Chapter Twelve: Longing in Someone's Heart

Jingtang Village was dozens of miles of mountain roads away from Shangtang Village. Halfway there, An Yi was out of breath; to keep her feet dry and prevent slipping, she wore straw sandals over her cotton shoes. After such a long trek, the straw sandals were caked with mud, and every step felt laborious.

An Kang crouched down and said, “Come on, little sister, let big brother carry you.”

“No need, I can walk by myself,” An Yi quickly refused. Although An Kang was tall and sturdy, he was only twelve years old.

An Kang looked up and smiled. “Mother, after a year, our little sister really has grown up. Last year, she hadn’t walked a few steps before demanding to be carried. This year, she’s walked so far and insists on walking herself.”

Madam Luo laughed. “Your sister is becoming sensible, knows how to care for her big brother. Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Growing up and being sensible is good, but when she grows up, she’ll be distant from me—that’s not good,” An Kang replied, glancing back.

An Jian nudged An Yi. “Did you hear that, little sister? If you won’t let big brother carry you, he’ll start to cry.”

“Big brother would never cry,” An Yi smiled, no longer stubbornly refusing. After all, she was still young, and walking such a long way was tiring. It was a blessing to have elder brothers doting on her. She climbed onto An Kang’s back, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Let’s go, big brother.”

“All right!” An Kang stood up, carrying her steadily forward.

The muddy road was hard to traverse. After nearly an hour, they finally reached the entrance to Shangtang Village. In the bitter cold of winter, An Kang was drenched in sweat from carrying An Yi. He set her down, waiting until she stood steady before letting go.

“Big brother, you must be tired?” An Yi pulled out the handkerchief Madam Luo had tucked into her sleeve, stood on tiptoe, and tried to wipe the sweat from An Kang’s forehead.

An Kang bent down, letting her wipe the sweat. He smiled. “Not tired. You’re lighter than a bundle of firewood. I’ll carry you again on the way home.”

An Yi laughed. “All right.”

“It’ll be my turn to carry little sister on the way back,” An Jian insisted, asserting his rights as the second brother.

“You’ll carry her?” An Kang snorted. “With those puny arms? Don’t drop her.”

“Don’t underestimate me, big brother. I can carry a bundle of firewood too,” An Jian protested, worried An Yi wouldn’t believe him. “Little sister, trust me—second brother won’t drop you.”

An Yi nodded, her eyes curved in a smile. “I trust second brother.”

An Jian smiled in satisfaction, raising his brows at An Kang.

“Fine, you can carry her on the way back,” An Kang said with a smile.

“Then I’ll leave myself in your care on the way home, second brother,” An Yi said sweetly.

“It’s no trouble at all,” An Jian replied, grinning.

Madam Luo watched their interaction, smiling and nodding approvingly.

The home of An Qinghe’s uncle, An Younian, was not far from the village entrance. They arrived as they spoke. Before they even knocked, a cacophony of barking dogs erupted from inside.

It was the New Year; every household had people at home, and to make visiting easier, courtyard gates were only lightly closed. The four of them removed their mud-caked straw sandals. Madam Luo pushed open the door and called loudly, “Uncle, Aunt!”

A young woman, sixteen or seventeen years old and dressed in red, stepped out of the house, her face bright with smiles. “Third sister-in-law, you’ve come! Father and Mother were just talking about you.”

“Sister-in-law,” Madam Luo replied with a gentle nod, then glanced at the three children. “Quick, greet your elders.”

An Kang said, “Happy New Year, Fourth Aunt.”

“Happy New Year, Fourth Aunt,” An Jian and An Yi echoed.

The woman in red was Cui, the third daughter-in-law of An Younian, married last year on the seventh day of the twelfth lunar month. She smiled, “Happy New Year, happy New Year, come inside, it’s cold out.”

The snow in the courtyard was thick, not fully cleared, just enough for a path. Three large black dogs were tied to the pillars under the eaves, not let loose in the courtyard.

An Yi’s family only visited two or three times a year. The black dogs didn’t recognize them, barking viciously and baring their teeth.

