Up on the roof, Auntie Li’s head snapped back so fast that the wild greens she was holding hit the dirt with a wet thud.
Nearby, a craftsman’s grip faltered; his hammer slipped and landed squarely on his big toe. He let out a strangled yelp of agony.
Young Shan-zi stood frozen, staring up at Shen Li perched high in the branches. He instinctively scrambled toward the side room, shouting for his friend. “Ya-ya! Come quick! Come look at your sister-in-law! Get out here, hurry!”
The panic in Shan-zi’s voice sent a jolt through the brothers inside. Er-lang’s first thought was that something had happened to Shen Li. In a fit of desperation, he struggled forward, his weight nearly toppling the commode chair.
“Brother! Don’t move!” Ya-ya shrieked, lunging to grab the armrests.
But he was too small. If he held the chair, he couldn’t reach Er-lang; if he reached for Er-lang, the chair would tip. As he watched his brother slowly pitch forward, Ya-ya burst into tears of frustration.
Auntie Li heard the commotion and hurried toward the room, but Shen Li was faster. She dropped from the walnut tree with the grace of a cat and reached the side room before the older woman.
“What happened?” Shen Li barked as she burst through the door. She saw Ya-ya straining against the chair and Er-lang’s cotton wrap coming loose as he tumbled toward the floor.
In two long strides, she was there, catching Er-lang in her arms and steadying the chair. Feeling the frantic, thundering rhythm of his heart against her chest, she reached up and gently smoothed his hair.
“Don’t be afraid,” she whispered. “I’m here.”
Er-lang stared at her, speechless. I was the one worried about you!
“It’s alright now, Ya-ya.” Shen Li sat Er-lang upright and knelt to give the sobbing toddler a comforting pat. The poor child’s face was white with terror.
Auntie Li hovered anxiously outside the door. Remembering that Shen Li had said Er-lang wasn’t “ready” yet, she didn’t dare step inside. “Li! Is Er-lang okay? He didn’t fall, did he?”
Before Shen Li could answer, she heard Auntie Li turn her frustration on her own son. “You little brat, what are you yelling for? Look what you did! If your Uncle Xiao had fallen, I’d skin you alive!”
“If he’d fallen, I’d help her thrash you!” Li Baoshan added from the roof, his voice muffled. He had seen the whole thing, but he hadn’t been the one screaming. He let out a sharp cough and rubbed his throbbing foot. Yes—he was the one who had dropped the hammer.
“Auntie Li, Er-lang is fine. Don’t scare the boy,” Shen Li called out.
She had Ya-ya wait outside and closed the door. After cleaning Er-lang up, she helped him into a fresh pair of trousers. He watched her intently, his eyes burning with questions about what had happened outside.
“I just climbed the walnut tree to take a look,” Shen Li murmured into his ear. “Those walnuts are good things.”
She pulled back to see him nodding seriously, though his expression was utterly bewildered.
Climbed a tree? Er-lang was stunned. It wasn’t just Shan-zi who was shocked; in this village—likely in this entire town—you wouldn’t find another woman who could scale a tree that high with her bare hands. Besides, everyone knew those walnuts were inedible; they were all shell and no nut. Why was she so fond of them?
Shen Li rummaged through her bundles and pulled out the new outfit she had bought for him: a moon-white robe of fine cotton with indigo trim. The style was simple, but the colors were crisp and clean.
Er-lang remained passive as she dressed him, combed his hair, and secured it with a wooden crown carved with a bamboo motif. When she finally stepped back to look at him, Shen Li froze.
Er-lang was thin, but in his days of health, he must have been the picture of elegance. Even in this simple robe, contrasted against his ink-black hair and cool, refined features, he possessed an ethereal, almost celestial air. Then there were those peach-blossom eyes and that captivating vermilion birthmark.
Shen Li closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her chest, listening to her own racing pulse. He’s a demon, she thought. How does a tiny village produce someone like this? If I have to look at this face every day, my blood pressure is never going to survive.
When she opened her eyes, Er-lang was looking at her with concern. She smirked and reached out to pinch his cheek. “My Er-lang really is handsome!”
Er-lang offered a strained smile and leaned away from her hand, dropping his gaze. His reaction was a bit odd, but Shen Li didn’t dwell on it. She knelt and pulled a pair of linen shoes from the bundle, sliding them onto his feet.
Shoes? Er-lang’s eyes dimmed. He hadn’t worn shoes since the day he became paralyzed. Most villagers wore straw sandals; what right did a useless man like him have to wear such expensive shoes?
Seeing the sudden slump in his shoulders, Shen Li felt a pang of heartache. She cupped his face, forcing him to look her in the eye.
“I told you, I will cure you,” she said firmly. “These shoes are just waiting for the moment their master is ready to walk in them.”
Er-lang searched her eyes, looking for any sign that she was merely offering empty comfort. But her gaze was clear and bright, filled with a certainty that made him believe her—just a little bit more.
Shen Li opened the window and moved one of the armchairs out into the courtyard, placing it under the shade of the walnut tree where the sun still dappled through. She folded a summer quilt into a thick cushion on the seat.
Only then did she lift Er-lang in her arms and carry him out.
The laborers on the roof, including Li Baoshan, stopped what they were doing. They rubbed their eyes in unison. Did that woman just carry Er-lang out like he was a feather?
Shen Li ignored the stares. She turned and went back inside to clean the commode. She didn’t want to do it in front of him; she wanted to protect the dignity he fought so hard to keep.