Chapter 106

Chapter 106

As for the hemostatic powder, Zhao Sandi took it and scattered it all over the village, making sure the badly hurt got taken care of first. Folks with small cuts and scrapes just got some herbal stuff, so they wouldn't waste the expensive powder.

With this arrangement, no one had any objections. After a half-day of hard work, all he heard was thanks, not a single complaint.

Good. Zhao Sandi felt pretty satisfied and didn't think he'd gotten the short end of the stick.

After all, what people hate most is working hard and getting nothing back. If everyone's straight-up and honest, even if it's tiring and you gotta give a little extra, it's no big deal. In the end, cold-hearted folks are rare. Especially for villagers who've lived together for generations, they're like family that's tied together no matter what. As long as one feels it's worthwhile, the task can be done without too much fuss.

Of course, the ungrateful ones are another matter.

By evening, sheds had been put up in the yards of those three families. The coffins were scraped together from the village, originally meant for a few old men to use themselves. When Zhao Shanao led people to negotiate, they didn't hesitate to lend them out. Later, the village would chip in some cash to buy them off the old men, so no one would lose out.

They carried the coffins over to the three families, and the bodies, now dressed in burial clothes, were laid inside. In this heat, you couldn't keep them for seven days; even three days was pushing it. But they had to keep them—it was tradition. The dead men's parents insisted on a three-day wake before taking them up the mountain to bury them.

That day, the village was hopping. Women gathered grain and fruit; the injured men rested at home; those who could still work grabbed hoes and went up the mountain to dig graves; the boys went to the river to haul water for the fields; the girls followed their moms and grandmas to the shed at the village entrance to pick veggies, wash 'em, gather firewood, and build stoves.

When someone in the village died, the whole village pitched in—digging graves, carrying coffins, and so on. It was about building goodwill—when your own elder died, others would return the favor.

So the grieving families had to set up tables and throw a feast. In return, folks coming to the feast were supposed to give condolence money. But folks in Wanxia Village weren't rich; many families showed up without cash, just bringing veggies and eggs.

So the feast was pretty basic and not great.

This time, the village paid for and put together the feast, so nobody had to chip in. Each family gave some grain and veggies, and the generous ones threw in a piece of meat or a few eggs. All together, it was plenty.

With three families, it was tough to pick one house to host the feast without ticking off the other two. After talking it over, everyone agreed to hold it under the big tree at the village entrance. The shade helped with the heat, making work and eating a bit more bearable.

That night, the badly hurt men were fighting for their lives. Their wives and kids stayed by their beds all night, not daring to shut their eyes, scared of fever or things getting worse. They watched without blinking an eye.

Luckily, by the time the sky started to lighten, no crying was heard from any house. It looked like they'd made it through the first night.

Grandpa Da Gen said the first night was the most dangerous. If they got through it, seventy percent of the danger was gone.

It was tough on the injured, but also on the ones worrying. The heat killed their appetites, so they just drank water. But weirdly enough, maybe because they were relieved, the water tasted sweet. They thought the water the boys had brought yesterday was especially refreshing and hit the spot. Half a gourd later, the usual restlessness was gone.

Good. Today, they'd send their boys to get water again.

But one by one, the boys came back, saying, "Grandpa Da Gen told us to get water from the old well ourselves. He only helped with that one bucket yesterday."

The water their own boys brought back just didn't taste right. But there was no helping it—you couldn't boss Grandpa Da Gen around.

Zhao Xiaobao didn't know the villagers were eyeing the stream water from that magical spot. Early in the morning, she followed her third sister-in-law to the village entrance.

Sun Shi carried a full basket of eggs. Since the family had more than they could eat, bringing them to the feast was a great honor. Everyone who saw it praised her generosity.

When they arrived, many were already picking vegetables and lighting stoves, bustling about in a haze of smoke and heat.

After a quick look around without seeing Chunya and Xiaohua, Zhao Xiaobao didn't go looking for them. Instead, she crouched under the big tree and secretly watered its roots. Ever since the weather turned hot, she came three times a day to water it, as diligently as her father watered the fields. She never missed a day. Thanks to her care, the banyan tree wasn't losing its leaves or drying out like in her dream. Even the thick roots felt cool to the touch, very pleasant.

After watering, she affectionately patted the bark. "Big banyan tree, have you had enough to drink? Oh, you're full? Good, Xiaobao knows. I'll come back at noon." Then she slowly stood up, sneaked over to the newly built stove, stood there for a while, got a boiled egg, and happily ran off to the river to find Xiaohua and the others.

There was a little water in the river now, not much, but better than nothing.

Early in the morning, the girls had already brought their wooden basins to the river to wash clothes.

The usual washing spot had dried up, the stone slabs cracked from the sun. "Washing clothes" now meant taking the basins down to the river's center, wetting the clothes, scrubbing them with both hands, and wringing them dry—sometimes without even using soap pods.

Today's clothes were the ones their fathers and grandfathers had changed out of the day before, stained with blood. After a night, the blood had clotted into patches, making scrubbing especially troublesome and frightening. Hearing Zhao Xiaobao's voice, they turned to see her rolling up her pants. Xiaohua quickly waved her hand. "Little aunt, don't come down. The river's not clean—there are sharp stones that'll hurt your feet. Find a shady spot and wait for us."

Those close to the Zhao family knew how cherished Zhao Xiaobao was. Usually, Old Lady Wang kept a close eye on her, and when she went out to play, Xiao Wu and the others watched her too. Over time, the other girls had gotten used to it and also kept an eye on her, never letting her go anywhere dangerous.

