the battlefield. In every village around, there are far more women than men of marriageable age, making it tough to find matches.”

“This Kang boy would’ve been fought over in better times, a prime catch for marriage. But fate’s cruel—he took a hit to the head and hasn’t been the same since. He can’t handle detailed tasks like accounting or writing anymore.”

The woman sighed, leaning forward slightly, and continued, “The Kang family had three sons. Two were drafted and sent to the front. Only one came back, and even he lost a leg. One son’s slow, the other’s crippled. Without spending some money, how could they marry? They’re a modest rural family, not wealthy, so they can’t afford much. After much thought, they decided to marry their youngest son off as a live-in son-in-law.”

“The one who went to war suffered enough, so they’re protective of him. That leaves the youngest to be married off.”

Hearing the full story, the Van couple felt a bit more at ease about the Kang boy’s flaws, though new worries crept in.

The matchmaker wasn’t wrong.

Though the war ended two years ago, its aftermath lingered.

Marriage was one such challenge—there were more eligible women than men, throwing things out of balance.

Men had become precious.

In the past, families with daughters were sought after; now, the tables had turned.

The Van family had one son and two daughters, but no heir to carry the name.

Families like theirs often took in a live-in son-in-law.

In peaceful times with plenty of strong men, finding one would’ve been easy.

But in these times, with the Van family poor and barely able to afford dowries for their daughters, let alone the money to secure a son-in-law, it was tough.

They hadn’t even dared mention their desire for a live-in son-in-law to matchmakers, so no one had come calling.

Now, unexpectedly, a matchmaker had arrived, proposing a rare family willing to offer a son-in-law.

Chen glanced at her husband, Van Shoulin, who was listening intently.

She leaned forward and asked, “You say the Kang boy’s mind isn’t sharp, but how bad is it? And if he’s to marry in, how much would the bride price be?”

“He’s not entirely witless. It comes and goes. When he’s good, he’s like anyone else; at his worst, he just struggles to speak clearly,” the matchmaker said with a slight smile.

Being from Wangshui Township herself, she’d seen the Kang boy.

His looks and build were indeed fine, but after a rock rolled down a mountain and hit his head, he slept for three days.

When he woke, he spent his days grinning foolishly and wandering aimlessly.

He didn’t even know to come home when it rained, forcing the Kang family to search for him.

A tall, strong laborer, wasted.

Though his condition spared him from conscription, even with men in short supply, no family wanted to marry their daughter or son to him.

Some preferred men who’d returned crippled from war or those who’d father a child and leave, over the Kang boy.

The matchmaker hadn’t wanted to arrange a match for such a person, but the Kang family offered good money.

So, she came to Hepingsi, far from Wangshui, to find a family without a son to propose to.

Wangshui and Hepingsi were the farthest villages in the county, one south, one north.

She feared that if she pitched the idea to a closer village, they’d know the Kang boy was slow and refuse, or worse, chase her off with curses and sticks.

Naturally, she didn’t reveal the full truth.

After briefly mentioning the Kang boy, she pivoted to the positives.

“The Kang family is as honest as they come. They just want a good life for their son and aren’t after a big bride price. They say a hefty price would burden the in-laws, and in the end, their son would suffer. Times are tough everywhere these days—a small token of a bride price will do.”

Chen thought this sounded like a heaven-sent opportunity, but she wasn’t naive.

No marriage deal came this easy these days.

Though she was Van Jing’s stepmother, she couldn’t blindly agree to a questionable match.

If the boy was too far gone, not only might Van Jing object, but even if it went through, gossip would harm her own daughters’ marriage prospects later.

Plus, if he was too impaired to work and only ate their food, they’d be stuck with a burden.

The matchmaker noticed Chen’s hesitation but saw her eyes flicker with interest, which sparked her own hope.

She took a sip of the coarse tea on the table to wet her dry throat and pressed on.

“Nowadays, men have the upper hand in marriages. Even shiftless poor men who’d never get a glance before are acting high and mighty, picking and choosing good families’ daughters and sons. I get frustrated matchmaking sometimes, but families like the Kangs are rare. Honestly, with your family’s situation, taking in a son-in-law makes sense. When you’re old, you’ll need someone close by. If you think the Kangs are a good fit, I’ll go back and tell them there’s a fine family in Hepingsi. I’m sure they’ll be pleased. I won’t bother looking elsewhere—there are other suitable families in nearby villages, but I hit it off with you, and this tea’s not bad either. I’ll keep your family in mind.”

Chen appreciated the matchmaker’s words but didn’t rush to agree.

She refilled the woman’s tea and said softly, “You’ve come all this way to discuss such a match, and we’re thrilled. But it’s our child’s future, and as parents, we can’t be hasty. Could you arrange for us to meet and see each other?”

The matchmaker paused.

If they met, the deal might fall apart.

