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

By noon, the baskets were only about half full. Based on past experience, two baskets should have been full by noon, but this year there were too many people, and the bamboo forest had been searched several times, making it increasingly difficult to find bamboo shoots.

Chen's father was also on the mountain, but he didn't go to the bamboo forest behind the mountain.

He shouldered his hoe and went alone to a small bamboo grove behind the barren mountain. The grove was small, hidden behind a dry stream, in a secluded location that few people knew about. The bamboo grew sparsely, but the shoots that emerged each year were exceptionally plump and tender, probably due to the good soil and water.

Father Chen spent half a day carefully turning over the small bamboo grove. He didn't miss a single sprouting bamboo shoot, digging along the direction of the rhizome without damaging the roots. The bamboo shoots he dug up were plump and reddish, clearly more tender than those from the back hill. He filled a whole basket, so heavy that it bent the carrying pole.

He straightened up, wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, and glanced at the sky; the sun was already setting. He squatted down and tied the opening of his basket tightly with straw rope to prevent the bamboo shoots from being thrown out on the road.

Back home, smoke was still rising from the kitchen chimney, and Su Xiaoyin was preparing lunch. Chen's father placed the basket at the kitchen door and called out, "Xiaoyin, the bamboo shoots are here. These are tender; we'll keep them for ourselves."

Su Xiaoyin peeked out and looked at the basket full of bamboo shoots, exclaiming in surprise, "Dad, you dug so many by yourself? This basket is taller than me!"

Father Chen smiled, went into the kitchen, poured a bowl of water, and drank it in a few gulps: "That bamboo grove is secluded, no one goes there. You pick some out first, put the intact ones aside, peel the broken ones, and we'll stir-fry a plate of them for lunch to try."

He put down the bowl, took an empty basket from the storeroom, shouldered the hoe, and went out the door.

Su Xiaoyin called out, "Dad, dinner's almost ready. Let's eat before we go."

Mr. Chen waved his hand, not stopping his steps: "Dashan and the others haven't returned yet, you can save it for them first. I'll go check the back mountain, lend a hand, and come back as soon as I finish digging."

Su Xiaoyin watched her father-in-law's figure disappear into the alleyway, sighed, and squatted down to start processing the bamboo shoots.

She emptied the bamboo shoots from her basket onto the ground and picked them up one by one. The intact ones were placed in a bamboo basket to be sold at the shop the next day; the ones with cracked roots, damaged by the hoe, or with a small piece eaten by insects were put into another pile to keep for her family to eat.

After picking through most of the basket, she moved a small stool and sat down by the well to begin peeling bamboo shoots. She peeled away the outer layers, revealing the plump, white flesh inside, so tender it seemed you could squeeze water out of it. She soaked the peeled shoots in clean water to remove any bitterness. Damaged shoots were removed, sliced ​​thinly, some pickled with salt to make sour bamboo shoots; the rest were blanched and spread out on bamboo mats to dry. Soon, a patch of golden bamboo shoot slices was drying by the kitchen door, emitting a faint, refreshing fragrance in the sunlight.

It was already afternoon when Chen Dashan and Chen Xiaohe returned.

The two men each carried a large basket on their backs, and several other baskets in their hands, all filled to the brim. Their clothes were covered in mud and bamboo leaves, and dew still clung to their hair, making them look as if they had just been pulled out of the water.

Hearing the sound of the courtyard gate, Su Xiaoyin quickly brought the warm food in the pot to the table: "Why are you back so late? I thought you had fallen into the bamboo forest."

Chen Dashan put down his basket, took the wet towel Su Xiaoyin handed him, and wiped his face: "Today, quite a few people came to the bamboo forest behind the mountain, so we didn't dare to come back. If we had come back for lunch and then went back in the afternoon, we probably wouldn't have been able to pick up any bamboo shoots at all."

Su Xiaoyin served them rice and a bowl of soup each: "Are there so many people digging bamboo shoots this year?"

Chen Xiaohe took a big gulp of water, swallowed it, and gasped for breath: "That's right! The restaurants in town are paying fifteen coins a pound for bamboo shoots, even more than last year. Everyone in the village is rushing up the mountain like crazy, even the lazybones who never work in the fields are carrying hoes. In my brother's and my area, when we came back, even the pits that people had dug and filled in had been dug up, all to find the culprits."

At this moment, Chen's father also returned from the back mountain. His basket was only half full of bamboo shoots, but he had a smile on his face, clearly satisfied with the harvest from that secluded little bamboo grove.

Su Xiaoyin quickly served food to Chen's father, and the family sat down to eat. Chen Dashan took a sip of soup, put down his bowl, and said, "Dad, this afternoon I'll go with you and Xiaohe again. We'll dig some up if we can, and if we can't, we'll pick some wild vegetables. Wild vegetables can still be sold for a while; city people only care about this, so we can't let it run out."

Mr. Chen nodded, ate a few mouthfuls of rice, and mumbled, "Okay. I'll go with you this afternoon. Xiaoyin, please do my best to sort the bamboo shoots carefully. Pick out the good ones and send them to the shop tomorrow. Keep the damaged ones for ourselves. Make a few extra jars of pickled bamboo shoots; last year's amount wasn't enough to go around."

Su Xiaoyin agreed, cleared away the dishes, and then brought out a plate of freshly steamed wild vegetable dumplings from the kitchen, telling them to take them while they were still hot so they could have a snack if they got hungry in the afternoon. The two brothers took the dumplings, wrapped them in oil paper, and stuffed them into their pockets.

As the sun began to set, the father and his two sons went out again. Chen Dashan walked in front, carrying a hoe, Chen Xiaohe followed behind with an empty basket on his back, and their father carried a basket. The three figures stretched long along the village road.

There were hardly any people left in the bamboo grove, only a few birds chirping in the branches. The setting sun filtered through the bamboo leaves, casting dappled light on the ground like scattered gold. Chen Xiaohe found a corner that hadn't been disturbed yet, squatted down, and parted the fallen leaves to reveal several tender bamboo shoots just sprouting. He exclaimed happily, "Big brother, there are more here!"

Chen Dashan went over to take a look. The bamboo shoots were indeed tender, but not very big; they would grow better in a couple more days. He couldn't bear to dig them up and covered them again with fallen leaves. Chen Xiaohe was puzzled. Chen Dashan explained, "Leave some for later. What will we eat next year if we dig them all up?"

Chen Xiaohe thought for a moment, put away his hoe, and followed his older brother deeper into the woods.

The evening breeze carried the scents of earth and grass, and felt pleasant on my face. In the distant fields, some people had already begun spring planting; I could vaguely see a few people bent over, busy in the fields, and the sounds of calling to the livestock drifted over.

When the father and his two sons returned home, it was almost dark. Su Xiaoyin reheated the rice and put it on the table. The kitchen was filled with the salty aroma of bone broth, mixed with the appetizing smell of pickled bamboo shoots.

The family sat around the table, no one saying much, just eating with their heads down. The meal consisted of stir-fried bamboo shoots with cured pork, pickled bamboo shoots mixed with wild vegetables, radish stewed in bone broth, and a dish of pickled vegetables—simple, but satisfying.

Father Chen put down his bowl, wiped his mouth, and said calmly but firmly, "Spring sowing starts tomorrow. The manure in the field hasn't been spread evenly yet, and the seeds need to be dried in the sun again. Dashan, you'll get up early tomorrow morning and come with me to the fields. Xiaohe, you finish up the remaining bamboo grove in the morning, and come over in the afternoon too."