Autumn, the seventh year of Jiayou.
The red sun sank behind the western hills, and wisps of cooking smoke rose from the village chimneys.
Zhang Youxi was returning from the fields with a hoe over his shoulder when, before he had even reached home, he heard that his family had found a child.
At first, Zhang Youxi assumed it was another abandoned baby. Abandoned infants were nothing unusual these days. Just last year, his wife’s second elder brother had personally found one on his way into the city—a baby boy, no less. He had taken the child home and cared for him for several days, and as luck would have it, a family willing to adopt him had come along. So he had given the baby to them, which could be counted as a good deed.
The whole affair had nearly fooled Zhang Youxi’s youngest daughter, too. She had actually started believing that little children really were all picked up from the roadside.
Ha!
Zhang Youxi pushed open the gate to his home. His second sister-in-law, Madam Wu, was gathering clothes from the courtyard. When she saw him, she smiled.
“Third Brother-in-law, you’re back. Hurry and have a look. Your Dalang brought home a little girl. She’s so fair and tender—absolutely adorable.”
Zhang Youxi’s eldest daughter, Zhang Layue, emerged from the kitchen carrying a bucket of pig feed. She was thirteen this year, thin as a beanpole, and the heavy bucket swung from side to side between her hands.
Zhang Youxi hurried over, took the bucket from her, and carried it to the pigpen.
“Isn’t your brother home? Call him to carry it. It’s too heavy for you.”
“Dad, you’re back.” Zhang Layue smiled and pointed toward the house. “Big Brother can’t get away.”
Seeing his eldest daughter suppressing a smile, Zhang Youxi wondered what that little rascal Dalang had gotten himself into this time. His eldest son was fifteen, an age that came with no shortage of things for a parent to worry and nag about.
Zhang Youxi pushed open the door to the western side room.
A lamp had already been lit inside, its flame flickering gently. His youngest daughter, Zhang Qiyue, was the first to run over. Tugging excitedly on his clothes, she said, “Dad, look! Big Brother found a little baby!”
“You’re back, Husband.”
His wife, Madam Song, set aside her needlework and rose to pour him some water. At the same time, she gestured with her chin toward their eldest son sitting against the wall.
Zhang Dalang was holding a bundled-up lump in his arms, a distinctly helpless expression on his face.
Zhang Youxi took the bowl and gulped down the water in one go. Only then did he take a proper look at the bundle in his eldest son’s arms.
He could hardly be blamed for not realizing what it was at first glance.
The child was wrapped in an adult’s padded jacket, curled tightly into a ball against Zhang Dalang’s chest. Only after looking carefully could he make out half of a little black-haired head buried against his son.
“How old is she?” Zhang Youxi asked in surprise.
“Looks about three or four,” Madam Song said.
“Three or four?” Zhang Youxi clicked his tongue. “What sort of family could be cruel enough to throw away a child this old? Dalang, where did you find her?”
“On the back mountain,” Zhang Dalang replied. “I went hunting in the mountains today. On my way back, I’d just rounded the northern ridge when I heard her crying. I followed the sound all the way down into the valley before I found her. She was sobbing so hard she could barely catch her breath, and there wasn’t another soul around. I couldn’t just leave her there, so I carried her home.”
“That family has no conscience!” Madam Song cursed. “Even if they couldn’t afford to raise her, people abandoning children usually leave them somewhere crowded, so the poor thing at least has a chance of surviving. Who throws a child into the middle of a deserted mountain?”
“Maybe she wasn’t abandoned on purpose,” Zhang Youxi said. “Could she have gotten lost somehow? They raised her until she was three, after all. People get attached even to a cat or a dog after raising it that long. How could anyone bear to throw away their own child?”
“Who knows?” Madam Song said. “How far could a child this age possibly run by herself? There’s no way she could’ve made it all the way to the back mountain on her own. I’d say there’s a nine-in-ten chance she was abandoned deliberately. There are all kinds of parents in this world.”
Zhang Youxi walked over and gently patted the little bundle. Pitching his voice high in an attempt to sound coaxing and friendly, he asked, “Little one, don’t be afraid. Tell Uncle, what’s your name? Where is your home? Do you know your parents’ names?”
He would have been better off not touching her.
The moment he did, the child burrowed even deeper into Zhang Dalang’s arms. Frightened, she clung tightly to him and refused to let go, practically stuffing her whole head into his armpit.
Zhang Qiyue tugged reproachfully on her father’s sleeve.
“Dad, don’t touch her. She’s scared.”
Madam Song sighed. “It’s no use. We already tried asking. A child this young was probably frightened half to death. She won’t answer anything. She hasn’t said a single word.”
