Chapter 49

The next day, everyone still woke up early as usual. Their lives were just too regimented. Even knowing the next day was a rest day, wanting to be lazy, by nighttime, with no forms of leisure or entertainment, not even lights, they couldn’t stay up late. They could only sleep when it was time. Every morning, at the first hint of dawn, their internal biological clocks rang. Their heads and bodies were clear and alert, eyes wide as bronze bells. They couldn’t sleep in even if they wanted to.

After wolfing down their bowls of fragrant crab roe noodles, the eighteen people split into two groups. Those who hadn’t been to the lake near Zhao Penglai’s camp followed him there to fish and dig lotus roots.

The remaining people stayed home. Originally, they’d talked about playing soccer, but Miao Bing’s rattan ball wasn’t finished yet. Li Cunxin and a few others didn’t feel like exerting themselves either. After resting for half the morning, they truly couldn’t sit still.

Zhao Penglai and Xu Yin found some appropriately sized wood blocks and stones, marked them, and drew a chessboard on the brick floor of the main hall with charcoal. The two sat on the ground and began a game of Chinese chess.

Before long, Xu Yin was defeated. Yan Baiyu took his place against Zhao Penglai. Xu Yin watched from the side.

Li Cunxin, Xia Qing, and Liu Cuo Jin, who were off to the side shelling newly harvested cotton, curiously moved their bamboo baskets closer to watch the two play chess.

She actually didn’t know Chinese chess very well. She only knew simple rules like the horse moves in an L-shape, the elephant moves diagonally across the field, the cannon jumps over a piece to capture, and the chariot charges straight forward. But that didn’t stop her from watching the clash of the two armies with relish.

Secretly, she hoped Yan Baiyu would win. Seeing her pieces captured felt as painful as losing food rations. Seeing Zhao Penglai frown in deep thought, hesitant to move a piece, was like having made a brilliant move herself, trapping him, giving her a small sense of smug satisfaction.

“Checkmate,” Yan Baiyu smoothly moved the angular stone to its final position.

A checkmate.

Zhao Penglai lost, but instead looked relieved. He exhaled, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and smiled. “Outmatched in skill, I lost by a single move.”

Xu Yin, uncharacteristically impatient, waved his hand to shoo him away. “Loser leaves the board. My turn.”

Li Cunxin’s hands shelled cotton and picked out the seeds, but her eyes weren’t on her hands at all; they were on the chessboard.

“Do you want to play a game?” Yan Baiyu gestured to her spot.

Li Cunxin said, “I know a bit of Gomoku, but not much Chinese chess. You guys play.”

Xia Qing said, “How about later, when Yikui and I have some free time, we make you a proper set with a real board and pieces?”

Li Cunxin said happily, “We could also make a Mahjong set and playing cards.”

“Better not,” Xu Yin raised his hand in a halting gesture, his expression stern. “Things like that—short game times, low barrier to entry, highly entertaining, capable of gambling—even in modern times, how many people are addicted? Let alone here, a place with no other forms of entertainment. Our days might be called stable, but ‘good’? We’re still a thousand miles short. If you make those things, the strong-willed might only use them for recreation. Those with less self-control will likely indulge and neglect their duties. That would easily dampen everyone’s enthusiasm for work. In my opinion, we shouldn’t even make a proper chess set. Just like this. When we’re idle and truly bored enough to want a game, picking up a few stones works fine.”

Zhao Penglai nodded. “I agree with Brother Xu. We’ve just started. Houses are still being built, clothes still being woven, the storehouse grain reserves aren’t plentiful. We still need a long time to develop. Now is not the time to slack off and seek pleasure.”

“I didn’t think that deeply…” Li Cunxin smiled sheepishly. She forgot to shell the cotton boll in her hand and tossed it directly into the bamboo basket meant for cotton. “Baiyu, what do you think?”

Yan Baiyu picked up the chess pieces and set them back to their starting positions. “Now is indeed not the time to make those things.”

