Before dawn had fully broken, the courtyard was already bursting with noise and activity.
Neighboring aunties and elderly women had arrived early to help—picking vegetables, washing dishes, chopping meat, kneading dough. On the temporary clay stoves, huge iron pots boiled furiously, sending up clouds of white steam. The rich aroma of meat mixed with the rising vapor, spreading through the cold autumn air dusted with frost.
Lin Dayong and Lin Eryong became the main labor force, chopping firewood, hauling water, and moving tables and benches nonstop. Old Master Lin paced around the courtyard with his hands behind his back, directing everyone with a broad grin on his face. Old Madam Lin hurried back and forth through the kitchen, loudly assigning tasks to her daughters-in-law.
Lin Sanyong busied himself greeting the endless stream of villagers arriving to celebrate, his voice noticeably louder than usual.
Lin Xiyong, dressed in a blue scholar’s robe that was neither new nor overly worn, sat in the main hall chatting politely with several village elders, his demeanor humble and refined.
Meanwhile, the younger children entertained the visiting kids brought by various aunts and relatives.
Today, Lin Sui’an finally met her eldest uncle for the first time. He looked exactly like her maternal grandfather. She even received a large bag of candy from him. Unfortunately, her younger uncle had gone away escorting goods and had not yet returned.
This morning, her maternal grandfather’s family had also delivered a wild roe deer as a gift, delighting Old Madam Lin so much that she repeatedly exclaimed:
“The in-laws are truly thoughtful!”
Old Madam Lin’s brothers from her maiden family had also arrived. They happened to be the maternal relatives of Eldest Aunt-in-law as well. More than twenty people came altogether, every one of them tall and burly. Tiny, thin Old Madam Lin looked nothing like her brothers.
Their family worked as butchers and owned a meat shop in town that did fairly good business. Early this morning, they had even delivered an entire slaughtered pig, saying that as Lin Xiyong’s maternal uncles, they absolutely could not appear stingy.
Old Master Lin had always been somewhat intimidated by these brothers-in-law. After exchanging only a brief greeting, he quickly escaped back into the courtyard.
“Second Miss Lin is back!” someone suddenly shouted.
At the entrance stood Lin Xiayu, the second daughter of the family, arriving with her husband Tang Guangzhong and their six- or seven-year-old son Tang Jiabao.
Lin Xiayu had married the only son of a tofu shop owner in town. A year after marriage, she gave birth to a son, making her mother-in-law so delighted that she constantly boasted to others that Lin Xiayu was truly blessed.
She resembled Old Madam Lin in appearance. Since she lived comfortably in her husband’s household, she had become fair and pleasantly plump, with rosy glowing cheeks that made her peach blossom eyes especially charming.
Tang Guangzhong, however, limped on one leg.
From Lin Sui’an’s perspective, it looked very much like childhood paralysis caused by poliovirus.
The moment Tang Jiabao entered the courtyard, he shook free from his mother’s hand and ran inside shouting:
“Grandma! Grandpa!”
As more relatives and friends arrived, the courtyard became even livelier. Helpers, gossipers, and curious onlookers packed the entire yard.
Just as the noise reached its peak and the banquet was about to begin—
A hoarse, trembling cry suddenly sounded from the courtyard gate:
“Mother…”
The single word struck like thunder, splitting apart the festive atmosphere.
The flour-covered rag in Old Madam Lin’s hands fell to the ground.
She stared fixedly at the gaunt woman standing at the gate with three girls behind her.
Shock flooded her cloudy eyes first, followed instantly by overwhelming pain and uncontrollable tears.
“Manzhi?! Is… is it really Manzhi?! My child!”
Old Madam Lin burst into heart-wrenching sobs as she stumbled forward and wrapped the skeletal woman tightly in her arms. Her bony fingers dug desperately into her daughter’s thin shoulders.
Twenty years.
A full twenty years.
