LW chapter 7

 

Zhou Yuan had expected the village chief to show up. After thanking Aunt Sun, he set the noodle soup aside. It would have gone cold by the time they finished talking anyway.

“Zhou Yuan, have you eaten?” The village chief eyed him carefully. The blue brick house was already taking shape, though Zhou Yuan was still living in a shed off to the side. The cow he’d bought was tethered nearby in the grass.

“Village Chief.” Zhou Yuan’s tone was calm, neither humble nor arrogant. He didn’t even glance at the two men standing behind the village chief.

“I’ve heard what they said about today. Was there some sort of misunderstanding?”

“There’s no misunderstanding, Village Chief.” Zhou Yuan stood up. “My money didn’t come from thin air. I earned it by cutting off heads on the battlefield, one by one.”

The village chief, Chen Si, and Meng Zhuzi all froze.

“I’ve been watching them work lately. In the morning alone, they’ll pee ten times, poop three times, and stop to drink water a dozen times.” Zhou Yuan’s gaze remained steady. “The wages I’ve paid them are generous. You two should probably see a doctor. This isn’t a minor problem.”

Chen Si and Meng Zhuzi’s faces flushed red. They started to argue, but when Zhou Yuan took a single step forward, they immediately backed down.

The village chief tried to mediate. “Zhou Yuan, I’ve already scolded them for this. Just let them keep working for my sake. We’re all from the same village, after all, and we’ll see each other again soon enough.”

Zhou Yuan looked him straight in the eye and pulled a knife from his side. The blade was so sharpened that it had nicks and grooves along its entire edge. Even at a glance, it carried a murderous aura. “Village Chief, I took this knife onto the battlefield. I used it to behead hundreds of enemies. I risked my life to earn the stable days I have now.”

According to the law, ordinary people weren’t allowed to possess weapons. However, Zhou Yuan had returned as a decorated soldier, and since the knife helped him earn military merit, he was permitted to take it home.

The village chief swallowed hard. “Yes, of course.”

“I came back to Luohe Village because I missed it. I’d like to settle here for a long time. But if things turn ugly, I can use my service record to seek justice at the county office or the prefectural capital. It just might not be so pleasant for anyone else when that happens. Isn’t that right?”

The village chief nodded blankly. “Yes…that’s true.”

Zhou Yuan picked up the now-cold noodle soup. “Village Chief, would you like to stay for dinner?”

The village chief quickly dragged the two men away, declining over his shoulder. Zhou Yuan watched them go and let out a cold snort.

The bowl of noodle soup that Aunt Sun had brought was huge, more like a small basin than a bowl. The noodles weren’t made of refined white flour, but of mixed grains with a coarse texture. The squash had been stir-fried in lard and tasted rich and savory. He could feel the heat and pepper warming him as he drank the broth, and soon he was sweating.

He washed the bowl, led the cow out to graze, and returned home only once the sky had started to darken. He knocked on Aunt Sun’s door with the empty bowl in hand.

To his surprise, however, it was Chen Qing who opened the door this time.

As soon as he saw who it was, Chen Qing dropped his gaze to the floor. Aunt Sun had said she was going for a walk and asked Chen Qing to wait at home.

“I’m here to return the bowl.”

“All right.” Without looking up, Chen Qing took the basin from Zhou Yuan’s hands. Not paying attention, he accidentally brushed his fingers over the back of Zhou Yuan’s hand. He immediately flinched and pulled away. “I’ll get your bucket.”

Zhou Yuan nodded.

Chen Qing set the basin in the kitchen and returned with the bucket, avoiding eye contact.

Zhou Yuan shrugged and left with the bucket slung over his shoulder.

After he left, Aunt Sun returned. She saw Chen Qing standing in the doorway and noticed that the bucket by the water tank was gone. “Did Zhou Yuan come by?”

“Yes, I gave him the bucket,” Chen Qing replied.

There wasn’t much to do in the village at night. Once the water tank was filled, Chen Qing tidied up the yard, herded the chickens, ducks, and geese into their coops, wiped himself down with cold water, and went to bed.

The weather in May was neither too cold nor too hot—just comfortable. Every night, before falling asleep, Chen Qing planned what he would do the next day and then drifted off thinking about it.

The village was small, and whatever happened yesterday was known by everyone today. Word spread that Chen Si and Meng Zhuzi had been kicked out by Zhou Yuan and that the village chief had tried to smooth things over, but Zhou Yuan refused.

In Luohe Village, the village chief’s word was final. No one ever challenged his authority. Even Chen Si and Meng Zhuzi, who had some ties to the chief, usually walked around the village unchallenged. This was the first time anyone had embarrassed him.

“I heard Zhou Yuan pulled out a knife and told the village chief he’d killed plenty of people with it,” said Aunt Liu as she helped Aunt Sun wash vegetables. She was the same woman who had gathered grass with Aunt Sun before. She was talkative and often sharp-tongued, but when something really happened, she was softer-hearted than most.

Aunt Sun raised her eyebrows. “Good. Some people think they can take advantage of an outsider.”

Chen Qing didn’t say anything. He just chopped vegetables nearby. He enjoyed listening to her gossip with the other village women.

“But this house is being built so quickly,” Aunt Liu continued, sounding envious. “It’s already bigger than the village chief’s. Once it’s finished, the matchmakers will be lining up at his door.”

Chen Qing paused for a moment before taking a deep breath and turning the spatula in his hand again.

“Isn’t that only natural?” Aunt Sun’s voice was calm. “A blue brick house, a big yellow cow, no mother-in-law to serve, and a handsome man to boot. Only a lucky ger or woman would get to marry into a family like that.”

