Naturally, Fan Xian could not tell her of his conjecture. He simply took in an involuntary breath of cold air, as if he had a toothache. Haitang looked at him, said nothing, and carried on along the Yuquan River. After a short walk, they came to the edge of a small garden with a bamboo fence and a gate. There was a well on one side of the courtyard, and a stone table under the shade on the west side. Yellow, fuzzy-feathered chicks pecked silently at the ground.
This was where Haitang planted her vegetables.
Fan Xian couldn't help but shake his head. "You can't compare one person to another. To tell the truth, you always give the impression of being close to nature. But when you compare such a refined and elegant place as this to those stinking pigpens in the countryside, I've finally realized that planting vegetables and rearing chickens is something you have to pay careful attention to."
