"Mother, I'm back."
Yayoi carried the leftovers into the side room, which had the same layout as the main room but was somewhat smaller, and the dirt floor wasn't as clean, tidy, and refined as the main one. This was actually where Jiulang's family mainly lived, with the main room used more for entertaining household retainers and important people visiting from various places; otherwise, at least there would be a spinning wheel set up on a stand here.
There was no oil lamp lit in the house, only the hearth with a fire burning. Yayoi's mother, Ah Ping, was sitting beside it, using the firelight to pick through the barnyard millet—they're like a type of rice field weed today, seeds that are black and purplish-blue, edible but not very palatable. Eating too much can easily cause indigestion and constipation, which is quite painful.
Japanese farmers in the Middle Ages spent over half the year cultivating rice, but they themselves almost never ate rice. Rice was mainly used for paying yearly tributes, compensating rice debt, repaying rice loans, and exchanging for money to purchase essential life commodities like salt, ironware, and pottery. Their daily diet was mainly buckwheat, various beans, radishes, turnips, wild vegetables, dried fruits, complemented by rice bran and barnyard millet.
Some regions also cultivated wheat and millet, but due to climate, seeds, and related agricultural technology reasons, the scope of cultivation was not large, and yields were not good.
Ah Ping was rubbing the barnyard millet in her hands, lost in thoughts, but was startled awake by her daughter's voice, hurriedly stood up to greet her, and asked with concern, "How are the nobles?"
"Everything's fine," Yayoi replied and looked at the dimly lit dirt floor. "How is Father? Is he feeling better?"
"Much better, no more fever, he's been sleeping, he should recover soon," Ah Ping said with a relieved tone, also glancing at the dimly lit dirt floor. Her husband was there, covered with clothes, sleeping soundly, seemingly out of danger.
"That's good, that's good," Yayoi breathed a long sigh of relief. If her father had passed away, with only her and her mother left at home, their life would drastically change—their mother might remarry, and she would probably be sent to the Whale House in the city to be a maid, a hostess, unless her stepfather was willing to support an extra person.
Usually, in the rural areas of Middle Ages Japan, very few stepfathers would be willing to do so, as even if they were raised, they wouldn't become labor force nor would they get a bride price upon marriage, which would be a pure loss.
Feeling relaxed, Yayoi quickly lifted the leftovers and excitedly said to her mother, "Mother, Lord Nohara left so much food, you should eat some!"
"Why is there so much left?!" Ah Ping was surprised; barely half of the brown rice was eaten, only the meat from the fish's belly was gone, and the kelp turnip soup and sauce were almost untouched.
She started worrying again, "Did they think the food was too plain?"
Yayoi quickly reassured her, "It's not like that, Mother. Lord Nohara has always been very mild-mannered and not angry."
"Not being angry is good, not being angry is good," Ah Ping felt somewhat relieved, but was still a little worried. Mainly it was the medicine money she was concerned about. She had seen her husband nearly dying, but then quickly recovering after taking just a little medicine, indicating that the medicine must be very precious. If Nohara asked for medicine money, she wouldn't be able to pay it even if she sold the entire family.
As for her, never mentioning wanting to buy...
Did a Samurai reason? Does that even make him a Samurai anymore? Who ever saw a noble reasoning with commoners?
If she had to renege, Nohara, being such a "noble Samurai," wouldn't need to do anything except write a letter to Hosokawa Castle seeking justice, and shout a few words here and there. Hosokawa Castle, for the sake of reputation, would most certainly hand over her entire family—after all, they were insignificant, and paying for medicine was the right thing to do, with no one speaking on their behalf.
So, now she could only hope that Nohara was in a good mood, that he'd be kind, and not bring up the issue of the medicine money.
Though Yayoi was mature for her age, she was still young and had casually chatted with Nohara, the conversations quite pleasant, feeling that he wasn't someone petty and harsh like her mother thought. She raised the leftovers again and happily said, "Mother, you should eat some!"
Commoners, household retainer faction members, and even some lower-ranked Samurai in Middle Ages Japan typically only ate two meals a day, breakfast and lunch, because they needed strength for labor in the morning and afternoon. Not eating was not an option as they wouldn't have the energy to work, but in the evening, with nothing much to do, they could endure hunger until falling asleep, thus making dinner unnecessary.
The men were like this, so there was even less need to mention women and children, whose rations were even less. In some cases, until the strong laborers finished eating, women and children wouldn't even get to the table, let alone touch the rice bowl.
Thus for Yayoi, dinner and brown rice were rare treats. Previously, when Nohara shared his dinner with her—real brown rice, plus fish, egg, sauce, and kelp—she resisted gobbling it down so she could save some for her mother.
Ah Ping hesitated for a moment, took the leftover food but didn't eat it, and turned to put it away, "No, leave it for your father, he needs to nourish his body."
Yayoi licked her lips, still hungry, but aware that without her father the family would collapse (only men could be tenant farmers, ancient women had very low farming efficiency, and it would be difficult to defend against wild animals or robbers without men). So she said no more.
Ah Ping put the food away, pulled her daughter to sit by the hearth to warm themselves and asked, rubbing her little hands, "Did you just call him Lord Nohara?"
"Yes," Yayoi replied, "Nohara Saburo Ieto, the other lord hasn't woken up, so I'm not sure of his name."