After closing her eyes for over twenty minutes, Lu Nan slowly woke up. She yawned.
Out of habit, she reached out to touch beside her, but no one was there.
“Are you awake?” Song Wenwei was outside, stretching lazily.
She sighed, “You know, resting for a bit really makes a difference. I feel refreshed all over.”
“My back doesn’t ache anymore, and my legs don’t hurt…” As Lu Nan spoke, she burst out laughing herself.
Song Wenwei teased her, “Oh, getting humorous now~”
“I learned it specially—how to stop putting on a sour face and be a witty, fun person.”
“From a book?”
“Yeah.” Lu Nan laughed. “The book is called The Self-Cultivation Handbook for the Witty and Humorous.”
Song Wenwei: “…”
“Let’s go, let’s go.”
Lu Nan packed up the tent, shaking out the fabric a few times to let the sand on it fall back to the ground. Since they’d only lain down briefly, they hadn’t used stakes.
While she folded the fabric, Song Wenwei squatted on the ground to collapse the frame.
Lu Nan nodded to herself—two wives working in harmony could even break metal.
Once they’d packed everything and shouldered their backpacks, only two folding boxes and one large bucket remained in front of them.
“This bucket would be easy if it locked tight.”
Lu Nan gave it a hearty slap, and the plastic bucket rang out like a drum—thump, thump, thump.
She suggested to Song Wenwei, “Here’s the plan: you take these two, but be careful—my fish might jump around.”
Song Wenwei paused. “You’re going to carry this?”
Though Lu Nan hadn’t finished her thought, there were only three items total. If she took the two boxes, that left the bucket for Lu Nan.
Song Wenwei eyed the difference between them. The two folding boxes were light and easy to carry by hand, but the full bucket was another story—especially on the rugged mountain path.
This division clearly meant Lu Nan was taking all the hardship herself, letting Song Wenwei walk carefree behind. Song Wenwei wasn’t happy with it. They’d been assigned the same task, so she had a duty to share the load too.
There was no reason for Lu Nan to shoulder it all alone—her feet had only just healed.
She doesn’t even know how to take care of herself. Has she been this oblivious all these years? Song Wenwei thought darkly.
Lu Nan said, “Yeah, I’ll carry this down the mountain. Be careful when you walk—it’s a bit sloped here, gets steep.”
As she moved to hoist the bucket onto her shoulder, Song Wenwei quickly pressed down on her hand.
Song Wenwei said firmly, “No, I want to carry some too.”
She knew it was steep and still wouldn’t share the burden—a nameless fire rose in her chest, darkening her expression.
“No… problem.”
Lu Nan swallowed the last two words.
She hadn’t noticed earlier, but now she clearly saw the change in Song Wenwei’s face.
What’s going on? Why is she mad?
“Okay, okay.”
Lu Nan reflected deeply on her mistake—she must have said something wrong again. Oh god, this is the first time Song Wenwei’s gotten this angry at me.
Damn it, how do you coax an angry wife?
Find your mistake, apologize, make it up to her. Right, right! Lu Nan told herself.
She ventured tentatively, “Then… how about I carry half and you carry half?”
Afraid to upset her more, Lu Nan didn’t dare take it all herself. She continued, “This way, we can save some strength to support each other. When you’re carrying, put half your body’s weight on your lower half—otherwise, with the weight up top and light bottom, you could tumble.”
“Okay.” Song Wenwei nodded, committing her words to memory.
“This thing’s like a gas canister. If it weren’t for all these rocks around, we wouldn’t need to carry it—we could just spin it on its lid all the way to the village, no sweat.”
“When have you ever carried a gas canister?” Song Wenwei asked.
“Not telling.” Lu Nan grinned shamelessly.
She certainly wouldn’t say.
That kind of story was best shared at home—it would make someone feel sorry for her. Out here, it wouldn’t even get a tender response.
—
By the time they arrived, faint silhouettes lingered at the village entrance.
The sky had gradually darkened, and the card’s vague instruction—”before it gets too dark”—offered no precise time.
How dark counts as “too dark”? A little? Half? Total blackout? Not a question for overthinkers.
A small shadow crouched in the pitch-black corner, pulling out a round, stick-like object. Like an old monk striking a bell, she tapped the basket. The two shadows beside her matched her rhythm.
