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Even Chen Cuihua found it amusing. “This magistrate—he’s either a fool or a shrewd one.”

She laughed at her own remark—what else could it be?

Lan-ger, finding it all quite amusing, tugged at Song Ning’s sleeve and asked eagerly, “Auntie Ning, can that sheepskin really talk? Whose is it, anyway?”

Song Ning ruffled Lan-ger’s hair. “The magistrate had the sheepskin flogged with ten strokes, which made the onlookers burst into laughter. They all mocked him for being a clueless official. But the magistrate didn’t get angry. Once the flogging was over, he craned his neck to look, then slammed his gavel and ordered the bailiffs to give the shepherd ten strokes as well.”

“The shepherd protested his innocence, insisting he was wronged. The magistrate told him to look for himself. When he saw a layer of salt had fallen from the sheepskin after the beating, everyone finally understood.”

Lan-ger let out a gasp. “Auntie Ning, I get it! The merchant was hauling salt, and his sheepskin got covered in it!”

Song Ning smiled. “That’s right. Our Lan’er is quite clever.”

Lan-ger giggled and pestered Song Ning to tell him several more stories; even when the oxcart reached their doorstep, he still wasn’t ready to stop.

Song Ning saw that the wooden gate to his home was wide open. His heart leapt with joy. He peered into the courtyard and, sure enough, saw smoke rising from the kitchen. Song Ning hurriedly jumped down from the ox cart, startling Chen Cuihua. “Oh my, take it easy!”

Song Ning ran over to the kitchen. “Brother Wei Hu!”

Wei Hu was cooking in the kitchen. He’d come down from the mountain and, seeing no one around, realized Song Ning had gone to town with the others today. He tidied up the house first, then started cooking.

Seeing his husband running toward him with sparkling eyes, Wei Hu smiled. “Are you hot?”

“Not at all. I rode in an oxcart. Brother Wei Hu, why did you come back so early this time?”  

“I caught some fish and shrimp, but they wouldn’t keep, so I came back early.”

Song Ning circled around Wei Hu and saw a large blue carp simmering in the pot. Wei Hu gave him a gentle nudge. “It’s hot in here. Go outside and have a drink of water.”

“Okay!”

As soon as Song Ning stepped outside, he saw his mother and Lan-ger unloading the cart. He hurried over to help, so caught up in his excitement that he’d forgotten to unload the items from the ox cart.

Together, they unloaded the market stalls, pots, and stoves. They also untied the oxcart and pushed it aside to give the family’s ox a chance to stretch its legs.

It was still quite sunny in the middle of the day. Chen Cuihua fetched some water to wash her face and hands, and when she saw the wooden basin full of fish and shrimp, she gasped, “You caught quite a haul!”

Lan’er peered into the basin too. Uncle Huzi was truly skilled—every time he came back from the mountains, he brought back plenty of game. If only he could be as good as Uncle Huzi.

Wei Hu called out to Lan-ger, “There’s a basket of wild cherries in the main hall. Wash them up and have some, Lan-ger.” 

“Okay!”

Lan-ger ran into the main room to take a look. Sure enough, there was a basket of wild cherries on the table. Though they weren’t very big, every single one was bright red. Lan-ger took a bowl, washed some, and brought them out, offering them first to Song Ning and Chen Cuihua. This prompted Chen Cuihua to praise Lan-ger for being so thoughtful.

Song Ning grabbed a handful. The wild cherries were quite sweet with a hint of tartness—he really liked them. With the weather getting hot, eating something sweet and tart was quite appetizing.

Lunch was prepared by Wei Hu: braised bighead carp, cold boiled shrimp salad, and a few small fish stewed in a tofu and fish soup. The aroma was so enticing that Lan-ger kept peeking into the kitchen.

Wei Hu served Lan-ger first. One basket wasn’t enough, so he filled two. Lan-ger carried one in each hand. Song Ning was worried the little boy might not be able to hold them, so he said, “I’ll walk you home.”

“Auntie Ning, I can handle it.” “Then take your time walking home. Don’t rush.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Lan-ger set off cheerfully with his baskets. Halfway there, he ran into a pale-faced woman with powdered cheeks who called out to him, “Oh, isn’t this Lan-ger? Heading home for dinner, are you?”