And now, on this joyous day, her eldest daughter had suddenly returned to this small courtyard carrying the chill of autumn frost—and accompanied by three equally ragged little girls.
Every gaze in the courtyard focused on the mother and daughter embracing and crying at the gate.
The air itself seemed frozen.
Only Old Madam Lin’s grief, suppressed for twenty years and now erupting all at once, and Lin Manzhi’s hoarse, nearly soundless sobs remained.
The village women helping with preparations forgot the work in their hands. The elders inside the hall stopped speaking. Even the children who had been running around stood stunned.
Old Master Lin’s face turned deathly pale.
The veins on the hand gripping the doorframe bulged sharply as he stared at his eldest daughter, now barely recognizable in his wife’s embrace.
In an instant, his memories were dragged back twenty years.
Back then, she had broken off her engagement with Zhang family’s eldest son without his permission.
When she returned on the second day of the New Year with that man, she had stubbornly insisted she truly loved Li Maocai and would definitely live a happy life.
That bastard Li Maocai had also sworn over and over that he would treat her well.
And this was the “happy life” they had promised?
Twenty years had turned a healthy, beautiful young woman into this miserable figure before him.
Her dark blue clothing was patched upon patches, the sleeves worn shiny with age, so faded that its original color could barely be seen. It looked even duller than the weathered mud wall behind her.
Her hair had become dry and yellow, thin enough to be barely held up by a smooth old wooden hairpin. Her forehead and neck were cracked and wrinkled from years of harsh wind and hardship.
Her face bore deep marks of endless labor and malnutrition. Her skin was rough and dark, cheekbones jutting sharply, eye sockets sunken deep. Her lips were dry and bluish-purple.
And those eyes—once bright and full of dreams—were now utterly clouded.
The three girls behind her all had oversized heads atop thin little bodies. Their clothing hung awkwardly from them, clearly ill-fitting. Their shoes were caked with thick, half-dried mud, proof they had walked a very long way to return here.
The appearance of Lin Manzhi and her daughters was like a bucket of icy water poured over the boiling joy of the celebration.
Although they were temporarily settled into the east room where Old Master Lin and Old Madam Lin lived, the atmosphere of the entire courtyard had completely changed.
The villagers helping out exchanged complicated glances full of unspoken understanding.
Inside the kitchen, steam still swirled thickly through the air.
Several women cutting vegetables and tending the fire clustered closely around the stove. Though their hands kept working, their heads leaned together conspiratorially, careful not to let the troubled host family in the main hall overhear them.
“Hey, do any of you actually know Lin Manzhi?” one younger woman asked quietly.
Aunt Cuihua from next door sighed while forcefully chopping cabbage stems.
“She could’ve come back earlier or later, but instead she picked this exact joyous day. Isn’t that deliberately…”
“You can’t say that either,” interrupted Aunt Wang, an older woman deftly peeling garlic. Her expression carried the knowing wisdom of someone who had seen much in life.
“Looking at her condition, she probably truly had nowhere else to go before forcing herself to return. Twenty years without a word… who knows how much suffering she endured out there.”
She lowered her voice even further, a trace of mystery creeping into her tone.
“But honestly… compared to another matter in this village, Manzhi’s situation is merely family shame. It doesn’t even count as a real scandal.”
“Another matter?” Aunt Cuihua immediately perked up, slowing the knife in her hand. “Whose family?”
Aunt Wang glanced around carefully to make sure only the few of them were nearby before whispering:
“Who else could it be? That ‘high and mighty’ Village Chief Wang’s household, of course.”
“The village chief’s family?” Widow Li, who had been tending the fire, leaned over too, forgetting to put down the fire tongs in her hands. “What scandal could his family possibly have? Didn’t his eldest son become a xiucai long ago?”
“I’m not talking about the eldest son.” Aunt Wang curled her lips slightly, unable to hide a trace of disdain and secret excitement.
“It’s something none of you would ever expect…”