"Alas, you eat more slowly than a goat," Yun Cai said, thumb pressing my forehead.
"I always eat slowly when my head's hot," I replied, tasting the spring water she handed me. It was cool and clean. I laughed out loud because clean water meant fewer fevers and fewer fevers meant I could make plans today.
"Stop laughing," she scolded, but her eyes were soft. "You looked like the sun when you smiled."
"Save the sun for when I'm not sweating," I told her. I set the cup down and scanned the kitchen with my good eye. A clay pot, three cracked bowls, a string of dried mushrooms, a jar of pickled radish, a honey jar with a paper lid, and a small bundle of bamboo skewers tied with twine. My fingers counted the things like a calculator.
"How much food do we have?" Yun Cai asked.
"Two bowls of dry rice, half a radish jar, and enough mushrooms to make a thin stew for one meal," I said. "Plus the honey jar. And the smokehouse still holds last autumn's salted pork bones."
Yun Cai blinked. "Is that enough?"
"It will be enough to buy us time," I said. I kept my voice steady because she mirrored me. If I started trembling, she would start trembling too.
"You'll be better after you eat," she declared and grabbed a wooden ladle like an army officer. "I'm your guard. I won't let anyone take your soup
