Ah Chan

The year of famine, Aunt sent me to seek refuge with my betrothed at the Zhou Family.

Zhou Yanli looked down on me. He eyed my worn dress and casually pointed at the empty Ceramic Savings Jar on the table:

“The Zhou Family has no money to buy you cloth for a wedding gown.

“When you’ve filled this jar with money, I’ll marry you.”

Ah, money is truly hard to save.

For a whole year, I scrimped and saved, washing clothes by breaking ice in winter, weaving mats and making shoes in summer, my hands covered in wounds old and new.

Just as the Clay Pot was nearly full, Aunt said there had been a mistake-the engagement was not with the Zhou Family, but with the Zou Family.

When the Zou Family sent a bridal sedan to fetch me, Zhou Yanli was nowhere to be seen, and even Chang Xi, the young servant, looked troubled:

“The Zou Family is terribly poor. If you marry over, I fear they may not even have a pot to cook with.

“As for the money to rent this bridal sedan, half was saved by him copying books for others, and half was pooled together by Teacher and his classmates!”

The bridal sedan had bells hanging from its four corners; though old, it was clean and tidy, clearly prepared with care. My heart was filled with joy as I pursed my lips and smiled:

“It’s all right, I’ve saved some money too.”

Hugging that small, full Clay Pot, I climbed into the bridal sedan.