Two tall shadows stood like stone statues at the main gate, utterly still.
Lu Nan gripped the white bucket tightly, spinning it with effort. Song Wenwei had carried it earlier; now it was her turn.
She slowed her steps, letting her body guide the bucket along. As she’d said, it took no strength—just care that the lid didn’t loosen and send the dates flying.
Thump, thump, thump it went along the way. Plastic couldn’t withstand prolonged wear like a metal gas canister could—even on sandy ground without grinding through.
“You’re really doing it…” Song Wenwei marveled, boxes in hand.
She’d thought Lu Nan was joking, but the bucket seemed weightless in her hands—impressively effortless.
Someone shouted from behind them, tone urgent. “Make way up front! Make way…”
“Can’t brake! Can’t brake~”
Song Wenwei immediately pulled Lu Nan to the roadside to avoid a collision.
In the distance, long poles bobbed up and down. You Hui and Gu Yue shouldered a huge bundle of bamboo and charged toward them.
Gu Yue led, bearing the front end as she ran; You Hui trailed with the rear. They sprinted full tilt.
“Hurry, hurry!” Gu Yue yelled. “It’s getting dark—we’re gonna be late!”
You Hui panted behind her. “Slow down! How are you so damn fast?”
Right after, Ren Bahai appeared, vegetable baskets in both hands, his bulging muscles visible. He shouted after them, “You two, speeding! I don’t wanna be last—wait for me!”
Song Wenwei and Lu Nan exchanged a glance and barely held back their laughter.
…
At San Village’s entrance.
The sky had fully darkened, roadside lamps flickering on one by one beneath them.
“Why isn’t the door open yet?” You Hui and Gu Yue arrived panting, dropping the bamboo and staring at the firmly shut gate.
Gu Yue said, “Probably not time yet.”
Xia Zhengyun glanced upward. The sky had darkened completely; only the lamps ahead glowed, leaving the overhead sky pitch black.
By the light from elsewhere, they could still make out those nearby—just two people short.
Tang Qi’s legs had gone numb from squatting. She grumbled resentfully, “We’ve been squatting here forever.”
Gu Yue patted her shoulder. “Didn’t expect you, little miss, to work so efficiently—faster than us.”
Lu Nan and Song Wenwei strolled up leisurely, the white bucket spinning in her hands. She even suggested to Song Wenwei, “Why don’t you give me my fish? I think I can handle it again.”
Song Wenwei edged away deliberately. “Keep spinning. No random suggestions.”
“Oh.”
Once behind, Lu Nan twisted her arm—the bucket’s surface couldn’t take more wear. She’d need to carry it the rest of this short stretch. They were just at the village head; more road lay ahead. Save the spinning for later.
They arrived unhurriedly; everyone else was already there.
Tang Qi, stroking her cabbage, looked up as someone approached and lit up at the sight of Song Wenwei coming straight at her.
She stood abruptly, but after squatting so long, her legs buckled with numbness flooding her body. Tang Qi grimaced, swaying unsteadily.
Just as she teetered toward falling, two hands caught her precisely.
Tang Qi blinked blankly—it was Lu Nan. Her face looked icy-cold, but her hands were warm. Beside her stood a concerned Song Wenwei.
“Thanks… you.”
Song Wenwei asked, “You okay? Don’t stand up too fast if your legs are numb.”
Tang Qi nodded, legs still tingling. She instinctively tried to bend them but couldn’t straighten fully. The two helped her to the wall.
“Lean here and jump a bit,” Song Wenwei said. “Jump out the numbness.”
Seeing her still standing dazed, Lu Nan squatted down. What’s wrong with this kid? Not saying a word, just staring. Did the numbness mess her up?
Without further ado, Lu Nan punched her leg—not hard, but enough to twist Tang Qi’s face in pain.
The numbness exploded instantly.
“N-n-n-n-numb…”
“No need to call me that.” Lu Nan was a bit flustered. Why’s this kid randomly claiming kinship? She looks kinda dumb anyway.
Of course, she didn’t mind raising her with Song Wenwei—a lively daughter sounded nice, dumbness aside.
Gu Yue raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Tang Qi, new godma?”
Tang Qi was too flustered to speak, face flushed red.
Not now—have some mercy, don’t tease! she thought desperately.
