Chapter 22

The rice in the paddy fields had turned yellow-green. The ears of grain were heavy enough to bend the stalks. The field had dried out, so everyone put on their shoes and went down, moving the threshing buckets into the field.

Zhao Penglai grabbed a handful of grain heads and rubbed a few grains into his palm. Xu Yin took a couple of grains from his hand, tossed them into his mouth, and bit down with a crunch. Zhao Penglai mimicked him, chewing on the unhulled rice. It didn’t have much taste, but to him it was fragrant, because they had grown it with their own hands.

Standing on the field ridges, everything their eyes touched was their rice paddies. The autumn wind billowed their clothes. The air carried the grassy scent of rice straw.

“Our fields! Our rice! Ahhh—!!!” Yu Muyang stood on the ridge, spreading his arms wide to embrace the autumn wind, howling like a madman.

Li Cunxin laughed and scolded, “What are you howling for? Get down and work.”

They harvested the rice and beat the grain heads against the threshing buckets to strip the grains.

From transplanting seedlings to tending the fields, they had all been meticulous. This concerned their food and survival—who would dare be lazy? Very few seedlings had fallen flat or yellowed.

The newly reclaimed fields didn’t shoot up as ferociously as fields that had been cultivated for years, but fortunately, the weather that year had been favorable—sunny when it should be sunny, rainy when it should be rainy. There were few empty husks. It counted as a bumper harvest.

After harvesting the rice and moving it to the drying ground to sun, they immediately turned around to harvest the cotton, then arranged to plant the winter wheat.

When the busy season hit, it was breathlessly hectic. Every day they left the house clean and came back covered in dirt. They didn’t even want to lift their chopsticks to eat, nor say a single extra word.

But this kind of frantic, tiring life brought them an unexpected gain: Liu Cuo Jin’s condition improved more and more.

She didn’t seem like someone forced by reality to reluctantly accept and be shoved forward by fate. She was genuinely living.

There was light in her eyes. She took the initiative to joke with everyone and to grow closer. It was only then that they realized this young woman was by nature outgoing and lively.

Analyzing it, they concluded that physical activity had pulled Liu Cuo Jin out of her depressive state. Hard labor was also a kind of extremely strenuous exercise.

When Li Cunxin went to tend the vegetable garden out back, Yan Baiyu came to find her to talk about Liu Cuo Jin.

They both agreed that Liu Cuo Jin now had the will to live. But because she was so young and had a history of breakdown, they had to be especially careful about her psychological state.

Yan Baiyu said, “Cunxin, Maslow had a theory of needs. He said human needs have five levels, from bottom to top: physiological needs, safety needs, social belonging needs, esteem needs, and self-actualization needs. We’ve given her food, housing; with the gray wolves, Uncle Xu, and us here, her safety is basically ensured; we respect her, care for her, and I believe she has felt that and accepted us. We’ve provided physiology, safety, social belonging, and esteem. But for her to have a full mental state, with enough motivation to strive forward, she still needs the final item: self-actualization.”

Li Cunxin nodded along. She didn’t know who Maslow was, but she understood the principle Yan Baiyu was explaining. “So we need to encourage her, affirm her, let her have a sense of accomplishment, right?”

Yan Baiyu said, “Actually, this hierarchy of needs doesn’t just apply to her. It applies to anyone—Uncle Xu, Yunxiu, Xia Qing, me… and you. We might not necessarily lack self-actualization. We could also lack human connection and affection, or lack psychological security. Cunxin, in this world, a mental collapse is more terrifying than any disaster. We need to maintain good mental states. So, if…”

Li Cunxin smiled. Yan Baiyu paused and looked at her quietly.

Li Cunxin said, “I know, I get what you mean, Baiyu. It’s fine. If you ever have something on your mind in the future, just come find me. I’ll help you adjust your mindset. Even if I can’t console you, I can at least give you a hug.”