Lan-ger didn’t quite recognize the woman, though she looked vaguely familiar. He eyed her warily. “Mm-hmm.”

The woman acted as if they were old friends and asked, “Don’t you remember me? Didn’t you see me at the wedding banquet the other day? How’s your grandfather, Zhang Banxia? I haven’t seen him out playing the erhu for people lately.”

Lan-ger couldn’t place her, assuming she was just a villager. “My grandpa’s doing just fine.” Not wanting to chat with her, he grabbed his basket and hurried home.

Even after Lan-ger had walked far away, the woman kept staring after him. Waving her handkerchief, she muttered, “Tsk, that Zhang Banxia sure knows how to raise a child. Lan-ger must be seven years old now, right? I hear he works for Chen Cuihua’s family—he must make at least ten copper coins a day. He’s not very old, but he’s quite capable.”

After Lan-ger left, the three of them sat down in the courtyard to eat. Song Ning really liked the cold shrimp salad and ate several servings. The weather was getting warmer, and something cold was just the thing to whet the appetite.

Over the meal, Chen Cuihua recounted the day’s events, still sounding a bit angry as she spoke. “Thank goodness Ning’er is so smart. Otherwise, we’d never have been able to figure out whose copper coins those were, and we’d have been unfairly accused by that husband.”

Wei Hu frowned as he listened. “I’ll go teach them a lesson tomorrow.”

“No need. I don’t think his business will last. He’ll probably be driven out, and things will be peaceful from now on.”

Fortunately, the outcome was favorable, and Chen Cuihua finally felt a little more at ease.

She served Wei Hu and Song Ning some fish with her chopsticks. “Let’s eat. Don’t dwell on those troubles. We’re living a good life now.”

The young couple lived in harmony. In the courtyard, two dogs lay under the shade of a tree, and the little red fox was chasing butterflies in the vegetable patch. Chickens, ducks, and a cow—they had it all now. Life was better than it had been even when Wei Hu’s father was still around.

When it cooled down a bit in the afternoon, Wei Hu drove the oxcart back into town. The shrimp were long since dead, but a basin of fish was still gasping for air. He’d caught them from the mountain using his fish-hunting technique—they weren’t exactly leaping about, but at least they were still alive.

Wei Hu didn’t let Song Ning come along. He’d just been to town that morning, so she should just rest at home. He’d sell these goods in town for a good price, and that would be that.

Chen Cuihua didn’t have much to do that afternoon, so she went out for a stroll. Lan-ger came over to tend the cattle but didn’t see them. Song Ning told him to go play with the other kids—Wei Hu had taken the oxen to town.

“Then I’ll go cut some grass.”

Since he didn’t have to tend the cattle today, Lan-ger didn’t want to sit around idly. He slung his basket over his back and headed to the riverbank to cut grass. Song Ning patted Hua Dou on the head. “Go play with Lan-ger.”

Hua Dou wagged his tail and ran over.

Song Ning was worried that Lan-ger might get bullied by those kids, so whenever Hua Dou and Hei Dou were home, he’d have him tag along. Those kids had been chased away by Hua Dou a while back, but now that they hadn’t seen him in a long time, they’d come back to pick on him.

Song Ning gathered some wild cherries and threw a few small fish from home into the basket as well. He hadn’t seen Qiu-ger in a few days, so since he had nothing else to do today, he decided to drop by and see him.

When Song Ning arrived, Qiu-ger was embroidering in the courtyard. He was always busy with something. Song Ning called out to Qiu-ger and walked in. Qiu-ger was quite happy to see Song Ning. “Got some free time today?”

“Taking a break. My wrist’s sore from all that copying. You should take a break too—every time I see you, you’re always embroidering.”

Only then did Qiu-ger set aside the embroidery hoop in his hands. “We’ll have another mouth to feed soon, so I figured I’d embroider as much as I can while the weather’s still nice. Once it gets cold and the little one arrives, I won’t have time for it.”

Song Ning came out with some wild cherries. “Try one—they’re pretty sweet. I figured you’d like them. I also caught a few small fish; make some soup with them for dinner.” This made Qiu-ger wrap his arms around Song Ning’s and rub against him. “Oh my, Ning-ger, you’re so kind.”