“I understand your concern. Wangshui’s not far in the same county, but it’s still sixty or seventy li away. Traveling back and forth is tough, and messages are hard to pass. If you’re truly worried, I can bring a portrait in a few days.”

Chen sensed evasion and grew wary.

Everyone knew matchmakers could spin black into white.

What if the boy wasn’t just slow but outright foolish?

Still, she wondered if the matchmaker was reluctant to arrange a meeting because they hadn’t offered money.

She hesitated, unwilling to part with cash to test the matchmaker’s sincerity.

Van Shoulin, who’d been mostly silent, suddenly pulled out a string of coins—ten at least—and pressed them into the matchmaker’s hand.

“Bring the boy here for us to see, and let their family see our son.”

Chen’s eyes widened at the hefty string of coins, glaring at her husband.

The old man had hidden savings!

Though it wasn’t her money, it felt like a piece of her flesh had been cut away.

But money given to a matchmaker wasn’t coming back.

Chen forced a smile.

“My husband’s not good with words, don’t mind him. You’ve worked hard, and our tea’s not much. When you’re in town, treat yourself to a proper bowl of tea.”

The matchmaker, coins in hand, reconsidered.

If they insisted on a meeting, the deal might not go through either way.

But if they met and it failed, she’d still have the coins.

Why not?

She tucked the coins into her sleeve, smiling.

“You’re too kind. I’ll make sure this is handled well. I Ascend I’ll go back and tell the Kangs, and I’ll send word to you.”

After some pleasantries, the matchmaker, seeing the sun high, politely declined to stay for lunch and took her leave.

As the couple saw her out, she stepped over the threshold and suddenly faced an unfamiliar figure.

Under the eaves stood a tall, lanky man with his hair tied back with a scrap of cloth, wearing a beast-hide vest that smelled faintly of wild game, and patched brown trousers.

His gaze was cool, neither curious nor friendly, suggesting he wasn’t easy to approach.

The matchmaker hadn’t met Van Jing.

The couple had said their son was away and couldn’t be called back, so she hadn’t thought much of it, only knowing they were discussing a match for an older son.

Seeing Van Jing, she assumed he was a man, wondering if the Van family didn’t say they had no sons.

Chen, spotting him, was startled and quickly ushered him toward the kitchen.

Van Jing didn’t resist, grabbing a broken-stringed bow from his basket as he went.

The matchmaker snapped out of her daze, realizing this must be the son they were discussing.

“Van Shoulin, Chen Sanfang, this!” She pointed at him, too shocked to speak.

Van Shoulin opened his mouth but fumbled, unsure what to say.

Chen hurried out, pushing past her husband with a smile to smooth things over.

“This is our eldest son, just back from hunting in the mountains. He didn’t know we had a guest and hasn’t cleaned up—sorry for the sight.”

The matchmaker swallowed hard.

The Kangs had only asked for an honest family, not particular about looks or talents.

She hadn’t bothered to inspect closely, figuring even an unattractive match wouldn’t matter.

She hadn’t expected Van Jing’s imposing presence.

His build, his face… and a hunter to boot.

She half-feared he’d thrash anyone who crossed him.

Shivering, she suddenly found the coins in her sleeve burning.

Had she known he looked so formidable, she wouldn’t have exaggerated the Kang boy’s qualities so much.

Chen, noticing the matchmaker’s unease, quickly clarified, “With no sons, his father raised him tough. He only goes to the mountains after harvest when there’s no work. Normally, he’s at home sewing or sweeping. Farm boys aren’t as delicate as city ones—they do more rough work, but he’s no different from other boys.”

The matchmaker gave a dry laugh.

Skills were good for a poor family—another trade meant another way out.

But of all skills, why hunting?

She offered a polite remark: “He’s got real talent. Skills are valuable these days. You’re lucky.”

Chen could tell the matchmaker was just being courteous, likely spooked by Van Jing’s wild appearance and less eager to pursue the match.

Gritting her teeth, she lifted the lid of his basket, spotting a rabbit and a mountain pheasant.

She grabbed the scrawny pheasant.

“Our boy’s quiet, and as he gets older, his father and I worry day and night. He’s my late wife’s son, and if I don’t settle him well, I fear she’d haunt me. Please, Madam Hu, take this seriously.”

Chen thrust the pheasant into the matchmaker’s hands, insisting it was just a humble gift from rural folk.

As an official matchmaker, she earned tea money from arrangements and lived comfortably, used to good food and drink.

Village chickens weren’t rare, but a mountain pheasant was different—lean but flavorful, a delicacy even wealthy households sought.

Delighted with the pheasant, she said, “Parents’ hearts are touching. Rest assured, I’ll handle this.” She took the bird, adding, “Even if this match doesn’t work, I’ll find another good one for your son.”

Chen and Van Shoulin relaxed a bit, exchanged a few more courtesies, and the matchmaker left happily.