Chapter 212

Chapter 212

Dawn was just breaking with a faint light, and a soft breeze brushed her face.

The pole rose and fell in the water, making a gurgling sound as it broke the surface, occasionally accompanied by a few quarrels. It was already lively first thing in the morning.

Zhao Xiaobao yawned before she even opened her eyes. She seemed to hear Xi'er's voice, loud and rowdy, arguing with Zhou Santou, accusing him of picking on Chūnyá again.

Zhou Santou whined that it wasn't true. He hadn't bullied Chūnyá or Chun Miao in ages, and neither did his brother. If they dared to snatch Chūnyá's steamed buns now, their grandma would slap them silly if she caught them.

"I saw it! That day we were cutting bamboo, you ate Chūnyá's flatbread!"

"She gave it to me! I didn't take it!"

"So you purposely whined about being hungry right in front of her?"

"..."

Zhou Santou hemmed and hawed and went quiet. He hadn't intentionally said he was hungry in front of his sister, but he was starving, dizzy even, and he couldn't even remember if he'd complained. But since Zhao Xi said that, he certainly couldn't admit it, because his sister really did give him her leftover flatbread.

He didn't want to take it either, but he was just too hungry. All the village grain got washed away by the flood, leaving only a few sacks they earned hauling grain for other folks outside. Liuhe Village was in even worse shape—only two families managed to drag a couple sacks of grain into the mountains when they fled, but the rain soaked 'em and they went bad.

Both villages depended on those few sacks of rations from their village to get by. The old village chief and the uncles were kind-hearted and would share the steamed coarse rice they made with the Liuhe Village folks. He used to get half a bowl of that coarse rice, but with all these extra people, he only got a thin scraping at the bottom of his bowl, gone in two mouthfuls.

Zhou Santou was aggrieved. He didn't want to share the grain his dad and the others had busted their backs for with the people of Liuhe Village. His grandma and the rest were just as upset, full of complaints, but they didn't dare speak up. Aunt Xiaobao had gone missing, and Grandpa Da Gen was in a foul mood. If anyone crossed him now, they'd get an earful for sure.

He insisted on coming along to search just to get away from his grandma's nagging. She jabbered all day, grumbling that the Liuhe Village folks were taking advantage of them, and once these few sacks of grain were gone, what would they do? When the flood went down, the villagers still had their fields, so they had something to look forward to, but their family had nothing. Once this little bit of grain ran out, they'd starve!

He didn't want to starve, so now he glared at Sun Xuming, nitpicking everything.

Look, another one came back to life, another mouth to feed. Ugh!

And of course, he hated the Gan siblings even more. Those two were worse than Sun Xuming. Tch!

While he was muttering to himself, a familiar voice rang out from the lead raft, sharp and angry, making him duck his head on reflex. He'd been traumatized by that voice: "Zhou Santou, you're bullying Chūnyá again!"

"Just you wait till I get back, I'll deal with you—"

The voice cut off abruptly.

Zhao Xiaobao rubbed her bleary eyes, still thinking she was dreaming. In the dream, Zhou Santou was being a brat, playing pitiful and begging Chūnyá for food. Chūnyá was so sweet, never picking favorites with her younger siblings. Even though Zhou Santou used to bully her, now that he was a bit better, Chūnyá treated him like a real younger brother. How could he not appreciate having such a good sister and go and steal her rations?

Jerk! Zhou Santou was such a jerk! When she got back, she'd teach him a lesson and knock him on the head!

Furious, Zhao Xiaobao snapped her eyes open.

Then she saw her mother.

She blinked, hardly believing it, then closed her eyes again.

After a long moment, she cautiously lifted her eyelids. Under the blue sky and white clouds, the crow's feet at her eyes, the lines on her forehead—all so familiar.

It was her mother, and her mother was smiling at her, squinting her eyes!

Wangshi reached out and touched her chubby little face. The calluses on her palm were rough and tickled Zhao Xiaobao. She couldn't help squirming and giggling: "Mom, how'd you get into Xiaobao's dream too?"

"Mom, Xiaobao heard Xi'er's voice too, and Zhou Santou. Xiaobao doesn't know how much longer it'll take to get back. Brother Qing Xuan rows the raft every day, so hard. Xiaobao is too weak to help. Mom, can you teach Santou a lesson for Xiaobao first? Tell him to stop stealing Chūnyá's food. Chūnyá is older than him; if he's hungry, so is Chūnyá."

