Chapter 581: Extra—Ai Xiaolan 2

Chapter 581 Extra—Ai Xiaolan 2

Ai Xiaolan felt a spark of hope, but Mom returned empty-handed, bringing back neither meat nor sandals. She locked herself in her room as soon as she got back.

"Mom, what's wrong?" Ai Xiaolan grew worried. After waiting a while, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, only to find Mom slumped on the edge of the bed, shoulders drooping as she sobbed.

Unable to hold back any longer, Mom hugged Ai Xiaolan tightly and burst into tears.

Out of the eighty-one yuan she had earned from selling the corn, eight of the ten-yuan bills were counterfeit. A whole year’s work had gone to waste in a single day.

Seeing Mom cry so bitterly, Ai Xiaolan’s heart ached too.

Mom’s face had grown dark, aged, and thin from the relentless harvest work, her hands rough and calloused. Ai Xiaolan remembered how Mom had staggered home, panting under the weight of the corn, sweat soaking her back, chest, and hair. She recalled the grueling work of watering the fields and pulling weeds alongside Mom.

Now, all that effort had come to nothing. Ai Xiaolan couldn’t help but sob along with her.

Brother Aru, hearing the two women’s cries growing louder, actually managed to wobble to his feet with the support of the wall. But after just two steps, he collapsed, knocking over the chicken feed bowl and scattering the low-grade corn kernels across the ground.

Perhaps moved by Ai Xiaolan’s grief, Mom whispered to her that night, "Xi Xi, don’t worry. We still have money—enough for you and Aru. The earnings from Aru’s father and Aru’s herb gathering, I’ve saved it all. I can still work. I’ll save more for you."

Mom began taking day labor jobs, helping others till the hardened fields after harvest where the tenacious corn roots clung tightly to the dry earth. The four-tined rake had to be driven down with all her strength.

As Mom returned home later and later each day, Brother Aru spoke to Ai Xiaolan for the first time.

"Xi Xi, carry me up the mountain. It’s not far—just that hill over there. When I was gathering medicinal herbs before, I found a patch of *mao lao hu* (a medicinal herb) there. It should be ready to harvest now."

Ai Xiaolan’s eyes lit up. "Can we sell it for money?"

At his quiet ‘yes’, she hoisted him onto her back—he was so thin, nothing but bones—and set off. Following his directions, she found the patch of medicinal herbs and, under his guidance, filled a back-basket. Sweat poured down her face, but nothing could dim her joy.

Brother Aru watched her silently for a long time.

"How much can we sell it for? If we get money, will Mom not have to work for others anymore?" Ai Xiaolan crouched and turned to look at him, the sunlight gilding her face. Her voice brimmed with excitement, and Xiao Feng, sensing her happiness, circled around her.

After hanging the basket on Brother Aru’s back, Ai Xiaolan carried him home. At a fork in the mountain path, he patted her shoulder. "Put me down. Let’s rest a while."

She set him on a nearby rock. From the mountaintop, they gazed down at the ancient wooden village below—a patchwork of fields, sunlight, greenery, streams, nameless wildflowers in the fields, crops sprouting from the earth, wisps of chimney smoke, the sounds of chickens and dogs. Nature’s warmth could heal the soul.

Brother Aru glanced at Ai Xiaolan, her eyes shining, her skin much darker than before but glowing with healthy energy.

Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the mixed feelings in his heart.

Pointing to a narrow path not far away, he said, "I know a bit of medicine. I know you’ve been pretending—pretending to have forgotten your past. Right now, with Mom not watching, take that path. Follow it all the way, cross that mountain, and pass through a stretch of forest. After that, you’ll reach a main road. Head north, keep going, and you’ll reach a village. Beyond that is the town. Once there, ask for the bus station..."

He pulled something from his pocket and shoved it into Ai Xiaolan’s hand, urging her to leave quickly.

Dazed, she looked down at what he’d given her—a crudely drawn map on yellow notebook paper, along with money: one ten-yuan bill, two two-yuan bills, one fifty-cent note, and three ten-cent notes, even a few fen coins (small denominations).

"You had money all along? And you didn’t give it to Mom? She cried for so long!"

What angered Ai Xiaolan most was that this damned mute was trying to drive her away.

