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

He stood up, dusted off his clothes, and without lingering, left with his empty basket. Chen Dashan saw him off to the courtyard gate, watching Li Hu's figure turn into the alley before turning back.

With spring planting just around the corner, the farm tools spread out in the yard hadn't been completely tidied up yet. Chen Dashan squatted down again and continued sharpening his sickle. The blade slid across the whetstone, making a soft, rustling sound, as if keeping time for spring.

In the evening, Mr. Chen returned from the fields, a hoe on his shoulder and mud on his trousers. He placed the hoe under the eaves, washed his hands, and sat down in the main room. Su Xiaoyin served the food, and the family sat together.

While serving rice, Chen Dashan said, "Dad, Uncle Li Hu came over today. He said he wants me to make doors and windows for two rooms after the spring planting. He wants to build houses on the barren mountain for the farmhands to live in."

Mr. Chen picked up a piece of pickled vegetable with his chopsticks, chewed it, and nodded: "Then let's go to Li Hu's place after the spring planting. It's not easy for him to raise a child alone. The doors and windows don't need to be too fancy, just sturdy."

Chen Xiaohe looked up from his bowl, still chewing on a biscuit, and mumbled, "Dad, I've finished all the work on the fruit trees here. Fertilizing, pruning, and cleaning the orchard—it's all done. When do we start spring planting?"

Mr. Chen put down his chopsticks and wiped his hands on his waist: "I checked the weather here, and spring planting starts the day after tomorrow. The south wind has picked up these past two days, and the ground has thawed completely. If we wait any longer, it might be too late. This afternoon, I took a walk around the bamboo forest and saw that the bamboo shoots have sprouted and are very tender. We need to hurry up and dig up the bamboo shoots these next two days. Once spring planting starts, we'll be busy with fieldwork and won't have time to think about it."

Chen Dashan paused with his chopsticks, looked up and asked, "Dad, are there many bamboo shoots? They dug up a lot of bamboo shoots in that forest last year, will there be any left this year?"

Mr. Chen nodded: "Yes. Although we dug a lot last year, we left the mother bamboo, and the new shoots this year are even denser than last year. The soil around those old bamboo stalks is cracked, and you can dig up a whole bamboo shoot with one stroke of the hoe. Some of them are as thick as a child's arm."

Chen Xiaohe swallowed the flatbread in his mouth, his eyes lighting up: "Dad, then I'll go dig bamboo shoots with my older brother first thing tomorrow morning. Let's dig as many as possible before spring planting and sell them at the shop. Right now, it's the lean season in the county town, so vegetables are expensive, and fresh bamboo shoots will definitely sell well."

Father Chen looked at his eldest son: "Dashan, you go to the bamboo forest with Xiaohe tomorrow morning and dig up as much as you can. I'll go to the fields to check the soil moisture and turn over the manure again." He paused, his tone becoming serious, "The year's plan starts in spring, so spring sowing can't be delayed. If the seeds are sown on time, the seedlings will emerge evenly; otherwise, the autumn harvest will be less. This is a farmer's duty."

Chen Dashan nodded and finished the last mouthful of porridge in his bowl: "Dad, don't worry. We'll go to the fields early the day after tomorrow. Xiaohe and I will dig up the bamboo shoots in half a day tomorrow, so it won't delay anything."

Su Xiaoyin, who was listening nearby, interjected, "The tender bamboo shoots I dig up, I pick out and sell fresh at the shop, and the older ones are dried or pickled. Last year's pickled bamboo shoots were a hit with the kids; they would drink an extra bowl of porridge with them, it was so appetizing."

Su Xiaoqing nodded in agreement: "Sister, stir-fried pork with pickled bamboo shoots is also delicious. Last year, Manager Liu even said that our pickled bamboo shoots tasted really good. This year, we'll pickle a couple more jars, keeping some for our own consumption, giving some to our regular customers, and selling some as well. The cost isn't high, and we have many repeat customers."

Chen's mother put down her bowl, stood up, and cleared the table: "Alright, stop nagging. Get up early tomorrow morning, Xiaohe, go wake your older brother, don't sleep in. I've prepared dry food and water for you, make sure you bring enough, don't go hungry."

