Chapter 248

Chapter 248

After saying this, Old Zhao left. He also needed to rest and regain his strength as quickly as possible.

The old woman and the boy stood motionless in place until a thin layer of snow accumulated on their shoulders. Only then did Ma Auntie walk over, forcefully pulling Chen Pingan, whose feet seemed rooted to the ground, and called out to Old Lady Sun, leading them to a newly laid bed at the edge: "The child is frail, not like us adults. If he catches a chill in this weather, it could be fatal." She said this to Old Lady Sun, noticing how the kid clung to her, so she added a reminder.

Having several daughters of her own, she was quite patient with children. She personally lifted the quilt and the rain tarp, took off Chen Pingan’s only remaining filthy cotton shoe, and tucked him in next to Old Lady Sun, who was already fast asleep and curled up tight: "Don’t be afraid. Snuggle up close—you'll be a lot warmer. Rest easy—when everyone gets up, they’ll call you. Don't worry, they won't leave you behind."

He pressed his back tight against the unfamiliar old woman. Warmth radiated from her, a comfort in the biting cold of winter that made him cling even closer instinctively.

He wasn’t old, but he was at an age where he could understand things. Just as he could sense the kindness of this aunt before him, he also grasped the meaning behind the old man’s earlier words.

Old Lady Sun had said that if he wanted to find his father and bring him back, he had to beg them—beg the leader of this group, the burly old man with the knife. They were from the same place, fellow villagers, so surely he would help find his father. He had to beg, kneel, cry, and plead shamelessly... After months on the run, he'd suffered, seen what people were really like, and learned that besides his folks, nobody would care for him for nothing.

He missed his dad, so he said something. But he didn't beg or cry. His dad had always taught him to be reasonable and grateful. It was already wrong of him to ask; he couldn't be ungrateful and demand more.

Chen Pingan closed his eyes. After the aunt who had covered him with the quilt left, a muffled, suppressed sob sounded in that space.

...

The snow continued to fall. The fire crackled, and the pot of water boiled, kept warm at all times.

A bunch of boys huddled around the fire to warm up. Every now and then, a couple of them would get up to check around. Seeing nothing unusual, they’d return, tuck their necks in, pull their legs close, and huddle together for warmth.

All of them wore thick cotton-padded jackets, their spirits undampened by traveling through the night. Instead, the responsibility of standing watch made them appear lively and alert.

Zhou Santou squeezed to the edge of the fire, rubbing his frostbitten hands. He'd blow his nose and wipe it on his pants, grossing everyone out.

Lots of kids were just as dirty. Actually, being dirty was normal on this trip; the Zhao boys being clean was the exception. When Zhao Xiaowu saw Zhou Santou wipe his nose on his pants again, he frowned—the Zhao men had these thick eyebrows—and said disgustedly, "Wiping and smearing all over—aren’t you afraid of getting worms in your belly, Zhou Santou?"

"'Course I'm scared! Pulling out worms is freaky!" Zhou Santou hadn’t expected to be called out even though he was sitting at the edge. He didn't care the ground was icy—he scooped up some snow and scrubbed his hands clean of snot and dirt. "Last time I went to pee in the woods, I saw some kid pulling one out by hand. Got so scared my pee went back in."

He raised his red hands, rubbing and warming them by the fire.

All the grudges from the village had melted away during their shared hardships. Now they were all in it together. Zhou Santou deeply admired the Zhao brothers, who commanded attention among the kids. He followed them everywhere and obeyed Zhao Xiaowu’s every word, even putting his own elder brother’s orders second.

Zhou Datou had already gone off to sleep comfortably in their shelter, but Zhou Santou refused to rest. He assigned himself the task of "standing watch," waiting by the fire for Zhao Xiaowu’s commands.

Zhao Xiaowu had no idea what to do. He didn't want to send Zhou Santou anywhere—the kid was way too unreliable. If he sent him to check the storage area, he'd trip over everything, knocking over baskets and packs.

"Shut up! That’s disgusting!"

"Zhou Santou, you’re annoying! Just keep quiet and warm yourself!"

The kids all yelled at once.

