RMCF: Chapter 13

 

Chapter 13

Zhang Fangyuan was furious for a while. To think his own uncle, in an effort to win over the villagers, had invited the Guang family, whom he couldn't stand. Since he did not plan to set foot in their house again, he hadn’t expected to stumble right into them so soon, resulting in this embarrassing situation.

He walked on, lost in thought, and found himself at Haitang Bay—the spot Xu He had mentioned earlier as ideal for cutting grass.

Although this place was called Haitang Bay, there weren't actually any Chinese crabapple trees. It was just a large, flat slope covered in grass, still lush even in winter with tenacious vitality. Going further up, there was an old bamboo grove.

Zhang Fangyuan's anger subsided by half. Thinking it wasn't worth getting upset over these things, he decided to cut some grass to feed the horse instead.

But feeling around his person, he only found his pig-slaughtering tools. Just then, a sickle was handed to him, and his eyes lit up.

“Why are you here?”

Xu He, shouldering a tightly woven basket and carrying a large hoe, replied, “I should be asking you that.”

“Your parents are helping at my uncle's place, and your Second Sister is going too, right? Why aren't you going for the meal?”

“You didn't go, so it's not strange that I didn't either.” After saying this, Xu He felt it might be misinterpreted and added, “It's not good if everyone from the house is out. My mother asked me to watch the house.”

“If you're supposed to be watching the house, why are you out?”

As soon as he said it, Zhang Fangyuan felt he had misspoken. The so-called ‘watching the house’ was probably just an excuse to prevent him from attending the feast.

“I went to my uncle's house. They invited the Guang family. I don't get along with them, so I left.”

He briefly mentioned what had happened. Xu He furrowed his brows upon hearing it. “Don't be angry. People don't feel the pain until the burning coal lands on their own feet.”

Zhang Fangyuan chuckled. “Are you comforting me?”

“I'm not comforting you; I'm stating a fact.” Xu He suddenly remembered when Zhang Fangyuan bought him candied hawthorns to coax him while getting his medicine changed in the city. He always felt Zhang Fangyuan saw him as an immature child. Saying these things now felt a bit ridiculous, and he felt a bit embarrassed. “I should go.”

“Are you going up the mountain to dig for bamboo shoots?”

Xu He glanced at his hoe and acknowledged with a sound. The bamboo grove near Haitang Bay produced winter bamboo shoots. Peeling off the thick outer layers revealed tender, yellowish shoots inside. They were crisp and fresh in soups and stews, available only once each winter. After the season passed, they rotted directly in the ground, never growing into bamboo—as if it’s sole purpose in existing was to be made into fine food.

In good years, winter bamboo shoots could sell for five or six wen per jin, considered a mountain delicacy by city folks.

However, these winter bamboo shoots weren't easy to dig up. Unlike regular bamboo shoots that grow tall above ground and are easy to find upon entering the mountain, these were buried in the soil. You had to follow the bamboo rhizomes to dig them up.

There was a reason they were expensive: their delicious taste was one thing, but they also required significant labor.

“I've been travelling between villages this year and missed the digging season. By this time, the grove is usually all churned up by villagers, making them hard to find.” Zhang Fangyuan put the sickle back into Xu He's basket, abandoning his plan to cut grass. “Come on, I'll go dig with you.”

Xu He's brows furrowed. “This… you coming with me…”

Zhang Fangyuan strode ahead. “Don't worry. Most people in the village are at my uncle's place for the meal today. No one will come to this mountain slope. Who's going to see?”

“That's not what I meant.”

Zhang Fangyuan stopped walking. He rubbed his chin, smiling mischievously. “Are you afraid I'll do something to you?”

Xu He shot him a sidelong glance. Who in their right mind would be interested in him anyway? Unless they were drunk, who would fancy a scrawny, dark-skinned ger? “I meant, who gets the bamboo shoots we dig? How do we split them? I only have one hoe here.”

