After fleeing the famine, my older sister and I married the brother next door.

The courtyard fell silent for a moment.

Chen Dashan said in a low voice, "Dad, if you really need someone to go, I will. Xiaohe will stay at home; there will be a lot of things to do after the autumn harvest."

"Brother!" Chen Xiaohe immediately objected, "Your legs can't get cold, winter labor is the worst! I'm not going!"

"I'll go." Chen Dashan's tone was calm but left no room for negotiation. "You're too impatient; you'll easily get taken advantage of on the construction site. I've served in the military, after all; I know how to handle errands."

"That won't work either..."

"Alright," Chen's father interrupted his two sons' argument, his voice weary. "Don't panic about things that aren't settled yet. Tomorrow I'll go and ask the village headman again to see if we can pay the money. If it's absolutely necessary to send someone..." He paused, "we'll talk about it then."

Another silence followed.

Chen Xiaohe suddenly muttered, "If only our family could produce a scholar. A scholar is exempt from taxes and corvée labor, and doesn't even have to kneel before the county magistrate. That would truly bring honor to our ancestors."

These were just casual complaints, but they made Chen's father raise his head. He glanced at his youngest son, then looked at the pile of new grain on the threshing ground, and slowly said, "Scholar Gong... that's a matter of good fortune from one's ancestral grave. Do you think Nanshan Village, with its hundred or so households, has produced many scholars in all these years? Only two in total, and both of them opened schools in town and don't come back to the village."

Chen Dashan took over the conversation, his voice not loud, but every word clearly audible to his family: "Father, although it's difficult to become a scholar, we can give it a try."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the threshing ground and landing on his wife and children who were walking in from outside the courtyard gate.

"Our family is doing better now, unlike a few years ago when we couldn't even afford to eat. Shitou, Aji, and Afu, three children." His voice was soft, but it sounded like he was making a long-held wish. "When they're a few years older, we'll send them to school to try. We don't expect them all to pass the imperial examinations, but even if we only send one out, so they can read and write, and know how to do accounting, then they won't be completely clueless about farming, doing business, or dealing with the government."

"If he really has that talent," he looked away and at his father, "if he passes the imperial examination and becomes a scholar, our family's land taxes will be waived, and we won't have to worry about corvée labor every year. That's true long-term stability."

Mr. Chen didn't reply, but slowly lit his pipe and took a puff.

The only sound in the yard was the rustling of wooden rakes scraping through the grains.

After a long while, Mr. Chen hummed in agreement.

"When the children are older, we'll send them to school to try," he said calmly, but it sealed the deal.

---

In the evening, Su Xiaoyin brought the clothes that had been drying all day into the house, folded them, and put them in the kang cabinet.

After the four children had bathed, they were tucked into bed one by one, and soon began to breathe evenly. She sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), mending a worn-out jacket for Chen Dashan by the dim light of the oil lamp, stitch by stitch, dense and meticulous.

Chen Dashan came in from the outer room and sat down beside her. He didn't say anything, but just looked at his wife's profile.

"Dad said today that he wants to send the children to school." Su Xiaoyin didn't look up, her needle darting through the fabric.

"Um."

"That costs money." She paused, her needlework faltering.

"Okay," Chen Dashan responded again, "Save it slowly."

Su Xiaoyin continued sewing. After a long while, she said softly, "Today, I was in the field and saw Shitou squatting there picking beans, one by one, very carefully. I thought to myself, this child might be able to sit still and endure hardship in the future."

Chen Dashan didn't answer, but simply reached out and gently tucked a stray hair behind his wife's ear.

------

"Father! It's decided! We'll be performing corvée labor in three days!"

Chen Xiaohe was covered in sweat from running. He pushed open the courtyard gate, and before he could even stand up straight, his voice boomed into the yard.

Inside the main room, Chen's mother was doing needlework with the Su sisters, Chen's father was dozing against the doorframe, and Chen Dashan, exhausted from the autumn harvest, was sitting on a low stool slowly weaving a bamboo basket. Chen Xiaohe's shout startled everyone, making them look up.

"Speak slowly, speak slowly!" Chen's mother put down her work, got up and poured a bowl of water for her son. "Why are you running so fast? Have some water to catch your breath."

Chen Xiaohe took the bowl and gulped down half of it before wiping his mouth and catching his breath. "Mother," he said, "this time the corvée labor is for repairing the official road, which runs thirty li north of our county town. The village head said we can pay with silver, but..." He paused, his face darkening. "The price has gone up; it's two and a half taels of silver now. The workers will get twenty copper coins a day."

"Two and a half ounces?" Chen's mother frowned. "Wasn't it only two ounces back in the summer? What's wrong with this new magistrate? He raised the price as soon as he took office?"

Father Chen sat up straight, his sleepiness vanishing, and said in a deep voice, "We've already had two periods of forced labor this year, and now it's happening again. The summer labor was for river repairs, and now, just after the autumn harvest, they want to repair the official road. The common people aren't made of iron; how can they withstand this kind of torment?"

Chen Dashan put down the half-finished bamboo basket he was weaving, rubbed his slightly sore knees, and said, "Mother, give me the money. My legs are too weak to do heavy work. Father is old, and if he goes to Xiaohe alone to repair the thirty-mile official road, he'll be exhausted. Our family doesn't need these two and a half taels of silver; it's not worth making him suffer."

Chen's mother nodded without hesitation and got up to walk into the inner room: "I'll get you the money. Old man, you go with Xiaohe to the village head's house and hand over the silver. We won't send anyone, we'll just take the money."

Chen's father picked up the conversation, already standing up and brushing the grass clippings off his clothes: "Come on, Xiaohe, come with me."