This was the busiest time in the fields. The past two years had been dry, and although irrigation channels had been dug to water the crops, weeds grew even more vigorously, outpacing the crops. Families with fewer hands had no choice but to mobilize everyone to clear the nuisance before it hindered the harvest.
In the past, the Chunmu family had Chunfu and their two sons to help, and they could finish the work in a few days. But now, with one less pair of hands, Li Xiu’e had no choice but to join the labor. Having not worked in the fields for nearly two years, her body had grown soft, and she couldn’t keep up. Chunmu couldn’t stand it, but with so many outsiders around, he couldn’t openly scold her.
Next to them was the plot belonging to Sister Axiang, the most sharp-tongued woman in the village. She was notorious for stirring trouble with her gossip, and in the past, she would never miss a chance to mock Li Xiu’e about her “foolish sister-in-law.” Today, however, she didn’t mention Chunfu. Instead, she spoke in a mocking tone, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear: “Sister, you’ve got it good. Haven’t seen you in the fields for two years. Look at you—your Chunmu must be feeding you all the good stuff, huh? Not like me, skin and bones, toiling under the sun every day, feeding five mouths at home. If only I had a sister-in-law—even an ugly one—I could marry her off and get some income, right?”
Li Xiu’e only realized at the end that Sister Axiang was just being her usual spiteful self, unable to stand others living comfortably. She shot back, “Sister, don’t say that. Some things are just fate. No matter how much you fight for what you don’t have, it won’t come. I’m happy with my life. By the way, did you hear? Big Niu from the next village beat his wife so badly he broke her leg. What a sin.”
Seeing Sister Axiang’s face darken, Li Xiu’e felt even more pleased. Everyone knew Sister Axiang’s husband had a violent temper, notorious in the village for beating and cursing her over the smallest things. But Sister Axiang wasn’t one to take it lying down—she fought back just as fiercely, and somehow, their marriage had survived.
Sister Axiang, having lost the verbal spar, snorted coldly. “That’s because his wife was useless…” She had been about to say that Chunmu was handsome while Li Xiu’e was just a lump of fat, but before she could finish, someone called out from the edge of the field: “Sister Axiang, hurry home! Something’s happened!”
Li Xiu’e spat in the direction Sister Axiang had gone. “Serves her right, that wicked old hag. Heaven’s finally punishing her.”
Chunmu scolded in a low voice, “You haven’t done much work, just running your mouth all day. Hurry up—we’re not leaving until this field is cleared.”
Li Xiu’e looked at the seemingly endless field and resignedly crouched down. How long would this take?
Meanwhile, Sister Axiang returned home to find her in-laws wailing on the ground. Annoyed, she snapped, “What’s all this crying about?”
“A thief broke in! Everything’s turned upside down, and my life savings are gone! That damned thief, how am I supposed to live now?”
Discovering that her mother-in-law had hidden private savings and seeing the house ransacked as if a storm had passed through, Sister Axiang flew into a rage. “If you can’t live, then just go do whatever! At least it’d lighten my burden. Never home, always squatting outside—why don’t you just stay out? What use are you? Must’ve been cursed in my past life to end up in this family, always bullied. And where’s that useless son of mine? I told him to watch the house—what kind of watching is this? How are we supposed to live like this?” After her tirade, she collapsed to the ground and wailed.
Though the villagers disliked her, they pitied her misfortune and helped clean up while offering comfort. Harsh women were common in the village—some even openly wished their elderly in-laws would die—so no one was particularly shocked. What worried them more was that a thief had actually struck. From now on, someone would have to stay home to guard the house. No one had seen the thief’s face, but since Sister Axiang’s gate had been locked, he must have climbed over the wall.
After dinner, Jicheng drew water from the well to wash the dishes. Chunfu gathered the laundry into a wooden basin, planning to wash them at the river behind the house. Jicheng called out to stop her: “Wait, I’ll go with you in a bit.” At this time of year, snakes might be out, and he didn’t want her to face them alone.
Chunfu agreed and crouched beside him, watching him wash the dishes as he chided her like a fussy elder: “Leave those chores for me. If you’ve got free time, go rest. It’s getting hotter.”
