1983, Northeast China

Chapter 5 Old Nangou, Don't Touch It

Zhao Defa gritted his teeth and said, "No one is allowed to touch this land in Laonangou before the land is divided in the spring."

The crowd went wild.

"How can that be? It's already agreed that the allocation will be based on population rations!"

"My family is just waiting to plant corn in that wasteland over there!"

"Uncle Zhao, Han Changgui may be dead, but we can't let the living go hungry!"

Each sentence was more urgent than the last.

People are afraid of death, and they are afraid of loud noises, but they are even more afraid of having no land to plant in the spring and no grain to eat in the autumn.

Zhao Defa's temples throbbed from the noise. "Whoever isn't afraid of death, go down and dig right now! If you dig it out and it blows up your arms and legs, don't come crying to me!"

No one spoke.

But no one left.

Chen Shi didn't listen anymore and went back to his sister's house.

The fire in the stove is already burning.

Aunt Wang was pouring ginger, scallion, and jujube water into a bowl when she swept up a few shards of a ceramic pot at her feet.

There was a puddle of water next to the fragments, which flowed all the way to the base of the stove.

"Xiaoman was crying just now, and your sister insisted on getting off the kang (a heated brick bed) to hug her. She lost her balance and bumped into something," Aunt Wang said softly. "Your sister's hands and feet were frighteningly cold just now. Your sister's body really can't take any more of this."

Chen Shi nodded and glanced at the kang (a heated brick bed).

Chen Xiulan lay back down in bed, her face even paler than before, but her eyes remained fixed on the door.

Chen Shi took the bowl and first tested the temperature with the back of his hand.

"Sis, drink in small sips."

Chen Xiulan didn't take the bowl, but just looked at him: "What are they saying outside?"

"Tian Guizhi said Han Changgui had money, but they couldn't find him."

Chen Xiulan's eyelashes trembled.

"We also found a piece of red cloth, which looks a bit like her headscarf," Chen Shi continued. "We also found some old detonator casings. Uncle Zhao put them away and stored them away for now."

Upon hearing the words "old detonator casing," Chen Xiulan gripped the corner of the quilt tightly with her fingers, wrinkling the fabric.

Chen Shi brought the bowl to her lips. "Sister, drink."

Chen Xiulan lowered her head and took a small sip.

The ginger and scallion water was so spicy that she coughed twice as soon as she took a sip. Chen Shi supported her back and gently massaged along both sides of her spine.

"Slower."

Aunt Wang watched in amazement and said, "Shizi, your technique is really quite professional."

"My dad used to massage people's sprains; I've seen it."

I'll say it again.

It works well.

Chen Xiulan drank half a bowl of the drink, and perhaps feeling a bit warmer, her face finally regained some color.

The baby, Xiaoman, was whimpering in her swaddling clothes, as if she was hungry, her little mouth opening and closing.

Ya Ya clumsily patted her younger brother, and seeing that he was about to cry, she became more and more flustered as she patted him, the chilblains on the back of her hands faintly visible in her sleeve.

Chen Shi reached out and hugged Xiaoman.

He was so anxious just now that he was only thinking of ways to keep his family alive. Now that he's holding the baby securely, he realizes how light and small the child is.

The baby's face was yellowish, the lips were pale, and the cry was weak. It wasn't a serious illness, but the baby had suffered from certain deficiencies in the womb.

Chen Xiulan herself is not even full, so where would she get nutrition and milk?

Han Changgui would be doing a good deed if he didn't even exchange the grain for wine, let alone help her recover her health.

"Sister," Chen Shi asked, "is there anything left to eat at home?"

Chen Xiulan said hesitantly, "There's still some cornmeal at the bottom of the jar. There's half a bowl of sorghum rice in the cupboard. The eggs are gone; he took them the other day and came back smelling of alcohol."

He didn't need to say his name. Everyone in the room knew who he was.

Aunt Wang sighed, "I still have two cornbread buns at home, I'll bring them to you later."

"Second Aunt, I will remember this kindness," Chen Shi said.

"Why bother remembering? Let's get through this first." Aunt Wang said, then picked up a broom and gathered the shards of the pottery jar against the wall, afraid that Ya Ya would step on them.

Chen Shi put Xiaoman back on the bed and turned to look at Ya Ya.

Ya Ya immediately put her hands behind her back.

"Stretch it out," Chen Shi said.

Ya Ya pursed her lips and slowly stretched out her hand.

The child's hands were covered in chilblains, with dark red scabs forming at the cracks. One of the cracks kept opening and closing, and now that the room was warm, a little blood was seeping from the edge of the crack.

"Does it hurt?"

Ya Ya shook her head.

The more a child says it doesn't hurt, the more heartbreaking it becomes.

Chen Shi got up and searched the room.

There was half a piece of pork cracklings next to the stove, already hardened. A small handful of dried mugwort leaves hung on the wall. In the corner of the windowsill was a broken porcelain bottle with a little bit of badger oil-smelling ointment inside, probably left behind by Chen Mancang when he was still alive.