Zhang Fangyuan was taken aback for a moment, then couldn't help but laugh. “You're such a little miser.”

Xu He couldn't be bothered to respond. He gripped the carrying ropes with both hands and walked ahead on his own. The large figure followed behind like a big, goofy dog. Well, that was fine. Earlier, he’d heard rumours of wild boars roaming the grove near Haitang Bay. He had actually been a bit scared to go into the woods alone, but now he didn't have to worry.

It was the wild boars who should be afraid of Zhang Fangyuan.

Zhang Shicheng had chased after them all the way to Haitang Bay before spotting Zhang Fangyuan. From afar, he saw his nephew chatting with the young ger, laughing like a fool. His furrowed brows immediately relaxed. He didn't bother them by interrupting and let the two go into the mountain woods together.

He strolled back alone, hands behind his back, feeling relieved.

Zhang Fangyuan took the hoe from Xu He. “This hoe is your father's, right? It's okay for you to carry, but it must be heavy for actual work. A smaller-sized hoe would be more suitable.”

“Our family isn't that particular. If it works, it's fine.”

“My house has knives and farming tools of all sizes. After spring planting starts, if the ones at your house aren't working well, come to my place and borrow them. I'll lend them to you.”

Xu He wondered why he was being so enthusiastic. He acknowledged with a sound.

Once the pair entered the bamboo grove, the hoe never left Zhang Fangyuan's hands; he was the one digging the soil for shoots the whole time.

Xu He only knew how to dig for winter bamboo shoots blindly. He'd dig where the soil was slightly raised. In already churned-up soil, he was like a headless fly. But Zhang Fangyuan had often dug for winter shoots before. When his father was alive, he was an expert at it in the village and had passed on some tricks.

First, winter bamboo shoots grow along the bamboo rhizomes. One has to dig following the rhizome’s direction, while also observe the bamboo's growth. Only bamboos with lush, green leaves are likely to have shoots. Finding such bamboo and digging along their rhizomes was a sure bet.

Before long, Zhang Fangyuan used the hoe to uncover the tip of a shoot and, with one scoop of the hoe, dug it up along with its root.

Xu He picked up the winter bamboo shoot as if it were a precious treasure, patting the soil off. The short, stout, plump shoot looked simple and honest, even cute. Zhang Fangyuan had dug it up perfectly, without damaging even a bit of the outer sheath. Unlike himself—even when he did manage to find one, he'd often struggle to dig it up for a long time, or end up snapping the shoot clean off with the hoe.

He deftly took a chopper from his basket, found a wooden stump, and carefully trimmed away the root end, leaving a perfectly round bamboo shoot. Winter shoots with undamaged outer sheaths lasted longer, looked better, and could be sold quickly in town.

Time passed unnoticed in the woods. The winter grove felt particularly quiet, unlike spring with its singing birds flitting about. Only the sound of them working could be heard.

The two woked together seamlessly—one digging, the other processing the shoots. They didn't talk much, but each time they unearthed a large shoot, they’d exchange a knowing smile and carefully place it into the basket. Zhang Fangyuan didn't actually enjoy this kind of tedious and dull forest work, yet with someone else along, time passed surprisingly quickly.

The bamboo shoots in their basket were piling up, but neither of them seemed inclined to leave. It was only when droplets fell on Zhang Fangyuan's neck that he looked up at a patch of sky visible through the dense trees, wiped his face, and said, “Seems like it’s raining.”

Xu He was squatting under a dense old tree, curled up as he chopped off roots. Hearing Zhang Fangyuan, he stood up and came out to look at the sky. The cool, fine rain landed on his face. He nodded. “It really is raining.”

“If it's coming through the bamboo grove, the rain outside must already be heavy.” Zhang Fangyuan put down the hoe, picked up the sickle instead, took a few large strides to the mountain wall, cut some fern grass, and quickly bundled it into a hat, handing it to Xu He. “This might block a little. Don't get your hair soaked; you might catch a chill when you get back.”