Chunfu pouted, tilting her head to glare at him. “If I leave everything to you, what’ll I do? Even the strongest can’t work forever. I care about my man. And if I turn lazy and ignorant, people will talk.”
His ears reddened with pleasure. He’d noticed Chunfu had grown sharper with her words, saying things that should embarrass her without hesitation—yet he found himself liking it. He glared back playfully. “Fine, you’ve got a point. But no heavy work. Wait for me, got it?”
“What are you two lovebirds whispering about? There’s been a thief in the village—ransacked Sister Axiang’s place. No one knows who it was. We’ve got to be careful now. Chunfu, don’t wander off alone—once was enough. Anyway, I’ve got to cook.” Sister Liansheng, passing by the Ji family’s yard, couldn’t resist commenting when she saw them huddled close.
Jicheng handed the clean dishes to Chunfu to put away, frowning. “Sounds like a repeat offender. Might strike again.”
Sister Liansheng nodded. “Exactly. We’ve all got to be alert. Kids are hungry—gotta cook.” With that, she left.
Chunfu emerged from the house, also frowning. “You don’t think it’s Second Uncle, do you? Desperation might’ve driven him to this.”
Jicheng considered it but shook his head. “No, Second Uncle’s too proud to steal from others. Even when he came to us, he used Jiliang as an excuse—made it sound almost reasonable. Still, we’d better be careful.” He picked up the basin and headed toward the river, Chunfu following behind, lips curled in amusement.
The grass and wildflowers along the riverbank flourished. Chunfu knelt on a flat stone to wash clothes while Jicheng leaned against a tree a few steps away, watching her. The nape of her neck, pale and delicate, peeked out as strands of hair swayed with her movements. The water was cool now, but when winter came, he’d take over—his rough skin could handle anything.
In the afternoon, with the sun milder and a breeze blowing, Jicheng climbed a stool to pick the best silk tree flowers, dropping them into a basket. Chunfu had already unpicked the pillowcases, washed them, and laid them out to dry. Filling them with the flowers would be perfect. The fading sunlight cast golden streaks over the vegetable patch, where chicks and a puppy played—still small enough to get along.
Early the next morning, they headed up the mountain, dew dampening their clothes. Chunfu was surprised by how often Jicheng now showed affection—holding her hand as they slept, now gripping it as if afraid she’d get lost.
It was still early, so they ventured deeper into the woods, filling a basket. Jicheng frowned. “Why so much? We can’t eat it all. Selling it? There’s a market in town soon—I’ll take it.”
Chunfu shook her head. “I’ve got other plans. We should come here often—it’s cool, and there’s so much good stuff.” She’d spotted wild grapevines; by autumn, they’d bear clusters of dark purple grapes, perfect for snacking.
Jicheng indulged her, as long as it made her happy. After a pause, he said, “After the fieldwork, I’ll look for work in town. Can’t stay idle forever.”
Chunfu’s heart clenched. Maybe it was newlywed attachment, but she didn’t want him to leave. She stayed silent until they reached a small stream branching from the lake, where fish darted beneath the surface. Her eyes followed them as Jicheng rolled up his pants and waded in. He bent, snatched one up, and laughed as water splashed his face. “I’m no good at this. Too fishy, not tasty.”
His boyish grin made her laugh. “Never mind, we’ll make soup. Why does no one come here? Such a waste.”
“You think many dare? A few years back, this mountain was lively—until Sister Axiang’s brother was fishing and a startled boar charged him into the lake. Everyone was too scared to help, just watched him drown. After that, folks called the mountain cursed. Better to eat poorly than die here.” He strung the fish on grass rope, speaking casually, as if village tragedies meant nothing to him.
Gathering more fruit, they headed back, Chunfu looping her arm through his. “If we keep coming, we can live well off what others ignore.”
Jicheng thought she just wanted better meals, not realizing her ambitions ran deeper. Back home, he followed her instructions, sweeping the sunniest spot and laying out a wide plank to dry the fresh mushrooms. Under the strong sun, they’d be ready in a day or two.
Watching her bustle about, a constant smile on her lips, Jicheng felt content. This simple life was truly satisfying.
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