Chapter 17

The weather continued to heat up. The wheat formed ears, and the green wheat awns were blown golden by the summer wind.

On the day the wheat harvest was set to begin, the group rose before dawn. They lit the stove and cooked breakfast, hastily gulped down a few mouthfuls, and then headed out to the fields to harvest the wheat. They wanted to cut as much as possible before the sun rose, while the temperature was still cool.

Without iron sickles, they used stone ones. The edges dulled after only a short while of cutting. Eventually, their tempers flared, and they resorted to yanking and tearing the wheat by hand.

They tied the wheat into bundles. With no carts for transport, they carried it on their backs and loaded it onto the livestock to haul back to the adobe house, where they spread it on the threshing ground to dry.

Dry the wheat. Thresh the wheat. Store the wheat.

After bustling through the cotton planting, they suddenly realized that the rice seedling field beside the pond had sprouted a dense, glossy green stubble, lush as scallions.

Planting couldn’t be delayed; missing the farming season would ruin the harvest.

They hadn’t even caught their breath before they were draining the seedling field, harrowing the soil to break up clods and smoothing the paddy fields, pulling up the seedlings, and transporting bundles of them to the water-filled fields.

Yunxiu had to stay home to cook. Meanwhile, the litter of rabbit kits in the hutch had reached adulthood and were now breeding. Two does had begun carrying straw to line their nests, so Yan Baiyu also stayed behind to watch the rabbits and assist Yunxiu.

The rest all went down to the fields, including Yu Muyang, who had recovered most of his health.

Carrying seedling bundles on shoulder poles, they asked Li Cunxin, “Village Chief, where do we put these?”

“Toss them into the field.”

“How?”

Li Cunxin picked up a bundle and flung it casually into the center of the flooded field. “Scatter them out. That way, when you run out of seedlings in your hand, you can grab more nearby.”

Once the bundles were tossed, they took off their shoes, rolled up their pant legs, and waded in.

Li Cunxin held a bundle of seedlings in her hand. “Wait. Let me explain first. Don’t plant them too densely, and don’t plant them too sparsely. Aim for just right.”

Xia Qing grumbled, “That’s like saying ‘add salt to taste’ when stir-frying.”

“I can’t exactly tell you a specific distance,” Li Cunxin said. She bent over and began transplanting. Her movements were clean and efficient—hand going down, hand coming right back up.

In the muddy water, an oil-green seedling stood upright, half unfurling its posture.

Li Cunxin took another seedling from her other hand and planted it into the paddy. Her movements repeated, smooth as flowing water. In the blink of an eye, she had planted an entire row. And true to her word, the spacing was just right. “Watch and judge for yourselves mentally. Get a feel for it. When planting, don’t push them too deep. Shallow is better, just enough so they stay stable.”

The group spread out across the paddy field. They imitated her, fumbling and learning as they went. Watching the spacing, watching the depth—self-consciousness made them hesitant, and they planted much slower than Li Cunxin.

The early summer sun was already fiercely hot, with sparse clouds. Feet sunk in mud, the murky water surface reflecting their blurry silhouettes. Beads of sweat gathered on their faces and dripped from the tips of their noses into the water.

Transplanting was back-breaking work. Long hours under the sun, stooped over, heads down, standing in water with no way to sit.

Most first-timers weren’t used to it. Those slightly weaker in constitution would feel exhausted after just a short stretch. Their backs ached, their heads pounded and swelled with blood, and they grew dizzy and nauseous.

Anticipating their unfamiliarity, Li Cunxin hadn’t pulled too many seedlings in the first place.

By afternoon, everyone’s clothes were soaked with sweat.

Li Cunxin spotted Yan Baiyu approaching, carrying a water jar. She called out to the field, “Everyone come ashore and rest a bit! Come drink some water!”

The group finished planting the seedlings still in their hands and gradually came ashore.

Li Cunxin accepted the bowl Yan Baiyu handed her, poured herself some water, and sat down on a nearby field ridge.

The bowl, and the water jar in Yan Baiyu’s hands, were from the batch fired after Yu Muyang’s arrival. Their shapes were far more regular than the ones Li Cunxin had fired herself. The outside was even coated with a layer of glaze, giving the fired bowls a smooth, clean surface that could reflect a person’s image.