Chen Xiaohe chuckled and patted his chest: "Mom, don't worry, I get up earlier than the rooster."

The family dispersed and went back to their rooms.

The moon peeked out from behind the clouds, its gentle light spilling into the courtyard and casting a long shadow of the old locust tree. Chen Dashan lay on the kang (a heated brick bed), gazing at the purlin he had personally erected on the roof beam, his mind racing with plans for tomorrow's work. Digging bamboo shoots had to be done early; the shoots were most tender before the dew dried. Once the sun came out, the tips would sprout, and fewer tender shoots would remain. He was going to the fields the day after tomorrow, but he didn't know how the soil moisture was; the manure hadn't fully dissipated, and the seeds needed to be dried for another half day.

Every single thing weighed on my mind, but they were all things I could manage to keep in mind.

Su Xiaoyin lay down next to him, turned over, pulled the blanket up over him, and muttered, "Go to sleep early, we have to get up early tomorrow."

Chen Dashan tucked the blanket in and closed his eyes. The chirping of insects outside the window came in bursts, as if they were discussing something. The wind rustled through the yard, making the newly sprouted locust leaves whisper. Spring had arrived; the seeds in the ground were waiting, and the bamboo shoots on the mountain were sprouting. Time waits for no one.

----

The next morning, before dawn, Chen Dashan and Chen Xiaohe set off with their baskets on their backs.

The morning fog was thick, a white blur, obscuring any figure just a few steps away. The dog at the village entrance barked twice, then retreated back into its kennel. The two brothers trudged along the damp paddy field ridges, their steps uneven as they made their way to the back of the mountain. Dew soaked their shoes and soaked halfway down their trousers, leaving them icy cold.

"Big brother, do you think we can still get a good spot if we go late today?" Chen Xiaohe walked ahead, his voice muffled in the mist.

Chen Dashan followed behind, carrying a hoe: "Let's go see for ourselves. In previous years, our bamboo forest produced a lot of bamboo shoots; we could dig two baskets in one morning."

When they arrived at the bamboo forest, the mist hadn't yet dissipated. Several people were already squatting on the ground, digging, their figures barely visible. The sounds of hoes digging and bamboo shoots being pried open mingled together. Chen Xiaohe counted; including the two of them, there were already six or seven people.

"Brother, let's hurry up." Chen Xiaohe put down his basket, squatted down, and started looking for bamboo shoots.

Chen Dashan didn't rush into action. He first walked around the bamboo forest, looking for a slope with a lot of bamboo shoots sprouting. This year's spring bamboo shoots came out earlier than in previous years. They were nowhere to be seen before the festival, but as soon as the New Year was over, they sprouted out in a rush, growing a hand's length overnight. He chose a gentle slope that was shady and sunny. The soil on the ground was cracked in several places, and it felt a bit loose when he stepped on it. There must be something good underneath.

"Xiaohe, come over here," Chen Dashan called out.

The two brothers squatted down side by side, each with a small hoe, and dug along the cracks in the soil. The soil was soft, and the tips of the bamboo shoots could be seen with each stroke of the hoe. The bamboo shoots were wrapped in brown husks, fuzzy, and so tender that you could squeeze water out of them. Chen Dashan held the bamboo shoot with one hand and used the hoe to cut off the root with the other. With a gentle lift, a bamboo shoot as thick as an arm was completely pulled out.

"Brother, this one is big enough!" Chen Xiaohe waved the bamboo shoot in front of Chen Dashan.

Chen Dashan glanced at it, nodded, and continued digging.

More and more people were digging for bamboo shoots in the bamboo grove. The villagers knew each other, and they would greet each other every few bamboo stalks. Er Mu's son was also there, squatting not far away, already having dug half a basket. Chen Xiaohe chatted with him for a few minutes, saying that restaurants in town were buying spring bamboo shoots, and they could sell them for fifteen coins a pound, two coins more expensive than last year.

Upon hearing this, Chen Dashan swung his hoe even faster.