He lay at the far end of the kang, his breathing even, but Mai Sui noticed his fingers tapping against the edge of the quilt, off and on, without any steady rhythm—sometimes fast, sometimes slow.
When this man faked sleep, his fingers always liked to move.
Mai Sui didn’t call him out. She spread out her bedding and lay down.
The moment she lay down, her foot touched something warm. She looked down—it was an IV bottle, glass, filled with hot water, plugged with a rubber stopper, and wrapped in an old towel.
When did he slip that in?
She glanced at his back, nudged the hot water bottle closer to her feet, and said to the back of his head, ”The hot water bottle’s nice and warm.”
The fingers tapping the quilt went still.
After a while, two muffled words came from that side: ”Go to sleep.”
Mai Sui closed her eyes. The warmth from under her feet traveled up along her veins, driving out the chill in her body, and her mind began turning over the day’s events…
She could take her time digging into Mute Granny’s affairs—the old woman had plenty of secrets, and there was no rush.
The most pressing matter right now was getting a clear picture of those two sisters-in-law’s accounts.
Wang Cuijuan had a new scheme behind every blink of her eyes, while Li Ming’e lurked quietly in the shadows. One worked in the open, the other in the dark—neither of them was any pushover.
Just as she was thinking this, a burst of faint rustling reached her ears.
“Squeak… guess what I saw in the medicine shop’s back yard today?”
“What did you see? Don’t keep me in suspense!”
“That fat one from the Old Gu family went to fetch medicine again! A dose costs eight fen, but she reported one mao five to the old lady! And she told the shop assistant, same as always, not to write the price on the prescription!”
“That’s nothing—last month the skinny one was even worse! Squeak squeak… she fetched five doses but reported three, and pocketed the money for the other two outright. I saw it with my own eyes—she squatted behind the medicine shop’s back door counting the money, and after counting it, she even stuffed two bills under her insole!”
“Truly rotten! The old lady has no idea how many years she’s been swallowing silent losses. Her eldest son sends money home every month, saying it’s for the old couple to buy medicine and build up their health, but the medicine costs she reports are more than double what’s actually spent.”
“Squeak squeak squeak… the money those two Two-legged Beasts skim in a year—how much corn could that buy! Just thinking about it breaks my heart. That’s how many kernels of corn!”
“What are you heartbroken for? Didn’t you steal half a flatbread from the kitchen just yesterday?”
“How is that the same? I steal flatbread, but I don’t cheat the old lady!”
“Squeak, so you’ve got principles?”
“You bet! Even a mouse has to have a bottom line!”
“Back to business, back to business… that fat one goes to the post office every month to collect the money. She takes her cut first before handing the rest to the old lady. The old lady thinks her eldest sends only about ten yuan a month, and she even brags to everyone about how filial her daughter-in-law is. Tsk tsk tsk…”
“The son of the Yu family in the neighboring village has been a soldier for five years and sends twenty yuan home every month! I remember the Old Gu family’s eldest is even older—how could he send less than that? The old lady’s never been suspicious?”
“The old lady can’t read! Whatever number the fat one says is on the money order, that’s what it is. The skinny one is even craftier—she avoids touching the money orders whenever she can, letting the fat one shoulder all the risk while she just takes her share behind the scenes!”
“Squeak… those two Two-legged Beasts are cunning—cunninger than us mice!”
“Don’t insult us mice!”
Mai Sui narrowed her eyes in the darkness.
She had originally assumed those two sisters-in-law were just light-fingered, stealing the odd chicken and pinching a few vegetables. Only tonight did she finally figure it out—pilfering chickens and greens was small change. The real money was in the medicine costs and the remittances.
Inflated medicine prices, with no receipts to check against.
Liu Guifang couldn’t read, so whatever they told her was what she believed—she wouldn’t even ask twice about the price.
Liu Guifang only knew that her son sent money home every month, but not how much. Her father-in-law Gu Dashan just kept his head down and worked, never paying attention to such things. So the amounts on the withdrawal slips were known only to Wang Cuijuan and Li Ming’e.