After pouring the water, Yan Baiyu placed the water jar beside Li Cunxin.

Li Cunxin’s body was drenched in sweat, as if she’d been doused with a bucket of water. Strands of hair at her temples and forehead were wet and sticky, the roots gleaming with moisture. Her skin was reddened from the sun.

Yan Baiyu frowned. She picked up the banana leaf used to cover the water jar, lifted Li Cunxin’s hair with it, and began to fan her. “How much more is there?”

“We’ll finish planting that field over there today, then head back.”

“I’ll come down and transplant with you.”

Li Cunxin patted Yan Baiyu’s arm. “No need. There’s not much left. Yunxiu can’t manage everything at home alone. Go back and help her. Besides, you need to watch the rabbits—they’re our meat supply for the next few days.” During heavy work, eating only vegetables wasn’t filling enough. Lately, if Yunxiu wasn’t cooking rabbit, she had to at least fry a fish.

Saying this, Li Cunxin didn’t wait for Yan Baiyu’s answer. She lifted the hair on the back of her neck.

It had been a while since she’d last trimmed her hair. That uneven, choppy short cut had grown out into something resembling a mullet. Leaving it down was too long and hot; tying it up, it was too short. She muttered to herself, “I need to find time to chop off this tail at the back. Wearing it loose is like having a scarf wrapped around my neck.”

Yan Baiyu set down the banana leaf. “Let me tie it up for you.”

“Can it even be tied?”

Yan Baiyu pulled the hair tie from her own hair. Her long tresses swayed in the breeze like dark green willow strands. Holding the tie in her mouth, she used both hands as combs, running her fingers through Li Cunxin’s hair.

Li Cunxin felt the fingers on her head—cool and silken, soft. Suddenly, very self-consciously, she hunched her shoulders in restraint and laughed awkwardly. “It’s really sweaty. You’ll have to wash your hands later when you get back.”

The person behind her didn’t reply. She only felt a gentle, tightening pressure circling on her scalp.

“Done.”

Li Cunxin felt the back of her neck. Not a single strand had escaped. Even her forehead bangs had been swept entirely up. The whole world suddenly felt crisp, clear, and bright. “Hey, it actually went up!”

She turned around, delighted. When Yan Baiyu saw her turn, she paused for a moment. After a beat, a very soft, almost imperceptible “Mm.”

Li Cunxin stood up and stretched her back, then climbed back down into the field. Without looking back, she said, “We’ll finish planting this row and then head back. You go on ahead first. Tell Yunxiu she can start cooking now.”

The wind across the field was too dry and hot, carrying the scent of earth and sun-scorched grass. As it blew past, it seemed to gently cover her ears, muffling all other sounds.

Yan Baiyu gazed at that retreating figure, her mind drifting. After a long moment, she bent down, picked up the water jar, and went home.

They grew more and more proficient at transplanting. Still, it took them four or five days to finish all ten mu.

When the transplanting was done, it felt like completing a massive project. The farming season had reached a break. The group collapsed in the house, thinking only of sleeping deeply, of sleeping until the sky went dark.

But their biological clocks forced them awake. With no form of entertainment or leisure, boredom drove them to find things to do.

Coincidentally, Yunxiu had run out of spices. Those spices had been found in the forest, and she remembered their approximate location.

So, they decided to organize a belated spring outing, a recreational break after all the toil. Firstly, to search the forest for cinnamon and Sichuan pepper trees; secondly, to see if they could hunt some game.

The beacon fire was allowed to rest for two days. The group waited until the sunlight weakened somewhat, gathered their tools, and locked the doors. They had not yet reached the forest when the sky darkened, so they made camp outside and lit a fire. Early the next morning, as soon as it was barely light enough to see, they set off again.

By the time they reached the edge of the forest, it was still early morning. The air in the woods was exceptionally fresh and clear, filled with the crisp calls of birds near and far. Dew clung to the branches and leaves as if newly condensed.

The group followed Xia Qing and Yunxiu, all the while looking around. The forest was teeming with species. In spring and summer, plants bloomed and bore fruit, while animals reproduced and grew—all resources that could be utilized.

They hadn’t even found the cinnamon or camphor trees yet when an unremarkable-looking pine tree first caught their attention.

The pine tree was buzzing. Inside an oval-shaped tree hole was a beehive. Though from the outside they could only see dense clusters of brown bees clinging to the hive, images of honey had already filled everyone’s minds.

