To put it nicely, Erguo and Sanxi’s hair was just hair—but to be honest, it looked more like yellowed straw. Tangled in clumps like dried grass stalks, it was full of fine dust and sand, so stiff that you could feel the roughness just by touching it.
“Sit down and don’t move.” Yuanxiang brought over a basin of hot water, pressing the two children onto small wooden stools. Using a wooden ladle, she slowly poured water over their heads.
Steam rose up, making both little heads shrink back slightly. Erguo bit his lip to hold back a reaction, while Sanxi couldn’t help letting out a soft hiss. As the water ran down their hair, the once-clear liquid quickly turned murky and yellow, dripping with fine dirt and grime.
Yuanxiang frowned, running her hands through their tangled locks to wash them gently, but some knots were stuck fast—no amount of pulling would loosen them.
“This isn’t hair anymore—it’s like rope…” She sighed, turning to fetch a pair of scissors.
Erguo shrank back in fright. “A-Jie, I don’t want a haircut…”
“What are you afraid of? Cut off the bad parts, and new hair will grow back black and shiny.” She soothed him as she held his head steady, snip-snipping away the driest, stiffest clumps.
When Sanxi saw her brother get his hair cut, she lowered her head without a word and let Yuanxiang do as she pleased. Seeing how obedient the little girl was, Yuanxiang’s heart softened, and she handled her hair more gently.
Soon, a layer of yellowed hair clippings covered the ground like fine dry grass. After rinsing their heads again, their scalps were finally free, revealing clean skin all around. The remaining hair was shorter, but much softer and smoother.
“There—give it some time, and you’ll have beautiful hair again.” Yuanxiang ruffled their heads with a smile.
Erguo and Sanxi touched their newly trimmed scalps—they’d forgotten how light and easy it felt to have clean hair. Looking at their reflections in the basin, they weren’t used to seeing themselves with such short hair, which made them look a little silly. Both wore shy smiles on their faces.
Watching the two children—so young yet as thin as twigs—Yuanxiang knew they’d endured countless hardships on their journey here. Her heart ached, and she promised herself she’d take good care of them from now on, at least until they’d put on some healthy weight.
After finishing with her siblings, Yuanxiang picked up the basin of water—she’d already changed it twice—and untied the cloth holding her own hair back.
Her long black hair fell down her back as she bent over to soak it in the warm water. The temperature was just right, and her gentle hands ran from the ends all the way to her scalp, pressing lightly to ease away the day’s tiredness. She let out a soft sigh of relief.
Her hair was longer than the children’s, and when wet, it clung smoothly to her neck and shoulders, gliding against her skin with each movement. Only the ends were dry and yellowed from sun and wind—most of it was still in good condition.
She carefully scrubbed each strand, the warm water carrying a faint soapy scent that made her feel completely relaxed. She thought that with proper care, in just a couple of months it would be as black and glossy as ever.
Finally, she cupped water in her hands and poured it over her whole head. Water droplets traced paths down her temples, washing away sweat and weariness, leaving her feeling fresh and light all over.
As she washed her hair, she thought about their kitchenware—right now, they only had one clay basin with a hole (patched up, of course), plus three homemade bamboo bowls. It was nowhere near enough.
The peddler had been selling bowls, basins, and pots the other day—ceramic, wooden, even porcelain ones—but they were too expensive. A clay bowl cost three wen, a clay basin ten wen, and wooden or porcelain pieces were even pricier. She’d decided to keep her money safe until she found a way to earn more, so she’d passed on buying them.
Suddenly, she remembered seeing pottery-making segments on survival shows, and she’d even joined a ceramics club in college. From what she recalled, you didn’t need complicated materials—everything could come straight from nature. Maybe she could give it a try?
……
The next day, Yuanxiang woke early after a good night’s sleep. Thinking about her plan filled her with energy.
“Come on—let’s go dig some mud.” She slung a basket over her shoulder, shouldered the hoe, and called Erguo and Sanxi to follow her to the riverbank.
“Dig mud?” Though confused, the children followed their sister anyway.
