A fierce wife enters the house: She helps up a house full of spineless people.

On the second day of the sixth lunar month, the formula for the facial cream was finalized.

Wang Jinzhu used a thin bamboo skewer to pick up a fingernail-sized amount of the third-edition mutton fat ointment and applied it to the back of her hand. The ointment melted upon contact with the skin, leaving neither an oily sheen nor a dry feeling.

She brought the back of her hand to her nose and smelled it. The aloe vera juice masked the strong smell of mutton fat, leaving only a faint, delicate fragrance.

"It's done."

Chen Tianwei leaned closer to look, her eyes lighting up: "Sister-in-law, this smells much better than the ones sold in town. The ones in town smell like lard and leave a greasy residue on your face."

"That's because they use lard as a base, to save money." Wang Jinzhu divided the cream into small porcelain boxes, each weighing about an ounce. "Lard is three times more expensive than lard, but anyone who's used it knows the difference in how it feels on the face."

Facial cream is done, but lip balm is the real challenge.

The colorants were easy to mix. The true red was made with cochineal powder, the red bean paste with a small amount of ochre, and the orange powder was made by mixing safflower juice with gamboge. She had tested the three colors a few days ago, and when she applied them to a white porcelain dish, the colors were just right.

The difficulty lies in management.

To make lip rouge into sticks, you need a shell to hold it, and it needs to be able to be twisted out and retracted. This thing sounds simple, but it's incredibly difficult to make.

Wang Jinzhu stared at a pile of bamboo tubes of varying lengths on the table, worrying from morning until noon. The inner walls of the bamboo tubes were rough, and once the ointment was poured in, it couldn't be pulled out. She had tried brushing wax on the inner walls, but it was too slippery, and the ointment would drip down.

When Chen Tianfang returned at noon, he saw her sitting amidst a pile of bamboo tube remnants, with a sketch spread out in front of her that she had drawn and redrawn repeatedly.

"What's wrong?"

"These tubes won't do," Wang Jinzhu said, tossing the bamboo tube onto the table. "I need two tubes fitted together, the inner one that can slide up and down, and the outer one that's fixed in place. They also need to be properly secured in the middle, not too loose and not too tight."

Chen Tianfang picked up the sketch and looked at it for a long time, then picked up the discarded bamboo tube and turned it over and over.

"Wait a minute."

He turned and went back to the backyard, where he found a pile of bamboo scraps left over from cutting arrow shafts. He picked out two bamboo pieces of similar thickness and used a knife to scrape the inner walls little by little.

Wang Jinzhu followed to watch. His bamboo-cutting technique was extremely steady; the blade followed the bamboo wall, and thin bamboo shavings rolled up and fell to the ground.

"The same principle applies to fitting the arrow shaft into the arrowhead," Chen Tianfang explained as he whittled the arrow. "You cut a spiral groove on the outer part and embed a bamboo nail in the inner part. When you turn it, the bamboo nail follows the groove, pushing the paste upwards."

Wang Jinzhu was stunned.

Spiral groove?

She spent an entire afternoon drawing a structure she couldn't figure out, but this person explained it clearly in just three sentences.

Chen Tianfang didn't notice her expression, concentrating on scraping the bamboo wall. First, he smoothed the inner wall of the outer tube, then used a heated iron awl to slowly burn out a shallow spiral pattern. The inner tube was even thinner, so he polished it three times with sandstone, and then embedded a thin bamboo nail into the tube wall.

The two tubes are nested together, and with a gentle twist, the inner tube slowly rises along the spiral groove, steadily and smoothly, without jamming or wobbling.

"Try it." He handed the tube over.

Wang Jinzhu took it and spun it around twice. It was as smooth as if it had been fitted with a bearing.

Wang Jinzhu stood on tiptoe and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

The sound was quite loud, crisp and clear.

Chen Tianfang froze on the spot.

His ears turned red first, then his neck, and finally the knife in his hand fell to the ground with a "clang." He bent down to pick it up, and his forehead almost hit the edge of the table.

"You...you..."

"What are you saying? Hurry up and cut nine more." Wang Jinzhu had already turned around to apply the ointment, her tone as if she hadn't kissed anyone before.