"If you wipe your nose on your pants again, I'll have the Village Elder take away your padded pants," Zhao Feng threatened darkly. Scare tactics were the only way to handle Zhou Santou. "Er Lai's pants got torn on a branch, and the cotton fell out. He patched 'em, but they ain't warm no more. Ask him—doesn't he want a warm pair?"

Life on the run was boring, with hardly any fun. Zhou Santou took after his granny. He was one of those characters who could trip on flat ground and fall flat on his face, or start a whole show with his loud mouth. Everybody, young and old, liked to mess with Zhou Santou—since his grandma was tough, they picked on him instead.

Zhao Feng was the sneakiest of the brothers. He'd play the bad guy to scare Zhou Santou, who was a little scared of him and kept his distance. Hearing that and seeing Er Lai nod while touching his pants—stitched up by his mom like a centipede—Zhou Santou was too scared to say a word.

His pants were very warm; he didn’t want to give them to Er Lai.

"Look at how clean our clothes and pants are, and then look at how dirty yours are—full of snot and mud. You don’t take care of them at all." Dagouzi pointed at his own clothes then at Zhou Santou's, talking just like his dad Li Mancang. "If you take care of your clothes, they can last years. If you don't, they'll be worn out in no time. We ain't rich—we gotta be careful and save."

Gou Sheng nodded: "We're homeless refugees now, no money for new clothes. If you ruin these and there aren't spares, you'll have to paint your little bird with soot and walk naked."

Zhou Santou’s eyes widened.

"Going naked's fine in summer when it's hot, but it's winter!" The two worked in perfect unison, typical of the Gou clan. "You'll freeze, and then you'll be useless—can't carry on the family line, can't marry a wife."

Before Zhou Santou could howl about wanting a wife, Dagouzi stopped, counted the days in his head, and got gloomy: "No wonder it’s so cold—the depths of winter, the twelfth lunar month... It’s almost New Year’s..."

This year, they'd left their hometown, left Wanxia Village, eating dust and suffering nonstop on the road. In past years, even though Spring Festival wasn't fancy, after a year of pinching pennies, they'd treat themselves a bit. Mother and Second Aunt would kill a chicken and a duck; Father and Second Uncle would set traps in the river for fish and snares in the mountains for rabbits. The pig raised all year would be sold to the butcher, with a few strips of cured pork kept aside. Their grandmother, who doted on the grandchildren, would fry some meatballs and vegetable balls.

On New Year's Eve, the table would be laden with dishes: chicken, duck, fish, rabbit, cured pork, and rare rice without beans or dried vegetables, plus meatball soup...

As Dagouzi thought about it, he began to drool. He looked at the fire before him, the falling snow, and the endless road of escape. With the pain of losing those precious delicacies, he growled, "Anyway, you have to take care of your clothes! No more wiping your nose on them! Otherwise, you'll lose your bird and never get a wife!"

"I get it, I get it! Don't say anymore! I won't dare!" Zhou Santou clutched his head and repeatedly promised.

They had been teasing to pass the time. The boys' topics shifted quickly. Soon, they were talking about the old woman and the child. They all knew that Old Zhao had let them stay. Old Lady Sun would travel with them to Liangjun Prefecture, and the boy named Ping'an could go with them to Yanlin Prefecture.

"Don't look at them sideways later. Treat them like kids from the village—take them along when walking, eating, drinking, or resting," Zhao Xiaowu instructed his circle of good buddies. "He's more pitiful than us. We have parents and grandparents; he has nothing. I'm not asking you to pity him, but don't bully him."

"Yeah!" All the kids obediently nodded.

They weren't interested in bullying anyone. Teasing Zhou Santou was just because he was one of them—it wasn't bullying; it was acceptance. Not playing with him would be the real bullying.

On the other side, hearing Zhao Xiaowu's earnest instructions for the kids not to bully the newcomer, the Ma sisters felt their hearts melt like butter. They worked quickly, making pancakes, steaming corn buns, stir-frying rice and beans, and drying meat jerky, all while chatting busily.

