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

On the tenth day of the autumn harvest, the last corn from the field was finally brought back to the threshing ground.

This year's autumn harvest was much faster than in previous years. Father Chen hired two more people, and the five hired laborers lined up in the field, their sickles flashing, felling the corn stalks in unison. The golden ears of corn were snapped off and tossed into baskets, which were then carried to the oxcart at the edge of the field. Chen Dashan and Chen Xiaohe worked alongside them, and Father Chen wasn't idle either. Despite his advanced age, his movements as he bent over to cut corn were almost as fast as a young person's. However, every day after work, he had to massage his back for a while before he could straighten it. Su Xiaoyin and Su Xiaoqing took on all the work at home and in the threshing ground: cooking, delivering meals, feeding the livestock, drying the grain, and also finding time to look after their four children. They prepared a variety of meals every day, stewing bone broth every other day, making braised pork every few days, and thinly sliced ​​braised pig's head meat arranged on plates, so that those who had worked could enjoy a hot meal when they returned home. All five employees said that the food was good when they worked at his house, and they ate until they were full, so they worked hard without holding back.

In ten days, all the grain was harvested.

As evening fell, the last cartload of corn was unloaded on the threshing floor. Father Chen stood by the edge of the yard, looking at the small mountain of corn cobs, and let out a long sigh of relief. The setting sun cast a long shadow over him; his back was slightly hunched, but his posture was still strong. He turned to look at his two sons, who were tidying up the farm tools, a smile on his face—the kind of contentment and satisfaction unique to farmers, the kind that only appears when looking at a full granary.

Su Xiaoyin was busy preparing dinner in the kitchen, her spatula flying as the fire in the stove blazed brightly, making her face glow. Su Xiaoqing squatted in front of the stove adding firewood, occasionally standing up to glance at the food in the pot. Children chased and played in the yard, their laughter ringing out. Qingqing had returned from the county town and was playing cat's cradle with Aji and Afu in the yard. Afu kept making mistakes, stamping his feet in frustration.

After dinner, the family sat in the courtyard to cool off. The moon hadn't risen yet, and a faint red glow lingered on the horizon. The evening breeze carried the unique scent of harvested crops, a mixture of earth and straw. The children chased fireflies in the yard, their laughter echoing far and wide. Father Chen finished the last mouthful of porridge in his bowl, wiped his mouth, and began to assign tasks.

"The grain has been harvested, but it still needs to be dried. Xiaohe, when will we pick the fruit from the fruit trees on the mountain?" He leaned back in his chair, holding a palm-leaf fan in his hand, fanning himself idly.

Chen Xiaohe was squatting by the well washing dishes when he heard his father's words. He looked up, thought for a moment, and water dripped from between his fingers: "We can pick them in the next few days. The peaches are already ripe; if we don't pick them soon, they'll fall to the ground. The apples and pears can wait a few more days, but they'll be ready soon too. Dad, shall we pick them now?"

Father Chen nodded, his tone unhurried but with the unwavering certainty characteristic of a farmer: "Pick them and put them in the cellar to sell slowly. I've already told the people I hired this year that I'll hire them to pick fruit on the mountain as well, and their wages will be the same as during the autumn harvest: twenty coins a day, plus one meal. Tomorrow, Xiaohe, I'll go with you and the others to pick fruit on the mountain. Dashan, you stay home and dry the grain. Put the grain that's dried into the granary or the cellar that's ready."

Chen Dashan nodded, knowing his father and brother were worried about him and afraid his leg would swell up again. He didn't refuse, simply replying, "Okay, Dad, I'll be home tomorrow." Su Xiaoyin saw this and felt a warmth in her heart. She didn't say anything, but her hands didn't stop working.

Su Xiaoyin brought out a basin of washed wild fruit from the kitchen and placed it on the stone table for everyone to try. The purplish-red wild grapes, sweet and sour, were picked by Chen Xiaohe from the mountain yesterday. The children immediately crowded around and scrambled to eat them. Shitou grabbed a handful, Qingqing only picked a few, and Aji and Afu happily ate them one by one. She sat down and asked, "Dad, after picking the fruit, like last year, will we take the good ones to the county town to sell, and make the rest into preserves? Last year's preserves sold quite well; several regular customers came specifically to ask if we had any left."

Mr. Chen didn't answer immediately. He turned to his youngest son, his tone scrutinizing: "Did you do the math last year? Was it worthwhile to make it into candied fruit and sell it? The accounts need to be clear; we can't let our efforts go to waste."

Chen Xiaohe walked over from the well, sat down on a stool, wiped his hands on his trouser leg, and began to calculate seriously on his fingers: "I've done a rough calculation, and it's suitable. The fruits used for making candied fruit are all damaged, bruised, and don't keep well. They won't fetch a good price, and if left unprocessed, they'll rot in a few days and won't be worth a penny. Processing them into candied fruit can sell for more than ten coins per pound. Although it takes some effort and sugar, we buy the sugar directly from the county town. We buy in bulk, so it's much cheaper than buying in small quantities. In the end, it's still worthwhile." He paused, then added, "Moreover, candied fruit can be stored for a long time. We can sell it slowly in winter, and we won't have to worry about sales."

Chen Dashan walked over from the carpentry workshop, holding a newly repaired plank in his hand. After listening to his younger brother's words, he took over, his voice steady and strong: "This year, we'll be more careful when selecting the fruit, dividing it into different grades. The best ones will be taken to the general store to sell—large, brightly colored, and without any dents or damage—customers will like them at first glance. Then we'll give some to Manager Liu and Shopkeeper Sun; they're our regular customers, so we'll maintain our relationship. They've always been very supportive of our family." He paused, leaning the plank against the wall. "The rest will be taken to the market, where Mother can set up a stall and sell them at a lower price; we won't have to worry about finding buyers. The last few will be made into dried fruit—nothing will go to waste."

After listening to his two sons, Mr. Chen placed his palm-leaf fan on his lap, crossed his hands over his stomach, and nodded with satisfaction. He didn't say much, just patted his knees, stood up, and said with a restrained tone, "Alright, we'll do it your way. This year, we'll all pick the fruit together. With more eyes, we can sort it more carefully. The good ones will fetch a higher price, and even the cheaper ones will turn into money, which is better than letting them rot in the ground." He looked at the sky; the moon had already peeked out from behind the clouds, its clear light shining into the courtyard, casting a short, solid shadow. "Alright, go back and get some sleep. After this busy period, we'll have a good family meal. Everyone's exhausted; we need to treat them."

The family members responded and got up one after another.

Su Xiaoyin stood up, cleared the table of dishes, and took them to the kitchen. Su Xiaoqing followed behind, fetched hot water, and prepared to wash the children. Chen Dashan turned off the light in the carpentry workshop, locked the door, and walked with Chen Xiaohe to the backyard to check the cowshed and pigsty. Chen's father stood in the yard, watching the whole family busy with their own tasks, feeling at ease.

The moon rose, its gentle light bathing the courtyard. The fire in the stove had died down, but its warmth lingered. Tomorrow would bring its own work—picking fruit, drying grain, sorting produce, preparing goods. Life was mundane, but fulfilling and hopeful.