Chapter 72: Let Go

Zhang Tieshuai grinned foolishly: “Since I can remember, my parents have been gone. Because I was slow-witted from childhood, no one wanted to take me in, so I lived alone. Even I don’t know when I learned all the necessary skills.”

“Circumstances forced me, what else could it be?” But Lin Fang didn’t believe Zhang Tieshuai was truly slow-witted. “More like ‘still waters run deep,'” she thought. Her aunt had a sharp eye, choosing someone like Zhang Tieshuai as a husband—not seeking great wealth, but valuing harmony and happiness.

Following the smell of meat into the kitchen, Lin Fang burst out laughing. There was someone even greedier than her—Li Yinwei, sitting on a small wooden stool, leaning against Li Cuilan, who was tending the fire, fast asleep. In her dreams, her lips smacked occasionally, completely overturning her usual composed demeanor.

Bored, Lin Fang decided to play a prank. She deliberately asked Li Cuimei, “Mother, are white rabbits’ eyes red?”

“Yes, as red as blood.”

“Fang’er heard that if a girl eats white rabbit meat, her eyes will turn red too, just like a rabbit’s.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“I don’t remember. Maybe from passersby chatting.”

Actually, it was an old wives’ tale from her childhood. Her second brother didn’t believe it but teased her with it. Back then, she was so scared she refused to eat rabbit meat until her mother ate some to prove it was harmless.

“That’s nonsense. I’ve eaten plenty of game since childhood, and my eyes never turned red.”

“But Fang’er heard it only happens to girls aged eight to twelve.”

Li Yinwei suddenly sat up straight. “Fang’er, is that true?”

Lin Fang nodded solemnly. “Yes, that’s what Fang’er heard.”

Li Yinwei panicked. “Oh no! What should I do? The two rabbits are mixed together—how can I tell them apart?”

“Giggle, giggle, giggle!” Seeing Li Yinwei fall for it so easily, Lin Fang burst into laughter.

“Haha! Hahaha!” Li Cuilan and Li Cuimei couldn’t help but join in. Li Yinwei, just awakened, still had bloodshot eyes that looked even redder in the firelight, resembling a rabbit’s red eyes.

Realizing she’d been tricked, Li Yinwei got up and tickled Lin Fang, and the two tumbled into a playful scuffle.

The next day, Zhang Tieshuai didn’t go to town to buy meat. Instead, Lin Fang dragged him to the river to play—catching fish, trapping shrimp, digging for clams, pinching crabs, fishing for eels, and blocking loaches. They had so much fun they even found a nest of wild duck eggs nearby. Of course, Lin Fang didn’t forget to bring Li Yinwei along.

Though the river wasn’t deep, the clams were surprisingly large—some as big as Zhang Tieshuai’s palm. Lin Fang, in high spirits, picked up a clam and placed it on a flat part of the riverbank, spinning it like a top. She challenged Li Yinwei to a contest to see whose clam spun longer and faster. In the end, she lost spectacularly.

By the time the two were covered in mud, the sun was almost directly overhead. Zhang Tieshuai carried a string of small fish baskets, while Li Yinwei held Lin Fang’s hand. The trio laughed and joked all the way home.

“Mother! Fang’er’s back! Uncle said he’s making something delicious today!”

“Shh—Fang’er, keep your voice down. Your mother hasn’t woken up yet.”

As soon as they entered the courtyard, Lin Fang shouted excitedly. Li Cuilan hurried out, waving her hand to hush her.

Huh? Lin Fang was puzzled. Her mother usually woke at dawn—why was she still asleep now, nearing noon? Worried, she frowned and asked Li Cuilan, “Auntie, is Mother unwell?”

Li Cuilan shook her head. “Your mother was exhausted. Today, she finally relaxed and slept in. Don’t disturb her—let her wake naturally. Understand?”

“Yes, Fang’er understands.”

Lin Fang’s heart ached. Her mother managed the entire household, the cloth shop, the tailoring workshop, the knitting mill, and the grain store, all while assisting her father with his business. No matter how busy, she never neglected the education of her seven children—plus her aunt’s seven! Social obligations also demanded careful attention. Here at her aunt’s, her mother, over a decade younger than her aunt but treated like a daughter, could finally relax completely. It was no wonder she slept so deeply.

“If only Fang’er could take some of Mother’s burdens, she wouldn’t be so tired. Auntie, is Fang’er useless?”

“Oh, Fang’er, why bring this up again? You’re still young—who knows what the future holds? But if you keep thinking you’re useless, not only you but everyone around you will be unhappy. Look at me—I’m not as learned as your mother, not as skilled as your second uncle, not as good at household management as Aunt Hong, and not as adept at farming as your uncle. If you really think about it, I’m practically worthless. So what? Should I spend my days sulking? If I did, Fang’er, would there be any joy in my life? Would the people around me have any happiness?”

“Fang’er, your uncle found new life because of me,” Zhang Tieshuai chimed in. “Your mother can sleep soundly here because of your aunt. No one is useless. When you were unconscious for three days, do you know how your mother lived? If you hadn’t woken up, what would your parents have done? Being exceptional isn’t what makes someone useful—understand?”

What would her parents have done if she hadn’t woken after three days? The thought struck Lin Fang like a bolt. She didn’t dare dwell on it. What was wrong with her? She’d been reborn, vowing never to make her mother worry again—why was she stuck in this spiral? Whatever the future held, whether she was useless or not, as long as she lived happily, she was useful.