Aunt Liu looked a little regretful—her daughter had been married off long ago.

Aunt Sun, on the other hand, seemed unbothered. “That’s someone else’s good fortune.”

Aunt Liu quickly changed the subject, afraid Aunt Sun would start dwelling on sad memories.

Even with two fewer workers, the house was being built faster than before. By the time the hottest part of summer arrived in Luohe Village, Zhou Yuan’s home was nearly finished.

The only things left to do were to set the main beam and lay the roof tiles.

According to village custom, red firecrackers had to be hung from the beam and mixed grains had to be scattered across it for luck when it was raised.

Zhou Yuan’s yard was full of people that day. Even Chen Qing, who hated going out, was dragged along by Aunt Sun to join the festivities.

There wasn’t much work left to do after the beam was set in place. Zhou Yuan didn’t plan to hire any more help; he would finish the rest himself. So, he paid everyone, including Chen Qing’s family, and sent them on their way. He slowly took care of the remaining tasks on his own, and there wasn’t much left to do.

Chen Qing looked at the sturdy brick house with envy.

When the auspicious moment arrived, the firecrackers boomed so loudly that his ears rang. Zhou Yuan stood tall on the beam, holding a basin he had borrowed from Chen Qing’s family.

It was filled with peanuts, dried beans, wrapped candies, copper coins, and bits of red paper.

After the elders finished chanting their blessings, Zhou Yuan—expression as stiff as ever—scattered the contents onto the ground. The excited children clapped and scrambled to grab peanuts—and, if they were lucky, coins or candy.

Aunt Sun bent down, picked up a handful of peanuts, and pressed them into Chen Qing’s hand.

Chen Qing shelled one and ate it. Then, she leaned closer and whispered, “Mother, will people talk about us coming here today?”

After all, they were still in mourning.

Aunt Sun sighed. Chen Qing was good at everything, but he worried too much.

“Didn’t you see that Zhou Yuan doesn’t care? If he did, would he have borrowed our pots and dishes?”

Chen Qing nodded and stopped overthinking it. Still, he felt uneasy with so many people around, so he quietly said goodbye to Aunt Sun and slipped back home.

He sat on the bed with his sewing basket and thought about what kind of handkerchiefs were popular these days. The shopkeeper had mentioned this when Chen Qing went to town.

But how do you express love or affection on a handkerchief?

He thought about it for a while, but he still had no idea, so he gave up. Just then, Aunt Sun called from the doorway, saying that she was going to cut grass for the chickens with Aunt Liu.

Chen Qing agreed. After she left, he noticed that the noise next door still hadn’t died down. Besides the children, quite a few unmarried girls and women were hanging around, all trying to talk to Zhou Yuan.

Chen Qing tilted his head to take a look and felt like the tall figure in the crowd was looking straight at him. His heart skipped a beat, and he quickly turned away and retreated to his room.

The sun was setting. Chen Qing gathered the last of the wild vegetables from the garden. The weather was getting too hot; soon, it wouldn’t be the right season to grow them anymore. Once this meal was gone, he’d have to wait until next year.

People didn’t have much of an appetite in the summer, so he tried to cook lighter dishes.

He had just started boiling water when he heard three soft knocks at the door. He recognized them immediately.

After wiping his damp hands on his clothes and leaving two palm prints, he opened the door and saw Zhou Yuan standing there, holding the basin.

Chen Qing still wouldn’t look at him. He just took the basin.

“Thank you,” Zhou Yuan said in a low voice.

Chen Qing shook his head and lifted his gaze just a little before quickly looking down again. “It’s nothing.”

Then, he closed the door. When he looked down at the basin, he saw that it held a handful of peanuts and beans, two candies, and two copper coins.

He looked up, but could only see Zhou Yuan’s back as he walked away.

Chen Qing placed his hand over the candies wrapped in wax paper. His heart felt tight, filled with something he couldn’t quite name.

When Aunt Sun returned from cutting grass, she saw Chen Qing standing by the doorway, holding the basin. “Ah Qing, what are you doing?”

Chen Qing came out of his daze and showed her the basin. “The neighbor came to return it.”

Aunt Sun glanced inside and nodded. “Zhou Yuan’s a good man.”

Chen Qing didn’t comment. He didn’t know Zhou Yuan well. But Aunt Sun often invited him over for meals and would ask him to tell her stories about camp life—mostly so she could hear something, anything, about Meng Tao.

Zhou Yuan was always patient, racking his brain for stories. Not all of them were about Meng Tao, but Aunt Sun seemed content nonetheless.

Her teeth weren’t good anymore, so she gave all the candy to Chen Qing and shelled some peanuts for herself. She never ate much dinner.

The wild vegetables that Chen Qing had cooked were refreshing, but it was hot, and she couldn’t eat much. He’d long since gotten used to making extra at night. After all, Zhou Yuan sent them plenty of vegetables every day. If they didn’t finish them by lunchtime, Chen Qing would cook them for dinner.

When Aunt Sun saw the stir-fried cabbage and pork and three steamed buns, she knew who they were for.

Chen Qing grew a little flustered, afraid that Aunt Sun would think too much of it. “These were leftovers from lunch, so I—”

“I didn’t say anything. I’ll take them over later.”

Chen Qing sipped his hot water and fell silent.

The summer night slowly settled in. He cracked the window open a little. The evening breeze blew in, easing the heat and stuffiness, and he finally drifted off.

However, Chen Qing was a light sleeper; any small sound could wake him.

That night, he heard a faint rustling.

He opened his eyes.

 

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