Three or four years old and still unable to speak?
Could she be simple-minded? Or mute?
Was that why someone had been heartless enough to abandon her?
Zhang Youxi’s heart sank, and he voiced the thought aloud. Zhang Dalang immediately took offense.
“She can talk!” he protested. “She wasn’t even like this at first. But when I carried her into the village, everyone kept coming over to ask questions. Then another whole crowd came to see her just now, saying this and that, and some of them even pinched her cheeks. That’s what scared her like this. She talked to me up on the mountain. She even called me ‘Big Brother.’”
“What did she say?” Zhang Youxi immediately asked.
“No idea,” Zhang Dalang replied with perfect confidence. “I couldn’t understand her. She’s so little, and she was bawling so hard that I couldn’t make out what she was saying. ‘Big Brother’ was the only thing I understood.”
“You little brat.” Zhang Youxi laughed helplessly.
He sat down to rest while Madam Song swiftly altered one of her own children’s padded outfits, folding up the sleeves and trouser legs and sewing them shorter.
Beneath the warm yellow glow of the oil lamp, the room was peaceful and cozy.
Zhang Qiyue sat close beside her big brother, gazing curiously at the child in his arms. She reached out, wanting to touch the little girl’s hair, but worried that she might frighten her and did not quite dare.
After feeding the pigs, Zhang Layue came back inside. She handed half a flatbread to Zhang Dalang, then smiled and pointed at the little bundle in his arms before turning around and heading out again to continue working.
Madam Song had her hands full at the moment, so there were more household chores for Zhang Layue to help with.
Zhang Dalang accepted the flatbread with one hand while using the other to gently pry the child off him.
“Are you hungry? Here, have some wheat flatbread. Smell it. Doesn’t it smell good…?”
He had three younger siblings—not even counting his younger cousins—so he knew a thing or two about coaxing children.
After he spoke softly to her for a while, the child slowly poked half of her round little bun-like face out from the jacket.
The little girl’s thick, long eyelashes were clumped together from her tears. Her huge, dark eyes, like black grapes, shimmered wetly in the lamplight.
Her gaze slowly passed over Zhang Qiyue and Madam Song.
Then her eyes met Zhang Youxi’s soot-darkened face, split by a broad grin that showed off a mouthful of gleaming white teeth.
Startled, she immediately whipped her head around and hid again.
Zhang Youxi: “…”
Unable to help himself, Zhang Youxi grinned even wider. Finally, he simply got to his feet and cheerfully left the room.
“Don’t be scared. He’s gone now. Look for yourself if you don’t believe me,” Zhang Qiyue coaxed softly.
She took the flatbread from her brother and carefully held it out to the child.
“Thank you, Big Sister.”
The little girl stared solemnly at Zhang Qiyue with her big black eyes. Her milky baby voice was still nasal from crying. Only after slowly finishing her thanks did she reach out with two small, fair hands to accept the flatbread.
Eight-year-old Zhang Qiyue immediately lit up with delight, waving her hands again and again.
“You’re welcome, you’re welcome! What a good girl. Hurry and eat.”
The child took the flatbread and studied it in her hands before finally bringing it to her mouth.
The wheat flatbread had been made with wheat flour mixed with bean flour. It was thick and chewy, carrying the natural fragrance of grain. The child took a bite, then tilted her head and gripped the bread with both hands, tugging downward with all her might before finally tearing off a mouthful.
The sight was so funny that no one could help smiling.
The coarsely sifted wheat flatbread was certainly chewy, but it was also fragrant and filling. Even ordinary farming families only allowed themselves to eat it a few times during the busiest farming seasons.
“Mom, she can’t bite through it,” Zhang Qiyue said.
“Let her take her time,” Madam Song said with a smile. “She’s little, so she needs softer food. When we eat later, bring her some porridge.”
“Okay.”
Zhang Qiyue fetched a small black ceramic bowl and poured some water into it. Zhang Dalang helped the little girl drink half a bowl.
When she finished, she thanked him in her soft baby voice.
“Thank you, Big Brother.”
She certainly looked hungry, yet she did not eat particularly quickly. The flatbread was difficult for her to chew, so she took tiny bites and ate slowly.
Madam Song, Zhang Dalang, and Zhang Qiyue all found themselves watching her with smiles on their faces.
Eventually, she slowly finished half a wheat flatbread and drank all her water.
Once she had eaten, Zhang Dalang seized the opportunity to put her down.
But the child instinctively grabbed hold of him and refused to let go.
“Big Brother, I want Mommy.”
The child sniffled.
“You want what?” Zhang Dalang turned toward Madam Song. “Mom, listen. What is she asking for?”