Badger oil can moisturize cracks, mugwort can warm and soothe, and lard can also be used temporarily.

In his previous life, Chen Shi would never have called this medicine.

Now, this is something that will help Ya Ya wake up from pain less often at night.

He picked up the porcelain bottle and smelled it.

The oil isn't spoiled.

"Ya Ya, stretch out your hand."

Ya Ya cautiously reached out her hand.

Chen Shi rubbed the ointment in his palm to warm it up and then applied it little by little to the chapped areas.

Ya Ya gasped in pain, but didn't flinch. She just gripped the tattered tiger tightly with her other hand.

Aunt Wang's eyes welled up with tears. "This child has suffered so much."

Chen Xiulan turned her face away, her shoulders trembling slightly. "It's my fault for being useless."

Chen Shi didn't try to persuade her; it wouldn't have mattered anyway.

In his memory, his sister was thoughtful and simple-minded.

This house lacks food, drink, firewood, and also someone who allows you to stand up straight and speak confidently.

He needs to get the food back first.

We need to hold the family together before Tian Guizhi exposes the truth.

"Second Aunt," Chen Shi said, "Could you please stay here with my sister for a while? I'm going home to get some things and then I'll go to the back mountain."

Chen Xiulan looked up abruptly. "What are you doing in the back mountain?"

"Let's gather some firewood and check the rabbit trail."

"No!" Chen Xiulan's voice trembled with emotion. "Our father had an accident while going into the mountains, and now this has happened again. You're not allowed to go!"

Chen Shi knew what she was afraid of.

After Chen Mancang's death, the phrase "going into the mountains" became a hurdle for the Chen family.

If this hurdle isn't overcome, the family will have no choice but to rely on charity from others.

What is given away may be available today, but not necessarily tomorrow.

Over time, people will also be unable to straighten their backs.

"Sister, I won't go deep into the mountains or walk through Laonangou," Chen Shi said. "I'll just go to the leeward slope on the back of the mountain and come back before dark."

Aunt Wang also advised, "Xiulan, let Shizi go. The family still needs to eat. There aren't any big animals near the back hill, it's just a bit cold."

Chen Xiulan continued to stare intently at Chen Shi.

Chen Shi looked at her, his voice softening, "I know where I can go and where I can't go."

Chen Xiulan finally let go. "Don't be a hero."

"Um."

After leaving his sister's house, Chen Shi went back to the old Chen family house first.

The old house is even more deserted than my sister's house.

After his father died, many things were scattered, and the ones that could be sold were sold off by the naive Chen Shi in the past, without him even realizing it.

There was also a harpoon, an old pair of clips, and quite a few other things left behind by Chen Mancang.

Last year, when his family ran out of food, he complained that those things took up space and he didn't know how to use them, so he traded them all for other things.

He didn't use much of what he got in return; Han Changgui took half of it.

What's left at home is mostly junk that others look down on.

Even junk has its uses.

He found an old willow basket, a bundle of hemp rope, and a chipped wood-chopping knife in the corner, and also took a dusty rabbit snare from the beam.

The rabbit snare was left behind by Chen Mancang.

The wire is a bit old, but it's still usable.

As Chen Shi touched the piece of wire, Chen Mancang's voice suddenly flashed through his mind.

"In winter, don't look at the rabbits, look at the wind. If the wind is strong and the snow crust is shiny, the rabbits won't like to walk there. On the leeward slope, at the roots of shrubs, and with grass sprouts under the snow, that's where the path is."

Chen Shi closed his eyes.

When he opened his eyes again, he stuffed the rabbit trap into the basket and dug out two pieces of charcoal that hadn't burned through from the ashes in the stove pit, then wrapped them in a rag.

Charcoal can be used to start a fire and also to make a temporary mark.

He swept under the bed and under the cabinet with a broom to see if there was anything else he could use.

With a clatter, a small wooden box was swept out.

He remembered that box.

I saw it when I was a child. There was no money inside, only some odds and ends brought back from the mountains.

He found it boring and ran away after just one glance.

The lock on the box was broken long ago; it opened with just a little force.

Inside were some odds and ends from Chen Mancang's life: a worn-out copper coin, a piece of deerskin rope, and at the bottom, a piece of old birch bark.

Chen Shi peeled off the birch bark.

The birch bark was yellowed from the smoke, the edges were curled up, and there were words written on it, the strokes crooked and twisted.

"Old Nangou, don't touch it."

Don't touch Lao Nangou.

Did Dad know there was something wrong with that land all along? Then why didn't he say anything? What was the point of keeping it hidden at the bottom of the cupboard?

Chen Shi turned the birch bark over, and on the back there was a line of even smaller characters, half of which was covered by oil stains.

He leaned closer and could barely make out the last three words.

...three pines.

Chen Shi was still pondering what this meant when Zhao Defa's voice came from outside.

"Shiko! Come out here for a second!"