Song Ning got goosebumps. “Why are you here alone? Where are Dazhuang and your mother?” 

“They went out to water the wheat fields. It hasn’t rained in over a month, and the fields are parched.”

Qiu-ger sat in a chair, a bowl of wild cherries in his lap, and began to eat. “You have no idea how much all the young couples in the village envy you. They say you don’t even have to cook at home—even Wei Hu, a grown man, is in the kitchen cooking.”

Qiu-ger laughed as he spoke. He still remembered how people had gossiped about Song Ning when he first came to the village, but now they were actually envious of how well he was doing.

“Come on, I cook too, you know.”

“Come on. Not only does Brother Huzi not want to put you to work, but even Aunt Cuihua won’t let you cook. You have no idea how envious those young couples are. Things are like this now, but once you get pregnant, I bet they’ll be feeding you right into your mouth.”

Song Ning blushed a little at the teasing. “Nonsense.”

The two sat together chatting idly. Although Qiu-ger didn’t go out much, he was well-informed. Old Lady Sun often went out for strolls; she didn’t gossip much anymore, but she’d come back and tell Qiu-ger all the latest news from this family and that.

Song Ning stayed for a while before heading home. Lan’er had already returned with a basket full of grass, so Song Ning went out to cut some more.

That night, as he lay in bed, Song Ning counted on his fingers, “I’ve saved up over twenty taels of silver now. That’s enough to buy four mu of good land. Add that to the three mu we already have at home, and seven mu of land will be enough to feed our family for a whole year.”

Song Ning sat up straight. “Why don’t we buy a few acres of land after the wheat harvest? Then you, Brother Wei Hu, won’t have to go up to the mountains anymore.”

“Deal,” Wei Hu agreed, and Song Ning finally felt at ease. Song Ning gently rubbed his calf against Wei Hu’s waist. “Shall we?”

How could Wei Hu refuse? If he weren’t worried that Song Ning’s body couldn’t handle it—he’d love to hold her in his arms every day—he’d have already done so. Instead, he coaxed him, “How about you’re on top today?”

Song Ning froze for a moment, then felt a bit shy. “No, let’s not.” Without waiting for a reply, Wei Hu picked him up. “Let’s try it.”

Song Ning had to put out the fire he’d started himself. The two of them carried on until the moon was high in the sky before finally calling it a night. Song Ning’s hair was a tangled mess, sticking to his cheeks, and he’d fallen asleep at some point without even realizing it.

When he woke up the next morning, he realized his undergarments had been changed at some point. Song Ning sat up, frowning. His lower back ached, and when he looked down, he saw red marks all over his waist. Blushing, he got to his feet.

As he got up, Wei Hu was drawing water from the cistern. Song Ning yawned and noticed the oxcart still parked in the yard. “Didn’t our mother go to town today?”

“She’s out in the fields. She said she’d water the wheat after lunch.”

Song Ning didn’t often visit their fields and didn’t know much about farming; Wei Hu and his mother, however, frequently went out to tend to the land.

After eating, the three of them headed out to the fields. They didn’t take the oxcart; Chen Cuihua felt bad for the family ox, which had to follow her to town every day, so she sent Lan’er to take it to the back mountain to graze.

Wei Hu carried a shoulder pole with two empty buckets hanging from it; Chen Cuihua did the same. Song Ning carried a hoe and wore a straw hat—he wanted to help water the crops too, but Wei Hu said he couldn’t handle carrying the water, so he told him to pull the weeds in the field instead.

By now, the wheat in the fields had grown as tall as a person’s calves; it would be ready for harvest by July or August, when the weather was at its hottest.

There was a river not far from the wheat field. Wei Hu and Chen Cuihua carried water to irrigate the field, while Song Ning weeded the field with his hoe. Song Ning wasn’t very skilled with the hoe; sometimes he accidentally uprooted the wheat, which scared him so much that he stopped using it altogether and simply started pulling the weeds by hand.

There wasn’t much weed in their field. His mother often dropped by in the afternoons when she had free time. The weeds would grow back as soon as they were pulled, and some even grew right alongside the wheat. Song Ning huffed and puffed as he pulled them out, piling the weeds together to feed to their big yellow ox.

