The next morning, the sound of roosters crowing echoed throughout the village, one after another.
Li Miaomiao woke up, yawning and rubbing her eyes. She sat up and looked back at the bed. The man was still fast asleep. Carefully, she moved her hand from his waist and slipped out of bed on tiptoe.
Pulling the door open, she gazed out at the thick, swirling morning mist. She stretched her arms and looked at the makeshift bamboo fence surrounding the yard.
“It looks even worse in the daylight.”
One step at a time, she thought. First, let’s get breakfast cooked.
With that, she headed toward the kitchen. The moment her hand left his waist, Xiao Xian slowly opened his eyes.
Li Miaomiao prepared white porridge. She carried it into the main room, placed it on the dining table, and only then went to knock on Xiao Xian’s door.
“Time to get up and eat.”
She pressed her ear against the door, waiting until she heard a cold, thin response before walking away.
There was a water well in the courtyard; since Xiao Xian hadn’t been here long, it must have been built by the previous owner of the house. She hoisted up a bucket of water and went to the kitchen windowsill to grab a willow branch and a bowl. Scopping out some water, she chewed the bark off the end of the willow branch—her makeshift toothbrush—and walked off to clean her teeth.
By the time she had finished washing her face, Xiao Xian finally emerged, leaning on two wooden crutches. Seeing those crutches made Li Miaomiao wince; she felt a pang of sympathy for the strain it must put on his body.
“Let me bring you a basin of water to wash your face.”
“I can do it myself.”
The kitchen windowsill wasn’t high, but even with Xiao Xian’s long limbs, maneuvering while relying on crutches made even simple tasks like picking up the willow branch a struggle. Even as the hem of his clothes brushed against the muddy ground near the well, he insisted on drawing his own water. He was determined not to let her help him if he could avoid it.
Li Miaomiao knitted her brows. He’s trying to prove he’s not a cripple, she realized. And he’s not doing it for me.
After breakfast, she washed the quilt and hung it on a bamboo pole. She cleared out all the foul-smelling hay from her room, intending to go out and gather some fresh stalks. Noticing that Xiao Xian was heading back to his room to lie down, she asked, “Where is the wood-chopping knife?”
The man didn’t look back. “Inside the firewood pile,” he replied coldly.
Li Miaomiao dug out the knife. There were bundles of thatch piled up beside the hut, but she planned to head to the mountain behind the village first. Just as she closed the door, she spotted the village chief and the Lin family walking toward the house with purposeful strides. Li Xiaorou was trailing right behind them.
Yesterday, the eldest son, Lin Dalang, had abandoned the original owner to “rescue” Li Xiaorou, who had threatened to kill herself. The two had successfully married as a result.
Watching Li Xiaorou sway her waist like a water snake, Li Miaomiao sneered, a thought crossing her mind. “What does she want now?”
“Li Miaomiao, are you heading out? That’s perfect; we have something to discuss with you.” The elderly village chief called out to her.
“Grandfather Chief, what matter has troubled you enough to come all the way here yourself?”
The chief was slightly surprised by her polite and respectful demeanor, though not entirely—after all, he had watched all the village youths grow up.
“It’s regarding that plot of land. Your Uncle Youcai came to see me specifically today, asking me to draw a boundary line.”
Lin Dalang’s father was named Lin Youcai, and his mother was Bai Lian.
Land?
Li Miaomiao suddenly remembered. Her father had indeed owned a plot of land, but it had been loaned to the Lin parents under the assumption that the two families would eventually be linked by marriage.
It belonged entirely to her family, she thought. Where did this talk of ‘dividing’ it come from?
Li Miaomiao kept her tone calm and measured. “Grandfather Chief, if I recall correctly, that plot of land was left to me by my father. A few years ago, because of my engagement to Lin Dalang, my father allowed Uncle Lin to cultivate it.”
As soon as these words left her lips, the Lin parents nearly lost their footing. That year, the Lin family’s harvest had been halved; they had gone to Old Man Li, weeping and begging until they had finally persuaded him to hand over the land for them to farm.
