At noon, smoke from cooking rose from every household in the village. Workers returning from the fields bustled home.
Suddenly, a delicious aroma wafted through the air. “It smells like meat! Who’s cooking meat?” someone in the crowd said, sniffing the air to find out which house had meat.
The Liú family, walking in the same line, also caught the scent and looked around.
“Who’s eating meat? Smells so good!” said Mr. Liú.
“Yeah, so fragrant! Harvest is coming soon; our family will surely get a chance to eat meat too!” added the eldest aunt.
Everyone hurried toward the Liú household. If they didn’t, the mouthwatering aroma might make them drool before reaching home.
The closer they got, the stronger the smell. Grandpa Liú and the others exchanged curious glances. Mr. Liú muttered:
“This smell… is it coming from our house? Did Mom buy meat? Doesn’t seem like her style.”
“Talk less. We’ll know when we get home,” replied someone, as Grandpa Liú hurried into the courtyard, followed closely by the rest of the family.
Inside the yard, oh! All the children were pressed against the kitchen door, drooling at the smell.
Seeing Grandpa and the parents return, a few of the little ones shouted, “Grandma! Grandma! Grandpa and everyone’s back. Are we eating?”
“Shut up! You bunch of starving ghosts. All you know is eating! Don’t help with chores, don’t wash hands, don’t carry water—what are you standing there for? Waiting for me to serve you?”
Grandma Liú’s words made Liú Jiànjūn fume.
Nowadays, meat was rare. Yet her mischievous grandson was shouting as if the whole village didn’t know they had meat. If she weren’t busy in the kitchen, she’d give him a taste of her rolling pin.
At lunchtime, the family dashed to the table. In no time, they were seated.
The table was laden with stir-fried lettuce with rabbit, pickled pepper rabbit offal, boiled wild vegetables, and a bowl of mixed grains. The Liú family stared, mouths watering.
Grandma Liú set the dishes down, then carefully seated Shūxīn beside her. She picked a rabbit leg from the dish, added some vegetables and meat into a bowl, and placed it in front of Shūxīn to enjoy slowly.
The adults and even the grandsons were stunned. When had Grandma ever been this thoughtful? Even the other grandchildren never got such treatment, let alone little Shūxīn.
Though Grandma didn’t treat her granddaughter poorly like some families, she usually favored boys. The only unsurprised one was Shūlán.
“Today we can eat meat thanks to little Xīn. She doesn’t mind eating the rabbit leg, right? If she does, she can keep it to herself.
None of you even brought meat back for me. My eyes are green with envy! Now I get to enjoy the blessings of a granddaughter.”
“Shūxīn caught two rabbits today, and they’re both fat. Remember to appreciate her, or there’ll be consequences! Enough talk, let’s eat!”
Everyone’s eyes were on the meat. They ignored anything else Grandma said and nodded along in agreement.
Once they started eating, everyone dug in. Grandma Liú joined in, showing surprising vigor.
Shūxīn gratefully enjoyed her rabbit leg. Grandma’s cooking was excellent; the meat was tender, flavorful, and oily.
After the meal, the family leaned back, satisfied, unable to move. The plates were licked clean—no need to wash.
Shūxīn leaned back on her chair, patting her full belly, savoring the rabbit meat she’d just eaten. In her mind, she thought: she hadn’t eaten this full or this comfortably in a long time.
During the apocalypse, even if food was available, there was no such carefree feasting. Even eating seven-tenths full was a feat. Food had to be stored—who knew when zombies might besiege the area, cutting off supplies?
Now, at the end of summer and the start of autumn, the weather was still warm. The family rested under the persimmon tree in the yard for a brief nap.
Before heading back to the fields in the afternoon, Grandma Liú said the remaining half rabbit couldn’t be stored in the heat. It would be stewed that night with noodles. The stew wouldn’t be as aromatic as the midday braised rabbit; the whole village wouldn’t smell it.
Everyone perked up instantly, promising Grandma to work hard that afternoon and save some rations to “earn” the noodles.
Grandma Liú looked at them, frustrated—everyone, even the usually composed eldest aunt, was acting this way, all for meat. And her niece Shūxīn’s mother was the same…
Ignoring the adults hyped up on meat, Shūxīn lay down next to her cousin for an afternoon nap. The sun was too strong to go out; she’d wake up later.
Life was comfortable now: eat, sleep, wander the mountains for food. Shūxīn treasured this peaceful life.
By three or four in the afternoon, the sun was milder. Shūxīn set off with her cousin and two older brothers to chop firewood. According to her own brother, they might also catch a wild chicken. She rolled her eyes at him.
Still carrying her small morning basket, Shūxīn held her brother’s hand, excited to climb the mountain.
Her brother said that the afternoon spot not only had wild fruit trees but also wild chickens. Earlier, with her cousin, they had gone to the mountain’s foot, full of low shrubs.
Shūxīn couldn’t be happier—fruits and meat! She had already caught two rabbits; anything else she found could go into her space for later.
At the foot of the mountain, they saw ten or so men and women, around seventy to ninety years old, watching their direction—they had been waiting.
Sure enough, her eldest cousin approached a strong boy to talk, and she recognized the women from earlier. They then proceeded together toward the mid-mountain, playing and teasing along the way.
The higher they climbed, the steeper the path. Though Shūxīn had merged with the Nine-Colored Lotus seeds last night, giving her adult-level strength, she was still a three-year-old in appearance. To others, she was just a tiny child struggling to keep up.
Her two older brothers, seeing the difficulty, took turns carrying her for stretches.
Once at their destination, she was set down. She noted that her brothers had good stamina—they only sweated a little carrying her.
With two brothers around and her cousin’s supervision, she could move freely but still stayed within sight, mindful of her family.
She explored the surroundings while others chopped wood, looking for items to store in her space. The area had rich vegetation, with many fruit trees.
Shūxīn found grapevines, kiwis, walnuts, pear trees… Most weren’t edible yet, so she took saplings instead.
Time flew by. The sun was already setting. Her brothers and cousins had stacked a large pile of firewood too heavy to carry. Her brother went down the mountain to fetch the adults.
On the way home, Shūxīn rode on her father’s back, her little legs swinging in the air, while he carried her small basket.
The moon hung high, the stars twinkled.
That night, at the same place, in the same position, the Liú family—unsurprisingly—ate their fill again.
Lying in the yard, the night breeze brought cool relief. Full and content, everyone washed up and went to bed.
Accompanied by frogs and the gentle snores of her parents, Shūxīn drifted into sleep. Today had truly been a happy day!