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

After leaving the grocery store, Qingqing suggested they sit at the dessert shop for a while. The two walked a short distance further, then lifted the curtain of "Chen's Dessert Shop," and the copper bell jingled once. The shop was quiet in the afternoon. Zhang Qiuming was behind the counter organizing the accounts, while Zhang Yuming was simmering a pot of red bean paste by the stove, the firewood crackling in the fire. Seeing Qingqing and Yang Wenhu enter, the two quickly put down their work, poured the dessert, and brought it over.

Qingqing sat down at the table by the window, took a couple of sips of sweet water, and pushed a blue cloth bundle in front of Zhang Qiuming, saying, "Sister-in-law, I asked Wenhu to find this at the prefectural school. It contains the latest exam questions and essays from their teacher. You can take it to your elder brother and Aji later so they can practice."

Zhang Qiuming paused for a moment, then opened the bundle. Inside were several pages of paper, the ink clear, the paper flat, the words at the top printed, and the title copied out stroke by stroke. She flipped through it and then handed it to Zhang Yuming. Qingqing then took out two neatly folded red triangular amulets from her sleeve, tied with red thread, and placed them in front of them.

"And this is a peace charm I got from the Guanyin Temple in town. I heard that my older brother and Aji are going out to take the imperial examination, and I thought that safety is the most important thing when traveling. No matter how they do on the exam, I just hope they come back safe and sound." Qingqing's voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear. Zhang Qiuming looked down at the peace charm on the table, gently placed her fingers on it, her throat moved, but she didn't speak. Zhang Yuming stood beside her, her eyes instantly reddening.

Qingqing looked at them, then suddenly remembered something. Her voice softened as she said, "I heard... your parents died on their way to the imperial examinations. They went there alone, and returned in two coffins. So you must make sure they carry this amulet close to their bodies, never letting it out of their sight." Zhang Qiuming looked up, her eyes already red, her lips moving slightly, her voice a little hoarse: "Qingqing, thank you. This amulet... is more precious than anything. We've been worried about it every day, but we didn't know how to ask." Zhang Yuming had already turned away, wiping her face with her sleeve. After a while, she turned back, carefully putting the amulet into her inner pocket, saying she would have them keep it close to their chests, never letting it out of their sight.

Zhang Qiuming carefully put away the scrolls in the bundle, saying she would take them to Shitou later so he could study them carefully. Qingqing sat there, drinking a few more sips of sweet soup. The sweet aroma of red bean paste melted on her tongue. She drank slowly, finishing the soup in her bowl before putting it down. Yang Wenhu stood at the door waiting for her. Twilight filtered through the gap in the curtain, casting a warm yellow light on Qingqing's profile. She slowly stood up, supporting herself on the table, and said, "We'll be going now. Don't see us off; we're busy at the shop." Zhang Qiuming saw her to the door, holding her hand before letting go, watching the mule cart drive away before turning back to the shop.

On the way back, the mule cart moved slowly. Qingqing leaned against the side of the cart, her eyes closed, her hand on her stomach. Yang Wenhu glanced back at her; a faint smile graced her face, as if she were asleep, or perhaps lost in thought. The sun gradually set, turning the crops on both sides of the road golden. A breeze blew from the fields, carrying the scent of wheat and earth, mingled with the thin layer of smoke rising from the distant villages, dissipating in the twilight. Suddenly, on the bumpy mule cart, Qingqing whispered, "Wenhu, I miss home." Yang Wenhu didn't turn around, only replying, "Yes, I'll take you back to see Grandpa and Grandma, and Mom and Dad in a few days," before steer the cart more steadily.

----

The afternoon was unusually quiet. The leaves of the pomegranate tree in the Yang family's courtyard were motionless, and the cicadas chirped intermittently, as if dozing. Qingqing lay on the kang (a heated brick bed) in the inner room, covered with a thin summer quilt. The window was half-open, and a wisp of wind occasionally slipped in, ruffling the stray hairs on her forehead. She was not sleeping soundly, and in her drowsy state, she felt a dry mouth and throat, as if sandpaper had been pressed against it. She opened her eyes; the room was dimly lit, indicating that she had slept for quite some time. She slowly propped herself up and sat up, thinking of going to the table to get some water.

The edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) wasn't high off the ground, and she was used to getting up and down there, but today, for some reason, she tripped when her feet touched the ground. Before she could react, she was already falling forward. In a flash, she instinctively twisted her body and grabbed the bed curtains tightly with both hands. The thin gauze curtains couldn't support her heavy body, pulling her to the side and tearing off half of them with a rip. Qingqing fell to the ground, her knees hitting the blue brick floor with a dull thud. Fortunately, grabbing the bed curtains cushioned the fall, reducing the momentum and preventing her from crashing down completely. But she immediately felt—a violent contraction in her stomach, as if something was pulling down, the pain making her vision go white, and cold sweat instantly soaked her back.

"Mother! Wenhu!" Qingqing's voice trembled, filled with barely suppressed panic, "My stomach hurts!"

Madam Yang was washing diapers again in the yard when she heard Qingqing's cry. She threw the diapers down in the basin and rushed into the house. As soon as she entered, she saw Qingqing half-sitting, half-lying on the ground, her face deathly pale, her forehead covered in cold sweat, her hands tightly clutching her stomach, her lips bitten raw. Madam Yang's heart clenched, but her voice remained steady. She knelt down, supporting Qingqing's shoulders, and asked where she had fallen. Qingqing could no longer speak coherently, gasping for breath in pain. Madam Yang didn't dare move her, and turned to shout loudly into the yard—"Wenhu! Come quick! Qingqing has fallen!"

Wenhu wasn't in the courtyard. Remembering Qingqing saying she felt hot and wanted something cold, he went to the cold rice cake shop at the alley entrance. Just as he reached the courtyard gate with the rice cakes wrapped in oil paper, he heard his mother's call, and the rice cakes fell to the ground with a thud. He rushed into the house and, seeing Qingqing's condition, his legs went weak. Madam Yang patted him, telling him not to stand there, but to quickly carry Qingqing to bed and then fetch the midwife and doctor.

Yang Wenhu bent down and picked Qingqing up, his arms trembling. Qingqing leaned against his chest, too pained to care about anything else, her nails digging into his arm. Yang Wenhu gently placed her on the kang (a heated brick bed), tucked her disheveled hair behind her ears, and said in a tight voice, trying to keep each word steady, "Qingqing, don't worry, it's alright, I'll be right back." He then turned and ran outside. The sound of the gate being kicked open and then slammed shut echoed from the courtyard. His footsteps faded quickly into the distance in the alley, growing lighter and lighter.