Once the grain bins at home were gradually filled to the brim, Li Xia set her sights on the empty plots of land in the courtyard. Early this morning, carrying a basket in her arms, she pulled Third Sister and Fourth Brother along as she dashed toward the back slope. “Come on, let’s go pinch sweet potato vines! We’ll plant them in the courtyard when we get back, and we can eat all the roasted sweet potatoes we want this winter!”
The sloping fields on the back mountain were where their family grew sweet potatoes, and lush, green vines completely carpeted the ground. Taking the lead, Li Xia squatted down, her nimble fingers pinching the tenderest sections at the tips of the vines. As she worked, she murmured instructions, “Make sure to pinch the ones with bud eyes; they’ll survive much better when planted.” However, she hadn’t been pinching for long before the sun climbed high into the sky, causing sweat to pour down her forehead. She simply threw her basket onto the ground and found a stone under the shade of a tree to sit on. “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t do it, the sun is too brutal. You guys pinch them first, I’m going to rest a bit.”
Third Sister shot her a helpless glare, while Fourth Brother didn’t utter a single complaint, merely laughing as he said, “You, all you ever do is come up with the ideas, leaving all the actual work to us.” Despite their words, the two of them quickened their pace, and by the time the sun approached midday, they had harvested a full basket of sweet potato vines. Upon returning home, Li Xia directed Eldest Brother and Second Brother to till the soil and dig holes, while she hid beneath the eaves of the roof, fanning herself with a cattail fan. Once the sweet potato vines were successfully planted, the subsequent tasks of watering and fertilizing fell entirely upon her two older brothers—Li Xia only occasionally strolled out into the courtyard to check on them, offering a few beaming words of praise whenever she saw how vigorously the vines were growing.
Mother Yuan took it all in but never said a word. In any case, planting sweet potato vines in the courtyard didn’t take up much space, and the resulting sweet potatoes were still food. As long as there was a harvest in the end, it couldn’t be considered a waste.
The blistering summer gradually waned, and the autumn winds began to brush the rice fields with yellow. However, the heavy rice ears that usually bent low under their own weight in previous years were sparse and scrawny this year. The ears were thin and small, feeling light as a feather when cupped in one’s hand, without even a distinct outline of the rice grains. The veteran farmers in the village who had spent their entire lives tilling the soil carried their hoes to the fields every day to inspect the crop, returning with drooping heads as they sighed in despair: “This year’s harvest is probably ruined. We might not even get half of what we usually do.”
Ever since the end of summer, Father Yuan and Mother Yuan had been harboring nagging worries—with rainfall this scarce, how could the crops possibly grow well? The water level in the river channels had also plummeted drastically, almost revealing the riverbed. Anxious, the family quietly reduced their food portions. Previously, they could enjoy a bowl of solid steamed rice every meal, but now it was replaced by thin porridge mixed with dried sweet potatoes from last year’s harvest. The glints of oil used in stir-frying also grew sparse; most of the time, they simply stir-fried wild vegetables without oil. Although the children felt they weren’t getting enough to eat, they were sensible and never complained.
Once the autumn harvest began, everyone in the village exerted every ounce of strength to cut the rice and thresh the grain in the fields, keeping busy for a full half-month. In the end, the harvested paddy only occupied less than half of the granary compared to previous years. Fortunately, every household planted some sweet potatoes along the ridges of the fields and on wasteland every year. After harvesting the rice, everyone shouldered their hoes to dig up the sweet potatoes. The sweet potatoes planted in the Yuan family courtyard yielded a harvest as well; though the unearthed tubers weren’t particularly large, they were densely packed and piled up like a small mountain, serving as a pleasant surprise.
Once all the food was brought into their storehouse and the state grain requisition was paid, most families in the village began to subsist on thin porridge for every single meal. The thicker porridge had to be reserved for the strong laborers in the family, while the elderly and children could only drink watery broth that clearly reflected their reflections.
Because the Yuan family had hoarded grain in advance, their lives were somewhat more bearable than others. Looking at the two pigs raised in the pen, Mother Yuan calculated for a while before consulting Father Yuan, “With these two pigs this year, let’s keep one to eat ourselves and sell the other. Right now, our family isn’t desperately short of the little money from selling a pig. Keeping a pig around will allow us to cure some bacon for the winter, saving us from running short of meat later on, and it will give us peace of mind.” Father Yuan nodded, finding her words reasonable—in a famine year, having both grain and meat was the only way to feel truly secure.
Just as Mother Yuan was envisioning eating bacon during the winter, Grandma Yuan’s booming voice suddenly echoed from outside the courtyard gate: “Eldest Son! Eldest Son’s wife! Are you home?” Her heart gave a sudden thump, and the smile on her face vanished in an instant—sure enough, what was bound to come had arrived.
Grandma Yuan and Grandpa Yuan walked into the courtyard one after the other. Without even sitting down, Grandma Yuan said straight to the point, “It’s time for you to hand over this year’s filial support grain. I don’t care how much people outside claim the crop yield has decreased; anyway, not a single grain of food for your father and me can be missing, and it must be the exact same amount as previous years!”
Mother Yuan pursed her lips, her face turning so dark it looked as though it might drip water. In previous years when handing over the filial support grain, she had never uttered a word of complaint. But with food being so tight this year, Grandma Yuan still opened her mouth like a lion demanding a massive share, making her feel incredibly suffocated. Yet, looking at Grandpa Yuan standing silently to the side, and thinking about Grandma Yuan’s propensity for throwing tantrums, she ultimately chose not to say anything. Turning around, she went into the granary to scoop out paddy and sweet potatoes—the paddy she provided amounted to two-thirds of previous years, and the sweet potatoes made up one-third, which added up to the same total volume as before.
After seeing the elderly couple off, Mother Yuan could no longer contain her anger, turning around to vent her frustration on Father Yuan: “Look at your mother! Look at what kind of year it is, yet she still expects the exact same amount of grain as previous years! From what I can see, the Second Brother’s family is living far more comfortably than any other household in the village this year.”
Father Yuan also let out a helpless sigh. He knew Mother Yuan felt wronged, but those were his parents; even if they weren’t close, he couldn’t truly refuse to give them food. Moreover, he knew Grandma Yuan’s temperament better than anyone—if they didn’t give her enough grain, she would lie down right at the entrance of the Yuan family courtyard and wail, drawing the entire village to watch, which would ultimately bring public shame upon the Yuan family. “Forget it,” Father Yuan patted Mother Yuan’s shoulder, “we’ve already given it to them, so don’t be angry anymore. It’s better than her throwing a tantrum.”
Li Xia heard everything crystal clear from inside the room, and her admiration for this grandmother sank to an absolute low. She had caught Grandma Yuan sneaking into their kitchen on more than one occasion, lifting the lid of the egg basket to steal eggs. Not only did she pocket every single egg in the basket, but she also went to the chicken coop to snatch away the dummy egg specifically left behind to encourage the hens to lay. There was another time when she and her older brothers and sisters went to Grandma’s house; the moment Grandma Yuan saw them coming, she hurriedly shoved the food on the table into a cabinet and locked it tight. Later on, Second Uncle’s son—her cousin—even deliberately flaunted it in front of them: “My grandma has tons of delicious treats locked in her cabinet, and they are all for me! There are fried dough twists, biscuits, and even black sesame candy, things you guys have definitely never tasted before!”
At that time, Fourth Brother was so infuriated he almost rushed forward to punch him. Li Xia had also simmered with anger, and from that moment on, she no longer liked going to Grandma’s house. Aside from the mandatory New Year’s visits, she didn’t even want to get near the entrance of their home during ordinary days.