"Mom, Xiaobao misses you so much."

"Mom, Xiaobao also misses Dad, brothers, sister-in-law, and nephews."

"Mom, Brother Qing Xuan is really amazing. He can build a raft. Dad's precious old bamboo that he was reluctant to use—Brother Qing Xuan used it all to make the raft."

"Mom, tell Dad not to be angry. When Xiaobao gets back, I'll take Brother Qing Xuan into the mountains to cut bamboo. Lots and lots of it, so Dad can have plenty to weave."

"Mom, Brother Qing Xuan knows about the Immortal Land now. Don't be mad at Xiaobao. Brother Qing Xuan came to save Xiaobao; I can't abandon him."

She had so much to say, her little mouth chattering endlessly. But as she spoke, her big eyes silently welled up, and teardrops the size of beans slipped down the corners of her eyes into her temples, soaking into her hair.

She sniffled quickly twice, as if afraid her mother would see her crying. She pressed her arm hard against her eyelids, her little body trembling with sobs. Her tightly shut lips couldn't suppress the cry rising in her throat.

Wangshi's heart was breaking. Her eyes reddened, and she hugged her daughter tightly, tears falling in big drops: "Xiaobao, this isn't a dream. It's Mom. Dad and Mom have come to find you."

"Look at Mom. Look carefully. Xiaobao isn't dreaming. Mom is holding you right now."

Mother and daughter—one hiding, afraid to lift her head, the other reaching out to pull her hand—cried until their collars were wet.

Qing Xuan only said that Xiaobao had been very good, never cried, never clamored for her parents. She stayed obediently tucked in her basket, causing no trouble, doing whatever she was told.

Those words brought no comfort to Wangshi; her heart felt crushed and bruised, aching deeply.

How could she not miss her parents? Her Xiaobao used to cling to her clothes to sleep, and when she was younger, she had to be held every night before she'd fall asleep. How could she suddenly become independent after just two years away from her parents?

It's just that, with a child's animal instinct, she knew that only by being obedient could she return to her parents' side. So she didn't cry or fuss, didn't cause trouble, and stayed quiet in the basket that could barely turn around.

Even adults couldn't stand being cooped up at home all day, feeling suffocated and unable to stretch. They would find any chance to go outside and move around.

Xiaobao had never been a quiet girl. She loved running and jumping with her nephews, causing mischief all over the mountain and village. If she were confined at home for a single day, she would cover her eyes and cry, complaining that her parents, brothers, and sister-in-law didn't love her anymore.

Such a spoiled child—mischief was her nature, being good was suppressing her spirit.

Wangshi's heart broke again and again, unbearably pained. She kept wiping her tears: "Mom and Dad found Xiaobao last night. You were asleep then, so Mom didn't wake you. Your three older brothers and nephews came too. They were all so worried about you. Santou and Dagouzi also came. Xiaobao isn't dreaming; it's real."

Sensing that the arm pressing her eyes had loosened, Wangshi seized the moment and gently pulled her arm down. Seeing her lashes wet with tears, nose red, staring at her in a daze, Wangshi couldn't help but smile through her tears, hugging her and shaking her gently: "It's really Mom. Reach out and touch Mom, see if it's warm."

Zhao Xiaobao instinctively reached out, her chubby palm gently pressing against her mother's face. Under her palm, it was wet, cool, a little bit warm—not like in a dream where it would dissipate at a touch. It was a real feeling. She had touched her mother.

With a loud hiccup, her chin trembled, and she looked ready to cry again. Hearing the commotion, Old Man Zhao hurried over, grabbing her other hand and pressing it against his own face.

"Dad's precious little one, feel carefully—is it Dad? Don't cry anymore. If you keep crying, your eyes will hurt later." His rough fingertips gently wiped the tears on his daughter's face. He never knew his Xiaobao could cry so much, her eyes like a mountain spring, gushing water.

Old Man Zhao's heart clenched, aching unbearably.

Zhao Xiaobao pressed one hand on her father, the other on her mother. On her face was the slightly scratchy sensation of her father wiping her tears. It was real. It really was her parents. Her parents had come for her.

She turned to look at her mother, then her father. It's real! It's really Mom and Dad!

Mom and Dad came for Xiaobao!

