It was raining.

Liu Qishuang instinctively rolled over to avoid the dripping spot, then looked up at the roof beams.

The house hadn’t been renovated last year, nor this year. Likely, the tiles above had been damaged by a stray cat or shattered by a mischievous child throwing stones, causing the leak.

Without a sound, he felt his way in the dark to move everything off the bed. Liu Qishuang turned around and lay down at the foot of the bed, his feet hanging over the edge. This way, with his back against the inner wall, the dripping rain wouldn’t reach him.

However, though he was no longer getting wet, his drowsiness had vanished.

It was early March, and the night still held a hint of chill. Liu Qishuang’s rain-soaked face felt icy cold, and his body, curled up in the old quilt, began to feel the cold as well.

Last winter, he mentioned that the house needed to be renovated, but his father just told him he was being nosy. His mother, however, didn’t mind his meddling; she simply told him to go ahead and do it himself.

A roof is no different from a big tree—it’s bare and offers no footholds. He dared not put much weight on his feet, and the eaves were the most terrifying of all, as if they might collapse at any moment. He was truly afraid, so naturally, he never mentioned the roof again.

Liu Qishuang listened closely for sounds from next door and found that there was not a single sound coming from his parents’ room, indicating that both were sleeping soundly; naturally, their room wasn’t leaking.

Liu Qishuang knew full well that if the leak were only in his room, his parents likely wouldn’t bother with it. Even if they were worried about the rafters rotting, they wouldn’t necessarily fix it right away. But now that it was March, the rain was falling more and more frequently, and he didn’t want to be woken up by rain every other day.

Tossing and turning, unable to sleep, it was only after an unknown amount of time that Liu Qishuang finally began to feel drowsy.

The sound of roosters crowing echoed from all corners of the village. The sky began to lighten, and one by one, households opened their courtyard gates, starting another busy day.

His mother had already assigned Liu Qishuang’s chores for the day yesterday. As soon as he got up, he went to the kitchen to stoke the fire and prepare the pig feed.

Her parents and grandfather had also risen.

As soon as he got up, Grandpa Liu carried out the white-stem reeds he’d cut the day before to sort out the reed cores. This stuff could be sold for cash—and not cheaply at that. He wouldn’t get scolded for doing this work, and sure enough, when Liu Congxiang and Xu Shifan saw him, they didn’t say a word; they just grabbed their tools and headed out.

Xu Shifan went into the mountains with a few other men from the village; no one knew exactly what they were going to do. Liu Congxiang was also heading into the mountains, but she wasn’t taking the same route as Xu Shifan.

Yesterday, Liu Congxiang obtained a few bamboo shoots and made pork buns with diced bamboo shoots. Xu Shifan found them delicious and had her go back into the mountains today to gather some more; if they dug up enough, they could even take them to town to sell.

The couple naturally knew about Liu Qishuang helping the Wan family sell wild vegetables for a few days. Because of this, last night the two of them had spent quite a while trading barbs and berating Wan Dongyang, insisting that they absolutely couldn’t let him get rich. If he were to become a landlord in the future, the villagers would never have a good life.

He’s a scoundrel even more heartless than a skin-flaying landlord.

After the couple left, Liu Qishuang didn’t even bother to brew loquat leaf tea for his grandfather first. Instead, he ran out of the courtyard, waited until his parents were out of sight, and then hurried back inside with a bamboo pole in hand.

When Liu Qishuang came out of the house again, his face was beaming, and he seemed to be humming a tune. Grandpa Liu smiled too. “What’s got you so happy?”

“Grandpa, don’t worry about it—it’s good news, anyway.” Liu Qishuang wasn’t just humming a tune now; his steps had grown much lighter as well. He skipped off toward the kitchen to take care of the urgent matter, after which he would go brew some tea for Grandpa.

Grandpa Liu sat under the eaves sorting white-stem reeds. Watching his grandson’s cheerful figure bounce along like a little rabbit, he smiled happily too—but as he smiled, his smile gradually faded.

Only when his parents were away did this child actually act like a child.

Liu Qishuang’s greatest worry these days was his grandfather’s illness. He had paid close attention this morning: although his grandfather was still coughing, the episodes weren’t as long as before. He’d coughed for about half an hour—already half the time it used to take.

Moreover, the coughing was no longer a relentless, unending fit that left him gasping for air. This morning, it was mostly just two or three coughs in a row—a significant improvement.

It seemed the loquat tea had done some good after all; it hadn’t been drunk in vain.

Knowing his grandfather was feeling better, Liu Qishuang didn’t give up on his plan to take him to town. He simply thought that since the illness had eased, the medical costs would likely be lower, allowing them to save a little cash. This pleased him, and his smile grew even wider than before.

Boiling the loquat water was quick; it was ready in just a moment. Liu Qishuang called his grandfather into the house to drink it. By the time his grandfather had finished, the large pot of pig feed was also boiling, so he began stirring it.

To fatten the pigs in the pen, one couldn’t just feed them grass. When cooking the pig feed, he had to mix in some rice bran, wheat bran, or even corn meal, stirring it evenly so the pot of grassy broth had a hint of grain flavor. Only then would the pigs eat heartily and put on weight.

Corn is expensive, so only a small amount is used, but a little must be sprinkled in anyway. Pork is even more expensive, after all. Only when the pigs are fattened up can the cash spent on grain and the labor invested in tending them be recouped.

Once the pig feed is cooked, he must first scoop out a bucketful to set aside to cool, then pour it into the trough at the hour of the snake.

After preparing the pig feed, Liu Qishuang still had to head to the vegetable garden to work; she had plenty of tasks to tackle today.

