They’d gathered quite a few bamboo shoots in the yard. Chen Cuihua had spent the whole day digging them up on the back mountain, planning to take the oxcart into town tomorrow to sell them.

It wasn’t time to cook yet, so Chen Cuihua simply brought over a stool to sort through the pile of bamboo shoots she’d gathered.

Produce from the fields inevitably gets dirty, so Chen Cuihua gathered some corn husks from the backyard and wiped the mud off the bamboo shoots. Although it wouldn’t fetch a few extra copper coins, the shoots looked much cleaner.

Song Ning imitated Chen Cuihua and picked up a corn husk to wipe the bamboo shoots as well. Chen Cuihua let out a sigh. “You don’t need to do this. Your hands will get dirty, and you’ve been copying books all day—you must be pretty tired.”

“Mother, I’m not tired. It’s just nice to get out and stretch my legs a bit.”

Chen Cuihua’s heart was filled with joy. Life was getting better and better these days. This year, the family had acquired a large yellow ox, and the chickens and ducks they used to raise and sell for copper coins had been replaced with a new batch of chicks.

She used to feel that life at home was cold and lonely, with no one to talk to. But ever since Ning-ger had arrived, the house had come alive with energy. If they were to have a little one running around the house in the future, things would be even livelier.

The more Chen Cuihua thought about it, the happier she became, and her hands moved with increasing speed as she worked.

“Don’t be fooled by how many bamboo shoots we’ve harvested—they won’t fetch much. Each one’s only worth a wen. People just want to try something fresh, but after all the hard work hauling this heavy load to town, it’s hardly worth a few copper coins.”

That evening, Chen Cuihua prepared stir-fried bamboo shoots with cured pork and steamed a full pot of rice. The pork was fried until glossy and glistening, carrying a hint of pine and cypress. The freshly dug bamboo shoots were crisp and refreshing. Song Ning ate quite a bit with his rice; the aroma was so enticing that the little colored weasel at home kept circling his legs and purring.

Song Ning didn’t copy texts that night either; the oil lamp was too dim, and he was afraid he’d make a mistake while copying the characters. He washed up early and went to bed.

It was already spring, and it wasn’t cold at night under the quilt anymore. Song Ning was in the habit of rolling over toward Wei Hu, but when he did, he found the space empty. Half-asleep and grumbling in dissatisfaction, he shifted closer to where Wei Hu used to lie.

Without Wei Hu lying beside him, Song Ning didn’t sleep very soundly; in his dreams, he always felt like something was missing.

From behind the house came the clucking of chickens, along with the sound of something being knocked over. Song Ning was already sleeping restlessly, and though the sounds were faint, they startled him awake instantly.

At first, he thought he’d misheard it. He rolled over, intending to go back to sleep, but then the squawking of chickens and ducks came again. Startled, Song Ning quickly threw on his outer garment and got up.

Today was the first day Brother Wei Hu was away from home, and Hei Dou and Hua Dou had both gone into the mountains with him. Could it be that some thugs had climbed into his yard to steal the cow!

That cow was the result of the whole family’s hard work, saving up every single copper coin—nearly thirty taels of silver. It was the most valuable thing the family owned.

Fearing the cow might be stolen, Song Ning didn’t even light a lamp; he groped his way through the darkness to the main hall, grabbed a stick, and thought to himself: it would be a lie to say he wasn’t afraid. But if a thief really had broken in, he’d fight him to the death!

Song Ning quietly opened the main hall door and tiptoed over to Chen Cuihua’s window. He reached out and knocked, “Mother, Mother.”

His voice was so soft it was barely louder than the sound of his knocking. The moonlight outside was dim, and Song Ning was already frightened; a gust of wind sent a shiver down his spine.

“Mother, Mother.” Song Ning called out softly twice more.

“Who’s there!” Chen Cuihua, who was fast asleep inside, snapped sharply at the sound of someone calling her name. Song Ning quickly turned around, afraid he might have alerted the intruder. “Mother, it’s me. In our backyard… it seems… there’s a noise.”

Upon hearing there was a noise in the backyard, Chen Cuihua hurriedly got up. The backyard housed cattle, chickens, and ducks—all of which were the family’s prized possessions!

Chen Cuihua came out and shushed Song Ning. “I’ll go take a look. I’ll see which blind fool has sneaked onto our property!”

Without another word, Chen Cuihua went into the kitchen and grabbed a kitchen knife. The two of them crouched low as they made their way to the backyard. Chen Cuihua peered over the edge of the house. The dim moonlight made it hard to see clearly; from a distance, she couldn’t tell if the shadow was a person or just the outline of a shed.

