He Zifeng neatly folded the fabric scraps into small rectangular bundles, each tied together in groups of six with hemp rope. To prevent the rope from leaving marks, Qiu Yu placed a piece of oiled paper between the fabric and the rope. Though just a small detail, the combination of the hemp rope and the matching fabric colors gave the bundles an aesthetically pleasing look.
This was how they dealt with the smaller scraps. Larger pieces, such as half-bolts, were left intact since they had more versatile uses. With Qiu Yu’s help, the sorting went quickly—some pieces were washed, others trimmed, and the fabrics were categorized and neatly stacked.
For irregularly shaped scraps, they cut them into squares or rectangles, but a sizable pile of unusable scraps—totaling 20–30 pounds—remained. These scraps alone had cost around 60 wen.
Qiu Yu suggested, “Why not make beanbags? Fill them with sand, and kids could play with them all day without getting hurt.”
“That works,” He Zifeng agreed.
Qiu Yu grabbed a basket full of scraps and headed to find some skilled village women. It was a slow farming season, and the women were gathered, chatting and relaxing. When they saw Qiu Yu approaching, one called out, “What brings you here? No new drama at the He family?”
“None,” Qiu Yu replied with a smile. “I came to ask you all to teach me how to sew beanbags.”
While Qiu Yu was adept at household chores and outdoor tasks, sewing had always been his weak point. Growing up with his hunter father, he had learned survival skills but had no experience with needlework.
The women, seeing the colorful fabric scraps, lit up. “Where did you get so many?” one asked.
“I bought them to try some small business ideas,” Qiu Yu explained. With free sand and leftover fabric, selling beanbags would be pure profit.
“Let me sew for you,” a woman offered. “Just thread my needle, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
These women were excellent seamstresses. They decided to gather at Sister Xu’s house since it was spacious and free of men. The women eagerly examined the scraps, which included hand-sized pieces, narrow strips, and irregular shapes. Many of the larger scraps could be used for more than just beanbags, and to them, every piece was a treasure.
“You’re only making beanbags? These scraps can be used for so much more,” one suggested.
Qiu Yu replied, “I’ll take whatever you make. When I sell them, I’ll treat you all to some wine.”
The women chuckled, declining his offer. “It’s just some stitching—easy for us,” one said. Everyone in the village was better off than Qiu Yu, and they couldn’t bear to let him spend money.
“Let me bring my daughter to help,” Sister Yan suggested.
“Good idea! I’ll call my girl too,” another added.
“Back in the day, we didn’t have scraps like this to practice sewing. Look at all these cute patterns!”
“I feel like I’m playing house all over again!”
Soon, the group expanded to over ten women, each excitedly sewing with the beautiful scraps.
“Let’s have a competition!”
“Ha, with your skills? You don’t stand a chance,” one teased.
“Qiu Yu, do you have more scraps? There’s not enough for everyone!”
“There are more,” Qiu Yu assured them, returning home to fetch several more baskets of fabric. By the time he’d brought over four or five baskets, he had emptied his stash.
The women were thrilled, eagerly choosing their favorite pieces to work with.
Not wanting them to overexert themselves, Qiu Yu prepared a pot of sweetened water with the red sugar they usually saved for special occasions.
He Zifeng, hearing about the gathering, went into the mountains to pick a basket of wild vegetables and fruits, arranging them neatly on banana leaves. He asked Qiu Yu to deliver them to the women as a gesture of appreciation.
In the village, helping each other was a way of life. Sewing small items felt more like a game to the women, and the light-hearted atmosphere made the day fly by. But the He family’s thoughtfulness spurred the women to work even harder.
By evening, they had used up every scrap of fabric, leaving nothing to waste.
As they wrapped up, each woman took home some wild vegetables and fruits, but they weren’t ready to stop. “Qiu Yu, do you have more scraps? Don’t be shy; we’re happy to sew!”
Qiu Yu chuckled. “That’s all for now. Thank you so much!”
“Let us know if you need anything else,” one said. “We’re all neighbors—no need to be so polite.”
With the finished items in tow, Qiu Yu headed home.
That evening, He Zifeng was stunned by the results. The scraps, once seemingly useless, had been transformed into beautiful and functional items: ten patchwork child-sized quilt covers, over a hundred square beanbags, flower-shaped beanbags, 200 pairs of shoe uppers ready to be stitched onto soles, 70–80 small decorative flowers for hair ties, and over 200 coin-purse-shaped pouches.
The craftsmanship was remarkable, and each item seemed to have a life of its own.
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