"Cuilian, how'd you raise your kids? They're so sweet!" Ma Erniang spoke warmly to Zhu Shi. Since they'd become sworn kin, they got along even better. By family ties, Zhu Laicai was now Zhu Shi's older brother, so she had to call Ma Auntie "Sister." Zhu Shi was a bit older than her. But she always did as she pleased—sometimes calling her Cuilian, sometimes "Sister-in-law" when following the Zhao family, and sometimes just using her name. It was messy but casual. "Second Sister-in-law and Third Sister-in-law too—your kids are all raised so well. Sigh, us adults wouldn't even think of that, but the kids are sharp and thoughtful, handling everything just right."

She adored the Zhao kids—both boys and girls had big hearts and were open and graceful. Really, if the ages matched, she'd want to marry her Xu Geer to one of the Zhao girls.

But she only dared think it, never say it. Her sister-in-law and brother treated their only daughter like the apple of their eye. Although she thought her own son was perfect, she had self-awareness—it was just her own perspective.

Look at this trip: Xu Geer spent most of the day in the donkey cart, showing how frail a scholar he was. Compared to these sturdy village kids, her son was "weak as a willow"—totally useless and unreliable.

"A bunch of wild monkeys. We've never been able to control them—they're so annoying!"

"You don't know how troublesome they are. New clothes get ruined within half a day—climbing mountains, swimming in rivers, climbing trees for eggs, digging holes to catch snakes. They're bold as anything. It worries me to death!"

"We spank them with sticks, but guess what? The stick breaks before their butts even turn red! Their skin and flesh are like iron!"

The three Zhu sisters-in-law laughed and chatted. No mother doesn't like hearing praise for her children. They liked it, but they had to be modest, so they praised the other's child: "I think your Xu Geer is the endearing one. He's a scholar who can read and will take the civil exams to become an official in the future—much better than my brood."

"He's frail," Ma Erniang said, still preferring robust, tough boys.

"Oh, just fatten him up! Let him walk more on the ground, build up his strength, and his body will get sturdy."

Wang Shi and Old Lady Sun helped tend the fire, listening to the young wives chatter about their children and occasionally chiming in. They needed to prepare enough rations for the next half month. They had been the ones handling most of the cooking along the way, as only their two families had donkey carts and enough physical strength for the work.

Doing a bit more would quell the schemes forming in some people's minds.

Managing a group of hundreds of refugees was never just about a few words or imposing authority. Wherever people gather, there will be friction and conflict—it's inevitable, part of human nature.

Some feel light work, others fatigue—people get jealous, envious, and resentful.

Of course, having ready-made rations would also silence complaints.

There was no point arguing over what should or shouldn't be done, or who was losing out. Doing a few trivial tasks avoided many arguments, so it was nothing.

After all, fleeing their hometown was already hard and exhausting.

"Dry more venison jerky," Wang Shi said softly. "It's almost New Year's. Wherever we end up, we still have to celebrate."

Old Lady Sun paused, then nodded: "Mm."

This year there's no chance to prepare a big New Year's Eve dinner, nor is there a table to display the chickens, ducks, and pork that were raised with hard work for a whole year, and can't even get the whole family together... Thinking of the eldest son and his wife who were swept away by the flood, her eyes instantly reddened.

"We really should dry more. Whether we get one piece or two, it's still the New Year after all, we need to eat something good." She wiped her tears with her sleeve, and when she looked up again, she wore the same smile that was always on her face. "Come to think of it, I've lived most of my life and still don't know what venison tastes like. Those creatures are clever, good at hiding and running; ordinary folks can't catch them. It's your child who is capable, actually managed to catch one."

Wang thought to herself, that child caught not just one—he caught two!

She just smiled and nodded, "Yes, indeed a capable child."

Compared to her own children, he is sturdier; compared to other kids, he can read and write. He has a good temper, patiently teaching the dull old man Mandarin over and over, teaching a few youngsters martial arts moves, and even carrying Xiaobao's smelly shoes that had poop on them, washing them carefully without showing any disgust...

She has seen everything, piece by piece, and although she usually says nothing, she grows more satisfied with him every day.

Earlier, she even privately asked her daughter, "When you grow up, how about marrying Brother Qingxuan?"

Although it was just an offhand private talk between mother and daughter, at that time Xiaobao's reaction seemed very willing, her little head nodding eagerly.