Yuanxiang’s plan was to try making her own pottery. She’d never done it before, but why not give it a shot? It cost nothing to try, so even if it failed, she’d lose nothing.
Ordinary soil wasn’t as good as clay for making smooth, sturdy pottery, so she wanted to dig some river silt to test it out. Of course, soil composition varied by location, and only firing would tell if it was suitable.
The river wound through the entire village, dividing Xu Village into South and North. An old wooden bridge connected the two halves, and Yuanxiang and her siblings lived in the North Village.
On the opposite bank, several women were washing clothes by the water. They noticed Yuanxiang and the children immediately and began eyeing them curiously.
Scrubbing dirty clothes in their hands, the women chatted among themselves:
“Those faces look new—must be the refugees the village chief was talking about.”
“Looks like it.”
Yuanxiang saw them too, but didn’t recognize any of them—they must be locals from Xu Village. One plump woman made eye contact with her and smiled; Yuanxiang smiled back.
When she swung her hoe to dig the first scoop of mud, a small commotion broke out on the other side.
“Hey—what’s she digging over there?” one woman asked suddenly.
“Looks like river silt, but what for?”
As Yuanxiang’s basket filled higher and higher with mud, the women began speculating:
“Maybe they need to repair their house? Those old places they’re living in are falling apart—who knows how long they’ve been empty.”
“They do have it tough,” the plump woman said suddenly, after listening quietly for a while.
A sharp voice cut in: “Tough? They come here and get land and grain allocated to them, while we locals get nothing. I wonder who’s really worse off.”
“That’s right! Did you hear? Some refugees settled in the next village, and now things there are all messed up!”
“Bunch of penniless strangers—what else can they do but steal and cheat? Today they’re digging river mud; who knows what they’ll do tomorrow…”
Yuanxiang never heard these words. The basket of wet silt was so heavy that all three of them had to work together to drag it back home.
“A-Jie, what are we doing with all this mud?” Erguo panted as he asked.
“You’ll see in a bit.” Yuanxiang was tired too—getting the mud back had taken a lot of effort.
The mud couldn’t be used right away; it needed to be processed first. She taught the children how to sieve it, picking out all the pebbles, twigs, and clumps until only pure silt remained.
She cut enough branches to build a fire, then once the mud was sieved, they placed it by the flames to dry out a little—drier mud would be easier to shape by hand.
When the mud was ready, Yuanxiang started making pottery. She decided to start simple—they needed bowls, so she’d try firing some clay bowls first.
She sprinkled wood ash on a flat stone slab to prevent sticking, then took a handful of mud and placed it on the stone, shaping it into a bowl with her hands. Soon, a palm-sized mud bowl took form, though it was rough and uneven since it was hand-molded.
Using the flat side of the short knife, she smoothed out the bowl—trimming excess mud here, patching gaps there with wet clay, working carefully until it looked more even.
Erguo and Sanxi’s hands were covered in mud as they watched their sister shape the bowl. They’d played with mud plenty of times before—after rain, they’d made mud houses, dolls, bowls, and balls—and were eager to try. They happily joined in, shaping their own bowls.
In the end, they made six bowls total. Yuanxiang touched up the ones the children had made, and once all the shapes were set, it was time to fire them.
First, they pre-dried the bowls by the fire. Once they were completely dry, she placed them upside down in the center of the fire, piled branches around them to form a cone shape, then lit it.
As she added more wood, she used leaves to fan the flames, keeping a close eye on the bowls inside. She stopped adding branches only when the bowls glowed red-hot from the heat.
“A-Jie, will these bowls actually work?” Sanxi asked as she fanned the fire. She’d made mud bowls before when playing house, but once they dried, they’d always leaked water and even made the water dirty with mud residue.
How could she explain chemical and physical reactions to a child? After a moment, she said: “The bowls you made before were just dried wet mud—even when they seemed dry, there was still water inside. But now we’re firing them in hot flames, which removes all the water and makes the mud particles stick together tightly and harden.”
Sanxi didn’t fully understand, but she thought her sister sounded very knowledgeable and looked at her with admiration.
“A-Jie, how do you know so many things?” Erguo asked suddenly, not looking up from his fanning.