“Mm.” Li Cunxin touched her ear. “Then we won’t make them.”

Yan Baiyu and the other two played a few more games, then wiped the board clean, discarded the stones, and pulled up chairs to join Li Cunxin and the other two in shelling cotton.

Because they’d run short of cotton the previous year, using up everything Li Cunxin had accumulated over several years, they’d only managed to make a few cotton quilts. They only appreciated the scarcity when it was too late. Last year they planted winter wheat, this year cotton. Both times they expanded the fields further and further, twice increasing the cleared wasteland. Planting more naturally meant harvesting more.

Jiang Beibei couldn’t handle it all alone. Whenever anyone had free time, they would come help—shelling cotton, picking out seeds, stripping ramie bark, and twisting hemp thread.

As the sky darkened, they figured Yu Muyang and his group wouldn’t be returning and would camp outside for the night. The group tidied up and started a fire to make dinner.

Just as they were carrying the dishes to the table, the group returned.

Yu Muyang ran at the front, looking like a mud monkey. He was covered in mud from the neck down. The mud had dried into a crusty, gray-white shell. On his back was a bamboo basket, the lotus roots inside towering over his head.

“Village Chief, look what good stuff I brought back for you!” Yu Muyang called out, running all the way to Li Cunxin.

Li Cunxin circled behind him and pulled out a lotus root from the basket. The sections were plump and thick, still with mud on them. “These lotus roots grew really well. We thought you weren’t coming back for dinner and didn’t make your portions. Perfect timing. Let Yunxiu fire up the stove and add a plate of stir-fried lotus root slices.”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant. Come with me.”

Miao Bing and Wang Ran were leading the two donkeys. When the donkeys had left, they’d carried some cooking gear and dry rations. Now, their baskets had extra lotus roots and fresh fish. Wen Mi, Jiang Beibei, and the others followed behind, chatting and laughing. It seemed they’d had a great time.

There was a hint of something unusual in the crowd.

Yu Muyang led Li Cunxin toward them. As Li Cunxin got closer, she finally realized what was unusual. Beside Miao Bing and Wen Mi stood two strangers.

One man and one woman. The man had ordinary features and a thin frame. His loose clothes seemed baggy and empty. The woman had her hair in a braid and was as tall as Wen Mi. She was talking to Di Wanling and Jiang Beibei.

Yu Muyang introduced them to Li Cunxin. “This is our Village Chief.”

The two introduced themselves to Li Cunxin. The man was Lu Yiwei, the woman was Xu Lian.

Li Cunxin returned the greeting. “I’m Li Cunxin.”

Xu Lian looked at her, curious, sizing her up. Lu Yiwei gazed toward the new house in the distance. Yu Muyang chattered away, and Li Cunxin gathered some of the story from his words.

It turned out the group had encountered them while swimming and digging lotus roots by the lake.

When Li Cunxin heard there weren’t just two, but seven of them, her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Seven?”

The two exchanged awkward, evasive glances.

Wen Mi, having been in their shoes, smiled. “You wanted to come scout things out first? It’s not something shameful. After all, it concerns your livelihoods. I won’t hide it from you: the four of us came over just like this before. If we get along, we’re family. If not, we can be neighbors. At least we know the way now, easy to visit each other. In this place, we’re all from the same homeland. If you run into trouble, we’ll definitely help if we can.”

Lu Yiwei gave Wen Mi a grateful look. “Sister Wen is a straightforward person.”

Li Cunxin then understood. These seven hadn’t made up their minds yet. They sent two ahead to understand the situation first.

People naturally want to move to a better place. If they were to relocate, of course they’d want to move somewhere with better conditions. If the conditions here were poor, there was no reason for them to uproot themselves to accommodate Li Cunxin’s group.

The seven called that lake “East Lake,” because it was east of where they lived, so they used the name for easy identification. Li Cunxin found the name simple and easy to remember, stirring a sweet sense of familiarity: she knew her hometown also had an East Lake. So Li Cunxin also started calling it East Lake along with them.

