Over the past few days, Wanxia Village had become lively again after a long time. Every household had its doors wide open—offering sacrifices to the Kitchen God, sweeping away dust, grinding tofu, slaughtering pigs and chickens and ducks, frying pastries, pasting Spring Festival couplets…
The children, who had been cooped up at home for a long time, ran all over the village in their patch-covered cotton clothes. Their cheeks were red from the cold, and their hands and feet were chapped and sore, yet they still stepped through the thick snow to find their familiar playmates.
A few boys, sniffling with runny noses, dashed to the Zhao family courtyard gate and shouted, “Xiao Wu, Guzi, Fengzi, A Deng, Xi’er, Aunt Xiaobao—come out and play!”
“Erlai, how did you come out? Is your cold better?” Zhao Xiao Wu heard the noise and hurried out of the kitchen, still holding a freshly fried, steaming pastry in his mouth—it had just come out of the pan and smelled delicious.
“I’m all better! Two doses of medicine and I was fine!” Zhao Erlai puffed out his chest like his father when bragging, showing how strong he was. As he spoke, two lines of clear snot almost slid into his mouth, and he quickly sniffed them back. “My mom told me to come thank Great-Uncle and Great-Aunt. If it weren’t for the two doses of cold medicine they gave me, I might have died. Xiao Wu, from now on, my life belongs to them!”
“Oh my, child, where did you learn to talk like that? Don’t say such nonsense again!” Wang Shi laughed from the main hall. This child was just like his father—no filter at all, talking about life and death so casually.
“Come in, all of you. Come have some fried pastries.” Wang Shi smiled and waved them over, then called to her eldest daughter-in-law in the kitchen, “Is the pastries ready? Bring a plate over.”
“Coming, Mother,” Zhu replied with a smile.
Zhao Erlai and the other boys were still a bit shy and tried to slip away, but Zhao Xiao Wu and the others stopped them. Laughing and pushing each other, the group of children headed into the main hall.
A few days ago, Zhao Erlai had caught a severe cold that came on fiercely and frightened his mother badly. His father had gone overnight to a neighboring village to find a doctor, but the mountain road had not been used for a long time and was buried under several feet of snow. In the pitch-dark night, he could barely move forward. In the end, Wang Shi, who had heard the news, brought over two doses of medicine, which saved Zhao Erlai’s life.
The Zhao family had many children, so every winter they prepared several doses of medicine in case of emergencies. Now they had finally come in handy.
Zhao Erlai was from the same clan and often played with Zhao Xiao Wu and the others. Because his hair was sparse, with only a few strands on his head, he got the unflattering nickname “Erlai.” He wasn’t good-looking, but he was very clever. Today, his mother finally allowed him to go out, so he immediately called a few close friends from the village and ran to the foot of the mountain.
Wang Shi held his little hand and looked him over several times, showing great concern.
Zhao Erlai had a sweet tongue and was good at flattering people. He kept saying things like, “Thank you, Great-Aunt. When I grow up, I’ll take care of you,” “You’re just like my real grandma,” and “I’ll earn money for you to spend.” Sweet words poured out endlessly, making Wang Shi laugh heartily and praise him for being obedient and filial.
“You take after your father—you’ll grow up to be quite the smooth talker!” Wang Shi said, patting his sparse hair. She handed him a plate of freshly fried, oily pastries and told him to share them with the others. She had always been generous with the children of the clan and never stingy with food.
“Thank you, Great-Aunt,” Zhao Erlai and the boys said. They didn’t take more than their share—each took one pastry, then laughing and jostling, they dragged the Zhao boys out to play in the village.
Snowflakes drifted outside—it was another snowy day.
Zhao Xiaobao didn’t go with them to have a snowball fight. She didn’t want to—the road outside was too slippery, her short legs couldn’t keep up with them, and she was wearing new clothes her mother had made. She loved her new cotton jacket and was afraid of dirtying it if she fell.
Sitting by the stove to keep warm, she held a fried pastry in her left hand and crispy pork in her right, eating happily, her mouth greasy with oil.
This year, the family didn’t lack fat or oil. In previous years, they only fried pastries, but this year they also made plenty of crispy pork.
Yesterday, the village slaughtered pigs for the New Year. The Zhao family’s two pigs, which had been carefully raised for a whole year, were also slaughtered. They sold one and kept the other. The one they kept would be made into cured meat that could last a year, serving as the family’s supply of meat and oil for the coming year. It could also be used for entertaining guests or exchanging favors.
Keeping an entire pig was a big move for the Zhao family and shocked many people in the village. After all, villagers had little income, and they relied on selling pigs for money each year. Being able to keep even a small portion of meat after slaughtering a pig was already considered very good.
“The old Zhao family is really living well now—almost as good as the village chief’s family,” some villagers said with jealousy.
The village chief’s family had over twenty acres of fertile land and a strong ox, making them the most comfortable household in Wanxia Village. Comparing the Zhao family to them was like comparing heaven and earth—it was practically insulting.
Wang Shi simply said calmly, “We have many children, and they’re all still growing. They need to eat more to stay healthy.”
That single sentence silenced the gossiping women.
Her sons were all strong and broad, with arms thicker than other people’s thighs. Their strength was famous in nearby villages. A few years ago, when they fought with an upstream village over water, Zhao Dashan and his brothers charged with hoes and defeated all the men on the other side, becoming famous overnight.
