In the Qingyou Valley, Lady Meng herself fetched water from the stream, using a coarse pottery jar to heat it slowly over the fire pit Li helped construct.
She first used a handful of soft grass to clean the coarse porcelain bowls after the meal, placing them back in the food box for easy collection by others.
Then she sat again on the wooden house's threshold, using a piece of cloth torn from her hem, dipped in warm water, to wipe her face. It was a simple gesture, yet her graceful posture under the morning mist naturally exuded a noble and reserved beauty.
Li, leaning against a tree beside her, wondered what would happen when Zhou Datong arrived. He glanced dismissively, then turned his head, thinking to himself, City women eat well, having such a figure, yet they don't use it to carry dung or farm. What a waste.
Next meal, I'll only bring her food, no meat.
