Twenty li south of Jinmen Prefecture City lay a place called Wanshou Township.
There was a young couple in the township. The husband, Wang Qiao, was young and strong, and could do anything from fishing and hunting to farming. His wife, Madam Li, was virtuous and managed the household well; she could work a loom and handle every kind of needlework.
The two were a match made in heaven. He was jade, I was a pearl; you were dung, and I was the dung beetle king.
In the depths of winter, Wang Qiao went fishing and hunting with the Fishermen's Guild. When he returned, he had kept one fine pomfret.
This was no ordinary pomfret, but a silver pomfret. Its flesh was not only delicate, but exceptionally fresh and delicious.
The local gentry and wealthy households were willing to pay a high price for even one taste of it.
Wang Qiao paid them no mind. He merely said that his wife was pregnant and often had no appetite. He had happened to hear that pomfret was delicious and could whet one's appetite, so he had deliberately joined the fishing expedition and kept this precious fish for her. There was no way he could part with it.
The husband was considerate to the smallest detail, and Madam Li was equally virtuous. One day, while Wang Qiao went up the mountain to gather firewood, Madam Li stayed home threading needles and stitching winter clothes for her husband and children. Halfway through, the needle tip suddenly pricked the pad of her finger, and the pain was unbearable.
A flutter rose in her heart, leaving her unable to sit or stand at ease. She thought that her husband had been out gathering firewood for quite some time and still had not returned. Could something