Like father, like sons. Zhao Dagen had three sons, and those sons had five more boys. The children—Wugu, Feng, Deng, Xi, and He—looked just like their fathers: sturdy, strong, and full of energy. Even at a young age, they had solid muscles and had never lost an arm-wrestling match with the village men. When fighting, they were known to be ruthless.
With the respected elder Zhao Dagen, the family had nine grown men of different ages, and they practically dominated the village—people even joked that ghosts would fear them.
Which village women wouldn’t envy them? But envy was one thing—they couldn’t bear to raise their families the way Wang Shi did. Keeping an entire pig for next year?
What a joke! How could they afford to live like that!
So this year, the Zhao family didn’t lack meat. Wang Shi could be so generous not only because the family was large, but also because of the box of gold buried under the peach tree. Unlike her husband, who only cared about their few acres of land, she was always thinking of ways to turn that gold into grain. Gold sitting unused was useless—only when exchanged for food, cloth, cotton, salt, and sugar could it truly benefit the family.
Compared to the few taels of silver earned from selling a pig, Wang Shi cared more about storing food. After all, no one knew what the next year would bring.
The grandchildren were still young, and it wasn’t time for big expenses yet. For now, it was better to focus on the present.
As long as they had enough to eat, weren’t starving, and grew strong, they would have better chances in the future—even carrying heavy loads at the docks would be easier.
People were the foundation.
The kitchen was bustling with activity. After frying crispy pork and pastries, they also made twisted dough snacks and sprinkled them with sesame seeds. In the countryside, this was already considered excellent food. Zhu and her sisters-in-law were so busy they barely had time to rest, but their faces were full of smiles. Life felt prosperous and full of hope—better than when they were still unmarried girls.
After finishing, Luo and Sun began cutting pork fat to render lard and fill the jars. Zhu cleaned up the fried food and poured everything into a bamboo basket, bringing it to the main hall so anyone could take some whenever they wanted.
The oil used for frying came from leftovers, and now it had all been used up. The jars were empty, ready to be filled with freshly rendered lard.
All morning, the kitchen chimney never stopped smoking. The rich, savory aroma of oil filled the entire courtyard.
Zhao Xiaobao sat under the eaves, holding a bowl of pork cracklings dusted with sugar. She looked up at the dark sky, listening to her parents and siblings in the main hall quietly discussing next year’s crops, hoping for rain and not another drought—hoping for a chance to survive.
They talked about how Xiao Wu and the others were growing older and could no longer sleep in the same bed. In winter it was fine—they kept warm—but in summer it would be unbearably hot. They needed to build two more rooms.
They also said that since they had kept more meat this year, when the daughters-in-law returned to their parents’ homes after the New Year, each could take a strip of meat as a gift, making their relatives happy.
Zhao Xiaobao picked up a piece of pork crackling to eat, but her hand slipped and it fell to the ground. A guilty look flashed across her face, and she quietly nudged it away with her toe so her parents wouldn’t see.
She glanced toward the main hall and, seeing no one had noticed, sighed in relief. She picked up another piece and put it in her mouth. Listening to their casual conversation, her eyelids slowly drooped.
She unconsciously kept chewing the oily cracklings.
At some point, the falling snow turned into thick, cotton-like flakes, growing heavier and heavier. The firewood in the stove crackled loudly—pop, crackle, pop.
With a sharp “clang,” several sugar-dusted cracklings fell to the ground.
“Xiaobao—”
“Little sister—”
Before losing consciousness, Zhao Xiaobao heard two urgent cries and the sound of hurried footsteps.
Everything suddenly went dark, then bright again. The courtyard was still the same, the snow still falling heavily, even the piece of crackling she had kicked away was still there.
Everything seemed unchanged—yet a sudden disaster struck.
The earth shook violently. The mountains roared. The ground churned. Birds shrieked. Dogs barked in terror—
In just a few breaths, screams of fear tore through the night. From somewhere, a heart-wrenching cry rang out.
“It’s an earthquake! The earth dragon is turning!”
“Waaah, Mother—”
“Help! My husband was crushed by a beam!”
“Father, Mother, Niuzi! Wake up! Stop sleeping—run for your lives!”
The villagers, awakened in panic, didn’t even have time to put on shoes. They grabbed whoever was beside them and ran outside, shouting to family members in neighboring rooms. The ground, usually steady, was impossible to stand on. Thatch and tiles fell from above. Thick beams crashed down. In just a few steps, some died while others survived.
Chickens and ducks flapped wildly in their pens, only to be crushed by collapsing wood and fall silent. The village’s only big yellow dog staggered in fear, barking frantically at the collapsed houses. It wanted to run but kept looking back, unwilling to leave.
Some people were buried silently under the rubble. Others were struck on the head by falling beams while escaping and fell without a sound. Many were hit by tiles, their heads bleeding as they ran into the courtyard, crying out for parents, spouses, and children.
Zhao Erlai, who had come earlier to thank them for the medicine, lay stiff in the courtyard, his face pale as paper—lifeless.
The lame second brother, who had gone to the mountains to gather firewood, was dug out from a collapsed mud wall by his bearded son, Lu Dan. His head was so badly crushed it was unrecognizable.
And many others—the Sister Li who once gave her plums, Grandma Wu who secretly gave her malt candy, Chun Ya who put pig feed in her basket, and the friends who ran through the mountains with her…
In an instant, they were all buried in this sudden disaster.