Chapter 22 Part 2

Liu Chunhua replied, “Your mom and dad had a free love marriage back then.”

Chen Nian asked, “Does free love mean no money?”

Grandpa spoke up. “You’ve got to give something when you marry a wife.”

They were all family here, so there was no need to beat around the bush. Grandpa held up two fingers. “That much for your family.”

Chen Nian pressed on. “What about Eldest Aunt?”

Grandpa held up five fingers. “Things were tough for us back then. That much.”

Eldest Aunt straightened her back, clearly proud that her betrothal had been the bigger sum.

Chen Nian exclaimed, “Wow!!! Then Eldest Aunt, your mom sold you for a high price!!!!!”

Betrothal gifts were just an everyday topic, nothing special or out of the ordinary.

But the way Chen Nian blurted it out turned the table silent in an instant.

It was such an ugly thing to say.

And yet, it was ugly only through an adult’s lens—what did a child know? Chen Nian had simply followed Eldest Aunt’s own logic to its brutally honest conclusion.

Raising a daughter was just to trade her for betrothal money—and your mom got a good price for you.

Eldest Aunt’s face turned green.

Her hand tightened on her chopsticks before she slammed them down on the table with a sharp crack. “I’m full. I’m going to check on Awei…”

Chen Nian blinked up innocently. “I still want to know how much Grandpa spent building houses and finding jobs for Dad and Uncle…”

Liu Chunhua tossed a chicken leg into her bowl. “Not even food can shut that mouth of yours. Your dad got his job through exams, and the house was allocated by his unit.”

She looked up at Eldest Aunt, who had risen to her feet. “Sister-in-law, don’t take it to heart. Kids just blabber…”

Eldest Aunt forced a smile at the corner of her mouth and turned away. “Yeah, what do kids know? Parents teach them well.”

Chen Nian looked at Grandpa and Grandma with big, pitiful eyes. “Grandpa, did I say something wrong? Are you mad?”

Grandpa hurried to reassure her. “No, no. Eat your chicken leg.”

Chen Nian turned to Grandma. “Grandma, I came up with that all by myself. It was Eldest Aunt who talked about betrothal gifts…”

Grandma said, “It’s fine, it’s fine. Your Eldest Aunt went to look after Awei. He’s running around wild.”

The chicken leg finally shut Chen Nian’s mouth.

Outside, Eldest Aunt found Awei flinging sand everywhere, his head and face covered in it. She marched over and gave her eldest son and second son each a solid kick.

Awei burst into loud wails again. Fang Zhi quietly slipped the chicken wing Liu Chunhua had given her into Chen Nian’s bowl.

After lunch, it was time for the adults to get together and wrap dumplings, while the kids ran around and made a racket.

When Chen Nian took Fang Zhi outside again, Chen Bin and Chen Binwei tagged along right behind them. Chen Bin didn’t speak to the girls—he just followed wherever Chen Nian and Fang Zhi went. Chen Binwei was too young, still a little fool, and did whatever his big brother told him to.

He had a handful of firecrackers, small as pebbles, and he tossed them all right at Chen Nian’s feet.

They popped and crackled. Chen Nian wasn’t scared of them, but they still pissed her off.

She was just about to snap when Fang Zhi held her back.

Fang Zhi pointed to the alley nearby. “Let’s play over there.”

Chen Nian agreed. She always went along with whatever Fang Zhi wanted.

Hand in hand, they headed into the alley—a narrow path between the side walls of two rows of houses. No one was around, just a big black dog in the distance.

A row of loose cornstalks leaned against the wall. Fang Zhi went over and tugged at the dry leaves, which crumbled and fell in a shower.

Chen Bin and Chen Binwei followed them in. Chen Bin started kicking the stalks, snapping one underfoot, while Chen Binwei kept playing with his firecrackers, chucking them at Chen Nian’s feet.

Chen Nian frowned, but Fang Zhi held her back again.

This time, Fang Zhi didn’t just hold her back—she wouldn’t leave either. She stayed right there to play, not minding Chen Bin and Chen Binwei at all.

Chen Nian pouted and whispered to her, “Do you want to play with them?”

Fang Zhi shook her head. “I don’t.”

Chen Nian said, “But you won’t leave.”

Fang Zhi replied, “I’m playing with you.”

Chen Nian grumbled, “I think this place isn’t fun.”

Fang Zhi said, “Wait just a little longer.”

Chen Nian scrunched up her face and let out a wail. “Wah! Boo-hoo-hoo, this place isn’t fun at all. Niannian doesn’t want to play here, Sister. Let’s…”

Fang Zhi clapped a hand over her mouth.

Chen Nian: “…”

Fang Zhi: “Shut your mouth. No talking.”

Chen Nian: “Mmf mmf mmf mmf…”

Sister’s so mean. But she’s so cute when she’s mean.

While the two of them butted heads in their little game over here, Chen Binwei finished off the firecrackers in his hand over there and lunged to snatch the fuse cannon from Chen Bin—the kind that needed a spark to light.

Probably because Eldest Aunt had given him an earful, Chen Bin wouldn’t hand over the lighter. He only gave Chen Binwei the cannon itself. Chen Binwei would hold it while Chen Bin lit the fuse, then they’d hurl it away.

At first, they tossed them off at a safe distance. But it wasn’t long before Chen Binwei fell back on his old trick and lobbed one right at Chen Nian’s feet.