Since the household books couldn’t be checked, then she wouldn’t check the books.
Tomorrow she would go straight to the post office and pull the remittance records, then to the medicine shop to match the prescriptions with the doctor—one entry at a time, until everything was laid out crystal clear.
But she couldn’t tell Gu Qingye. Over these past two days she had come to understand him.
Gu Qingye seemed quiet and unassuming, but he was filial and stubbornly set in his ways. If he learned that his hard-earned money had all been swallowed up by his two sisters-in-law, he would surely explode on the spot. And once things blew up, if Wang Cuijuan and Li Ming’e tore off all pretense and ran, not only would the money be unrecoverable, but the old couple would never be able to hold their heads up in Liulin Village again.
No—first, she needed ironclad proof.
She also needed to survey the market prices—wood ear mushrooms, fungi, Chinese yam, chili powder, anything that could be gathered on the mountain or made by hand. She’d note down every price, then go to the medicine shop and match this year’s prescriptions against what was actually paid.
Outside the window, the wind howled, and from the mouse hole in the corner came faint rustling sounds.
“Squeak squeak… has the new one fallen asleep yet?”
“Squeak! Asleep, asleep. Breathing’s all even.”
“Good. Tomorrow Fatty’s going to the market again. Heard she’s getting a jar of malted milk from the supply cooperative to take to her brother’s wife’s family—squeak squeak… real fancy stuff, over five yuan a jar.”
“Over five yuan! That’s half a lifetime of corn for me! She’s generous enough with her own family, but when it came to buying medicine for the old lady, out of eight cents she’d skim seven!”
“Shh… keep it down, don’t wake the new one.”
Mai Sui kept her eyes closed, her breathing steady in the rhythm of sleep, but the corner of her mouth curved up slightly.
Malted milk. Over five yuan. Wang Cuijuan’s brother’s wife’s family.
She made a note of it.
But she knew in her heart that whatever the mice could tell her was already in the past. Tomorrow in town, she would flip through that stack of remittance slips with her own hands. She wanted to know where every cent Gu Qingye had sent home over these eight years had ended up.
And once the numbers on the slips matched the prescriptions at the medicine shop, that would be more than just ironclad proof.
She wanted to see whether, at that point, Wang Cuijuan could still wear that dacron smock and smile in her face.
The fifth day of the twelfth lunar month.
When Mai Sui came out of the east room, Gu Qingye was already waiting in the courtyard.
He had changed into a clean army-style jacket, buttoned up to the collar, black cloth shoes on his feet with the uppers scrubbed nearly white, a canvas army-green satchel in his hand. Judging by his stance, he’d been standing there a while.
Hearing the door, he glanced up at her, his gaze resting on her for less than a second before moving away. “Let’s go,” he said.
Mai Sui had a woven basket slung over her shoulder, filled with the winter mushrooms and Chinese yam she’d gathered yesterday, covered with a piece of coarse cloth. Xiaoya squatted on the doorstep, so sleepy her eyelids kept drooping. “Sister-in-law, when will you be back?”
“Back by noon. Keep an eye on things at home, and if anything comes up, tell your sister-in-law later.” Mai Sui bent down and whispered something in her ear. Xiaoya’s eyes lit up instantly and she nodded hard, all her sleepiness gone.
Wang Cuijuan poked half her body out of the kitchen, holding a bowl of corn grits porridge, her tone extra warm: “Heading to the market, sister-in-law? Perfect timing, I’m going too! Tiedan’s aunt is pregnant and craving everything, so she asked me to pick up some things for her. Let’s go together!” With that, she set the porridge bowl on the stove, went inside to change into a clean smock, and came out carrying an empty cloth bag. Her smile was even warmer than usual, and her eyes, as expected, darted to Mai Sui’s bulging woven basket before quickly looking away.
Mai Sui gave her a smile, said nothing, and turned to follow Gu Qingye out the courtyard gate.
It was seven li from Liulin Village to Liuzi Town. Villagers going to the market all took Old Wang’s donkey cart—a flatbed donkey cart that could seat seven or eight people, two mao per person, one mao extra for cargo. He waited under the old locust tree at the village entrance every day, and left once enough people gathered.
