She walked over in two or three quick steps, pushed the door open, crouched down, and took Liu Yu’er’s icy little hands into her palms.
“My child, why did you come down without your shoes on? The floor is so cold!”
Liu Yu’er didn’t speak; she only cried, her tears falling plop-plop onto Zhang Guilan’s hand.
Zhang Guilan pulled her into her arms, feeling this thin, frail body shivering violently. She hit her head on the stone mill when she was six, bleeding so much.
Six years old.
Her own Qin Xiaoman was seven this year, still acting spoiled in her arms all day long and crying for half a day just from a single fall.
Yet the child before her had been harmed like this by others at the age of six, only to be sold by her own birth father and almost pushed into a brothel.
Zhang Guilan’s tears fell again. She pulled Liu Yu’er tightly into her embrace, her voice choking so much she could barely form sentences: “Don’t be afraid anymore, child, don’t be afraid. Once you’re in our home, no one will dare bully you again. Mother will make the decisions for you, alright?”
Held in her embrace, Liu Yu’er cried breathlessly.
She didn’t quite understand what the adults were arguing about, but she understood the last sentence—
“If I’m going to support her for a lifetime, I’ll support her for a lifetime.”
She understood those words.
The tall man who frightened her had said he would support her for a lifetime.
Qin Zhan stood a few steps away, watching his mother hold Liu Yu’er in her arms, crying together into a mess.
He walked out, picked up Liu Yu’er’s shoes from beside the kang, ran back, crouched down, and silently took her icy feet to slip the shoes on.
His movements were clumsy, yet his force was as gentle as if he were handling some fragile piece of porcelain.
Watching this scene, Zhang Guilan laughed through her tears, suddenly letting out a “pfft” sound as she wiped away her tears while laughing.
“You,” she pointed at Qin Zhan, “you’ve been like this since you were a child—keeping everything to yourself and shouldering everything on your own. When you bought her, had you already planned this out?”
Qin Zhan didn’t answer. He simply finished putting on Liu Yu’er’s other shoe, stood up, and took a step back.
“Mother,” he said, “I want to go back for a return visit on the second day of the Lunar New Year, to go see her younger brother.”
Zhang Guilan wiped her eyes: “Go! Bring plenty of things! That boy is good-hearted; he’s just a child himself, yet he knew to protect his older sister.”
She paused, then added: “With that child left behind in that household alone… he’s bound to suffer.”
Qin Zhan nodded.
Liu Yu’er stood beside Zhang Guilan, her hand still held, looking up with tear-blurred eyes to look at Zhang Guilan, then at Qin Zhan.
She didn’t quite understand what a “return visit” meant, nor did she understand what the adults were discussing, but she caught one word—younger brother.
Her eyes lit up slightly, and she timidly spoke up: “Go… go see Little Brother?”
Qin Zhan looked at her tear-filled, sparkling eyes and nodded.
“On the second day of the new year, I’ll take you back to see him.”
Liu Yu’er’s tears fell again, but this time, she smiled.
It was a very small smile, with just the corners of her lips turning up slightly, like the earliest blade of grass poking through in spring—timid, yet carrying an irrepressible vitality.
Seeing this smile, the last bit of reluctance and awkwardness in Zhang Guilan’s heart melted away entirely.
She reached out to wipe the tears from Liu Yu’er’s face, saying softly, “Good child, from now on you’ll live with Mother. Mother will teach you how to cook, embroider, and run a household. Once your illness is cured, we’ll grandly make up for the wedding banquet, and let everyone in the village see how pretty my daughter-in-law is.”
Liu Yu’er didn’t understand what “making up for a wedding banquet” meant, but she caught the words “how pretty,” and lowered her head shyly, her cheeks flushed red like a ripe apple.
Qin Wen sneaked to the doorway at some point, peeking his head inside to watch, muttering softly, “Mother isn’t scolding anymore?”
Turning her head, Zhang Guilan glared at him: “What are you looking at? Go chop your wood! Once you’re done chopping, go to town and buy two catties of brown sugar for your sister-in-law to drink!”
Qin Wen shrank his neck and bolted away in a flash.