They had assumed Li Miaomiao was utterly foolish. Their plan today was to seize the land by presenting the village chief with a fait accompli, claiming the land was now rightfully theirs. They never expected Li Miaomiao to lay out the truth so plainly in front of the village chief.
Watching the color drain from Father Lin’s face, Li Miaomiao maintained a serene expression and took two steps to the side, ensuring the village chief could clearly see their reactions.
“That acre of land was meant for me. I remember Uncle Lin saying at the time that since I would marry Dalang sooner or later, it would be better if they simply farmed it first.”
“Now that I have married someone else, it is only natural that they return the land to me.”
That plot was incredibly fertile. Even if she had no money, she and Xiao Xian could survive on the potatoes and crops grown there.
“Impossible!” Father Lin stepped forward abruptly, pointing at Li Miaomiao and shouting, “The land was voluntarily transferred to me by your father! You can’t marry my son, so now you’re spouting nothing but lies!”
Mother Lin chimed in aggressively, “You say it’s yours? Can you produce the evidence?”
They were so arrogant because they were certain Li Miaomiao didn’t possess the official land deed.
The village chief stroked his beard. He had discussed this very matter with Old Man Li back when they drank together, and out of respect for his old friend, he was determined to help Li Miaomiao. He spoke with the demeanor of a kind elder: “Li Miaomiao, where is the pipe your father left you?”
“I kept it in the chest along with my dowry when I came to the Xiao household. Grandfather Chief, please wait a moment, I will go get it.”
Li Miaomiao remembered that before Old Man Li passed, he had repeatedly urged the original owner to guard her dowry and the pipe, though he never revealed that something was hidden inside. The original owner had thought it was just a piece of broken junk and had tossed it to the bottom of a chest.
Seeing Li Miaomiao run back into the hut, Father Lin shot a glance at Mother Lin. Having been the village chief for decades, how could he not see what they were planning? He clapped his large hand down, his expression stern.
“If you don’t want others to know, don’t do it in the first place.”
His words turned the Lin parents’ faces from red to white. They wanted to offer an excuse, but couldn’t find a single reasonable thing to say.
Li Miaomiao returned carrying the small wooden box. It wasn’t locked; a light flick was all it took to open it. She pulled out the pipe, which still carried the heavy scent of tobacco, and after studying it closely, discovered the clever mechanism. She closed the box, turned to the village chief, and handed it to him with both hands.
“Grandfather Chief, here it is.”
The village chief began to examine it. Following the method Old Man Li had described to him, he pinched one end and twisted the other. As the pipe separated in the middle, a yellowed piece of paper gradually appeared before them.
The Lin parents’ expressions changed instantly. Damn that old liar!
He had told them the land deed had been burned by Li Miaomiao, but they hadn’t believed him and had tried every trick to pry the truth out of her—only for her to always claim she knew nothing. They shifted all the resentment they had felt toward the father onto the daughter, glaring at her with profound malice.
The land had originally belonged to Old Man Li, and he had gone to the magistrate’s office to change the name on the deed to Li Miaomiao’s—a fact he had shared only with the village chief.
As the chief unfolded the official deed on the table, Li Miaomiao felt a complicated swell of emotions. Her father had arranged this safety net for the original owner, yet he had allowed the stepmother, Li Dalan, and her stepsister to bully her mercilessly. She couldn’t understand his logic.
The Lin parents crowded around, and when they saw the name on the paper, their faces turned as black as charcoal. Li Xiaorou looked so jealous she could have bitten through her own teeth.
The village chief scanned their faces, folded the deed, and handed it to Li Miaomiao with a stern instruction: “Keep this safe.”
“Thank you, Grandfather Chief.”
Li Miaomiao tucked the deed into a small hidden pocket in her sleeve and returned the pipe to the box. With the black ink, the official seal, and the village chief standing right there, the Lin family had no way to act out. Father Lin was frantic and sweating.
“Chief! We’ve farmed that land for three years! It’s already March—in two months, the potatoes in the ground will be ready for harvest. If you force us to return the land to her now, what are we supposed to do about the crop we’ve already planted?”