An Yi, having witnessed someone die from rabies in modern times, remembered the tragic sight vividly and kept her distance from cats and dogs ever since. In this era, there were no vaccines; a bite didn’t guarantee rabies, but the risk was much higher. Instinctively, she tried to avoid them. But the cold weather had left a thin layer of ice atop the stone steps. Her footing slipped, and she fell heavily to the ground with a thud.

“Little sister,” An Kang exclaimed, rushing forward to pick her up. “Did you hurt yourself?”

Bundled up in thick winter clothing, An Yi didn’t feel much pain. Yet when An Kang asked, she suddenly felt aggrieved, her nose tingling, eyes reddening. “Big brother, the dogs are so fierce.”

“Xier, does it hurt? Don’t cry, don’t cry, my good girl,” Madam Luo fretted. Her daughter had been plagued with misfortune these past two months: falling into the pond, suffering a serious illness, then having her neck injured by Zhou Dagen. Now, on New Year’s Day, she was frightened by dogs and took a tumble.

Hearing the commotion, others inside came out. The elderly woman leading the group asked, “What happened?”

Cui explained with a smile, “Mother, it’s nothing. Xier was scared by the barking and slipped.”

“Oh, Xier, don’t be afraid. The dogs are clever and won’t bite. Come, let grandma hold you. Let’s go inside for some candy, it won’t hurt anymore,” said the old woman, Madam Zhu, An Younian’s wife. She approached, took An Yi from An Kang’s arms, and carried her inside.

An Yi, with a new soul and no memory of the past, assumed Madam Zhu was always kind. Though she disliked being touched by strangers, she could only try to adapt at this moment.

Madam Luo and her sons were startled by the unusual scene—was the sun rising in the west today?

“Third sister-in-law, let’s go inside,” Cui said, taking Madam Luo’s arm with a smile.

An Kang and An Jian exchanged glances. An Kang, steadier, regained his composure. An Jian, still young and unable to hide his feelings, wore a doubtful expression, clearly thinking Madam Zhu’s sudden kindness must have ulterior motives. An Younian noticed, awkwardly rubbing his hands.

Inside, Madam Zhu sat by the table, holding An Yi, and grabbed a small handful of melon seeds for her, smiling broadly. “Xier, have some seeds, they’re very tasty.”

“Xier, come down now, don’t tire out your grandma,” Madam Luo said coolly.

An Yi sensed Madam Luo’s displeasure and quickly slid off Madam Zhu’s lap, moving to her mother’s side.

Except for a few younger members and the newly married Cui, who were unaware of the situation and remained unperturbed, Madam Zhu and the others looked somewhat embarrassed.

Madam Luo’s remark stemmed from an incident seven years ago: An Jian had been playing in the courtyard, fell, and couldn’t get up, crying loudly. Madam Luo, nine months pregnant, couldn’t bend to pick him up and asked Madam Zhu, who stood by, for help. Madam Zhu did lift An Jian, but immediately complained her arm was sore and insisted An Qinghe and Madam Luo buy her a pig’s knuckle as a tonic before the matter was settled.

An Younian coughed twice. “Qinghe’s wife, sit by the fire with the children—this wind and snow must have chilled them.”

Madam Luo placed her bundle on the table and smiled. “Uncle, Aunt, these are homemade cured fish and meat.”

“Oh, Qinghe’s wife, just bring the children, you don’t need to bring gifts. Why be so formal?” Madam Zhu protested, though her hands had already taken the package of cured meats and handed it to her eldest daughter-in-law, Madam Liu.

Madam Zhu’s false modesty was something Madam Luo had encountered countless times over the years. Take her words seriously, and if you arrived for New Year’s with nothing, her face would be longer than a horse’s. But it was the New Year, and she had already confronted her earlier, so that was enough. After all, she was an elder; there was no need to tear off the mask. Madam Luo responded accordingly, “The only elders on this side of the An family are Uncle and Aunt—it’s right to honor you. These things aren’t worth much; I hope you won’t mind.”

“No, not at all,” Madam Zhu replied, laughing.

The awkward atmosphere eased, and everyone took their seats. The younger children, lacking chairs and stools, sat on low wooden stools. An Younian’s second daughter-in-law, Madam Zhang, poured four bowls of hot water.

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