In the courtyard, Qin Xiaoman was straddling a broom, shouting “Giddy-up!” and running in circles around the yard. As he ran past the doorway, he shouted into the room: “Sister-in-law! Tomorrow I’ll take you to see where I hide my treasures!”
Hearing that “Sister-in-law,” Liu Yu’er froze for a moment, then gently nodded.
Zhang Guilan cursed angrily: “You little monkey, do you want to die?! Break that broom and I’ll skin you alive!”
Standing to the side and watching this scene, the corners of Qin Zhan’s mouth finally curved up slightly.
A crack split open in the clouds at the edge of the sky, leaking a streak of golden sunlight that shone right onto Liu Yu’er.
She stood in the light, smiling timidly while still clutching that rattle-drum. Her beauty was astonishing…
On the twenty-ninth day of the twelfth lunar month, the fragrance of fried meatballs wafted through the Qin family courtyard.
Zhang Guilan stood before the stove, her apron stained with flour, pinching meat filling in her hand as round meatballs squeezed out from the web of her thumb and dropped into the boiling wok. With a sizzling sound, golden bubbles surged up, filling the entire courtyard with their rich aroma.
Liu Yu’er sat on a small stool beside the stove, tasked with feeding firewood into the hearth. She wasn’t very good at controlling the fire: a moment ago she added too much and the fire raged too high, making the wok smoke; a moment later she added too little and the fire died down, causing the oil temperature to drop so the meatballs took forever to fry.
Zhang Guilan didn’t get annoyed, teaching her over and over again: “Watch the flame—the yellowish kind is just right, don’t let it flare up too high. Yes, just like that, keep it steady.”
Liu Yu’er stared intently at the fire inside the stove, holding a piece of firewood in her hand and carefully feeding it in, looking as if she were doing delicate embroidery.
Qin Xiaoman squatted beside her, a handful of peanuts in his hand, eating and watching at the same time. From time to time, he stealthily tossed a peanut shell into the stove, only to have his forehead whacked with a pair of chopsticks by Zhang Guilan.
“If you mess around again, I won’t buy you any firecrackers for the New Year!”
Covering his head, Qin Xiaoman scampered off.
Qin Zhan walked in from outside, carrying a bundle of chopped firewood on his shoulder, and neatly stacked it against the base of the wall. As he entered the house, his gaze naturally fell upon Liu Yu’er by the stove.
She was wearing a semi-new lotus-pink padded jacket—which Zhang Guilan had rushed to make yesterday, altered from an old piece of clothing from Qin Xiulan’s dowry. It was a perfect fit.
Her hair had also been freshly redone. Zhang Guilan had braided it for her, tied it with a red string, and let it hang over her chest, which made her little face look fair, clean, and well-behaved.
She was engrossed in adding firewood to the stove, completely unaware of the tiny smudge of ash on the tip of her nose.
Qin Zhan looked at her for two seconds, withdrew his gaze, and went out to the courtyard to chop wood.
“Eldest,” Zhang Guilan shouted without turning her head, “go to town and pick up Qin Wen! The academy is on break today, so don’t let him dawdle on the road. With the New Year right around the corner, there are too many people and carriages; it’s not safe.”
Qin Zhan gave an acknowledgment, put down his axe, and went inside to change into a clean set of clothes.
He walked over to the stove and looked down at Liu Yu’er.
“I’m going to pick up Qin Wen. I’ll be back in a bit.”
Liu Yu’er raised her head, looked at him timidly, and nodded.
Qin Zhan turned to leave, but suddenly stopped. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled something out and placed it on Liu Yu’er’s lap.
A piece of candy. It was wrapped in red paper, with the character “Fu” (blessing) printed on it in gold.
“Don’t let Qin Xiaoman see it,” he said in a low voice. “If he sees it, he’ll make a fuss all day.”
With that, he strode out the door.
Liu Yu’er looked down at the candy on her lap, picked it up gingerly, and turned it over and over to inspect it. The red paper was shiny, and the “Fu” character was golden and dazzling—it was breathtakingly pretty.
She pressed the candy against her chest, the corners of her mouth curving up into a small, sweet smile.
Seeing this, Zhang Guilan smiled and shook her head, thinking to herself: This reticent fellow certainly knows how to care for someone.