At first Chen Fa-zhan had no intention of bringing Shu-shu up the mountain. After all they had come to work not to play. But the little one pleaded and clung to him until finally his wife, his mother, his children and even his own father all gave in and turned to insist he take the little girl along for an outing. Reluctantly Chen Fa-zhan agreed. When Chen You-ning saw Shu-shu was allowed to go she made such a fuss too and declared grandly that she was going to help the grown-ups look after Shu-shu.
In the end both little girls came along. Since two were already coming, Chen Fa-zhan asked his own three children whether they wished to join them. All three declined. The two elder children carried mature minds in young bodies and felt no great interest in mountain paths so they chose to stay behind.
Their youngest brother was two months younger than Shu-shu and had never been reborn; he was simply a true little child. Having always followed close behind his older siblings he saw them staying back and announced he did not wish to go either. Chen Fa-zhan pressed them no further and set off with Shu-shu alone.
Chen You-ning would travel under her own father’s care and needed no looking after by her uncle. The two little girls were settled into wicker baskets slung upon the Chen brothers shoulders and set off swaying gently along the path. On the way as they gathered with others bound for the mountain they discovered Ke Xiao-hua had come too walking beside her own father.
“Sister Xiao-hua!” Shu-shu cried out in happy surprise.
“Shu-shu you have come to help gather eggs too haven’t you.” Ke Xiao-hua waved back, equally delighted.
“Mmm yes. Shu-shu shall collect eggs.” Shu-shu nodded her round head earnestly, having quite forgotten she had really come along simply to play. Chen You-ning smiled secretly beside her and said nothing to give the game away. The three little girls leaned together across the rims of their baskets chattering busily and making the journey pass most pleasantly.
As mentioned before Fengyang Village stood surrounded by hills. One slope rose gently and a short way within the trees a great stretch of hillside had been enclosed by heavy hemp ropes strung from tree to tree. Beyond those ropes lay the village chicken farm. Yes this entire expanse of fenced woodland was the village collective chicken farm.
The year was nineteen seventy. More than two years earlier on the very day the village chief had found and picked up little Shu-shu every soul in Fengyang Village had awakened to a second life. In those days peasants were still encouraged to pursue every branch of agriculture and to develop livestock breeding and side occupations.
Upon their rebirth the village chief had led them in submitting a formal proposal to establish collective pig farms, chicken farms, duck farms, fish ponds and every kind of rural enterprise they could imagine. In the end only the pig farm and the chicken farm received approval. Applications for ponds and duck rearing were turned down as the village lacked suitable terrain.
Wishing to attract no undue attention the village chief and his fellow elders decided the pig farm which needed daily attendance should be built within the village while the chicken farm would be enclosed upon the mountainside. All chickens there ranged freely upon the hills.
Apart from days when workers climbed up to replenish feed, collect manure and gather eggs the birds were left entirely to themselves thriving and wandering as they pleased. Only when the flock reached marketable size did the village organise a collective expedition to round them up.
So long as the farm remained in operation it belonged to the collective. A portion of all eggs and mature birds were therefore turned over to the state each year. Whatever remained belonged to the village. By-products such as manure and feathers were exempt from delivery kept as a reward for the village’s labour and initiative.
Should the farm ever be ordered closed the villagers need only remove the enclosing ropes and the enterprise would cease to exist. And the chickens left behind? They would simply be wild fowl grown of their own accord upon the mountain. What concern would they be of the village? Any eggs or birds villagers happened upon thereafter would be nothing more than happy finds of pure good fortune.
Chickens abounded upon the mountain. Egg droppings and shed feathers could be seen scattered everywhere from the moment one stepped within the enclosure. Upon discovering their first nest of eggs Shu-shu and her companions were lifted down from their baskets and allowed to walk beside the grown-ups searching wherever eggs might lie. The baskets that had carried them were now pressed into service to hold the harvest.
Others carried wooden buckets slung from shoulder poles or trundled wheelbarrows piled high with more buckets. These were for collecting chicken manure. Where substantial piles were found workers would pause to shovel them carefully into the containers. Yet gathering manure in this manner was slow going. Rather than halt repeatedly for every small deposit the group moved on pausing only when it proved worthwhile.
Wandering gradually onward they arrived at a clearing halfway up the slope. Several simple huts stood there built of earth and thatch. Inside and out wicker baskets lined with straw stood brimming with eggs while others sheltered brooding hens. These birds knew no fear of people. At the first sight of visitors they clucked and crowded forward expectantly. They knew well that visitors meant feed. Today was no exception. Chen Fa-zhan had carried several sacks of grain mash up the mountain. Once at the clearing he directed the sacks be opened and the feed scattered abroad.
“Come along now come along. Time to eat.” With feed scattered Chen Fa-zhan cupped his hands around his mouth and called out in a long clear cry.
Shu-shu’s eyes grew wide. At his call the woods seemed to stir. From every direction wings unfolded and countless chickens came flying in a great sweeping tide. The sight was nothing short of magnificent.
