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

Qingqing's desire for a daughter grew stronger. Madam Yang didn't say anything, but Qingqing noticed she'd recently started rummaging through drawers, finding fine cotton fabrics and lace she'd treasured for years, and even going to the town's jewelry store to have a pair of small silver bells made, saying they'd hang on the cradle to amuse the baby. Qingqing pretended not to notice, but a smile involuntarily crept onto her lips. She thought that whether this baby was a girl or not, the Yang family would never lack laughter. As for Yang Wenhu's dream, Qingqing would probably never know. Everyone in the family hoped for a girl, except for Yang Wenhu, who secretly feared it. Every day he watched Qingqing sew those pink little clothes, wanting to speak but holding back, ultimately swallowing his words. What's meant to happen will happen, he told himself, whatever it is, the pain will be the same. Speaking out now would only cause Qingqing unnecessary worry, so why bother? Qingqing finished sewing the second little garment, looked at it in the light, and nodded in satisfaction. She had no idea what Yang Wenhu was thinking. He was squatting in the yard chopping wood, the axe slicing an elm log in two with each stroke, then neatly stacking the pieces, as if he were mentally distinguishing something. Each stroke was clean and efficient. Qingqing put away her needlework, stood up, walked to the door, looked at him, and called out, "Dinner's ready." Yang Wenhu looked up, leaned the axe against the wall, and walked over.

----

Su Xiaoyin and Su Xiaoqing took some time to make two sets of little clothes for Qingqing's unborn child. They used fine cotton fabric, as soft as a handful of spring water. Su Xiaoyin chose the fabric, and Su Xiaoqing cut it, the stitches fine and even. When Su Xiaoyin held the scissors to measure the size, she always unconsciously cut the cuffs a little wider, saying as she cut, "In case the baby grows quickly and the clothes are too small after a few days, it's better to make them a little bigger." Su Xiaoqing said, "Whenever you make clothes for the baby, aren't they always made a little too big?" The two sets of clothes, one pink and one light yellow—both colors Qingqing had mentioned. Su Xiaoqing said, "If it really is a girl, she'll definitely look beautiful in them." Su Xiaoyin didn't say anything, but simply unfolded the pink jacket and looked at it in the light. A small peach blossom was embroidered on the cuff, the stitches so fine they seemed to grow out of the fabric. She looked at it for a while, then folded it neatly and put it in a bundle, wrapped it with a clean cloth, and tied it with hemp rope.

Two pairs of tiger-head shoes were made, with thick uppers and densely stitched soles. The tiger heads embroidered on the uppers were round and plump, lacking the usual menacing air of tiger-head shoes, resembling two dozing kittens. Two bibs were also embroidered, one with pomegranates and the other with lotus flowers. Su Xiaoqing said that pomegranates symbolize many seeds, and lotus flowers symbolize childbirth, both auspicious meanings. Su Xiaoyin said that Qingqing hoped for a daughter, and she wouldn't be unhappy about these gifts. Su Xiaoqing said that she was happy with anything from her maternal family. Su Xiaoyin thought for a moment, then found a scrap of cloth and sewed a small purse, stuffing it with a handful of dried osmanthus flowers and tying it closed with red thread. This wasn't anything special, but if placed in the wardrobe, the faint scent of osmanthus would linger for a long time.

Qingqing was overjoyed upon receiving them. She opened the bundle and took out each item one by one, caressing the two little clothes in her hands, her fingertips tracing the stitches again and again, then holding them up to the light to examine them closely. She rubbed the pink jacket against her face, then turned to Yang Wenhu and said, "Look, my mother and aunt made these, aren't they beautiful?" Yang Wenhu, who was sitting on the edge of the kang (heated brick bed) looking at the account book, glanced up at her and said, "Beautiful." Qingqing said, "You didn't even look closely." Yang Wenhu put down the account book, looked at it carefully for a while, and said, "They really are beautiful, the stitches are even finer than my mother's." Qingqing ignored him, folded the little clothes neatly and put them in the cupboard, then touched the two pairs of tiger-head shoes, muttering "daughter, daughter." Yang Wenhu closed the account book, sat on the edge of the kang for a while, and didn't say anything.

Shi Tou and A Ji often visited Qing Qing in town. Shi Tou picked out several picture books about local customs from the school. The covers were worn, but the pages were still intact. He said the parents had brought them back from out of town, perfect for the children to read and learn about the outside world. Qing Qing took them and flipped through them, saying, "Big brother, where did you get these? They're so well-drawn!" Shi Tou replied that he got them from a student's parent; their child had finished reading them, and keeping them was just taking up space. A Ji, on the other hand, would bring over a jar of freshly brewed sweet soup every few days. Sometimes it was red bean paste, sometimes it was sweet fermented rice balls, wrapped in cotton cloth to keep it warm, so it was still hot when it arrived at the Yang family's house. Qing Qing said, "Second brother, are you trying to fatten me up like a pig?" A Ji put the jar on the table and said, "Pregnant women should eat more. Don't follow other people's diets." Qing Qing picked up the bowl, took a sip, and lowered her head without saying a word.

The villagers gradually noticed the change—although the Chen family had separated, their relationship seemed more harmonious than before. Before, the whole family crammed into one courtyard, and the constant clatter of pots and pans was inevitable. Now, separated, each had their own lives, but they still visited each other when needed and gathered together as usual. During holidays, Shitou's children, Aji's children, and Afu's children all ran around in the old house's courtyard, indistinguishable from one another. Those families who had initially been hesitant, seeing the Chen family's situation, began to have their resolve shift. Several other families followed suit, and those whose sons had been married for years but still lived with their elders gradually loosened their grip, adding a wall to their courtyards or opening a new gate. Su Xiaoyin met Aunt Li at the village entrance. Aunt Li took her hand and said, "Your family separated well, and you did so amicably. I went back and discussed it with my husband; we're sending our third and fourth sons out to live separately." Su Xiaoyin smiled but didn't say anything more.

Afu's work became increasingly smooth this year. From spring sowing to summer weeding, from fertilizing to weeding, he mastered the ropes. The crops in the field grew much more uniformly than last year; the corn stalks were thick and straight, and the soybean pods were plump and full. Walking along the field ridges, his trouser legs brushed against the soybean leaves, making a soft rustling sound. Zhao Qinghuan worked well with him—when Afu went to the fields, Zhao Qinghuan would arrange the work at the grocery store; one would sell goods in the front, and the other would knead dough in the backyard. No matter how busy the work in the fields was, Afu never let Zhao Qinghuan go to the fields. He said, "My mother and aunt haven't worked in the fields for all these years since they got married, and I won't let you go to the fields with me, toiling in the soil. Your work at home isn't easy either; you have to watch the grocery store, feed the chickens and ducks, process the medicinal herbs, and keep an eye on that mischievous brat." Zhao Qinghuan felt sorry for his tiredness and tried to cook him delicious meals in various ways, going to her family's herbal medicine shop every few days to get some nourishing herbs to make soup. Afu said he didn't need any tonics, that he was young. Zhao Qinghuan placed the bowl in front of him, saying it was up to him whether he drank it or not, since she had already made it. Afu took the bowl and drank it all in one gulp. The tacit understanding between the two was even deeper than when they first got married; they spoke less, and a glance was enough.