The blazing sun made everyone feel a bit dizzy. After weeding for a while, Song Ning was drenched in sweat, not to mention Wei Hu and Chen Cuihua. Wei Hu had long since rolled up his sleeves and rolled up his pant legs, carrying two buckets of water at a time to water the field.

After walking around the field a few times, Song Ning had weeded most of it. Near the edge of the field, where it was close to the ditch, he simply used a gourd dipper to splash water on the plants, saving himself the trouble of carrying it up from the well.

Song Ning hadn’t been working long before his back and waist began to ache. Farm work was no easy task; it took him a whole day just to water those three mu of land. On the way back, Chen Cuihua fanned herself with her straw hat. “If it doesn’t rain soon, we’ll have to water them again when they start to wilt,” she said.

The rain was lighter today. There had been only a couple of showers in the spring, and even though summer had already begun, there hadn’t been a single heavy downpour yet. Farmers depend on the weather for their livelihood; if it rained, they wouldn’t have to water the wheat.

Before long, the weather grew hotter, and the rains became more frequent. By the time the wheat began to head, they didn’t need to water it after all—this year could truly be called a year of favorable weather.

With the rain, the weeds in the fields also flourished, sprouting up in wave after wave. When the rain got heavy, Wei Hu wouldn’t go into the mountains, and Chen Cuihua wouldn’t go out to set up her stall; everyone stayed home to rest.

After a heavy downpour, the ground was still damp. Wei Hu cleared the weeds from the yard, and his family’s vegetable garden grew even more lush, with cucumbers and yardlong beans climbing all over the trellises.

The sound of firecrackers echoed from the distance. It wasn’t a holiday or any special occasion, and they hadn’t heard of any weddings in the neighborhood. Chen Cuihua put down her needle and thread. “Huzi, go take a look. Don’t tell me Old Tongsheng has passed away.”

The Old Tongsheng caught a chill last winter and had been in poor health for the past six months; now that the weather had turned hot, he might not be able to hold on.

Wei Hu went out from the vegetable patch to see what was going on. A moment later, he returned with a young woman in tears.

It was the Old Tongsheng’s granddaughter-in-law. Chen Cuihua knew immediately what had happened—the Old Tongsheng had finally passed away after enduring so long. The woman, with a strip of burlap tied around her waist, didn’t even enter the courtyard. Chen Cuihua hurried over to comfort her. “Please take care of yourself.”

The woman wiped her tears. “I’ve come to ask for Brother Ning. There are some matters that require a clerk to come and handle them.”

“Of course, of course.”

Song Ning had never handled anything like this before, so Chen Cuihua went along with him. The courtyard was in chaos, filled with people: those setting up the funeral pavilion, mourners wailing, and the village head arranging for someone to deliver the news of the death. Song Ning also spotted Lan-ger; sitting in a corner nearby was Zhang Banxia, holding an erhu, his hands trembling uncontrollably.

Song Ning called Lan-ger over. “Is your grandfather all right? Why are you here?” 

“My grandfather said he wanted to come and see him off.”

“Then keep an eye on your grandfather.”

Zhang Banxia didn’t look well, and Song Ning was afraid something might happen to him.

Song Ning didn’t really know what to do once he arrived; he’d just gone over because the village chief had asked him to. He wrote a memorial couplet and didn’t return until it was pitch black.

Chen Cuihua was worried Song Ning would be afraid to be alone at night, so she told Wei Hu not to go into the mountains for the next few days. Song Ning was indeed a little scared; even though it was getting a bit hot now, he still snuggled up against Wei Hu when sleeping at night, sweating buckets.

“It’s fine. The funeral will be held in a couple of days.”

It was too hot to hold a long wake, so the funeral was held three days later. Song Ning went to serve as the scribe for the family. Funeral arrangements were far more complicated than wedding preparations, and even Song Ning found himself running around nonstop.

Zhang Banxia finally played the erhu for the old scholar, with Lan-ger accompanying him. When Zhang Banxia grew tired, he’d let Lan-ger take over. It was Lan-ger’s first time playing the erhu for someone else; he was a bit nervous, but he managed to pull it off. Zhang Banxia was quite pleased. “Very good, very good. Now you’ve got a skill to make a living.”