"Wah—"

A loud, piercing cry rang out. On the other rafts, people smiled as they watched the family of three crying in each other's arms, all turning their heads away.

Zhao Xi sniffled, reached into his cloth bag, pulled out a flatbread, folded it, and stuffed it into his mouth. He had to block his throat, or he would cry too.

He had been so worried about his little aunt. When she was gone, Grandpa and Grandma had lost their vitality. The atmosphere at home was stifling. He hated that—it felt like every breath was bitter, and no one dared to speak.

But now it was fine. Now was the best. As long as their family was together, nothing else mattered!

“Hmph.” He chewed the flatbread in big mouthfuls, his nostrils flaring with heavy breaths, tears of joy streaming down his face. He wiped them away roughly with his arm and cracked a silly grin.

He unhooked the waterskin from his waist, tipped his head back, and gulped down two mouthfuls to wash down the bread stuck in his throat. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Zhou Santou squatting nearby, staring at him longingly. With a disdainful snort, he shoved the rest of the flatbread into the other man’s hands. “Eat up. Fill your belly. So you've got strength for the beating you're about to take.”

Anyone bold enough to swipe Chūnyǎ’s flatbread better be ready to face her little fist. Even if Chūnyǎ had given it to him herself—which she wouldn’t, because she wasn’t stupid enough to starve herself just to feed her brother—Granny Zhou had been standing right there watching, saying nothing.

Zhou Santou didn’t care about any of that. He took the flatbread and crammed it into his mouth, grinning like a fool. When he saw Zhao Xi pull out a hand towel and start tying it over his face, he mumbled through a full mouth, “Is it really that stinky? I can’t smell a thing.”

“That’s because your nostrils are packed with boogers,” Zhao Xi shot back, having finished turning himself into a masked hero, with only his eyes showing. “Zhou Santou, once you’ve polished off that bread, get to work. Keep your eyes and ears sharp—look and listen. Grandpa said there’s no rush getting home. Take your time and scan the river, especially the nooks and crannies where debris piles up. Take a good look, perk up your ears, and listen for any noise. If you spot any survivors, we’ll lend a hand and pull them to higher, safer ground.”

On their way here, they’d been too busy hunting for their little aunt (Chūnyǎ) to spare a thought for rescuing others. Even when they came across survivors in the river, they’d just toss them a couple of steamed buns or push over some big logs or doors so they could hold on a little longer on their own.

They couldn’t stop. They had no time or energy to rescue people and then search for places to settle them. At most, when they came across rescue boats along the way, they’d point them in the right direction and tell the person in charge where some living people were.

It was pretty cold-hearted, but Zhao Xi didn’t think they were wrong. In a great disaster, family comes first. Only when your own affairs are sorted do you have the capacity to save others—that’s the right way to do things.

Even when those people saw them not lifting a finger and yelled curses with their last breath as their bamboo raft drifted away, it didn’t bother him in the slightest. They’d given them food. That was already plenty.

There were plenty others who fished dead livestock from the river, dead set on making a buck off the disaster. They were close enough to hear the cries for help, but they turned a blind eye and a deaf ear, and refused to extend a hand.

In times of disaster, you see people’s true colors. Grandpa said they shouldn’t try to be saints, but they wouldn’t be villains either.

Take the villagers of Liuhe Village, for example. They’d shown them kindness when they were at their lowest—sharing their land, helping build houses, giving them a stable place to land. They owed them that debt. So whether the flood came or food ran short, they had to sound the alarm, run around spreading word, and share every bite of food with them.

But for strangers—same rule: if you’re in a position to help, help. If you can’t, don’t show off. Putting your family aside to bustle about and save everyone else—that’s the sign of a waterlogged brain, or a head cracked by a rock. Just plain sick.

Now they were set, they could afford to lend a hand.

“Did you hear me?” No one answered. Zhao Xi was annoyed and twisted his head to curse Zhou Santou, only to find him red-faced and choking, both hands clutching his throat, eyes rolling back. He looked moments away from becoming the first person in this flood to die from a flatbread. “Did you get floodwater in your brain?! No one’s fighting you for it—why did you have to shove the whole thing in your mouth at once!”

Startled, Zhao Xi quickly shoved the waterskin at him.

“Zhou Santou, you idiot! If you ever go out in public, don’t you dare tell anyone you’re from Wanxia Village—it’s too embarrassing!”