She bit her lip, looking at the woman beside her. She’d known since last night that the online rumors might be true.
Right now, Lu Nan was still pounding her leg, tirelessly devoted. In these few seconds, Tang Qi couldn’t utter a word.
Only she could stop Lu Nan. The gray jacket woman looked concerned—hope dawned.
She said, “Wenwei-jie…”
No sooner had she spoken than the other hand thumped her other leg. Tears streamed down Tang Qi’s face. People were fragile—like her now, powerless to fight back, only enduring.
Tang Qi hadn’t expected Lu Nan to help, painful as it was. She didn’t seem so annoying now, face aside.
“Okay, okay, I’m not numb anymore. Thanks.”
The lamps above everyone’s heads lit up, and the gate before them swung open at the same moment.
As the door opened, a gentle female voice rang out—
“Sorry to keep you waiting…”
Out stepped a girl who looked about eighteen or nineteen, her skin a healthy wheat tone, brimming with vitality.
“No problem.”
“So much stuff! I’ll call people to carry it. Just come in.” The girl waved them inside.
Everyone crossed the threshold but wouldn’t dream of leaving their items. They crouched to pick them up, but the girl stopped them.
“Put them down—we’ll handle it. Can’t have guests carrying things, especially when you’ve brought gifts.”
She shouted behind her, “Dog-brats! Come take the stuff! Hear me?!”
Her voice boomed bold and hearty, piercing every ear there—even Song Wenwei was impressed.
In under two seconds, a group of kids ran up—boys and girls, the oldest around twelve, the youngest about five.
They stopped before the group, bowed politely, and chorused, “Hello, uncles and aunties!”
Everyone smiled and greeted back.
“Hello~”
You Hui reacted first, his squinting eyes widening round. “Why uncles for us, but sisters for them?”
Yi Xiao chimed in, “Do I look that old?”
Ren Bahai: “My workouts were for nothing.”
Gu Yue shrugged. “Kids call what they want. How can adults say that—hurts their feelings.”
The other four: “…”
Enough! Taking the bargain and acting noble.
Big hands handed to small, they scooped up items one per kid and bolted inside, as if afraid others would snatch them.
“Don’t grab—cousin, don’t take mine!”
Everyone exchanged bemused looks.
“Come on, come on.” The girl saw only bamboo and the white bucket left on the ground. She grabbed the bamboo with her right hand and reached for the bucket, but the bamboo was too unwieldy.
“We’ll get it,” Xia Zhengyun said. She picked up the remaining bamboo; You Hui and Yi Xiao shouldered the end.
Lu Nan placed both hands on the bucket, spun it once, then hooked her right hand on top, body guiding it along.
Gu Yue stared wide-eyed. “When did you learn this? Like juggling.”
Lu Nan: “Pro moves.”
“Teach me,” Gu Yue said.
“Scram.”
The girl chuckled awkwardly, seeing everyone laden. “Sorry about this. Follow me—we’ll head inside to rest, then start cooking and eating.”
Everyone followed her pace down a path lined with trees and flowers, beautiful even at night.
“Are you all living here together?” Tang Qi asked.
She saw so many children that it seemed unlikely they were all from one family. Back in her hometown, she knew people who had three children whose descendants all lived in standalone houses surrounded by a ring of buildings, like a large courtyard.
“Yeah,” the girl nodded and said. “Our ancestors have lived here for generations. There must be over a hundred people in total.”
“So San Village is your home?” You Hui exclaimed in surprise.
No matter how far they walked, there seemed to be no end in sight. It was hard to imagine an entire village full of their relatives—what kind of concept was that? Were they incredibly wealthy, or had it been passed down through the generations?
“It’s not exactly my home,” she said. “The village chief changes every year. We’re here, we’re here—my house is just up ahead.”
The girl pointed to the five-story standalone villa in front of them.
The front gate was open, and the courtyard inside held the items the children had carried over earlier, but there was no sign of any of the kids.
“Where did those children go?”
“They went back to do their homework. They have supplementary classes tomorrow.”
The girl set down the bamboo. “Oh, right, I forgot to introduce myself. My surname is Ke, and my name is Ke Zhuila. You can just call me A-Zhui. It’s still early, and I’ve already got the rice stewing. We can make dinner later.”