“So many chickens!”
“Truly an army of chickens.” Chen You-ning and Ke Xiao-hua had never visited the farm before. They stood awestruck witnessing the same wonder.
“Hold me. Afraid.” What had begun as amazement turned swiftly to fear. Shu-shu turned and clung, clutching Chen Fa-zhan’s trousers and scrambling upward. He stooped at once, lifted her into his arms and soothed her gently. “There is nothing to fear. Uncle is here. No chicken shall dare peck you.”
Chen You-ning and Ke Xiao-hua were also swiftly gathered up into their own fathers arms. It was not that the girls were timid. It was simply that at their present tender age few children could reasonably stand their ground against several hundred chickens. A sensible precaution rather than cowardice. A very prudent and safety conscious decision indeed.
The group waited more than ten minutes until no further birds came winging from the trees. Surveying the great flock gathered round Chen Fa-zhan gave the signal. All set to work gathering manure, collecting eggs and sweeping up feathers. Manure would enrich the fields.
Eggs were currency in every rural household. Feathers would be sold to workshops in the market town to be fashioned into dusters and shuttlecocks. Even a full sack of feathers fetched but a modest sum yet every copper counted and it all added to the village income.
While grown-ups worked the children were kept busy too. Shu-shu was given a stout sack and asked to help gather loose feathers. She dragged it along behind her trotting in the footsteps of the older girls peering beneath every thatch eave and around the huts searching for feathers wherever they lay.
The work might have seemed tedious to others yet Shu-shu found it delightful. Each brightly coloured feather she discovered felt like a tiny treasure. And Uncle Fa-zhan had made her a wonderful promise every copper earned from selling her feathers would be hers to keep. Shu-shu had never truly possessed money of her own before.
She worked with boundless enthusiasm. Ke Xiao-hua and Chen You-ning had received exactly the same assurance. To them gathering feathers held little joy yet the prospect of earning wages changed everything. In those days and at their age opportunities to earn even a small amount were exceedingly rare. Had they been but a few years older they might have scorned such work. For now however they applied themselves diligently.
Fortunately great numbers of chickens roosted constantly around the huts and shed feathers lay in thick drifts. The girls gathered quickly and without difficulty. Before long each sack was half full. By the time they descended the mountain they calculated each might easily fill three full sacks.
“How much do you suppose three sacks of feathers shall fetch us.” Ke Xiao-hua asked Chen You-ning.
“I heard my father say that unprocessed feathers sell for three to five li per jin.” Chen You-ning replied. “The exact price depends upon quality.”
“What is li.” Shu-shu piped up in her soft baby voice.
“A li is a very small unit of money.” Ke Xiao-hua explained patiently. “One yuan equals ten jiao. One jiao equals ten fen. And one fen equals ten li.”
Shu-shu tilted her head, thought deeply for a moment and then announced. “Then li must be very very tiny.”
“She actually understood.” Chen You-ning stared in astonishment. Ke Xiao-hua’s explanation had been clear enough yet for a child barely two years old to grasp such a concept was truly remarkable.
“Our Shu-shu has always been exceptionally clever.” Ke Xiao-hua said proudly.
“Shu-shu is clever.” Shu-shu agreed happily, catching the warmth of their praise.
“Very well then, a clever girl.” Chen You-ning smiled. “Back to work with you. I wonder if we shall earn even a single jiao by day’s end.”
“If we try very hard I am certain we shall.” Ke Xiao-hua said encouragingly whether speaking to herself or to them all she did not say. Then she bent once more to brush loose feathers from the perches.
Inside the huts the roosts were arranged in traditional rows tier upon tier of wooden frames holding nest baskets. This was where the birds spent most of their time and feathers clung thickest to every surface. The girls concentrated their efforts there yet being so short and without a stool or ladder they could not reach the upper tiers. Those would have to be left for the grown-ups to collect.
The group had climbed the mountain shortly after seven in the morning and worked until five in the afternoon before turning homeward. Midday meal had been eaten upon the slopes. Each had brought provisions. Shu-shu drank warm sweet sesame paste ground at the village chief’s own mill sweetened with sugar and savoured every mouthful. She also nibbled half a steamed corn bun.
On the return journey sacks of feathers rose high upon the wheelbarrows secured firmly with rope lest they slide. The men’s baskets brimmed with eggs cushioned in straw. Heavy buckets of manure hung balanced from poles borne upon their shoulders.
“Down please. Shu-shu shall walk.” Noticing Chen Fa-zhan already heavily laden and reaching out to lift her Shu-shu shook her head and declined.
“Are you certain you can manage alone? You need not walk, you know.” Chen Fa-zhan asked again to be certain.
“Mmm yes yes yes. There is a path. Shu-shu shall walk carefully.” She nodded earnestly. The trail was well trodden and not overly steep. So long as one remained watchful even a little child might descend safely on foot.