Qingshan Village, in the middle of the settlement.
Each household was spaced far apart—three on the east side, five on the west. There was no neat arrangement; everyone had built their homes wherever they pleased. Every family had a small courtyard. After a few days of repairs, things no longer looked as broken down as when they had first returned, and the place now had a bit of life to it.
The Liu family’s home was near the entrance of the village, while the Wei family’s was at the very end.
At midday, the Lius were only just starting breakfast.
The six members of the family sat in the main room, gathered around the table. On it, there were only two plates of wild vegetables and a small clay bowl of watery porridge.
“I wonder if Dabao has eaten yet—if he got to taste any fish,” old Madam Zhao slurped noisily along the rim of her coarse porcelain bowl, sipping the porridge that barely had a few grains of rice. “That Madam Li, imagine that—trading away a whole bag of grain and in return getting a treasure. Shame the girl’s not right in the head, making us plant ghost-needle grass.” She curled her lip, shook her head, and added, “As if we don’t already know that grass can ward off mutated beasts. Why wouldn’t we plant it then?”
Old man Liu’s dark face was etched with years of hardship. His drooping lids lifted slightly as he cast her a sidelong glance. Without a word, he put down his bowl, bent his back, and went outside to pick up his hoe and head for the fields.
Watching her husband’s once-imposing figure now diminished, old Madam Zhao didn’t dare say more. She knew he found her nagging again.
The eldest son and his wife both lowered their heads in silence, earning a glare from old Madam Zhao.
The second son only nodded vaguely to appease her, but the second daughter-in-law, waiting until her father-in-law had gone off with the hoe, finally dared to speak up: “It’s just that she’s still young, doesn’t understand fieldwork, that’s all.”
Old Madam Zhao’s eyes lit up—finally someone who understood her. No wonder she favored the second branch of the family. See? She knew how to talk!
“Exactly! That ghost-needle grass grows fast and wild, saps all the nutrients, and is nearly impossible to clear out. In a few years the soil will be exhausted, and then what crops will we be able to grow?” Her wrinkled triangular eyes drooped smugly—she felt she saw things clearly.
The second daughter-in-law’s sallow face forced a smile. “Mother is right! That Madam Li just lets the girl do as she pleases. Just watch—the headman won’t allow them to plant that nonsense ghost-needle grass.”
Finding an ally, old Madam Zhao grew more spirited. She slapped the table. “In town, they don’t rely on farming, so of course they let that stuff run rampant. But here? This village only has a few patches of good land. Which family would allow her to make a mess of it?” She gave a cold snort. “Not even the Mengs, Yangs, or Zhous would dare agree.”
The eldest couple jumped at the sound of her table slap. Husband and wife exchanged glances and quickly set down their chopsticks. “Mother, we’re going to the fields.”
Old Madam Zhao paused, her fun spoiled. She waved them off with annoyance.
“How did I end up with such a dull son and such a mute daughter-in-law? A whole family of wooden gourds, not one of you pleasing to the eye.”
The second son frowned at that but didn’t dare openly contradict her. He only muttered with some displeasure, “Mother, most of the household work is done by elder brother and sister-in-law.” He then shot his wife a sideways look. “You too—hold your tongue. Once you’re finished eating, get to the fields quickly. The work won’t wait.” With that, he left, hurrying after his brother and sister-in-law, worried they had overheard their mother’s words.
Rebuked by her own husband, the second daughter-in-law, Wang, looked awkward. “Mother, I’ll go to the fields too.” Not daring to meet her mother-in-law’s gaze, she got up and slipped away.
Old Madam Zhao felt sulky. Her triangular eyes swiveled as she muttered to herself, scheming, “My precious grandson’s gone to the Wei household to help. Let’s see what he brings back. If it’s just more of that ghost-needle grass seed, hmph…”
At that, she felt a bit embarrassed. Everyone knew her little grandson had gone mainly to freeload a meal. But she had sent the elder grandson and granddaughter too—they could at least put in some real work.
At the same time, over at the Qian and Chen households, the situation was both the same and different.
They had indeed sent their children to help, but they also had selfish motives. They hoped their kids might get a taste of meat—even just a bite. They had no skill at fishing or hunting, nor the silver to buy meat, so the only way was to shamelessly send the children over.
Before they went, the parents gave them strict instructions: they had to work hard, no eating for free.
It might have been a little shameless, but for the sake of letting their kids taste meat, they didn’t care what others might say.
Meanwhile, the Mengs, Yangs, and Zhous hadn’t gone that day—just as Yu Qiu had guessed. They were worried the Wei family’s food wouldn’t last.
The three families from five households gathered together to discuss. Each would contribute a little grain—whether millet or rice—and together they scraped up one dou to send to the Wei household, enough to tide them over a bit. They truly couldn’t spare any more.
Clearing land and migrating had drained them all; none had much grain left.
“Tomorrow, when you go help, bring the grain with you. Don’t say it’s for them—say it’s your own rations,” said old man Meng. His back was bent as he sat under the tall willow at his gate, but his eyes were still sharp.
The five households lived close together, so during the midday break they gathered at the Meng house, cooling off in the shade of the sturdy willow.
Because their families had lost less and still had more able-bodied workers, they could afford to send people to the Wei household to help.
These households had a close relationship with the Weis. Back when Wei Dashan was alive, he had often helped them.
The Wei family came from hunters, though most of their able men had died deep in the mountains.
While Wei Dashan had never hunted frequently, once or twice every couple of months he could bring down a mutated pheasant or wild hare. Sold in town, that gave them a little more silver than the farmers scratching at the soil.
Madam Li knew embroidery. Every so often, she could bring her work to the embroidery workshop in town and trade for some silver to run the household.
Because of this, their own fields were left uncultivated, and the five households had shared the work of planting them, with no rent charged.
Whenever they foraged wild fruits or medicinal herbs in the mountains, they’d bring some to the Wei household as well.
It was all in hopes that when Wei Dashan went deep into the mountains, he would keep an extra eye on their women and children left behind.
Now that the Wei household had no pillar left, they were duty-bound to help more.
The Wei family’s eldest son was particularly pitiful. He had just come of age when he was conscripted. After Wei Dashan died, Madam Li’s health had clearly declined. All the silver in the house had been spent on her treatments, leaving them unable to pay the fee to exempt him from service.
It wasn’t that the village didn’t want to help—it was just that no one had spare silver.
Everyone was already struggling to feed their own families. How could they scrape together money to free the Wei son, especially with the Zhou family in the same plight?
They had the will but not the means.
Among the dozen-odd households in the village, all had paid to exempt their sons—only the eldest sons of the Wei and Zhou families had been taken.
“Understood, Grandfather. But is it true ghost-needle grass can’t be planted?” asked Meng Ping. At fifteen, he had spent most of his years clearing land and didn’t know much about farming matters.
Old man Meng sighed. “Your Auntie Li made a good trade—one bag of grain for a fine daughter-in-law. That girl has good intentions, but ghost-needle grass cannot be grown in the village. It robs the soil of nutrients. In time, our fields would be barren, and no crops would grow.” He stood, clasping his hands behind his back as he walked toward the courtyard. “Time to get back to the fields.”
Meng Ping nodded. “Then tomorrow I’ll tell sister-in-law.”