On the mountain.
Pang Fu and Qingqing Yin followed behind the kids, running up the mountain with steady steps, not out of breath, their laughter growing louder and louder.
The one behind, Fu Yuhe, had it rough—his little face flushed red, limbs weak, seeing stars, panting like an ox.
A dark, skinny little girl ran past him, showing disdain: “My little brother is five this year.”
Fu Yuhe ????
“He runs faster than you up the mountain.”
Fu Yuhe…
The little girl snorted with laughter and, like a blur, caught up with the group ahead. After whispering with her friends for a moment, the whole bunch turned to look at Fu Yuhe, laughing mockingly, their sharp, piercing laughter carrying far into the distance.
Fu Yuhe… felt deeply hurt.
The little boy’s eyes instantly reddened, and he pressed his lips tightly together, refusing to let himself cry.
Pang Fu looked blankly at the little kids, then at her own big brother.
She pattered over, took Fu Yuhe’s hand, raised her chubby little paw, and stuffed a grimy piece of candy into his mouth: “Yummy, no cry.”
Fu Yuhe wiped his eyes, a bit embarrassed: “Thank you, little sister.”
When the group of kids saw the candy, they could no longer laugh. One by one, they stared longingly at Fu Yuhe’s mouth, swallowing their saliva.
For the children in the mountain area, candy was a luxury, something they could only taste during holidays. For those from poorer families, they might not see any all year round.
Pang Fu stuffed another piece of candy into her own little mouth. Her mouth couldn’t hold it, and it bulged out along with drool. To keep it from falling, her whole little body strained with effort.
The kids grew even more envious.
One little kid gathered the courage to ask: “Can you give us candy too?”
Pang Fu shook her head: “Bad, scold brother.”
The little girl glanced at Fu Yuhe and pouted: “We didn’t scold him, we just said he runs slow. He really does run slow, we weren’t lying.”
“Exactly, even our little brothers and sisters who are just a few years old run faster than him.”
“But we don’t look down on him.”
“Right, if you give us candy, we’ll play with him too.”
Pang Fu blinked, about to speak, when the candy slipped out of her mouth and plopped onto the ground.
The quick-eyed little girl hurriedly picked it up and handed it to Pang Fu: “Here.”
Pang Fu smacked her little lips: “Eat, play with brother.”
The little girl instantly brightened, not minding at all that it was candy Pang Fu had eaten and dropped on the ground. The six of them shared the small piece happily.
“Thank you, what’s your name? I’m Ah Hua, eight years old. I’ll take you to play from now on.”
“I’m Iron Bull.”
“I’m Shunwang.”
“I’m Grass Bud.”
“I’m Second Tiger.”
“I’m Qiangzi.”
The six kids introduced themselves one by one.
Pang Fu didn’t understand self-introductions, only staring at them with wide, eager eyes and giggling foolishly.
Qingqing Yin, the mother, laughed even more foolishly than Pang Fu, her eyes filled only with her own chubby daughter, as if no one else existed.
Fu Yuhe quickly said: “I’m Fu Yuhe, ten years old. This is my little sister, Fufu, two and a half. This is my Xiaoshen, named Qingqing Yin.”
Ah Hua: “Then we’ll call you Xiao He from now on, call your little sister Fufu, and call Xiaoshen…” Ah Hua met Qingqing Yin’s and Pang Fu’s identical, adorably clueless expressions and felt that calling her Xiaoshen made her sound old: “We’ll just call her Qingqing.”
Pang Fu turned to look at Qingqing Yin, opened her little mouth, and called out crisply: “Qingqing.”
Qingqing Yin grinned, showing her teeth: “Baby.”
Fu Yuhe scratched his face. That didn’t seem quite right, but the little kid had already started calling them that—Fufu and Qingqing, one after another—and Pang Fu and Qingqing Yin responded so readily that he decided not to say anything.
