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

In his first year of farming alone, Ah Fu's land was still somewhat barren.

The land was fertile, but taking it from his father and uncle was a completely different matter from tending it himself. The depth the plow went into the soil, the amount of manure spread, the depth the seeds were buried—everything had its intricacies, and you couldn't learn it just by watching. Afu knew he wasn't very skilled, so he went to the fields before dawn and didn't return until after dark. Carrying his hoe, he walked along the field ridges, his pace much slower than before spring planting, his shoulders slumped, as if the work in the fields had stripped away a layer of flesh from him. Chen Dashan and Chen Xiaohe supervised him, offering reminders when he sowed too quickly, and standing behind him when he thinned the seedlings too densely, pulling out a few more seedlings without saying much, only instructing him, "Keep the strong ones, remove the weak ones." Afu listened, squatted down, pulled out the remaining seedlings, looked down at the soil in his hands, then looked up at the unfinished furrows ahead, said nothing, and bent down to continue working.

After a spring planting season, Afu had lost several pounds. His cheekbones had become prominent, and his chin had become pointed. His clothes hung loosely on him, like they were on a hanger. Zhao Qinghuan was heartbroken. Every day, after finishing her work at the grocery store, she would rush home. Even when she got home, she wouldn't rest but would squat by the kitchen door studying recipes. Her family's herbal medicine shop was nearby, and Zhao Qinghuan would go back every few days to get some goji berries, astragalus, and codonopsis. She would then make different kinds of soup for Afu to nourish his body—one day it would be chicken stewed with red dates and goji berries, the next day it would be pork rib soup with codonopsis and astragalus, and the day after that it would be mutton stewed with angelica and ginger. The kitchen was filled with the aroma of medicinal dishes from morning till night, one pot after another, never repeating the same dish. When Afu came home, he was made to drink soup by the kitchen door. He said he couldn't drink anymore, but Zhao Qinghuan shoved the bowl into his hands and said that if he didn't finish it, he wouldn't be able to get out of bed the next day. Afu didn't refuse anymore, picked it up, and gulped it down.

Su Xiaoyin and Su Xiaoqing watched, feeling sorry for their parents who were so busy they barely had time to breathe. Occasionally, when Zhao Qinghuan was too overwhelmed, they would take their eldest grandson to look after him, giving Zhao Qinghuan a break. The grandson was still young and at that mischievous age. Su Xiaoyin would put him on a mat in the main room, give him a small piece of cloth, and he could play with it for half a day without crying or fussing. Chen's mother, watching from the stove, remarked that the child was easy to take care of, just like his father when he was a child. Su Xiaoyin smiled and said that Afu was the same way when he was little; give him something and he could play with it for half a day without making a fuss.

By the time the Dragon Boat Festival was approaching, Afu and Zhao Qinghuan had finally settled into their lives. The chicken and duck coops in the backyard were finished, and they had raised chicks and ducklings, who huddled together in fluffy clumps, chirping incessantly. Every day, the first thing Afu did when he returned from the fields was to go to the backyard to add food and water, squatting by the coop to watch them for a while, reaching out to touch the fluffy little creatures. Sometimes, when Zhao Qinghuan was too busy, Su Xiaoyin or Su Xiaoqing would go over to help feed them. Chen's mother would occasionally go over to check on things, adding a handful of hay to the chicken coop. The ducks would splash around by the water basin, splashing water all over her trousers, but she didn't say anything, just changed her pants and went back to her work.

Since the beginning of spring, Shi Tou and A Ji have been returning home much more often, sometimes with the children, sometimes alone. They're never idle when they're back; they're either helping weed the fields or carrying hoes to the ridges to fertilize. Shi Tou was bent over pulling weeds in the bean field, his hands covered in mud, but he didn't mind. After finishing one patch, he went to help A Ji. They wanted to make up for the filial piety they had neglected, but neither of them could bring themselves to say it, so they focused their efforts on the land. One was at one end of the ridge, the other at the other, separated by a patch of newly sprouted corn stalks. Neither of them looked up; only the muffled, solid sound of hoes striking the soil filled the air. Su Xiaoyin came out of the kitchen, glanced at the fire, then looked away, turning back to add a piece of firewood to the stove, watching the flames leap up and crackle a few times.

Su Xiaoyin and Su Xiaoqing only planned to embroider one large pattern this year, so they weren't in a rush and didn't start working during the spring planting season. They put their embroidery frames away in the corner, changed into old clothes, and went to the bamboo forest and mountains every day with baskets on their backs. When the bamboo shoots were just sprouting, they went into the mountains, their feet wet with dew. The bamboo shoots in the forest were tender and fresh, just emerging from the soil, with water droplets still clinging to their husks. Su Xiaoyin squatted down and used a small hoe to dig down the base of the shoot, holding the shoot down with her left hand and lifting it with her right, and the whole bamboo shoot emerged intact from the ground. Su Xiaoqing picked up the shoots beside her, shook off the mud from the roots, and stacked them in her basket.

Wild vegetables sprouted one after another on the mountain. Bright red toon buds stood on the branches, clustered together like tiny flames. Su Xiaoqing couldn't reach the higher branches, so Su Xiaoyin tiptoed to help her pull them down. Su Xiaoqing held the branch with one hand and pinched off the tenderest buds with the other, putting them in her basket. The tender shoots of prickly ash grew under the bushes, requiring her to bend over to pick them, weaving through the tall grass, her clothes covered in grass seeds and withered leaves. Su Xiaoyin kept the damaged bamboo shoots, slicing them into strips and salting them; after a few days, they became pickled bamboo shoots. The good bamboo shoots were blanched, dried, and spread out on bamboo mats to dry; after a few days, they shrank into golden-yellow dried bamboo shoots. These spring mountain products sold exceptionally well at the general store, more than doubling the usual income.

Seeing that they were too busy to take care of the household, Chen's mother prepared the meals early every evening. As soon as the pot lid was lifted, steaming hot vapor enveloped their faces. Two bowls of savory braised pork and light stew were laid out, and to prevent the food from getting cold, she covered them with another bowl. When Su Xiaoyin and the others returned from the mountain, there was no need to cook anymore. Su Xiaoqing sat on the porch eating her rice, while bamboo shoots that had been drying in the sun all day lay in the corner of the yard, emitting a fresh, earthy, and grassy aroma.

When the bamboo shoots and mountain produce came to market, Su Xiaoyin asked Chen Dashan to send some to Qingqing. Chen Dashan drove a mule cart to town and returned saying that Qingqing had a good appetite, ate and slept well, and had gained weight since the New Year, her cheeks were rounder. Su Xiaoyin was relieved to hear this, and went to the backyard to catch two old hens, tied their feet with straw rope and put them under the porch, saying she would personally deliver them to them in a couple of days after she finished her work, and also check on Qingqing. After the spring planting was over, Chen Xiaohe took over the general store, and Su Xiaoyin and Su Xiaoqing could finally take a breather. The two sisters set up their embroidery frame again, laid out the large embroidery pattern that they had only started, and began to add color stitch by stitch.

Sunlight streamed through the trees outside the window, falling on their hands. (The Chen family's...)