LW chapter 2

 

Chen Qing’s mind was completely blank. The only thought remaining was that he had to support his mother. She cared deeply about her dignity and clearly didn’t want others to see her lose control.

He forced himself to stay calm and gripped Aunt Sun’s hand tightly.
“Mother, mother, calm down. Let’s ask about the situation first.”

Aunt Sun clutched Chen Qing’s hand as if her life depended on it. Together, they walked over to the man who had brought the news and seemed to be in charge.

Chen Qing was usually quiet in the village. He had a dull personality and would rather avoid talking to anyone. But today, with his mother on the verge of breaking down, he had no choice but to speak up.

“Excuse me… Meng Tao from Luohe Village—what happened to him?” His voice was a little unsteady, as if he were trembling.

“Oh, I was looking for you.” The clerk held a sheet of paper, made a mark on it, and read aloud.

“Meng Tao of Luohe Village was killed in action at Guping Pass in the twelfth year of Zhaohua. The court grants a pension of ten taels. Which of you will provide the fingerprint?”

The clerk had already pulled a pouch stuffed with ten taels of silver coins from his sleeve. But neither Chen Qing nor Aunt Sun stepped forward to take it.

“Hurry up. I’m busy,” the clerk muttered impatiently. Seeing that they weren’t moving, he reached out to grab Chen Qing’s arm and drag him over. But before he could, someone stopped him.

“I’ll handle this,” Zhou Yuan said with a sigh. He glanced at the two people, who looked completely stunned.

The clerk was happy that someone had taken over the mess. He cursed under his breath and went off to drink tea. Zhou Yuan picked up the pouch, which felt as heavy as a thousand catties, and held it out.

“My condolences.”

Chen Qing didn’t respond. When he looked up and saw the man in front of him, he lowered his head again. Standing beside him, Aunt Sun stared at the money exchanged for her son’s life. She couldn’t hold on any longer and fainted on the spot.

Chen Qing caught her with one arm and took the pouch with his trembling hand. He hoisted her onto his back and followed Zhou Yuan’s instructions to press his fingerprint into the ledger.

With ten taels of silver in one hand and Aunt Sun, who was too grief-stricken to wake, on his back, Chen Qing was surrounded by the sounds of joyful reunions. Only the two of them seemed completely out of place in the noisy crowd.

Zhou Yuan watched their retreating figures—the thin man carrying his mother—and wondered how bitter their future would be.

Then, he turned to the official who had come with them. The scribe had been looking for Zhou Yuan and quickly brought him over to the village head of Luohe.

“Village Head, this is Zhou Yuan. He contributed on the battlefield. Since he has no family back home, the court arranged for him to settle here and granted him a plot of land and five mu of good farmland.”

The village head had known this for some time, so he wasn’t surprised. He had already picked out a plot of land and prepared the farmland; he was just waiting for Zhou Yuan to arrive.

Zhou Yuan thanked him. Not wanting to linger in that heavy atmosphere, he told the official that he was going to town to find a craftsman. After all, he was still staying at a postal station, and the first thing he needed was a proper house.

The bustle of the village didn’t belong to Chen Qing’s little family. Of the ten who left for war, only Meng Tao didn’t come home.

Chen Qing laid his mother on the bed, holding the pension money in his hand. To him, it wasn’t just ten taels of silver; it was his mother’s lifetime of hope.

Realizing that she wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, Chen Qing placed the pouch next to her pillow and returned outside to work. Truthfully, the yard chores had already been finished. He was just repeating the same tasks over and over again, trying to fill the emptiness in his heart.

Everything he knew about Meng Tao came from what others said. Until today, he’d thought of him as solid and real. But in the end, he realized he’d been clinging to a stranger’s shadow.

When he remembered what he’d done today, shame burned through him. When his mother was in so much pain, he had actually…

He couldn’t bear to think about it. He pinched himself hard, dropped the broom, and sat weakly by the doorway. The sun slowly sank in the west. Aunt Sun in the room made no move to wake up. The meal that Chen Qing had prepared grew cold, was warmed up again, and grew cold once more.

When night fell completely, Chen Qing brought in an oil lamp and entered the room.

“Mother.”

The figure on the bed didn’t move. She was exactly as she had been that afternoon.

“Mother, please get up and eat something.”

He set the lamp by the bed, brought in the corn porridge he’d made, and looked at Aunt Sun.

She still didn’t move.

“Mother, we still have to keep living.” He sat down at the bedside. “From now on, we’ll live like we always have…”

Before he could finish, Aunt Sun sat up abruptly. She swiped the bowl from his hands, spilling the porridge on the floor.

Chen Qing knew she was angry; her eyes were empty. He reached for her hand. “Mother, we still have to keep going.”

Aunt Sun couldn’t hold back any longer. She began to cry.
“Why did everyone else come back, but not Taozi[mfn]In Chinese culture, adding -zi (子) at the end of a name can make it sound more casual, intimate, or endearing, especially among friends or family.[/mfn]?”

Why is Heaven so cruel? I lost my husband in middle age, and now I have to send my son off, too!”

“There’s no hope left. Nothing left at all!”

She was no longer composed. She went hysterical, smashing everything within reach. She was unable to vent all her rage and pain. When the house was in ruins, she finally collapsed, sobbing again.

Chen Qing stood quietly by her side.

After a long time, Aunt Sun rose and tidied her hair. She saw the pouch on the bed, picked it up, and took Chen Qing’s hand.

“You never even met Taozi after marrying into this family. You’ve suffered these past five years.”