With their revolutionary friendship officially established, the group chattered away as they herded the goats up the mountain. This time, everyone was considerate of Fu Yuhe’s pace, making sure he didn’t fall behind.
They reached a gentle slope covered in lush green grass. The goats grazed there while the little kids cut grass nearby.
Fu Yuhe asked, “Is this for the goats too? There’s plenty in the mountains. Why cut it?”
Ah Hua replied, “The cows eat this too. Or when it rains and the goats don’t go out, we give this to them.”
“Why don’t the goats go out when it rains?”
“Because they’re afraid of the rain.”
“Oh, do you have an extra sickle? I can help.”
“No, just play over there. You don’t know how to use this—you might cut your hand. If you can’t sit still, the leaves on those trees over there are also eaten by the cows and goats. You can help pick those.”
Fu Yuhe glanced at the broad, fuzzy leaves growing on the nearby wild trees and nodded. “Okay, what are these called?”
“Wild hemp. Pick the tender ones. The white sap is hard to wash off your hands, so be careful. You know, wild hemp is really useful. We can make its bark into thread, spin it into cloth, and make clothes. It’s especially cool to wear in summer.”
Fu Yuhe was surprised. “Clothes from this?” It felt stiff and rough. He couldn’t imagine what clothes made from it would look like. Could they really be worn?
Ah Hua opened up, partly to show off, and began explaining hemp clothing to Fu Yuhe.
Fu Yuhe listened with great interest. This wasn’t something he’d read about in books. He thought the village girls were amazing—they knew so much.
Under Fu Yuhe’s admiration, Ah Hua grew increasingly proud and spoke with more enthusiasm. The other little kids, sensing Ah Hua’s superiority, joined in, competing to show off what they knew.
Pang Fu couldn’t stay still. After watching the goats graze for a while and being sharply stopped by Baba for the third time when she tried to pick up goat droppings to play with, she watched the little kids cut grass for a bit but found it boring. She then ran off to play in a nearby grove. The flowers, grass, and even the stones there were her favorites, and she played with total immersion.
Qingqing Yin followed closely, watching whatever Pang Fu played with and offering emotional support and physical help.
Baba was like a fussy old mother, yelling in Pang Fu’s head about what she couldn’t do, exhausting himself until his data heated up.
The mother and daughter pair—one unable to hear, the other pretending not to—played with complete focus, running farther and farther away.
“Smelly,” Pang Fu led the way, running with Qingqing Yin into a coniferous forest filled with colorful mushrooms, fragrant and beautiful.
The chubby toddler toddled in on her short legs, squatting in front of a Boletus. Her chubby little hands roughly grabbed the cap, then the stem, tearing the perfect mushroom to pieces. She held it up like a treasure to show Qingqing Yin. “Qingqing, smelly.”
The chubby kid had been led astray by her little friends on the very first day, not even calling her mother anymore.
Qingqing Yin didn’t find anything wrong with it at all. She quickly opened her pocket. “Let’s take it back and cook it for Baby.”
Pang Fu giggled, drooling.
Back on the mountain, there had been mushrooms too, but none of the ones Pang Fu found could be eaten because she didn’t know how to start a fire and had no pot or stove.
Once the fragrant ones turned foul, she would throw them away.
“Find the fragrant ones.” Now she could. The clever little meatball knew she could gather plenty.
Qingqing Yin followed behind and spotted an especially pretty one: “Baby, fragrant.”
Pang Fu ran back, tilting her head to look at that red cap white stem: “Foul, Qingqing, hurry and go.”
Qingqing Yin quickly threw it away and followed Pang Fu away. Wherever Pang Fu pointed, she picked, filling her pockets full of mushrooms.
The mother and daughter were so delighted their eyes disappeared behind smiles: “So many fragrant ones!”
“You’re bad FZ, don’t pick the mushrooms. These belong to our Gouzi Brigade. Hand over the mushrooms you’ve picked, or we won’t be nice to you.”