Song Ning also peered out from below. After staring for a while, he saw no one. “Mom, there’s no one there. Maybe I heard wrong.” 

No sooner had Song Ning finished speaking than a clatter came from the chicken coop again. Chen Cuihua rushed out, knife in hand. “Come out here, you!” 

Song Ning hurried out as well, club in hand. “Come out! Come out!”

Something darted out of the chicken coop, and then a dark figure pounced on it, pinning it to the ground. Startled, Song Ning let out a gasp and swung his stick, ready to strike.

Chen Cuihua quickly grabbed him. “It’s our little calico cat!”

The two looked closely and saw their nearly grown Xiao Caili clutching something nearly as big as itself, holding it down on the ground as it shook its head and began tearing at it from both sides.

The two walked over. The creature that had been bitten tried to run away when it heard the noise, but the cat had it firmly clamped in its jaws. Chen Cuihua laughed out loud, “My, my! So it’s a weasel after all!”

Song Ning also breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought we had a burglar in the house.”

“That gave me quite a scare. With Huzi out of the house, I was worried someone might have broken in. I never expected it to be a weasel coming to steal our chickens.”

Xiao Caili ran off to the roof of the shed, still clutching the weasel in her mouth.

Seeing that it wasn’t a burglar, the two of them breathed a sigh of relief. Chen Cuihua went to check the chicken coop and found that the chicks she’d gathered into the nest had all scattered.

She was afraid the chicks were too small and might be snatched by weasels or mice, so every day just before dark, she would gather the chickens from the pen and put them in the chicken nest she had woven. It was a round-bottomed, closed-top nest; once the chicks were inside, they couldn’t get out, and she had placed a wooden board on top to secure the opening.

The two of them saw that the chicks, who should have been in the nest, had all run out, and the wicker nest lay overturned on the ground.

“Oh my, the coop’s been kicked over. Mom, go get the oil lamp—we can’t have them eat a chicken or two.” 

“Okay.”

Song Ning replied, and Chen Cuihua went inside to fetch the oil lamp. When she returned, the two of them went in to round up the chicks. The chicks, startled, were now huddled together in a tight cluster inside the coop, and as soon as they approached, the chicks began squawking frantically.

Song Ning reached in and caught them one by one, placing them back in the coop. “One, two, three…” 

“Mom, they’re all here. Not a single one is missing.”

They’d bought ten chicks back then, and his mother had taken such good care of them that not a single one had died. Chen Cuihua smiled. “Don’t let our little Caili’s small size fool you—she managed to catch such a big weasel.”

After herding all the chickens into the coop, Song Ning put the cover back on. The little ducklings nearby had to be herded into their nest every day as well, and thankfully, the weasel hadn’t managed to knock their nest over.

“All done. Let’s hurry back to bed—it’s still early.” 

“Okay.”

“If anything happens, don’t come out—just shout for Mom inside, and I’ll hear you.”

Song Ning nodded sheepishly; he’d just been crouched under the window of the east room, and it really had been quite scary. After all that commotion, Song Ning was tired. He yawned, wrapped himself in his blanket, and fell asleep.

The next day, as soon as dawn broke, he heard his mother already up, stoking the fire to cook breakfast. Song Ning got up too. He hadn’t slept well the night before, and in the wee hours of the morning, a weasel had sneaked in to steal a chicken, so he was still half-asleep when he got up.

“Mom, you’re up so early.”

“Oh, after we eat, I’m going to take a stroll around town.”

She was going to town to sell bamboo shoots today, so Chen Cuihua had risen early and was already bustling about the stove.

It was still a bit chilly this morning, but the breeze blew Song Ning fully awake. He first went to the back yard to clean out the chicken and duck pens, then let the chicks and ducklings out of their nests to run around, mixing wheat bran with wild greens to feed them.

Song Ning led the family cow out. “Mom, I’m going to take the cow out to graze for a bit.”

“Alright, but come back soon, son. Don’t be late for breakfast.”

“I know, Mother.”

It was still early in the morning; the wild grass by the roadside was still covered in dew. Song Ning led his family’s ox not too far away, letting it graze by the nearby stream.

Country folk are hardworking; even this early in the morning, one could see quite a few people about—some heading to the back mountain to pick wild vegetables, others gathering fodder for their pigs, and still others carrying hoes to the fields to weed…

Song Ning stood to the side, watching his ox graze. To save himself the trouble of cutting grass to bring home, he simply led the ox out; once it had eaten its fill, he’d just lead it back.