By the time Mai Sui and the others arrived, several people were already waiting under the tree.
Old Yu’s daughter-in-law held a basket of eggs, Old Zhao carried a half sack of soybeans, Aunt Zhang’s eldest daughter-in-law was there with her sister-in-law Zhang Liqin, and there was a young wife Mai Sui had never seen before, holding a child bundled up like a little rice dumpling. After waiting a bit longer, everyone was there. Old Wang’s gray donkey swished its tail, snorting white breath, and the cart bed was lined with a layer of flattened dry hay.
“Qingye? Taking your new wife to the market?” Old Wang said around his pipe, eyes crinkling with a smile. “Hop on. Two mao a head, one mao extra for cargo—but I won’t charge for the mountain goods in your wife’s basket. Consider it my welcome gift for my nephew’s wife.”
Gu Qingye fished a few small bills out of his pocket and handed them over, set the basket on the cart bed, climbed up first, then reached out and pushed the hay aside, clearing a clean spot.
He didn’t offer Mai Sui a hand, didn’t even look at her, but after clearing that spot, his hand paused on the cart bed for a beat.
Mai Sui braced herself on the cart shaft and climbed up, sitting down beside him.
Only then did he withdraw his hand.
Wang Cuijuan glanced at everyone, then hurriedly clambered onto the cart and plopped down right next to Mai Sui, the empty cloth bag on her lap. Once aboard, her mouth started going nonstop: “Sister-in-law, what’s in that basket of yours? All bulgy like that. Let me have a look.”
“Just junk I picked up on the mountain. Taking it to the market to try my luck.” Mai Sui nudged the basket toward her feet and replied unhurriedly, her hand resting on the rim of the basket, not moving.
Wang Cuijuan’s craning neck froze for a moment, and she awkwardly drew back.
One listen and you knew exactly what it was—the winter mushrooms and wild yams from yesterday.
She pursed her lips, asked nothing more, and turned to chat with Old Yu’s daughter-in-law instead, asking how many eggs she’d saved up and how much they went for per jin, acting as warm as if they were close relatives.
Mai Sui noticed that Zhang Liqin, sitting across from them, curled her lips downward as Wang Cuijuan chattered away, then lowered her head to fiddle with her bundle, her expression a mix of disgust and disdain.
Seven li of mountain road—the donkey cart wasn’t much faster than walking, but it saved your shoes.
The corn stubble in the fields on both sides of the road was mostly buried under snow. After finishing her chat about eggs, Wang Cuijuan suddenly sighed and mentioned to Old Yu’s daughter-in-law that Tiedan’s aunt—her brother’s wife—was pregnant and craving good food, and that this trip to the market was specifically to bring her things. As she spoke, she instinctively patted the empty cloth bag in her hand, then quickly changed the subject and started chatting about the new floral fabric that had just arrived at the supply and marketing cooperative.
Mai Sui took in every one of these little gestures. An empty cloth bag, a pregnant sister-in-law from her natal family—it all matched up with what those two mice had said last night about the malted milk powder.
The donkey cart jolted along, and Mai Sui’s shoulder bumped against Gu Qingye’s arm. She didn’t move away, and neither did he.
That arm stayed right where it was, stiff as a wooden post planted there. Mai Sui tilted her head and glanced at him. He stared straight ahead as if nothing had happened, but his ears had quietly turned red.
Mai Sui looked away but didn’t move either, her shoulder resting against his.
They ran head-on into Old Man Liu driving his donkey cart. He recognized Gu Qingye and called out, “Qingye! Taking your wife to the market?”
“Mm.”
“Good for you, kid—married yourself a pretty wife!” Old Man Liu laughed heartily, cracking his whip in the air, and his cart creaked past them.
Wang Cuijuan gave a couple of dry laughs beside them. The warmth on her face stiffened for half a second before snapping right back into place.
The donkey cart swayed its way to the town entrance, where Old Wang parked under a poplar tree at the crossroads. The market was already crowded.