With that realization, Lin Fang smiled. “Auntie, they say Uncle isn’t much of a talker, but Fang’er thinks he speaks very well. There’s a saying—’Don’t judge a book by its cover’—does it mean people like Uncle?”

Li Cuilan laughed. “Haha! I was just worried about you, and now you’re teasing your uncle? Careful, or there’ll be no delicious food for you.”

“How could that be?” Lin Fang looked utterly confident. “Uncle is a real man. A real man’s word is his bond—he wouldn’t cheat a little girl.”

Seeing Lin Fang’s shameless antics, Li Cuilan relaxed and joked with her a bit more. Lin Fang and Li Yinwei followed Zhang Tieshuai to handle the pile of aquatic creatures—or rather, watched him handle them while Li Yinwei helped as much as she could, and Lin Fang drooled on the sidelines.

“Awake?”

“I woke up when Fang’er came in. Thank you, Elder Sister.”

“Why thank me? Even an eighty-year-old can get stuck in a rut, let alone a five-year-old. Thankfully, Fang’er is clever—it didn’t take much to set her straight.”

“Her cleverness is what worries me. I’d rather she were like any other child, only caring about play.”

“Count your blessings. If you hadn’t been so clever as a child, would Mother have been able to act like a carefree girl?”

As the sisters chatted and laughed, three heads huddled together in the kitchen, staring at a freshly opened giant clam. Inside were three oddly shaped pearls. This was the very clam Lin Fang had spun like a top in her contest with Li Yinwei. Zhang Tieshuai picked out the three pearls, rinsed them, and placed them in a small bowl.

All three pearls resembled human figures—one large and two small. The largest was the size of the tip joint of Zhang Tieshuai’s little finger, black-purple and lustrous, shaped like a kneeling figure. The two smaller ones were the size of Lin Fang’s fingertip, pink and delicate, with arms crossed over their chests as if in fear.

“Uncle, have you ever seen pearls like these?”

“No.”

“Uncle, how do pearls grow like this?”

“Don’t know.”

“Amitabha.”

Just as the three were engrossed in their examination, a Buddhist chant sounded in the courtyard. Lin Fang recognized the voice instantly and rushed out in delight. “Old Monk! What brings you here? Did you smell the delicious food?”

“Sixth Young Miss, this old monk heard you obtained three pearls and came to see them.” Hmm? Why so serious?

Hearing this, Li Cuimei and Li Cuilan came out to greet him. “Master Huiyuan, how have you been?”

“Cuimei, how could you take Fang’er away so suddenly? Now this old monk is all alone with no one to discuss Buddhist teachings with.”

His earlier solemnity vanished instantly, replaced by the pitiful look of a abandoned puppy. Lin Fang burst out laughing. “Old Monk, don’t act so pitiful. Later, Auntie is making fried dough twists—today, you can eat until you’re stuffed. Just don’t choke in your eagerness.”

“Cough, cough, cough.”

Behind her, Zhang Tieshuai coughed inexplicably, while Li Cuilan shook her head in resignation.

“Haha! I won’t miss out on good food. But first, show me the pearls.” Huiyuan resumed his dignified demeanor.

Zhang Tieshuai brought out the small bowl. Huiyuan gave the pearls only a quick glance before swiftly tucking them into his cloth pouch.

Lin Fang was frantic. “Hey! Old Monk, stealing a child’s toys is no act of a gentleman!”

Li Cuimei scolded, “Fang’er, mind your manners!”

“Amitabha, Sixth Young Miss. These pearls are unusual. This old monk will study them for a few days and return them.”

Knowing Huiyuan well, Lin Fang could usually tell when he was joking or serious. Seeing his earnestness now, she nodded in agreement.

Curious, Li Yinwei begged Zhang Tieshuai to open the clam she’d played with. Inside was a pearl as big as his thumb, entirely black. Huiyuan, worldly-wise, cautioned Li Yinwei solemnly: this pearl was precious and must never be shown unless absolutely necessary, lest it invite disaster. Li Yinwei took the warning to heart.

The remaining clams also held pearls, though small and ordinary. These were left for Li Cuilan to string into bracelets or necklaces—both decorative and healthful.

For lunch, they had fried dough twists. Making them was labor-intensive—Li Cuilan had started preparing early that morning, and it was now noon before everything was ready for frying. Over the years, Zhang Tieshuai had learned to work seamlessly with his wife, mastering both the technique and the timing.

The twists resembled braided ropes or coiled hair, thin as noodles. Flour was mixed with water, sesame, and salt, kneaded repeatedly, and left to rest. The dough was rolled into progressively thinner strands, each layer brushed with oil and rested again before frying. The strands were coiled around the hands, stretched, and fried until golden.

The twists were crispy and fragrant. As usual, Huiyuan and Lin Fang competed to eat them, their faces shiny with grease. Li Yinwei stared in astonishment until Li Cuimei teased, “If you don’t eat now, there’ll be nothing left!” Only then did Li Yinwei snap out of it and join the fray, much to the amusement of the others.

In the following days, Huiyuan stayed at Li Cuilan’s home, leading Lin Fang and Li Yinwei on wild adventures through the hills. Li Yinwei forgot her original purpose for coming and no longer mentioned learning farming—her days were filled with play.

After ten days, Li Cuimei, anxious about her husband, sons, and household affairs, discussed returning home with her sister. Huiyuan decided to accompany them, but Li Yinwei insisted on staying.

That night, Lin Fang had a strange dream. In it, her husband’s grandfather, an eighty-year-old man, stood before her portrait, murmuring to himself.