Song Ning watched with great interest. The young yellow ox lowered its head to munch on the fresh, tender wild grass. With a flick of its long tongue, it pulled the grass into its mouth, making a rustling sound, and in no time, a patch of grass was completely stripped bare.

“Hey, Ning-ger, are you herding the cow?”

“Oh, Auntie went to pick wild greens.” 

“I brought back some gray-leaved greens.”

A villager passing by called out a greeting. The countryside morning was peaceful and serene; Song Ning really enjoyed leading his family’s cow out early in the morning. The morning breeze made him feel a bit more refreshed.

Seeing that the cow had eaten its fill, Song Ning was about to head home, tugging on the reins, when he heard the sounds of children playing near the stream.

“Little Blind Boy, Little Blind Boy!”

“Hmm, come and grab it, come and grab it!”

The ravine was about a meter deep, but it was dry. At first, Song Ning thought the children were just playing around. But when he heard someone call out “Little Blind Boy,” he peered over and saw several older kids surrounding and bullying a younger one!

A bamboo basket had tipped over in the ditch, spilling its bamboo shoots everywhere. The other kids were tossing the shoots around, scattering them all over the place, while the bullied child, head bowed, was picking them up.

Song Ning recognized the child immediately—it was the son of that half-blind old man who played the erhu! Song Ning hurried over, pulling his ox along, shouting, “What are you doing? What are you doing?”

The other kids, seeing an adult approaching, quickly dropped the bamboo shoots and ran off. The bullied boy glanced timidly at Song Ning, then lowered his head to continue picking up his bamboo shoots.

Song Ning slid down to help him gather the bamboo shoots into his backpack. The boy looked frail and scrawny, yet he’d managed to collect quite a large basketful of bamboo shoots—it was a mystery how he’d managed to carry it all.

“Let me carry that up for you.”

The ger shook his head and started climbing up, still carrying that heavy load of bamboo shoots. Song Ning was afraid the basket might cause him to fall, so he reached out to give him a pull. The ger hunched over and trudged on, shouldering that incredibly heavy load.

Chen Cuihua had already finished cooking. Seeing that Song Ning hadn’t returned yet, she stood at the doorway calling out to him, “Ning-ger, Ning-ger, come home for dinner!” 

“Okay! I’m coming!”

Song Ning led his ox home. Since the boy was going the same way, and seeing Song Ning coming, he lowered his head and walked even faster. Afraid of startling him, Song Ning led his ox slowly toward home.

Chen Cuihua was just setting the food on the table—rice and jujube porridge, and pan-fried pancakes. Song Ning washed his hands and joined them. He picked up a piece of pancake and placed it in his bowl. His mother’s cooking was simply delicious; the pancakes were fried to a golden brown, and the batter was mixed with scallions, making them incredibly fragrant.

Song Ning took a bite of the fragrant pan-fried pancake, followed by a sip of hot soup, and felt completely at ease. “Mom, did you put an egg in it?”

“I put two in. These pancakes taste best with eggs.”

“Too bad Brother Wei Hu can’t have any. I wonder how he’s doing.”

“Your brother Huzi is a grown man. There’s no way he can earn a penny without putting up with a little hardship. Try rolling up some red fermented tofu and shredded scallions—it’s even more fragrant.”

“Mmm!”

Song Ning stopped after eating two and a half. They were so delicious, but he was afraid he’d overeat if he kept going.

Chen Cuihua finished eating and began packing up to head into town. She hitched the oxcart and loaded the bamboo baskets filled with bamboo shoots from the yard onto it—there were six baskets in total.

That was quite a load of bamboo shoots—it took Song Ning and Chen Cuihua working together just to get them all onto the cart.

“Mom, I saw the kid from the erhu player’s family gathering a bunch of bamboo shoots this morning, too. He got kicked into the ditch by a few other kids who were picking on him. Ugh, those kids.”

“You mean Lan’er? I saw him when I called you to eat. That ger is quite hardworking—he gets up early to work every morning.”

“That ger has it pretty rough, living with Zhang Banxia. His family doesn’t even own a patch of land; they rely entirely on Zhang Banxia playing the erhu to get by. Zhang Banxia used to be a street musician playing the erhu—he didn’t have a place to stay either. I don’t know where he picked up that ger, but he settled down in our village.”

Song Ning felt a bit gloomy as he listened, regretting that he hadn’t given those brats a good beating just now. Wasn’t this just bullying? Chen Cuihua found some rope and tied the baskets securely. She climbed onto the oxcart. “All right, Mother’s off to town.”

“Hey, Mother, take it easy.”