In recent days, the leaves of the onions and garlic in the vegetable garden had nearly withered away. Most of the leafy greens had bolted, and their flower stalks had grown so old they’d already bloomed. However, the garlic chives along the edge of the plot had burst with new life and were now growing wildly.

Gazing at the rows of tender garlic chives along the field’s edge, Liu Qishuang couldn’t help but glance at the wheat field nearby. Come April or May, after the wheat harvest, every household would steam buns to eat. Among the fillings villagers commonly used, garlic chives were an absolute must—they and flour were a match made in heaven; paired together, they made anything taste delicious.

The stems of the thick-skinned vegetable could grow nearly as tall as a person, and they would branch out as well. Just a few plants could fill a small dustpan. Liu Qishuang spent quite a while simply cutting the chives, and then she still had to carry them all into the courtyard.

Not a single leaf or stalk could be wasted; they all had to be chopped up, dried in the sun, and stored for future use.

There’s plenty to do in the summer, and sometimes days of heavy rain make it impossible to go outside. That’s why farmers set aside some pig fodder to dry. When they’re too busy to get out, they can simply boil the dried fodder to feed the pigs, saving them the trouble of finding time or braving the rain to gather fresh fodder.

Once the vegetables in the field were cleared, he still had to dig up the roots. The task sounded simple, but it was actually quite tiring.

Before he knew it, an hour had passed. Liu Qishuang’s back was already aching, yet the work wasn’t finished. Fortunately, there wasn’t much left—just a small patch of land around the corner of the courtyard.

Just as Liu Congxiang and her husband returned, arguing loudly, Liu Qishuang was about to finish up. He rarely saw his parents fight; though curious, he dared not ask. He simply worked quickly to dig up the last few vegetable roots and hurried back inside.

When Liu Qishuang returned, he saw that several thick-skinned vegetables had been kicked flying across the courtyard, and even the reed cores his grandfather had neatly arranged were scattered everywhere. His grandfather was busy picking up the white-stem reeds all over the yard.

Grandfather and grandson exchanged a glance. Without a single unnecessary word, they quietly gathered the white-stem reed cores scattered by the couple, all the while keeping a close ear on the sounds coming from inside the house.

His parents were still arguing. Liu Qishuang listened patiently for a while and finally understood the reason for their quarrel. It seemed his father intended to purchase longevity wood for his grandparents on the other side, but his mother refused to agree.

“How old are they, anyway? Do they really need to prepare a coffin already? And even if they do, how can we possibly spend that much silver on it?” Liu Congxiang’s voice trembled with tears, and as soon as the words left his mouth, she broke down sobbing.

Xu Shifan’s tone had softened by now, but he still refused to back down. “It’s only seven or eight taels of silver. How is that too much? We have it at home, don’t we?”

Hearing his father’s words, Liu Qishuang couldn’t help but twitch his lips. He couldn’t fathom how he had the nerve to say such a thing.

Why didn’t he mention how that silver was saved? Or how long had it been saved? And most importantly, the family likely had no more than those seven or eight taels to begin with. If he were to give it all away now, how could his mother possibly agree? She was still hoping to have a son, and how could the family manage without cash if she gave birth to a son?

Knowing this matter wouldn’t end well, Liu Qishuang felt an uncontrollable surge of excitement. He secretly cheered the two on in his mind, his head filled with the words “fight it out,” “fight it out,” but in the end, the two of them still let him down.

Before long, his mother’s sobbing grew fainter and fainter, while his father’s soothing voice grew louder and louder. At that, Liu Qishuang understood.

She’d been placated again; it seemed a fight wasn’t going to happen after all.

“Ah.” With a sigh of disappointment, Liu Qishuang turned his attention back to his work, only to be met by his mother’s scolding.

“You good-for-nothing! That wretch from the Jiang family said she called you over to get some medicine today. What on earth is going on? Did you go over there to run up a tab?” Liu Congxiang still had tear streaks on her face, and her eyes were red, but that didn’t stop her from turning a dark shade of anger. With one hand on her hip and the other pointing at Liu Qishuang, she looked as if she were about to lay hands on him.

Liu Qishuang quickly turned to face his mother and explained hurriedly, “Grandpa’s been coughing for so long. I went to the Jiang family and asked Doctor Jiang; he said that if I gave him some loquat flowers, he’d give me some medicine. I didn’t run a tab—it didn’t cost me any cash.”

Liu Qishuang felt conflicted about this explanation, but he simply couldn’t think of a better way out. Deep down, he knew that Wan Changqing’s mother was right—his grandmother had indeed been killed by his own mother.

Back then, his grandmother had fallen ill, but his mother wouldn’t spend any cash on medicine. What started as a minor illness turned into a serious one, and in the end, she slowly wasted away and died.

He knew even more clearly that his parents had no intention of letting his grandfather live either. That was why, when his grandfather had been coughing for so long, they not only refused to buy him medicine but actually moved him into the cow shed. And now, upon learning he was going to the Jiang family to get medicine, they were getting angry.

They didn’t care about the decoction made from loquat leaves—they probably knew a few leaves wouldn’t do much good. Their current outburst must mean the Jiang family’s herbal remedy actually works. They’re afraid that if Grandpa drinks it and recovers, he’ll once again become a thorn in their side.

But the irony is that what the Jiang family gave was nothing more than a few loquat leaves. If they found out, who knows how they’d react.

A thousand thoughts raced through Liu Qishuang’s mind, though it all happened in the blink of an eye. His hunch had been correct—his mother did indeed fly into a rage and was about to come forward to punish him. Yet his luck held today; just as she was about to strike him, a visitor arrived at the house.

And the visitor was none other than the matriarch from the Xu family.