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

Chen Dashan was silent for a moment, then placed the bowl on the well platform and stood up. He glanced towards the main room; his father had already gone inside, the curtain still swaying. He nodded, patted the dirt off his trousers, and said in a steady but concerned voice, "That's fine too. Xiaohe and I will hurry up here so Dad can go to the county town to be with Mom sooner. We brothers will do more of the firewood chopping; we won't miss him. Xiaohe, then the chores around the house will be our responsibility. Come help us out when you're finishing up the fruit tree maintenance." Chen Xiaohe swallowed the rice in his bowl and nodded in agreement, "No problem, brother. I'll be finished in two or three days. I can chop firewood with you then and be even faster." The aroma of stew wafted from the kitchen again, mingling with the smoke from the burning firewood, slowly dissipating in the twilight.

----

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, Chen Dashan had already hitched up the oxcart. Six large bamboo baskets were placed on the cart, three filled with apples and three with pears, each basket overflowing. The fruit had been picked out one by one by the family in the yard the previous afternoon; they had to be uniform in size, bright in color, and without a single bruise. Not satisfied, Chen Dashan checked each basket again before setting off, rearranging the top few fruits, covering them with a damp cloth, and tying them securely with rope.

The morning mist hadn't yet dissipated, a vast expanse of white obscuring any figure just a few steps away. The fields on either side of the road still bore the stubble of the autumn harvest, a withered yellow carpet covered in a thick layer of frost. Chen Dashan drove his oxcart slowly along the dirt road. The wheels left deep ruts as they rolled over the frost-covered grass. The dew was heavy, soaking his shoes and trousers, leaving them icy cold. He walked slowly, afraid of damaging the fruit. By the time they reached the county town, the mist had lifted, and the sun rose in the east, its warmth comforting them.

Shopkeeper Sun was tidying the bookshelves in the shop when he saw Chen Dashan arrive. He put down the feather duster he was holding and came out to greet him. He put on his reading glasses, bent over, and inspected each basket one by one. He picked up the fruit from the top, turned it over to check the back, and randomly picked a few from the middle of the basket, wiping them with his hand and examining them against the light for any bruises. The apples were bright red, the pears golden, and each one was plump. He took a bite of an apple; it was crisp and juicy, juice dripping down his chin. He then tasted a pear; it was sweet and had very little residue.

"Excellent, good appearance and taste." Manager Sun nodded in satisfaction, placed the half-eaten apple on the table, took out some silver from the counter, and settled the payment on the spot, not a penny short. He wiped his mouth, poured a cup of tea, and handed it to Chen Dashan, his tone casual but with a hint of seriousness: "Carpenter Chen, has your wife done any new embroidery in the last two months? If so, bring it over for me to see. Whether it suits me or not is another matter, I'll take a look first."

Chen Dashan took the tea, took a sip—it was too hot—blew on it, took another sip, and said he would go back and discuss it with his family, asking them to bring it over for him to see when they had time. After finishing the tea, he put down the bowl, thanked him, and made a special detour to the general store.

Su Xiaoyin was arranging goods behind the counter, while Su Xiaoqing was squatting on the ground placing newly arrived pottery on the shelves. Chen Dashan stood at the door, told him about Manager Sun's inquiry about the embroidery, and added, "Try to go see Manager Sun when you have some free time, when the shop is empty. He's a particular person, so don't go when it's crowded; it'll be difficult to get along with him." Su Xiaoyin nodded in agreement, telling him to go home without worry. After saying this, Chen Dashan didn't even drink some water before hurriedly driving the oxcart back home.

When he got home, the sun was already high in the sky. Father Chen was squatting in the yard bundling firewood; several bundles were already piled up beside him. He had gone up the mountain alone twice that morning to chop firewood, and his old back injury was throbbing slightly, but he didn't complain, only working a little slower than usual. Seeing his eldest son return, he put down the hemp rope, wiped his hands on his trousers, stood up, and rubbed his lower back.

"Is Manager Sun satisfied?" Mr. Chen's voice carried a hint of anticipation.

Chen Dashan tied up the ox, took out some silver from his pocket, and handed it to his father, explaining that Manager Sun had settled the account on the spot. Chen's father took the silver, clutched it in his hand, and looked down at the small pile of loose silver—several pieces, gleaming softly in the sunlight. A smile unconsciously curved his lips. "Give it to him when your mother comes back," he said. He carefully wrapped the silver in a handkerchief, tucked it into his inner pocket, and patted it down. Neither father nor son said anything more. They each drank a bowl of water, then shouldered their tools and headed towards the back of the mountain, one after the other.

Two days later, Chen Xiaohe finally finished the winter protection work on the fruit trees. After the last tree was coated with lime slurry, he stepped back a few paces to look at it. The trunk, from root to waist, was painted snow-white, neat and tidy, like it was wearing a uniform white dress. He tidied up the brush and empty bucket, placed them under the tree roots, and went down the mountain to go home.

As soon as he entered the door, he didn't even have time to drink some water before running to the kitchen door and saying to his father, who was arranging dried vegetables, "Dad, I've finished all the work up in the mountains. Would you like to go to the county town to keep my mother company? She's all alone there, running her stall and taking the kids to and from school, she's spinning like a top. If you go, you can lend her a hand, help her set up her stall in the morning and pack it up in the afternoon, so she can have an easier time." He spoke sincerely, his voice filled with earnestness.

Mr. Chen was packing dried radishes into a basket without looking up or stopping, his voice muffled and stubborn: "We haven't finished chopping firewood yet, and there's so much work to do. How can I leave? The leek roots haven't been dug up, the vegetable garden isn't properly tidied, and the grain in the cellar needs to be turned over again, otherwise it'll get damp. You all go about your business, I'm not in your way."

Chen Dashan emerged from the carpentry workshop, a saw still in his hand, sawdust clinging to the blade. He sat down on the steps, placing the saw beside his feet, and looked at his father, his tone unhurried, each word precise: "Dad, with Xiaohe by my side, we can manage. How long have you been working since the autumn harvest? A month or two without a single day off. In the fields, on the mountain, at home, what chores haven't you done? Do you think you're still a young man?" His voice wasn't loud, but it was firm, tinged with concern. "We can manage the remaining chores at home. You should also go to the county town to help my mother, keep an eye on her, don't let her eat only dry rations and pickled vegetables all the time. Her stomach isn't good to begin with, hard foods cause acid reflux. I'll also take you to see Doctor Li; don't you know how long you've been putting off this back pain? You can't delay any longer."