Song Ning saw Chen Cuihua off at the gate. He then moved the dining table out of the house, intending to copy texts in the courtyard.

Song Ning sat up straight and began copying the text, while the little red fox rolled around in the courtyard. Before he knew it, it was midday. Song Ning stretched and went to cook. Since he was the only one home and his cooking skills were poor, he saw that there were a few leftover pancakes left, so he warmed them up and ate a few.

Chen Cuihua returned in the early afternoon. Song Ning hurriedly got up from the table, poured some hot tea, and brought it over to her. “Mother, you’re back.”

Chen Cuihua smiled. “These bamboo shoots don’t fetch much, but they sell pretty well. I made fifty or sixty copper coins from this load.”

No wonder it’s rare to see people selling bamboo shoots in town. If someone carried a basket of them on their back, they wouldn’t make much—it’s hard work for little pay. If their family didn’t have an oxcart now, they wouldn’t bother with these bamboo shoots either.

“Mom, have you eaten yet?”

“I have. I ate in town.”

Chen Cuihua couldn’t sit still. After unhitching the oxcart, she led the ox out to graze. With one of them at home copying texts and the other digging and selling bamboo shoots, the days passed rather quickly.

Song Ning blew on the ink on the paper; he was almost done copying. Brother Wei Hu had been in the mountains for four days now—why hadn’t he come back yet? He’d said he’d be back in three or five days. If he didn’t come back today, he’d definitely be back tomorrow.

Song Ning got up and took a few steps, glancing toward the doorway. Just then, he saw his dog, Hei Dou, sprinting toward the house. Song Ning’s face lit up. “Hei Dou!”

Song Ning scanned the distance but didn’t see Wei Hu. He must be further back. Song Ning ran toward the back of the mountain and sure enough, saw Wei Hu coming back with a load on his back.

“Brother Wei Hu!”

Wei Hu also spotted Song Ning and smiled at him. Song Ning jogged over. “I figured you’d be back any day now. I was actually worried about you.”

“I’m back.”

Song Ning took the wild pheasant from Wei Hu’s hands, his eyes sparkling as he walked beside him. “Brother Wei Hu, did you run into any danger?”

“No, I’m fine.”

The two walked home together. Song Ning heard a whimpering sound coming from the basket on Wei Hu’s back. Curious, he took a peek. “Brother Wei Hu, what did you catch in there?”

“Something special. You’ll find out in a minute.”

As soon as Wei Hu got home, Song Ning was buzzing around him, helping unload his things and pouring him tea—he was overjoyed to see him back.

Wei Hu had come back with quite a haul this time: five wild pheasants, four wild rabbits, and two things hidden under the grass in his backpack. Song Ning reached out curiously to see what they were, but Wei Hu quickly grabbed his hand. “Let me handle it—these little guys are feisty.”

Wei Hu lifted the grass to reveal two striped baby wild boars at the bottom of the basket!

It was Song Ning’s first time seeing wild boar piglets. He leaned over the basket, watching them with great curiosity. The little creatures didn’t seem afraid of him at all; they were bouncing around as if they were about to charge him. Song Ning was itching to reach out and pet them—if Wei Hu hadn’t warned him they might bite, he would have tried to pick one up.

Chen Cuihua also returned carrying a load of bamboo shoots on her back. These shoots were only available for a short while; once this season passed, they’d be gone. Now that the family had an oxcart, they could earn whatever they could.

“Huzi’s back.”

“Mom, look! Brother Wei Hu brought us something good!”

Chen Cuihua set down the bamboo shoots and looked down to see that they were actually two wild boar piglets. “Oh my, how did you get these? Wild boars are fierce—you didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“No, I dug a pit to lure them in. When the boar realized it couldn’t get out, it left. These two little ones were stuck in the pit for three days before I managed to get them out.”

“A wild boar with piglets is really fierce,” Wei Hu said. “I didn’t want to take any chances, so I just dug a trap near where the boars were active and lured the piglets into it.”

“What are you planning to do with them? Keep them at home or sell them?” Chen Cuihua asked.

“Let’s sell them. They’re too wild; if we raise them, they might hurt someone.”

“You’re right.”

Song Ning watched for a moment before getting to work. After all, life in the mountains meant poor food and little sleep; once back home, he needed a few days to rest. He hurried to the kitchen to heat some water so Brother Wei Hu could have a nice, relaxing bath later.

Wei Hu brought out a limp wild pheasant he’d cleaned. It had been a while since they’d had meat at home, so he decided to stew the pheasant. Chen Cuihua also headed out with a basket. “I’m going to buy a few blocks of tofu.”