Madam Song looked puzzled as well and hurriedly asked, “Mama? What’s ‘mama’? What kind of mama do you want?”
“I want to find Mommy.” The little girl’s mouth turned down aggrievedly. “Big Brother, call Mommy on the phone.”
“What’s a ‘phone’ now?” Madam Song sighed. “Dalang, Qiyue, listen carefully. What in the world is she asking for? Why can’t we understand the way this child talks? Her accent sounds different, too. Maybe she’s from somewhere far away. I don’t even know whether she understands what we’re saying. What are we supposed to do?”
Madam Song lowered her head and bit through the end of the thread. She unfolded the clothes she had finished altering and inspected them, then carried the child over to the bed to change her.
Zhang Dalang seized the opportunity to bolt outside.
The child had been clinging to him all afternoon. He had not even managed to make a trip to the latrine.
After changing the little girl into the altered clothes, Madam Song sat her on the bed and told Qiyue to play with her.
Qiyue smoothed out the bedding, then brought over five smooth, round stones about the size of pigeon eggs. Sitting on the bed, she began teaching the little girl how to play *zhuazi*, a game of tossing and catching stones.
Qiyue’s nimble fingers sent the five stones flying back and forth in a dazzling display.
The child watched with fascination.
Qiyue handed the stones to her and encouraged her to try, and before long, the two children were playing together.
Zhang Youxi appeared at the doorway with his hands clasped behind his back, craning his neck to peek inside. He smiled at the little girl sitting on the bed, then, remembering that his grin seemed to scare her, hurriedly closed his mouth.
“What are we going to do about her?” Zhang Youxi asked quietly.
“How should I know?” Madam Song replied. “Aren’t you supposed to report this to the village head tomorrow? It’d be best if we could find her family, of course. But if we can’t, we’ll have to find somewhere reliable to take her in. Either way, we’ll probably need to ask the village head for help.”
Zhang Youxi nodded.
As for keeping the child and raising her themselves, the thought had never even crossed the couple’s minds.
They already had two sons and two daughters. Besides, they were so poor they could barely keep themselves fed.
Zhang Youxi was a tenant farmer. His family had been tenant farmers in Guojia Village for generations.
And it was not just his family. Nearly everyone in Guojia Village—and even most of the inhabitants of the villages scattered throughout the surrounding countryside—were tenant farmers.
Despite its name, there was not actually a single family surnamed Guo left in Guojia Village.
The village had originally been called Guo Estate and had once belonged to the family of an Empress Guo.
The Beiling Mountains were blessed with beautiful scenery and abundant resources, with dry fields, irrigated paddies, and forested mountainland. The area was close to Yizhou Prefecture, while Bianjing was only four or five hundred *li* away. Naturally, this attracted plenty of wealthy officials and powerful families who purchased estates here.
When rich and powerful households wanted to swallow up a family’s farmland, they had ten thousand ways to do it—and to make the seizure perfectly legal on paper.
In any case, several decades earlier, the nearby mountains and virtually all the farmland within a hundred-*li* radius had ended up as the Guo clan’s private property.
Farmers who lost their land had nowhere else to go and naturally became tenant farmers.
Later, the Guo family committed a serious offense. Their property was confiscated and the clan destroyed, and the estate here was seized by the authorities as well. After changing hands several times, the land was eventually divided into several estates under new owners.
Guo Estate disappeared with it, and the settlement became known as Guojia Village.
The tenant farmers gathered here still had to make a living. All that had really changed was their landlord. They simply continued farming the new owner’s land as tenants.
Zhang Youxi’s household had four generations living under one roof.
Both his parents were alive. He had two brothers, and above them all was an elderly grandmother who was still living.
Altogether, there were seventeen mouths to feed.
The family rented twenty *mu* of land from their landlord. They worked hard, supported one another, and labored throughout the year, yet even then they could barely keep themselves fed and clothed.
Madam Song dressed the child in the heavily patched padded jacket and trousers she had altered for her.
The clothes were now the right length, but there was nothing she could do about their width. They hung ridiculously loose on the little girl, making her look like a clumsy little ball.
Zhang Youxi nearly burst out laughing at the sight.
But the moment the child saw his face, she became even more restrained. She tucked her little hands and feet neatly into place and sat rigidly on the bed, not daring to move.
Madam Song gave her husband a disgusted shove.
“Go on, get out of here. Stop standing around frightening her. Why isn’t Erlang back yet? Go look for him.”
“All right, I’m going.” Zhang Youxi chuckled. “Damn it, what’s so frightening about me? Back in the day, didn’t you marry me because I was so handsome?”
“Pah! Have some shame. There are children here.”
Madam Song laughingly spat at him.