A few kids who had gathered to watch the spectacle huddled together, giggling and rolling their eyes at Lan-ger, mouthing the words “Zhang the Little Blind Man.”

Song Ning saw this and sent Wei Hu over to scare those rascals. As soon as Wei Hu approached, the boys scattered in all directions.

Song Ning walked over and praised Lan-ger, “You played very well—just as well as your grandfather.”

Zhang Banxia finally got his wish and played the erhu for the old scholar, but the next day he couldn’t get out of bed. Terrified, Lan-ger came running over crying,

“Auntie Ning, help! My grandfather—he can’t get up!”

Wei Hu had originally planned to pack up and head into the mountains today, but upon hearing Lan-ger’s words, he hurried over to check. Chen Cuihua was kneading dough inside the house and rushed over to take a look as well. “He was fine just yesterday. How come he suddenly can’t get up?”

Lan-ger was crying with tears streaming down his face. Song Ning was also startled and hurried over to hug and comfort him. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Uncle Huzi will go take a look.”

The whole family gathered around. Lan-ger kept crying, and Song Ning took a look as well. Zhang Banxia lay in bed, gasping for breath—it seemed his days were numbered.

Chen Cuihua had originally planned to go to town to sell pastries, but seeing his condition, she feared Zhang Banxia was in a bad way. Since Lan-ger was the only child in the family, she had Wei Hu drive the ox cart to fetch a doctor.

“Ning’er, take Lan’er back to our place for a meal. When you come back later, bring some rice porridge.”

Song Ning nodded in agreement and started to lead Lan-ger away, but the boy cried and refused to go. It took Song Ning a while to calm him down before they finally left together.

By the time the doctor arrived, neither of them was there. Song Ning had taken Lan-ger to eat a little and then hurried back. Even before entering the courtyard, he could smell the scent of Chinese herbal medicine.

Lange ran back into the house. “Grandpa!”

Song Ning was deeply concerned. “Mother, is Lan’er’s grandfather all right?”

Chen Cuihua shook her head. “He only has a few days left.”

Song Ning’s heart sank. Lan-ger had only this one relative left. She bit her lip and said softly, “Mother, I’d like to take Lan-ger in and look after him myself.”

Chen Cuihua seemed to have known this all along. “I know, dear. The poor child—Zhang Banxian made his final arrangements, and that was his wish as well.”

Chen Cuihua shook her head. The doctor had said there was no need for more medicine, but Chen Cuihua, afraid Lan-ger would be heartbroken if he found out, had him continue taking some medicine to keep him going.

Meanwhile, Zhang Banxia was on his deathbed. Since Lan-ger was just a little boy and couldn’t manage on his own, Wei Hu stayed behind. Chen Cuihua had already prepared the dough this morning. Although it was already late, she still had that large basin of dough to tend to. After giving Wei Hu a few instructions, she hurried off to town in her oxcart.

Song Ning was also there keeping Lan-ger company. Though Lan-ger was young, he understood what was happening. He cried nonstop, and his tears moved Song Ning to tears as well.

The village chief heard about the situation and came over. Seeing the mess at Zhang Banxia’s house, he shook his head. He called Wei Hu over to discuss arrangements for Zhang Banxia’s funeral. Since Zhang Banxia was originally from another village, they’d just have to call on a few young men to lend a hand when the time came.

The village chief went inside and exchanged a few words of condolence. Zhang Banxia, still trembling, began making his final arrangements. He was worried about Lan-ger and said that after he was gone, Lan-ger should go live with Chen Cuihua’s family.

“Lan-ger is all grown up now and can work. He won’t be a burden on anyone.”

The village chief patted Zhang Banxia on the hand. “What are you saying, old man? Wei Hu and his wife are decent people—they wouldn’t mistreat Lan-ger.” 

“I know, I know.”

Zhang Banxia was already on his last legs. He was waiting for the Old Tongsheng to pass away so he could play the erhu for him. By having Lan-ger learn to play, even if things got too tough later on, at least Lan-ger would have a trade to make a living. It might not be a dignified profession, but at least he wouldn’t go hungry.