Li Cunxin had misunderstood, getting the order reversed. Yan Baiyu pressed her lips together in a faint smile. She didn’t explain but played along. “Then, in the spirit of reciprocity, if you ever have worries, or a hurdle you can’t cross, you have to tell me too. Don’t keep it all bottled up inside.”

Li Cunxin’s gaze fell sideways, as if lost in thought. She looked at a little weed sprouting in the soil at the edge of the garden. On the weed’s leaf rested a seven-spotted ladybug. The breeze came, not rough, rather gentle, but the ladybug still shrank back, trembling.

After a long moment, Li Cunxin said, “Alright.”

Yan Baiyu added, “Can we treat this as our own little agreement, and not tell anyone else?”

Li Cunxin reflexively asked, “Why?”

Yan Baiyu’s face was calm for a moment, then she gave a tiny smile. “I’m shy.”

Li Cunxin’s eyes widened in surprise. She looked up abruptly at Yan Baiyu. A flash of realization sparked in her mind, and she suddenly thought she’d solved the puzzle.

So Yan Baiyu’s occasional polite distance was because she was shy!

She appeared poised and graceful in front of others because of good upbringing, but deep down she was actually easily embarrassed. There really were people like that.

It was as if she had discovered a New World, getting to know Yan Baiyu all over again. She thought to herself: This outwardly mature woman is just too cute.

So this was that… what was it called… right, gap moe!

With the gravity of an unbreakable vow, Li Cunxin declared, “No problem!”

After agreeing, Li Cunxin suddenly realized they’d gotten off track. They had clearly been talking about Liu Cuo Jin. How had the topic shifted to the two of them? She cleared her throat and said sternly, “About this self-actualization matter you mentioned: I’m thinking it’s time to ask Little Liu about her talent. The moment her talent’s skills and knowledge bring convenience to our lives—that should be when she feels the most accomplished.”

“When do you plan to ask her?”

“Of course, there’s no time like the present!”

After dinner, they cleared the bowls. Yunxiu made each person a bowl of osmanthus brown sugar tea and lit a candle on the table. They said it was just casual chat, not wanting to put too much pressure on Liu Cuo Jin.

By now, though, Liu Cuo Jin no longer resisted talking about matters in this world.

So when Li Cunxin opened by asking about her talent, Liu Cuo Jin didn’t resist at all. She obediently answered right away, “I don’t have a talent.”

Everyone froze. The room was so silent only their breathing could be heard.

“What… what do you mean, no talent?” Xia Qing stared, dumbfounded.

They had privately guessed at every profession under the sun, but never imagined someone could lack a talent entirely.

Liu Cuo Jin said, “My brain didn’t suddenly gain any knowledge I didn’t have before. My hands-on ability didn’t improve much either.”

“This!” Yu Muyang slammed the table and stood up. “So there’s a common card mixed into a stack of gold cards? Talent isn’t something everyone gets? Is that old man heaven cheating our feelings?!”

Li Cunxin glared at Yu Muyang. Under the table, Zhao Penglai kicked him.

“Who kicked me?” Yu Muyang said. Looking up, he saw Li Cunxin’s fierce stare and, from the side, Xu Yin’s cold glare drifting over. Yu Muyang’s neck tightened as he suddenly realized he’d overreacted to the news that Liu Cuo Jin had no talent.

In a group where everyone else had talents, Liu Cuo Jin alone was ordinary, and he’d made such a big deal about it—that was a bit hurtful.

Yu Muyang gave an awkward laugh. “Actually, having no talent isn’t a big deal. Look at me, I do have a talent, but it’s pretty useless, really.”

Yan Baiyu rested her chin on her hand and thought for a moment before asking Liu Cuo Jin, “Little Liu, did that thought—the one that let you choose—ever appear in your head?”

Liu Cuo Jin’s hands made a few uneasy little movements. “It did, but I didn’t choose. At the time, I was so scared, so panicked, I just couldn’t deal with that thing.” During that period, she had been extremely resistant, her whole mind a mess. Aside from negative emotions, she couldn’t fit anything else in.