Dinner that evening was exceptionally lavish: wild pheasant stewed with bamboo shoots, tofu braised with scallions, stir-fried eggs with Chinese toon, cold-tossed lettuce leaves, and a whole pot of steamed buns.

Song Ning sat next to Wei Hu, constantly serving him food. Since it was hard to cook over a fire up in the mountains, the food here certainly couldn’t compare to what they had at home. The family ate together in a lively atmosphere; even Hei Dou, Hua Dou was given some chicken feet and necks to mix with his rice.

“Mom, did you take some bamboo shoots to town to sell?”

“Well, now that we have an oxcart at home, it’s just sitting there idle, so I figured I might as well haul some bamboo shoots.” “Mom, you’re never idle all year round. It’s not worth it to wear yourself out like that.”

Song Ning nodded in agreement. “Brother Wei Hu is right, Mother. You should take a break, too.”

A basket of bamboo shoots is surprisingly heavy, and carrying them all day is exhausting. Song Ning tried to talk her out of it, but his mother wouldn’t listen. She felt it was like picking up pennies.

“Why wouldn’t I do it? Back when we didn’t have an oxcart, carrying basket after basket to town to sell wasn’t worth the trouble. Now that we have an oxcart, every little bit helps.”

“There’s nothing much to do in the fields, and nothing much to do at home either. I can’t just sit around doing nothing.”

Song Ning tugged at Wei Hu’s sleeve, urging him to say something. “You’re working yourself to the bone now, but if you hurt your health when you’re old, it won’t be good.” 

Wei Hu cleared his throat. “Mom, if you keep working like this, how will you take care of me and Ning-ger’s kids if you wear yourself out?”

Chen Cuihua’s eyes lit up. “Ning-ger has a child?”

Song Ning, who was drinking chicken soup at the time, choked and started coughing. “No, no.”

“You will, soon.”

Although there wasn’t one yet, Chen Cuihua was still pleased to hear it. She poured more chicken soup into Song Ning’s bowl. “Ning-ger, hurry up and give your mother a grandson. I’ll help you take care of the baby when the time comes.”

Wei Hu’s persuasion had clearly worked; Chen Cuihua said she wouldn’t sell bamboo shoots in town anymore—she’d just stay home.

That night, Wei Hu lay down on the comfortable bed. As soon as Song Ning rolled over, he ended up in Wei Hu’s arms—sleeping, nestled against Brother Wei Hu, really was the most comfortable.

Brother Wei Hu had just taken a bath, and his body still carried a faint scent of soapberry.

Song Ning finally understood what it meant when they say “absence makes the heart grow fonder.” Clinging to Wei Hu, he chattered away, telling him about how a weasel had gotten into the chicken coop on the very first day he’d left. As he spoke, he giggled, “It scared me to death—I thought it was a cattle thief!”

He asked about what had happened on the mountain, and Wei Hu told him all about it. Neither of them was usually very talkative, but after not seeing each other for several days, they couldn’t help but want to say a few more words.

As they talked, they ended up rolling around together. Song Ning blushed with embarrassment—what on earth were these strange positions?

Song Ning was so flustered by his teasing that he did whatever Wei Hu told him to do, which only made him more unstoppable. They carried on until the wee hours of the night before he finally fell asleep, contentedly holding him close.

If it weren’t for the fact that they still had to go to town, Song Ning would have loved to stay in bed. Rubbing her waist and yawning, she got up. Brother Wei Hu was really so naughty—he’d teased her into calling him “brother” and “husband” all over the place, but now that they were out of bed, why wasn’t he making her call him that anymore?

Wei Hu was back, so he didn’t have to take the family ox out to graze anymore. When he got up, his mother was cooking in the kitchen. Seeing Song Ning awake, she pretended not to notice a thing. “If only we could have a baby soon—the house would be so lively then.”

After breakfast, Wei Hu hitched up the oxcart, and Song Ning went along with him. He was going to deliver the copied Heart Sutra to someone. The cart was loaded with six baskets of bamboo shoots and a basket of game. The two of them sat up front, driving the cart.

“Mom, Brother Wei Hu, and I are off. You rest at home, or go chat with the neighbors.” 

“I know, I know. Those bamboo shoots are one wen each.”

“Got it, Mom.”

Song Ning and Wei Hu drove the ox cart into town, hauling a load of goods. Although the bamboo shoots weren’t worth much, they were still the envy of others. Who wouldn’t want to sell them? But if they had to rent someone else’s ox cart, the money from selling the bamboo shoots wouldn’t even cover the rental fee.