“Fuck y—” The curse flew out of Chen Nian’s mouth before she could stop it, only for Fang Zhi to clamp her hand down tighter and shove the words right back in.

Fang Zhi dragged Chen Nian along, dodging but never striking back, as her anger boiled hotter by the second.

Those fuse cannons packed way more punch than the little poppers. If one hit them just right and went off, it’d scorch a hole straight through their clothes.

You little punk, I’m gonna beat you senseless! Chen Nian roared inside her head. The aggrieved look she shot at Fang Zhi turned downright pitiful.

Fang Zhi didn’t budge. Chen Nian sank into gloom. All this time she’d spent avoiding other kids to play only with Fang Zhi, and it still hadn’t earned her a special spot in the girl’s heart.

Maybe I need to rethink my playdate strategy with little Fang Zhi, she mused. Let her make some real friends for a change. That way she won’t go scavenging for playmates in the trash heap anymore!

They tussled in chaotic fashion a while longer before Fang Zhi abruptly released her grip on Chen Nian’s mouth.

The newly liberated mouth went: “…Huh?”

Fang Zhi took Chen Nian by the hand and led her out. Dusk was settling in as they emerged from the alley.

Chen Bin and Chen Binwei trailed after them. At the alley’s end, the big black dog erupted in furious barks.

Chen Nian whipped her head around, but Chen Bin and Chen Binwei blocked her view. Before she could make anything out, Fang Zhi bellowed right in her ear: “Aaaah! Fire! It’s on fire!!! Fire!!!”

Chen Nian: “???”

Chen Bin and Chen Binwei froze mid-step and spun around.

Now Chen Nian saw it too. Sure enough, flames were rising. In the deepening blue twilight, a glow kindled beneath the pile of corn stalks by the wall, orange tongues of fire licking upward in short order.

Chen Nian went rigid. “Ah…”

Fang Zhi had already zeroed in on her mark. She hollered at a nearby auntie: “Fire! Their cannons set the corn stalks ablaze! Fire! Uncle! Auntie! Hurry!”

Chen Nian snapped to. She gaped at Fang Zhi, whose face wore a mask of panic—but whose hand clenched Chen Nian’s wrist like a vice, unyielding, refusing to let her budge.

Corn stalks were bone-dry tinder, primed to ignite.

The moment fire took hold, it roared to life with ferocious speed. A gust of wind turned it into an inferno.

Chen Bin let out a terrified yelp and charged the blaze, stomping wildly to smother it. Chen Binwei barreled after him, useless in the chaos, just wailing and sobbing.

Fear gripped Chen Nian. She yelled, “Don’t go near it!”

But Chen Bin and Chen Binwei ignored her completely, still kicking at the flames. Chen Nian lunged to haul them back—only for Fang Zhi to yank her in place.

“Don’t go over there,” Fang Zhi said.

Chen Nian stared at her. “Fire’s dangerous.”

“Exactly why you can’t go.”

Chen Nian fell silent, at a loss for words or action. They were all just kids, after all. Charging into the flames like that was flat-out reckless.

By now, adults had rushed in. In her daze, Chen Nian saw Fang Zhi pointing them straight at the boys.

Two uncles barreled forward, seized Chen Bin and Chen Binwei, and hauled them bodily away. The blaze swelled. More villagers arrived with buckets and shovels. Someone fired up the pump at last, blasting the flames with a high-pressure jet until they sputtered and died.

The crowd buzzed with alarm, faces etched in horror.

Eldest Aunt seized her sons and cracked sharp slaps across their cheeks. The boys wailed; even the grown-ups broke into sobs.

Grandma’s legs buckled in fright, leaving her crouched on the ground while Dad gripped her arm for support. Grandpa and Eldest Uncle conferred urgently with the villagers until their voices rose in shouts.

Mom hovered right beside the girls, inspecting Chen Nian first, then Fang Zhi. Only when she confirmed not a single hair was singed did she exhale in profound relief.

“It’s all right. You’re all right,” Liu Chunhua murmured over and over.

“Auntie,” Fang Zhi said in a small, soft voice, “it was their cannons that set the corn stalks on fire.”

“Yes, that was very wrong of them,” Liu Chunhua said, stroking the girl’s head. “You two won’t play with fireworks anymore, will you?”

“We won’t,” Fang Zhi replied with grave sincerity.

“Good girl.” Liu Chunhua gave her head another gentle pat.

The crowd showed no sign of thinning. If anything, more onlookers poured in to gawk.

The surroundings buzzed with noise as Liu Chunhua led Chen Nian and Fang Zhi home first.

She settled the two girls in a clean, bright room, switched on the television for them, and told them to stay put and not venture outside. Only then did Liu Chunhua hurry back to the scene of the fire.

The TV was full of lively chatter. Their mother had forgotten to tune it to a children’s channel, and CCTV Channel 1 was currently airing the news. The lead story was the New Year’s Eve banquet ushering in the spring.

Chen Nian and Fang Zhi sat quietly and watched the broadcast through to the end.

Firecrackers crackled to life outside, while the television echoed with the same festive pops.

In this raucous world, Chen Nian leaned close to Fang Zhi and whispered so softly it was barely audible. “Did you do it on purpose?”

“Mm.” Fang Zhi answered just as gently, her palm still gripping Chen Nian’s fingers, slick with a sheen of cold sweat.