An old man selling candied hawthorns shouldered his straw rack and hollered with all his might. An old woman selling frozen pears crouched by the roadside, a tattered burlap sack spread before her with several piles of dark, shriveled frozen pears on it. Nearby drifted the aroma of fried dough cakes.
Gu Qingye lifted the woven basket off the cart bed and pulled the letter from his pocket. “I’m going to the post office to mail this. You—”
“I’m off to the supply and marketing cooperative!” Wang Cuijuan cut in, hopping off the donkey cart with her empty cloth bag, her steps as light as a young girl’s. “Take your time browsing, sister-in-law. Let’s meet back under the old poplar later!” With that, she made a beeline for the cooperative without looking back.
Mai Sui watched her retreating figure and saw right through it—the woman was in a hurry to buy the malted milk powder and didn’t want her or Gu Qingye to see.
She took the woven basket from Gu Qingye’s hands and slung it over her shoulder. “You go mail your letter first. I’ll go wander around the vegetable market.”
Gu Qingye nodded and turned toward the post office. After three steps, he suddenly stopped and turned back.
Mai Sui hadn’t left yet. She was crouching on the ground, rearranging the winter mushrooms in the basket. Sensing his gaze, she looked up. “What is it?”
Gu Qingye walked over and pulled something from his pocket, handing it to her—a few small bills, folded neatly.
“Take it.”
Mai Sui glanced at the bills, then at him. “Why are you giving me money?”
“You’re selling mountain goods. You’ll need change.”
Mai Sui paused. She wanted to say it wasn’t necessary, but the words died on her lips—because she really didn’t have any money.
“I’ll count it as a loan,” she said, taking the bills. “I’ll pay you back after I sell the goods.”
“No need to repay it,” he said, then added, “Whatever you make is yours.”
Then he turned and walked off, his stride as quick as ever.
Mai Sui held the small bills, looked down, and gave a soft laugh. She tucked them into the inner pocket of her cotton jacket and headed for the vegetable market.
When Mai Sui headed to the market, Gu Qingye pushed open the post office’s green-painted wooden door and handed his letter over the counter. After mailing it, he was just about to walk toward the old poplar tree when someone called out to him from behind.
“Qingye?”
Gu Qingye turned around.
Cheng Wanli, wearing an oil-stained apron and carrying half a rack of ribs, strode over from the butcher shop and thumped him on the shoulder with a fist. “It really is you! Old Wang said yesterday that you were back, and I didn’t believe him. So, eight years in the army—having trouble readjusting?”
“It’s fine.”
“Still as tight-lipped as ever.” Cheng Wanli laughed heartily, then glanced behind him. “Old Wang said you brought your new wife to the market? Where is she?”
“At the vegetable market.”
“Well, well, you sly dog—quietly pulling off something big.” Cheng Wanli shoved the ribs into his hands. “Take these back—consider it my welcome gift for your wife. Bring her by the butcher shop sometime, and I’ll cut you both the best pork belly.”
Gu Qingye didn’t refuse. He took the ribs and said his thanks.
Cheng Wanli waved him off and gave him another punch on the shoulder. The two chatted a bit before parting ways.
Gu Qingye stood at the post office entrance holding the ribs, glancing toward the vegetable market. Then he went to set the ribs down on his cart under the old poplar tree, bought two fried cakes, wrapped them in paper, and tucked them inside his coat to keep warm.
Once he’d done all that, he waited under the old poplar tree, standing ramrod straight like a sentry on duty.
The vegetable market was in the alley just east of the old poplar tree, lined on both sides with vendor stalls piled with cabbage, potatoes, and frozen radishes, while shoppers with baskets on their arms squeezed through the middle.
Mai Sui found an empty spot against the wall and set her woven basket on the ground, pulling back the coarse cloth to reveal neatly arranged winter mushrooms and mountain yams.
Beside her was an old woman selling dried mushrooms, her broad face weathered like tree bark by the wind. She turned and shot Mai Sui a sideways look, her tone none too friendly. “New here? This spot’s taken. Move on down that way.”