Her face set in a scowl, she slung the basket over her back and marched home with Xiao Feng. Let him stay there. Then let the wolves eat him. Then it’d just be her and Mom left.

As it grew darker, Mom still hadn’t returned—she’d been coming home late these past few days. Xiao Feng hadn’t come back either. Huo De Jiu, Rou Wanzi, and Juan Juan (the family’s animals) paced restlessly at the door, whining.

Ai Xiaolan figured they were looking for their mother. Thinking of how good Mom had been to her, she felt a twinge of guilt. If Mom found out she’d abandoned Brother Aru, would she be angry?

With this in mind, she headed back up the mountain. Halfway there, she encountered Brother Aru, dragging himself home with Xiao Feng quietly trailing behind, keeping watch over him.

Seeing Ai Xiaolan approach, Xiao Feng gave two soft whines, like a plea.

Gasping for breath, Brother Aru looked up at Ai Xiaolan. She gritted her teeth and said, "Learned your lesson? If you ever try to drive me away again, I’ll toss you in the ditch."

Brother Aru remained silent.

She carried him back home. His sweat trickled down her neck, making her freeze.

Was he crying?

Guilt tugged at her. He was a pitiful man, after all.

Back home, she filled a big tub with water for him, laid a plank across it, and helped him sit inside. She set a bucket of water beside the basin and laid clean clothes on a nearby chair.

The two returned to their usual silence.

Ai Xiaolan still roamed the fields with Xiao Feng and her four pups, picking wildflowers, gathering vegetables, bringing Aunty water and rain gear.

Brother Aru sat quietly by the door, watching her. His face, neck, and arms were pocked with mosquito bites from being abandoned on the mountain that day.

He crushed herbs to make a medicinal solution and gave Ai Xiaolan a bottle, telling her to dab it on her skin after bathing to repel mosquitoes.

Months flew by. Ai Xiaolan had learned to chop firewood in the mountains and catch shrimp in the river. She made two friends and even started copying the local women, standing at the edge of her vegetable garden with hands on her hips, cursing in the local tongue when someone’s chickens ate her crops.

When the New Year came, Aunty bought Ai Xiaolan new clothes. She kept running her hands over the coarse, homespun coat. "What about yours?"

Aunty smiled. "Aunty’s too old to fuss with new clothes. Pretty girls should wear them. Brother Aru doesn’t want any either—he’s a man."

On New Year’s Eve, Aunty killed a chicken. She had Ai Xiaolan chase it with a bamboo rake. The hen flailed, screeching in terror, and Ai Xiaolan screamed just as loudly.

When it was time to kill the chicken, Aunty made her hold its legs. The bird struggled violently in her grip, making her shriek again. She thought she was turning into a proper softie.

At the New Year’s feast, she scored a drumstick—heavenly.

She seemed to like this place more and more. She slept soundly every night. She loved Aunty.

The following year, Brother Aru went back to doctoring for villagers. Aunty no longer accompanied her, letting her go to the market with other villagers to sell fruits and mushrooms.

The village chief’s wife secretly came to warn Aunty and Brother Aru, "Xi Xi sent a letter. I intercepted it. You’re being reckless."

Aunty and Brother Aru didn’t open the letter, only noting the address—a distant province, a place called City A.

They mailed the letter out. For a long time afterward, mother and son were walking around with long faces.

Assuming times were tight again, Ai Xiaolan quietly approached Brother Aru, offering to carry him up the mountain to gather herbs. She asked him to teach her to identify them so she could help prepare prescriptions for villagers, saving them trips to town. She even hoped to earn a little extra money by selling herbs.

Aunty and Brother Aru waited a month... three months... half a year... a full year.

No one came for Ai Xiaolan.

They pitied her all the more. Her maternal family was unreliable—they hadn’t even responded to her plea for help.

Unaware of all this, Ai Xiaolan ran barefoot through the fields, her laughter ringing far and wide. A wreath of wildflowers trembled on her head as she grinned brightly. "Meatball, Longevity, hurry up!"

The four dogs chased after her joyfully.

In 1990, Ai Xiaolan’s third year in this home, the nation conducted its fourth population census. She received her ID card. Under "Name," it read: Yu Xi Xi.