When Chen Zhanshan saw Old Man Chen faint, he hurried forward with a face full of worry.
“Father, are you all right? Don’t scare me like that.”
Chen Zhancai shoved him aside angrily. “Get lost — don’t play the hypocrite. If anything happens to my father, I won’t let you off.”
“You unfilial brat, move away,” Old Madam Chen slapped her thigh and scolded loudly. “If you still claim him as your father, then give that worthless girl to Butcher Li — otherwise I disown you.”
Chen Zhanshan’s heart broke completely. With parents who were constantly planning against his child, what was there left to cling to?
“Qing girl, pack up. We’ll move into the cowshed.”
Chen Qingqing smiled and nodded. “Alright — pack your things and let’s go.”
Chen Han held the hen, looking bewildered.“Sis, are we really moving out? Grandma really doesn’t want us anymore?”
“Yes. We’re splitting up — from now on we’ll be two separate families.”
“Why?”
Chen Qingqing thought for a moment and explained with a smile, “Because they want to give me to a bad man. That bad man might beat me, and Grandma would beat me too. Father and mother don’t agree with giving me to that bad man, so Grandma drove us out in a fit of anger.”
Chen Han’s eyes filled with pity. “I don’t want you to be beaten either. If anyone dares to hit you, I’ll fight them.”
“Little Han, if you come live in the cowshed with your sister, will you blame me?”
“Moving out is great. Chen Jiye won’t be able to bully us anymore, and no one will steal our meat.” He licked his lips, unable to hide his excitement. “Sister, we get to eat chicken today. I wonder what chicken tastes like. Chen Jiye always says steamed eggs are smooth and tender and so fragrant and sweet — if eggs are that good, maybe chicken is sweet too?”
“Chicken tastes delicious — the soup is fresh and savory. Tonight we’ll stew the meat.” Chen Qingqing patted his small head. “Now hurry and pack, or someone will be chasing us out again.”
“Okay. I’ll take this chicken to the cowshed first.” Chen Han promised, clutching the hen as he ran toward the cowshed.
Chen Qingqing returned to the old thatched room and, by memory, found the original owner’s belongings: two sets of clothes — one winter set and one autumn set — patched upon patch.
Rather than a real household split, there was nothing left except a few tattered garments for the family.
Chen Qingqing’s eyes darkened.
This wouldn’t do — without pots and bowls they couldn’t even cook tonight.
She headed for the kitchen.
Sun’s wife (Sun-shi) was in the kitchen boiling water. Seeing her come in, she offered a smile. “Qing girl, what are you looking for? Second aunt will help.”
In Chen Qingqing’s memory, this second aunt was greedy but not ill-intentioned.
She and Chen Qingqing’s mother shared the household chores; at least she had never bullied the eldest branch like the third house did.
Chen Qingqing smiled back. “Second aunt, may I borrow some pots and bowls? Otherwise we can’t cook.”
“Take five bowls and five pairs of chopsticks. There’s an old pot here — a bit beat-up, but it’ll do. Take it all.” Sun-shi moved quickly to gather the items.
At that moment Old Madam Chen came in. Seeing the two of them chatting, her face immediately soured.
“What are you two doing?”
“Mother, I’m getting some pots and bowls for Qing girl.”
“Put them down. The family is divided and ties are severed. Anything not written in the separation deed — not a single straw can they take.”
“But without pots and bowls, how will my eldest brother’s family cook?”
“Who’s your eldest brother? That’s their business — none of yours.” Old Madam Chen shot Chen Qingqing a cold look.
Sun-shi’s expression turned sour. “Qing girl, I can’t help you.”
Old Madam Chen was hard as stone — not even a pot and bowls to spare.
She clearly expected them to cave.
“No matter. I’ll manage,” Chen Qingqing said, turning to leave for her own yard.
The cowshed was next to the Chen household, separated by a fence. From one side you could plainly see into the Chen yard, and vice versa.
The cowshed’s mud-brick walls and thatched roof had no front door or windows. It looked so ramshackle that a kick might punch a hole right through the earthen wall.
There had once been an ox here, but a few years back, unable to pay the bride-wealth (or binding fees) for Chen Zhancai, they had sold the cow.
The two cowsheds had since been empty; on rainy days they stored firewood inside.
Fortunately it was hot summer now — otherwise they’d freeze to death in winter.
Inside, dust covered everything and cobwebs hung from the beams.
It was, at least, spacious enough to divide roughly into two sleeping spots, but it would need a thorough cleaning before anyone could live there.
Lin-shi (Madam Lin) looked surprised to see Chen Qingqing enter empty-handed. “Qing girl—your grandmother didn’t give you any pots and bowls?”
There was clearly an old pot and enough bowls in the main house. Had the in-laws really decided to make life difficult for the eldest branch on purpose?
Over the years any spare money the couple had was always spent by the in-laws on the third house’s son who was preparing for exams.
Lin-shi had never complained, thinking family harmony mattered more than petty grievances. Even when the third house had no success in the exams year after year, she bore it silently.
Now it was obvious she had been mistaken — the in-laws had never considered their eldest branch. No amount of servitude would win them even a sliver of sympathy.
This split meant the final severing of ties.
“No,” Chen Qingqing shook her head.
Lin-shi forced a bitter smile. “Qing girl, it’s fine. We’ll get through tonight. Tomorrow your mother will think of something.”
Chen Han pouted in disappointment. “No pots — how will we stew the chicken? In this heat, the chicken will rot by tomorrow.”
Chen Qingqing laughed at her brother’s worry. “You only ever think of meat. Don’t worry — I’ll go borrow some. I don’t believe anyone would rather let a living person die of thirst than lend a pot. Mother, you and Father tidy up the room and I’ll go find the local official.”
Lin-shi said, “Qing girl, try to borrow if you can. If you can’t, don’t trouble anyone — we’ll make do for one night. Tomorrow I’ll visit your maternal family to see if we can borrow some money to buy new utensils.”
“All right.” Chen Qingqing agreed outwardly, but inwardly she was skeptical.
Her maternal family lived in Dahe Village, not far from Nanshan Village — only about ten li.
In the past Lin-shi had often gone back there to borrow money and grain to support the third house’s studies; her aunts had long ago taken a poor view of Lin-shi’s mother for that reason.
There was little chance they would lend again now.