She poured all the silver from the pouch onto the bed.
“You’re a good child, and you’re still young.” Chen Qing was only sixteen when he was brought here. Now, five years later, he was twenty-one.

“I’ve held you back all these years. This money isn’t much, but with these ten taels of silver, you should be able to find a better place to live, maybe remarry, or start your own business.”

Chen Qing pushed the silver back to her.
“Mother, what are you saying? I married into the Meng family. Are you throwing me out now?”

Aunt Sun looked like she had aged ten years overnight.
“You and Taozi never even met. This marriage doesn’t count.”

Chen Qing shook his head.
“No, Mother. We were married. We have a marriage certificate.”

His words seemed to remind Aunt Sun of something.
“That’s right. There’s the marriage certificate. We have to go to the village head and have it annulled.”

She turned to leave, but Chen Qing held her tightly. Aunt Sun wasn’t thinking clearly. Everything she said and did was about putting her affairs in order. She was still convinced that she needed to make arrangements so that he wouldn’t be left with nothing.

After struggling, Aunt Sun finally lost her strength. She cried, and Chen Qing cried with her.

They cried for their bitter past and the uncertain future.

Once Aunt Sun had calmed down, Chen Qing cleaned up, cooked a simple noodle soup, and steamed an egg custard for her.

Under the dim oil lamp, he quietly watched her eat the porridge and custard. Only then did he feel a little relieved.

That night, he didn’t dare go to sleep. He sat by the door to her room, dozing off repeatedly, afraid she would do something foolish if he wasn’t watching.

At dawn, Aunt Sun got out of bed, opened the door, and saw Chen Qing curled up and sleeping on the threshold. Her heart ached. She squatted down and looked at his face, which still carried traces of youth.

She remembered the day in town when she had come across a human trafficker and first seen Chen Qing. He had such a soft, delicate face, his head hanging so low it almost touched the ground. The people around them had sneered, saying he wasn’t worth even three taels of silver. But she brought him home anyway.

For the last five years, they had depended on each other. A long time ago, she’d come to see Chen Qing as her own child.

Was he sleeping here to guard her, afraid that she would do something foolish at night? If she really died, what would happen to him? He wasn’t from this village, and he was now a widower. How would he survive if she was gone?

She gently touched his head, and Chen Qing suddenly woke up. Startled, he found Aunt Sun crouched next to him.

He tried to get up right away, but his legs had been folded for too long and were numb.

Aunt Sun helped him. “Go rest. I’ll make breakfast.”

“Mother…” Chen Qing looked at her, afraid to let her out of his sight.

Aunt Sun patted his hand; her voice was still choked up.
“Don’t worry about me. Get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll go to the neighboring village and find someone to prepare a funeral banquet. We have to bury Taozi properly.”

Chen Qing nodded and walked back to his room, one hand against the wall. He glanced back every few steps.

But he couldn’t fall asleep at all. He looked around the room. It had once belonged to Meng Tao, and much of it had changed since Chen Qing arrived.

The bamboo curtains he’d woven himself were once a fresh shade of green; now, they were dry and yellow. The bed was spotless, the sheets smooth, showing how carefully it was maintained.

On the right side of the room, there was a large camphor wood wardrobe divided in two. Most of the space was filled with Meng Tao’s clothes and belongings. Only a small corner was left for Chen Qing’s undergarments and winter coats.

At the foot of the bed was a chest that Aunt Sun had prepared for Chen Qing when he got married. Inside were a few of Chen Qing’s everyday clothes and some embroidery. During the winter, when he didn’t have to farm, he would embroider handkerchiefs to sell in town for extra pocket money.

He rubbed his numb legs and watched as Aunt Sun lifted the bamboo curtain and carried in a boiled egg.

Chen Qing’s eyes widened. “Mother, what are you doing?”

Aunt Sun pursed her lips into a smile.
“We’re orphans and widows. There’s no need to scrimp and save anymore. Living well is more important than anything.”

Under her watchful gaze, Chen Qing ate the boiled egg. Aunt Sun took the bowl. “Did you pick out seeds yesterday?”

Chen Qing nodded.

“I’ll plant them in that little plot later,” she said. “You take a nap and come find me when you wake up.”

For a moment, Chen Qing couldn’t react. He hadn’t expected her to pull herself together so quickly. He didn’t dare let her go alone.
“Then… shall we go now?”

Aunt Sun couldn’t persuade him, so she finally agreed. They took baskets and buckets and climbed the mountain together.

As they passed some village houses, they could still hear loud voices inside—men who had returned from war telling their families about the hardships they had survived.

Chen Qing turned to look at Aunt Sun, who only lowered her head and walked faster.

The two of them worked steadily. Soon, they had planted all the seeds. Since it hadn’t rained in days, they carried water from the Luo River up the mountain to water the newly planted fields.

Up on the mountain, they toiled silently. Down below, others were rejoicing.

Zhou Yuan had found a craftsman to help design his new house and was preparing to rebuild soon. The village head hovered nearby, hesitant. Zhou Yuan immediately understood and said he would hire villagers to help, offering food and twenty coins a day.

After they finished discussing everything, Zhou Yuan turned to leave for the town. From a distance, he saw the mother and son from the day before hauling water up the slope.

The young widower was still so small and thin. He walked step by step along the narrow path, carrying water as if it weighed nothing.

Zhou Yuan watched him for a long while. When the figure finally disappeared from view, Zhou Yuan turned away and left the village without looking back.

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