East Lake was vast, covering over a hundred hectares, rich in resources. Zhao Penglai had originally landed there. Even with little wilderness survival knowledge, no related talent chosen, and alone, his life had been austere but far from starvation.

The longest anyone in this group of seven had been here was over three years, roughly the same time as Zhao Penglai’s arrival. Although Zhao Penglai had once scouted the entire perimeter of East Lake, back then, the seven only had one person. Their activity range was small, their dwelling a distance from the lake, and even farther from Zhao Penglai’s camp. The lake’s complex shape, with trees on the shore and aquatic vegetation in the water, obstructed sightlines. They hadn’t discovered each other. Not long after, Zhao Penglai moved to live with Li Cunxin, making any chance encounter even less likely.

It was only after so many trips to East Lake that they finally ran into each other while digging lotus roots this time.

It was both coincidence and inevitability. The entire lake’s most abundant, best-growing lotus leaves were only on the west side. Even now, withered and dead, only the stalks standing out of the water remained, they still drew the group there. They’d come to pick lotus pods on this side before.

The more times you visit, the greater the chance. Missed once, missed twice… third, fourth, fifth time—there’s always a day you meet.

That day was today!

Li Cunxin told Miao Bing and Wang Ran to lead the donkeys for water. Their people’s ingrained custom of eagerly hosting guests for meals was hard to shake. Li Cunxin said, “You’ve come such a long way. You definitely haven’t eaten. You won’t be able to get back today anyway, so stay here tonight. Sister Wen, take these lotus roots back to Yunxiu. Have her kill a chicken and a rabbit. Tell her we have guests.”

Wen Mi said, “Alright.”

Yu Muyang, unable to wait, eagerly led the two to see their new houses. Li Cunxin went along.

The autumn wind was cold and bleak. The purplish-red sky was veiled in a gray mist. The parasol tree in the courtyard had red leaves again. Several houses stood in the twilight.

Tiles were tiles. Bricks were bricks. Square and proper, neat and beautiful.

What grabbed their eyes most was the central, already-completed house. It was so profound and beautiful, yet so familiar and dear.

The sight alone made their throats tighten, as if suddenly back home.

Yu Muyang said smugly, “How about it? I didn’t lie to you, did I? Looking across this entire other world, who could build houses like ours now? Coming to our village, you definitely won’t get the short end of the stick.”

Li Cunxin felt embarrassed just listening to him and couldn’t help rolling her eyes at him before turning to the two with a smile. “Go inside and sit for a bit.”

The main hall was spacious and bright. Directly opposite the main door, four bamboo chairs and four long benches were orderly placed against the right-hand wall. Two long tables stood side by side. On the left side, further in, was a loom, with a half-woven piece of linen cloth still on it.

The two curiously walked up to the loom, looking down at the orderly warp and weft of the fabric, deeply moved. Xu Lian’s gaze followed to see the stacked bamboo baskets nearby, their contents snowy white. She bent down to look closer, her heart leaping. Unable to resist, she reached out to touch it. Soft and fluffy. Eyes bright, she turned to Li Cunxin. “Is this cotton?!”

Li Cunxin said, “It is.”

Yu Muyang crossed his legs, shaking one foot, his arm draped over the back of the chair. “Too bad you missed us by a few days, or we could’ve taken you to see the fields—an endless sea of rice waves.”

Yan Baiyu came in with water and glanced at Yu Muyang. Before she could even speak, Yu Muyang put his legs down, pulled his arms in, and sat up straight.

Yan Baiyu said, “You’re so dirty. Go wash up and change first.”

Yu Muyang grinned sheepishly, talking as he walked out. “I was just about to, even if you hadn’t said so.”

Yu Muyang left. Yan Baiyu handed the water to the two.

The four of them sat down and began to talk slowly.