Chapter 26: Meaning Beyond the Words

When they reached the entrance of the village, Anyi handed the mushrooms over to Xinliu. Luo Dequan caught two young rabbits for Qiao'er, and the rest he delivered to the An family. "Auntie, tonight bring Xier and Shuanzi over for dinner."

"We won't go; there are still New Year's dishes at home that haven’t been finished. If we let them sit any longer, they'll spoil." Mistress Luo took the rabbit cage. "Oh, they're little rabbits."

"Let Xier keep them for fun," Luo Dequan laughed. "Auntie, if you won’t come, I'll have my father invite you this evening."

"Dequan, don’t trouble your father; I said I won’t go."

Luo Dequan didn’t reply, just laughed and ran off.

Before dinner, Luo Dongsheng and Lady Li arrived. Mistress Luo couldn’t refuse, so she brought An Jian and his sister to eat dinner at their house.

The five little wild rabbits needed a basketful of grass each day. Seeing that Anyi was determined to dig for medicinal herbs, Mistress Luo didn’t let her cut grass, worried that her hands would grow calloused from the work and she’d lose her skill at embroidery. She asked An Jian to cut grass on his way home from school instead.

After two days of feeding rabbits, An Jian came home from school and sidled up to Anyi. “Sister, you’re the one raising the rabbits, but it’s me who cuts the grass. When the rabbits grow up…”

“I’ll eat one rabbit leg, and the rest are yours,” Anyi replied generously.

“That’s not what I meant,” An Jian grinned. “Sister, make me a pair of shoes. Other boys’ shoes are made by their sisters, can you make me a pair?”

“I haven’t learned how to make shoes yet,” Anyi blinked. “But I can make you a pouch.”

An Jian thought for a moment, then reluctantly agreed. “Alright, make me a pouch first. When you’ve learned to make shoes, then make me a pair.”

“Alright,” Anyi promised readily.

“I want a blue pouch, with flowers embroidered on it—and my name.”

“What kind of flower?” Anyi asked.

An Jian scratched his head. “It’s spring now—embroider peach blossoms.”

Anyi had just learned to embroider peach blossoms. “Should I embroider your name as An Jian, or Shuanzi?”

“‘Jian’ has too many strokes, too hard to embroider. Just put ‘Shuanzi’,” An Jian said thoughtfully.

“Alright, I’ll make it for you in a few days.”

“Thanks, sister.”

“No need, it’s what I should do.”

Mistress Luo watched An Jian ask Anyi for new shoes and couldn’t help but smile. She knew Anyi didn’t enjoy needlework, preferring to dig herbs outside. Who knows how long it would take for An Jian to finally wear new shoes.

Spring brought frequent rain. After only a few days of sunshine, raindrops began to fall again. Early in the morning, Xinliu arrived, carrying her seven-month-old brother Zhusheng on her back, braving the rain.

Mistress Luo looked at the small girl carrying a frail baby and felt a pang of pity. She helped Xinliu untie the basket, clapped her hands, and smiled kindly. “Good Zhusheng, come here, let auntie hold you.”

Little Zhusheng wasn’t shy. He grinned toothlessly and reached out his little hand to be held.

“Xier, there’s some white rice porridge in the pot. Bring a bowl for Zhusheng,” Mistress Luo said.

Anyi went to the kitchen, filled a bowl with rice porridge, and handed it to Mistress Luo, who sat on a wooden stool under the eaves and fed Zhusheng.

Anyi brought Xinliu into the inner room, got out a slate, water, and a small stick. “Do you know how to write your name?” she asked.

“I do.” Xinliu dipped the stick in water and wrote her name on the slate. “Xier, is it correct?”

“The characters are right, but the stroke order is wrong.” Anyi taught her again.

Xinliu followed the correct stroke order and wrote it once more, biting her lip. “Xier, today teach me the three characters for ‘pillar of the house.’”

Anyi lowered her gaze, hiding the disdain in her eyes. Ankang’s nickname was ‘Pillar.’ For the sake of ‘reasonably’ learning to write his name, Xinliu surely went to great lengths.

The first two characters, ‘pillar’ and ‘beam,’ were complex, while ‘pillar’ itself was simpler. Xinliu wrote the first two three times, then stopped, but continued to write ‘pillar’ over and over, each stroke forceful, as if carving the character into the slate.

Anyi watched coldly, finding Xinliu both hateful and pitiable.

The slate was covered in water marks. Xinliu picked up another slate and wrote ‘pillar of the house’ on the top row and ‘Zhu Xinliu’ on the second row—‘pillar’ above, ‘Xinliu’ below.

Anyi saw Xinliu gazing at the slate, smiling with pursed lips, and felt anger rising in her heart, though her expression didn’t change. She took the slate, wiped off the water with coarse cloth, and said, “You now recognize and can write these six characters. If you have time tomorrow, come by and I’ll teach you more.”

Xinliu was startled, looked up at Anyi, saw her calm expression, and breathed a sigh of relief. She smiled. “Alright, I’ll make time to come tomorrow.”

Anyi curled her lips, set the slate aside, and walked Xinliu out.

Mistress Luo played with Zhusheng, making him laugh. When the two girls emerged, she handed Zhusheng back, went to the kitchen to wrap several bean dregs patties in oil paper, and brought out two eggs for Xinliu. “These are for Zhusheng.”

“Thank you, auntie.” Xinliu didn’t refuse, took the patties and eggs, thanked Mistress Luo, hoisted her basket, opened a patched oil paper umbrella, and left with Zhusheng, braving the wind and rain.

Mistress Luo watched Xinliu’s slightly hunched figure and let out a long sigh. She turned to Anyi. “Xinliu wants to learn to read and write. Teach her if you can.”

Anyi responded softly, her lowered eyes cold. She would teach Xinliu, yes—she would teach her how to write the word ‘death.’

By afternoon, the rain had grown heavier. Anyi couldn’t go out to dig herbs, so she chose a piece of pale blue cloth from her bundle of scraps to make a pouch for An Jian.

The next day, the rain persisted. Xinliu came again with Zhusheng. Mistress Luo took Zhusheng, filled a bowl of rice porridge, and fed him.

“There are four seasons in a year. Today let’s learn spring, summer, autumn, and winter,” Anyi said, determined not to indulge Xinliu’s requests for characters connected to Ankang.

Xinliu pleaded with Anyi to teach her, but dared not argue.

After Xinliu finished learning the new characters and left, Mistress Luo gave her several bean dregs patties and a small bowl of white rice.

Anyi frowned deeply. She was teaching Xinliu to learn more about her, but hadn’t expected so much trouble. They say help in emergencies, not for poverty; chronic poverty is hard to support. The An family didn’t have much to spare—how could they afford to give things away every day? But she knew she couldn’t stop Mistress Luo, who considered Aunt Liu a savior. Not only would she send gifts, she’d empty the house if need be.

The next day, the sky was gloomy but dry. After breakfast, Anyi took her oil paper umbrella and went out. Near Xinliu’s house, she saw the front gate wide open and heard crying from inside.

Anyi hesitated, then quietly approached and peered inside. In the courtyard, a disheveled woman sat on the ground, wailing. Xinliu held Zhusheng, and her two brothers and a sister stood beside her.

Seeing this, Anyi knew Xinliu had no time to study today. She stepped back and left.