He crouched down to pack all the bamboo shoots into the basket, had Xu He help him put it on his back, and handed the hoe to Xu He to carry. "When we reach the fork in the path later, you take the shoots back. I'll carry them for this first part.”

Hearing Zhang Fangyuan's meaning to give all the bamboo shoot to him, Xu He objected. “We dug them together. You should take the larger share.”

“I was just idle anyway. You like doing business so much; take them to town and sell them.”

Although Xu He didn't really want to discuss his family matters, he still said, “Even if I sell them, I have to hand the money over. And I've taken up so much of your time. What's the point?”

Zhang Fangyuan paused. That was true. Not everyone was like him, unsupervised, earning and spending as they pleased.

Xu He's mind was quick. “How about this: I'll take the damaged shoots home; that should be enough to account for my time. You take the good ones home, find a day to sell them in the city, and we can split the money then?”

Zhang Fangyuan laughed. “Alright.”

The two divided the shoots. Xu He lent his basket to Zhang Fangyuan, gathered a few of the damaged shoots, shouldered the hoe, and headed back. They parted ways on the main road.

Only upon getting back did Zhang Fangyuan realize it was already the hour of Shen (3-5 pm). On rainy winter days, it was really hard to tell the time. Remembering he hadn't eaten lunch yet, he carefully carried the shoots to the back storeroom, put them away, quickly made some food to eat, and then fed the horse some grass.

After tidying up briefly, by the time he stepped into the courtyard, the sky was already so dark he could barely see his way.

Zhang Fangyuan brought a charcoal brazier into his bedroom and lit it. The cold had been growing fierce lately. The wind blew weakly, but the snow refused to fall, making the air feel stiflingly cold. Worried Little Black might catch a chill, which wouldn't help its injury, he even lit some charcoal for the horse.

Back when his grandfather divided the family property, his father had been the middle son, neither the eldest nor the youngest. He didn't get the ancestral home, and being honest, he yielded to his brothers, so he didn't get much land either. The house Zhang Fangyuan lived in now was built later, after his father married. There were several rooms in total. When his parents were alive, it didn't feel very spacious, but now that he was alone, the house felt both large and empty.

Life alone wasn't easy to manage. Cooking a meal could last for several servings, reheated again and again. The stove fire wouldn't burn for long, and the house would quickly become cold again.

After lighting the charcoal brazier, the room felt much warmer, and the atmosphere seemed livelier.

With nothing else to do, Zhang Fangyuan simply heated water for a hot foot soak, washed up, and went to bed. Other families liked rainy days; no one had to go out to work. They would take a small piece of cured meat from the kitchen, stir-fry it or stew it, and everyone would gather around for a good meal. Life couldn't be better.

But for a household like his, there wasn't much to look forward to.

The bedroom was warmed by the charcoal fire. The sound of rain outside was strangely conducive to sleep. Zhang Fangyuan fell asleep not long after. In his dream, he saw someone moving in and out of his house, tidying and managing everything cleanly and properly. When he returned home, hot meals and good food were waiting for him.

But that person had a rather bad temper, always controlling him, taking all his money. If he wanted to buy something, he had to report it. After much pleading and coaxing, and serving the person well, he might get twenty wen.

Zhang Fangyuan really wanted to see clearly who dared to be so domineering with him. He struggled to make out the features, but there was only a back view. The face merged with the night, unclear. Zhang Fangyuan refused to accept this. He stepped forward, intending to grab hold of the person, when suddenly, a jolt—the sound of gongs and drums broke through the rain, sharp and piercing, shattering the dream.

He sat up abruptly in bed.

The twilight was deep, the rain outside had grown heavy; amidst the downpour, cries and wails echoed through the mountains and fields, along with the gong sounds from his dream.

“Someone, come quickly! Thief! Someone's stealing!”

 

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