“What is going to school? Is it fun?” There was not even a kindergarten in the village, so naturally Shushu had no idea what it meant.
“Going to school means going to a place with children your own age to learn all sorts of things,” Ke Xiaohua explained. “If you study well, you can go to university when you grow up. Then you can get a good job and earn plenty of money. You will be able to buy whatever you like.” She paused, then added honestly. “It is not exactly fun, but going to school is something you simply must do.” Especially you, she finished in her heart.
Shushu could not read minds, yet she sensed something in the way everyone looked at her. “Shushu will go to school!” she declared loudly, lifting both hands high.
“Ha ha. You are still very little,” Ke Xiaohua said gently, much pleased by her eagerness. “You must wait a few years before you are old enough.” The others shared her feeling. Shushu was still too young. She was not even old enough for kindergarten, let alone primary school.
At the mention of kindergarten, Ke Xiaohua had a sudden thought. “What if we started a little kindergarten just for Shushu?” she said. “I have heard it said that children should learn early so they may have a good start in life. Instead of simply taking her here and there to play every day, why not teach her something useful? Or if nothing else, help her develop some interests and skills.” The more she considered it, the more she liked the idea. She began mentally listing all the things she herself might teach the little girl.
Starting a kindergarten was not difficult for them. She remembered that among the villagers reborn alongside them, there was one woman who had been a kindergarten teacher in her former life, and several others who had been primary school teachers. They could invite them all to help, find a suitable place to gather, and there it would be.
“That sounds fine,” one of them said. “I know how to play Chinese chess. I could teach Shushu.”
“And I can teach dancing!” another offered.
“What sort of dancing?” Shouhou asked, looking doubtfully at the ponytailed girl. “I never knew you could dance.”
She rolled her eyes at him, tossed her head proudly, and said. “Group square dancing! In my day I led a whole group of elder sisters and we won first place in the district competition.”
“…Very well,” Shouhou said, holding his tongue under her sharp gaze. “Let her learn it then. It will be good exercise at least.”
“I shall teach Shushu practical self defence,” Chen Dafei said thoughtfully. He had considered what skills he knew that might be most useful, and decided that the ability to protect oneself was of greatest value. “All of you may learn too. One hopes such skills will never be needed, yet it is best to be prepared.”
To his delight, everyone was eager to learn. Their interest stirred, they began suggesting things they could teach one another as well as Shushu. Teaching together and learning together felt far more enjoyable than simply listening to one person.
In the midst of their lively discussion, their baskets were quietly filled to the brim with dry leaves. Shushu could not easily join in the conversation, even though it seemed to be about her. So she simply kept gathering leaves, and as a result her basket was fullest of all, filled with the driest and most suitable ones for burning.
“Wow! Shushu has gathered more than anyone!” Ke Xiaohua leaned over and praised her warmly.
“Sister Xiaohua has gathered plenty too,” Shushu replied happily, returning the compliment.
“Our sweet little one is so clever and kind!” Ke Xiaohua hugged her and stroked her hair. Shushu was already growing used to such affection. She waited patiently until the embrace was over, then said earnestly. “Help Shushu. Too heavy.”
It was indeed a great weight for such small hands to carry. The leaves were piled high and pressed firm within the basket, held only by the rim so they did not spill over. Even dry leaves gathered in such quantity were surprisingly heavy. Shushu had tugged at the handle and found she could not lift it at all.
“Let me help you,” Chen Dafei said at once. He lifted her basket easily in one hand and said. “It is still early. Let us leave these at home, and then we may gather another load before the sun sets.”
Shushu would not let him carry it all alone. She trotted beside him and reached up to help support the other side of the basket, stepping carefully and stumbling a little, yet doing her utmost to lighten his burden.
That day it was Shushu’s turn to stay at Ke Xiaohua’s home. Chen Dafei first carried Shushu’s basket all the way to Ke Xiaohua’s courtyard, then returned to take his own home. Fortunately the houses stood close together, and the children were always running back and forth between one another’s gates. It did not take long at all.
“Here. Pour them all here,” Ke Xiaohua said, leading Shushu to a corner beside the kitchen door. Together they emptied the baskets in a great rustling heap. Then Ke Xiaohua took Shushu by the hand and went to rejoin the others, and the little group set out once more toward the woods.
“And where might all you little ones be off to?” Halfway there, a voice called out to them. It was followed by a scent of heavy perfume that drifted on the warm air.
The children stopped and turned. Walking toward them was a young man, slender and of modest height. He wore a crisp white shirt and black trousers, and his hair was combed neatly backward with hair oil in a formal style. His face was powdered so pale it looked almost white. The weather was hot, and he had plainly walked a long way. Perspiration streamed down his forehead, cutting pale streaks through his powder and revealing the darker skin beneath. His shirt clung damply to his chest, half soaked through. He looked rather dishevelled. It was easy to see that he had taken great pains with his appearance before setting out, yet now every trace of polish had vanished.
“Is that you… Uncle Haisong?” Shouhou asked, peering closely. He recognised him at last. It was his own uncle, a man who had lived his entire life alone and never married.
“Uncle, you look so very fine!” Ke Xiaohua said smoothly. She greeted him as though she saw nothing amiss, her manner perfectly polite and composed.
“Heh. Guess where I have been?” Xiang Haisong said, preening his carefully combed hair with great satisfaction. His face wore an expression so unmistakably bright and hopeful that it was plain to see. Every child except innocent little Shushu understood at once.
“You went to a marriage meeting?” Shouhou asked, looking at his uncle’s bedraggled appearance with some doubt. He could not imagine any young woman being impressed. In their former life, his uncle had been poor, lazy, dark complexioned, and untidy. He had gone to many meetings and none had ever agreed to marry him. He had remained single all his life. In this life, it seemed Xiang Haisong had decided he would rather not be alone forever. He had certainly made an effort to improve himself. Yet surely even with all his efforts, he would still remain alone, Shouhou thought to himself.
To his surprise, Xiang Haisong beamed and announced proudly. “I did! And it went well! She agreed! I shall be alone no longer!” Overjoyed, he reached into his bundle and pulled out a whole roasted chicken, rich and fragrant. He placed it straight into Shushu’s basket. “This is a gift of thanks to our precious Shushu. It is all because of her that I have found my happiness.”
“Ah?” Shushu stared up at him in utter bewilderment. Before she could say a word, Xiang Haisong turned and walked away humming a tune, stepping along with a most peculiar and cheerful stride.
“Brother Dafei,” Shushu called out softly as he disappeared from view. She could not run after him. She looked to Chen Dafei for guidance, remembering what the village chief had taught her about never accepting gifts from strangers.
“It is quite all right. You may keep it,” Shouhou said gently. “My uncle speaks the truth. It is truly thanks to you that things have turned out so well for him.” And he was right. Had Shushu not come among them and brought this second chance at life, Xiang Haisong would never have found the courage or the opportunity to seek a new wife.