That amber, syrupy honey liquid.

Their eyes glinted. Their stomachs responded.

Xu Yin waved the others away. “Go on, move back a bit.”

Yunxiu said happily, “Uncle Xu, you’re going to get the beehive?”

Xia Qing said, “But we don’t have the tools for that! If he does it bare-handed, won’t he get stung into a swollen pig head?”

Xu Yin, however, didn’t hesitate. He walked up to the tree hole, extended a hand to test it. “It’s doable.”

Yan Baiyu took the outdoor jacket draped over the black donkey’s load and tossed it to Xu Yin. “Uncle Xu, cover your head with this. At least it’ll give some protection.”

Yan Baiyu then pulled out a few banana leaves from the donkey’s load, ready to hold the beehive.

Xu Yin glanced at her, then said to Li Cunxin and the others, “Get farther away. It’s fine with just Baiyu and me here.”

The rest of them moved off, glancing back three times every two steps.

“Hey, is this a green plum? Or a green date?” Yu Muyang pointed at a nearby tree and asked.

The others looked over. On the branch of a tree beside Yu Muyang, green fruits hung in heavy clusters.

Xia Qing smirked mischievously. “Green dates. They should be ripe.”

“Really?” Yu Muyang reached out, plucked one, wiped it on his hand, opened his mouth, and bit into it.

Xia Qing asked, “Is it sweet?”

Yu Muyang’s eyebrows twitched. Smiling, he said, “Sweet.” He took another big, crunchy bite, then picked another and passed it to Zhao Penglai. “Brother Zhao, try one too.”

Trustingly, Zhao Penglai took it and bit in. Juices flooded his mouth, making his jaw muscles seize up painfully. His entire face instantly aged ten years.

Only then did Yu Muyang’s face twist. He spat out the green plum in his mouth, drool streaming down, and cackled viciously. “If I can prank one, I’ll drag another down with me.”

Zhao Penglai aimed a kick at Yu Muyang’s backside. Xia Qing and Yunxiu doubled over in laughter. The group dissolved into chaos.

Li Cunxin smiled and shook her head, amused. She turned around to look around elsewhere, wanting to search for any usable seeds. Some of the crops she cultivated herself had come from this very place.

A fallen tree ahead was covered in a patch of moss. Beneath it, the fronds of ferns looked like two rows of green whiskers.

Li Cunxin climbed over the fallen tree and spotted a patch of white amid the green. It was a lily, slightly bowed and modest. The inner tips of its white petals carried a touch of reddish-brown.

Seeing a fresh flower always lifted the spirits. Li Cunxin walked over joyfully, intending to see if any of its companions were nearby. Her gaze naturally followed forward and lifted.

Ahead, green grass and fresh flowers stood respectfully to either side. Tree trunks and branches curved overhead, forming a dome. It seemed to form a green tunnel.

At the end of the tunnel, there was an apple tree. A sturdy branch, higher than a grown adult, stretched out; you’d need to stand on a rock to touch it.

Someone had thrown a long rope, like dried vine, over that branch. It formed a loop. They tugged it, testing its strength.

That someone, with a slender, fragile neck, was reaching toward the loop. The plane of that loop marked a boundary between life and death.

Li Cunxin felt as if she had fallen into a pit of ice. On that scorching hot day, she felt a bone-deep chill. Her muscles went rigid.

Her eyes widened, the corners aching, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away. The loop of dried vine seemed to have tightened around her own neck. Her body felt dragged down; the loop constricted tighter and tighter. She couldn’t breathe.

She opened her mouth to scream, but her throat produced no sound.

An indescribable panic and helplessness engulfed her. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was—dream or reality.

The sound of laughter and playful commotion behind her was like a stone, shattering the illusory mirror.

Li Cunxin looked back with difficulty and saw the people behind her. She cried out, “A person…”

“Save them.”

She snapped back to her senses. Never mind whether Yunxiu and the others could even hear her. She started running toward the end of the green tunnel, shouting, “Baiyu, save them!”

“Yunxiu, Xia Qing…”

She didn’t even know whose name she was calling. She just did her best to dodge the obstructing underbrush and weeds, sprinting toward that old pine tree, toward that silhouette that intended to hang itself.