"Oh." Zhao Xiaobao obediently turned around, found a slightly wilted tree, took off her straw hat to sit on, propped her chin on her hands, and watched her friends scrubbing clothes in the middle of the river.

The sun hadn't come out yet, but it was already hot, and there were many mosquitoes. After just a short while, she had two mosquito bites on her legs.

She took out some green ointment, applied it to the bites, and, bored, watered the tree in front of her, hoping it wouldn't die of thirst. The trees on the back hill were drying up in large numbers. She followed Xiao Wu and the others into the mountains every day to gather dry firewood—why not take it? What was a nuisance in summer would be a treasure in winter.

There was so much firewood that it couldn't all fit under the eaves of the wooden house. Her father had set aside a spot behind the house to stack it. Her brothers and sisters-in-law said the pile could keep them warm for several winters. If they took it to town to sell during a heavy snow, they might even make a fortune.

Silver was actually pretty easy to earn.

Zhao Xiaobao sat cross-legged on the ridge of the field, her big eyes darting around. When she grew up, she'd gather firewood in summer to sell in winter—earning summer money in winter, hehe.

And she wouldn't even have to do the work herself. She'd have her nephews gather the firewood, and they'd sell it. She'd just sit back and count the silver. As a little aunt, she wouldn't shortchange her nephews. If they earned ten coppers, she'd give them three... no, two coppers!

Hehehe, hahaha...

The more Zhao Xiaobao thought about it, the happier she got, laughing out loud and swaying her little body.

Suddenly, a ray of light hit her, slightly dazzling. She raised her arm to shield her eyes and squinted at the sun rising in the east.

She slapped her leg, rubbed some grass to wipe off the mosquito blood, and saw Xiaohua and the others slowly walking toward the riverbank with their wooden basins. She slowly stood up, tossed a handful of red ground fruit into her straw hat, and grinned, waving at them. "Over here!"

"We know you're there. We've been watching you." Xiaohua put her basin on the ground, stepped onto the stones laid in the mud, found a puddle of water, crouched down, and carefully washed the mud off her legs and feet.

The sun had just come out; it was still early. Their mothers and grandmothers had gone to the village entrance to help with the cooking and stoves. No one was home, so they weren't in a hurry. A group of girls sat in a row on the ridge, eating the fruit Xiaobao had shared with them.

"Xiaobao, you're so lucky. You always find red ground fruit when you go into the mountains," a little girl said enviously. She also gathered firewood in the mountains but had never come across any.

"Mm-hmm, lucky," Zhao Xiaobao nodded and added a few more to her lap. "Dujuan, if you like them, eat more."

"Thank you." The girl called Dujuan blushed. She had been about to shamelessly ask where Xiaobao had picked them, but now, holding the fruit pressed into her hands, she felt too embarrassed.

Good thing she hadn't spoken. Biting into the sweet red ground fruit, she remembered how her cousin had pestered Xiaobao for some before, and Xiaobao had looked unhappy. After that, whenever her cousin was around, Xiaobao never brought out any fruit. Xiaohua and the others said her cousin was annoying and had no tact—you shouldn't pester others for things.

She thought Xiaohua was right. Good thing she hadn't impulsively spoken, or next time, Xiaobao might not want to play with her either.

After finishing the fruit and feeding the mosquitoes for a while, the group of girls laughed and headed back to the village.

At the village entrance, they parted ways to go home and hang up the clothes. Zhao Xiaobao originally wanted to go to Xiaohua's house to play, but when she saw the tables already set up under the shed by the big tree, she immediately changed direction, ran over, and cleverly chose the most shaded table to save a seat.

Her mother had taught her: at a feast, you pick a good spot and come early to save a seat, or else you'll end up eating leftovers.

Seeing Xiaohua still holding her basin, she waved and said, "Xiaohua, hurry up and hang the clothes. I'm saving you a seat—we'll sit together."

"Okay." Seeing that Sister-in-law Sun was also there, Xiaohua felt reassured. She greeted her mother and then carried her basin home.

The village entrance was bustling with activity, smoke and steam rising. The suonas started playing, the three families taking turns, rushing through the tunes, very busy.

By noon, the men who had gone to dig graves in the mountains came down. The three households wailed loudly, their cries mournful and hard to listen to.

When it was time to eat, the three families sat at the main table. Before the feast began, drums and gongs were beaten, and suonas were played. Zhao Xiaobao covered her ears. When the suona stopped, the village announced the start of the meal.

The feast was decent. After all, the incident had happened while helping the village fight for water. Even the hardest-hearted person, walking by the river and seeing the water flowing down from upstream, couldn't help but go home and bring eggs or meat.

The women, unable to fight, did their best to make the feast abundant and the funeral lively, putting on a grand show to send the deceased off properly.

The suonas played for three full days, and the feast at the village entrance lasted three days as well.

On the day of the burial, the children were kept indoors, forbidden to go out, for fear of being struck by bad luck.

There was a saying that on the day of burial, the soul of the deceased would return home one last time. The incense ash scattered during the coffin-carrying ceremony would be poured in the center of the main hall. When the deceased stepped on the ash, the footprints left behind would reveal what they would be reincarnated as in their next life.

During this time, no one was allowed to appear on the path the soul would take. If they encountered it, they would be struck by bad luck—minor illnesses or major disasters.

Zhao Xiaobao didn't understand. She was kept at home for half a day until noon, when her eldest sister-in-law rushed back and said mysteriously, "They say it's chicken claws. Zhou Dakang has been reborn as an animal. In his next life, he'll be pecking at rice."