Chen Tianfang picked up the carving knife, took a deep breath, tried to calm his pounding heart, and sat down to continue carving.

That evening, the first knob-type lip balm was successfully launched.

The outer tube was wrapped in fine white linen, with a small "bead" character engraved on the bottom. When twisted open, a section of bright red ointment was revealed, with a rich color and delicate texture.

"Tianwei, come here."

Chen Tianwei put down what she was doing and walked over. Wang Jinzhu gently lifted her chin and applied a thin layer of lip rouge to her lips.

Bright red complements fair skin.

Chen Tianwei already had delicate features and fair skin, and this touch of red made her look even more radiant. The timidity in her eyes was suppressed by the color, making her appear even more beautiful.

Chen Tianrun leaned against the doorframe and stared for a while before blurting out, "Sister, you're as beautiful as a fairy from a New Year's painting."

Chen Tianwei covered her mouth, her ears turning bright red.

Over the next two days, the distillation equipment was also set up.

Following Wang Jinzhu's drawing, Chen Tianfang connected a bamboo tube to a ceramic jar, sealed the jar's opening with wet mud, leaving only the bamboo tube's outlet extending into a basin of cold water. He then placed rose petals at the bottom of the jar, added water, and heated a small fire underneath.

Steam travels through the bamboo tube into the receiving bottle in the cold water basin, where it condenses into droplets.

When the first bottle of rose fragrance was revealed, Chen Tianwei uncorked the bottle, took a sniff, and was completely stunned.

"Sister-in-law, has the flower turned into water?"

"almost."

The fragrance was unbelievably pure. It wasn't the strong, fermented scent of sachets, but rather the fresh sweetness of flower petals moistened by morning dew.

Wang Jinzhu dripped two drops onto her wrist, and after an incense stick's time, she brought it close to her nose and the fragrance remained.

"It works."

Four things: face cream, lip balm, perfume, and only face powder is still being mixed in the final stages.

On the night of the fourth day of the sixth lunar month, Wang Jinzhu was packaging the last batch of face cream in her workshop. Chen Tian was chopping firewood in the yard, and casually packed up the tools he would be using to go up the mountain the next day.

Before going to bed, he didn't go inside, but squatted for a while at the foot of the courtyard wall.

When I returned, I had a piece of thin hemp rope in my hand.

"The tripwire is down," he said in a low voice. "It's a step from the top of the wall to the ground. The rope is dark-colored; you won't see it in the moonlight."

Where's the swill bucket?

"It's half a foot behind the tripwire. It's not swill, it's saltpeter. It's leftover from painting the walls this afternoon, and I haven't thrown it away yet."

Wang Jinzhu glanced at him: "You deliberately didn't pour it?"

Chen Tianfang grinned, revealing a wicked smile.

Just past midnight, the moonlight was dim.

Chen Xiufen, wrapped in dark old clothes, crouched down and crept to the outside of the courtyard wall of the main house.

Her hands were still wrapped in bandages, and the red rash on her face had only half subsided, though the itching still throbbed from time to time. But the thought of all the valuable bottles and jars in the main courtyard suppressed the itch with resentment.

The flower costing two ounces of silver—though it's fake, the ointment and powder must be valuable.

She poured a bucket of swill into it, ruining everything, and Wang Jinzhu was still smug about it.

Chen Xiufen gritted her teeth, clung to the top of the wall, and climbed up by pushing off the cracks in the wall with her feet. She wasn't heavy, and she climbed up in no time.

Looking into the courtyard by the moonlight, it was pitch black, with no lights and no movement.

She flipped over and jumped down, and as soon as her right foot landed, her ankle tightened suddenly.

"ah--"

He fell forward, his hands instinctively bracing themselves on the ground, the rough surface stinging his palms. Then, his shoulder slammed into something hard.

With a loud crash, she knocked over the bucket of saltpeter.

Half a bucket of murky saltpeter water was poured over her head, soaking her face and neck, causing her to cough violently. The saltpeter water stung her eyes, and she rubbed them desperately, but the more she rubbed, the more it hurt.

"Ah—!! My eyes!!"

The sounds of ghosts wailing and wolves howling exploded in the night.