When everyone else had first arrived in this world, they were either mentally tough enough to analyze the situation calmly, or had treated it like a game or a dream, and they’d made their choice. No one expected there’d be a case like Liu Cuo Jin’s.

Yan Baiyu analyzed, “In other words, it’s not that you have no talent—you simply didn’t make a choice.”

Li Cunxin asked, “And after that, the thought never came back to you?”

Liu Cuo Jin said, “…I never thought about it on purpose. I forgot about it.”

“Then try now!” Yu Muyang urged impatiently. “Try to recall the feeling from when that thought appeared—”

“Wait!” Yan Baiyu interrupted him. “If she can still choose, we need to figure out what to choose first. Otherwise, if she starts thinking during the selection, or if we’re talking and disturb her, her thoughts might stray and she’ll pick the wrong talent by accident.”

Having one’s thoughts stray—Yu Muyang inexplicably felt that barb hit him squarely in the knee.

Everyone got excited. Xia Qing said, “It should definitely be Bamboo Craftsman! With a bamboo craftsman to work with me, we could build a rice huller and not have to exhaust ourselves hulling rice every day. And a bamboo craftsman can weave bamboo mats, straw mats, straw shoes, straw hats, all kinds of winnowing baskets, bamboo sieves, bamboo baskets—all things we need in daily life.”

Yu Muyang said, “That’s no good. We have to consider what’s most urgently needed. If she can choose, it should be Weaving/Spinning! We don’t have spare clothes. In winter it’s bearable, but in summer we’d need to switch between T-shirts and jackets. And I only have short sleeves and shorts—they’re nearly worn out. Whenever I wash them, I have to cover up with banana leaves. There’s no end to the woes.”

Zhao Penglai said, “If she can still choose, this is a rare opportunity we might not encounter again. We’ve already secured the ability to survive. Clothing isn’t an issue; even without a talent we can eventually find a solution—we’ll just live a bit more roughly. But some things are chasms that can’t be crossed at all without the right technology. Village Chief, this might be our only chance to choose a talent without having to consider sheer survival. So the direction we think about now shouldn’t be just for survival, but for development.”

Everyone turned their eyes to Li Cunxin. This was the first time they’d had differing opinions.

But Li Cunxin didn’t need to deliberate. She’d already had an idea before anyone else spoke.

“Choose Metallurgy.”

Her voice rang out, as crisp as a game piece striking a board.

After a long moment, Xu Yin said, “Good.”

It was indeed a talent they lacked, and a crucial one at that.

No one objected; they nodded in agreement.

Li Cunxin looked at Liu Cuo Jin, signaling her. “Little Liu.”

Liu Cuo Jin took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and tried hard to recall the feeling from that day.

Li Cunxin held her hand. “Don’t be nervous.”

Everyone couldn’t help but hold their breath, their hearts anxious and jittery.

A candlewick crackled. They felt time was crawling unbearably slowly.

Zhao Penglai wiped the sweat from his forehead. Xia Qing felt hot and scooted a little further from Yunxiu. Yu Muyang put his hands together and muttered something.

Finally, Liu Cuo Jin opened her eyes.

Everyone felt their hearts stop.

Liu Cuo Jin broke into a smile. “I chose Metallurgy.”

The room went silent for a split second.

“Ooooh!!!” A deafening cheer erupted.

Zhao Penglai and Yu Muyang ran over and hoisted Liu Cuo Jin into the air, lifting her high. Yunxiu and Xia Qing laughed as they steadied her, calling, “Be careful, you two!”

Everyone was overjoyed, their happiness written all over their faces.

Yan Baiyu’s gaze passed over the laughing, jostling group and landed on Li Cunxin. Li Cunxin sat where she was, only giving a soft smile.

Yan Baiyu detected a trace of something bitter in it.